For
most historians, Indira Gandhi’s legacy is decidedly mixed. She clearly favored
the Soviets as a not-so Non-Aligned Nation and effectively suspended India’s
democracy during the infamous State of Emergency, but she also began the
process of normalizing diplomatic relations with Israel. However, the daughter
of a fallen Indian Maharajah never equivocates in her opinion of the controversial
prime minister. She will meet with her father’s former secretary to fondly
remember the good old days, but he does not always share her idealized
nostalgia in James Ivory’s Autobiography
of a Princess, a Merchant-Ivory 1975 television special, which has its theatrical
debut this Friday, along with a brand new 4K restoration of Heat and Dust.
Despite
his mixed feelings, Cyril “Sahib” always keep his annual engagement with the
Princess to mark the anniversary of her father’s death. To her, the Maharajah
was a progressive reformer with a jolly sense of humor. Having served first as
his tutor and then as his secretary, Cyril came to the conclusion the Indian
royal was a master manipulator and a bully, so he is not especially eager to
write his biography (and certainly not in the manner she so clearly expects).
Granted,
he cannot deny the Maharajah provided opulent living conditions, but he largely
blames the luxury for sapping his scholarly ambitions. During their late
afternoon tea, the two old palace acquaintances will watch vintage news reel
footage of early to mid-20th Century India specially delivered by
the BBC, which will serve as Rorschach ink-blots for their perceptions of Indian
history and society.
Autobiography is a deceptively
simple two-hander, but it is a wonderfully thoughtful and graceful film. Like a
good producer, Ismail Merchant re-purposed interview footage with former Indian
nobles who had been stripped of their formal recognition and (more importantly)
their government stipends, originally shot for an unfinished documentary. It is
hard to weep for them, but the Princess seems to better exemplifies the sense
of grace and duty that nobility is supposed to uphold. Yet, ironically, she
again praises her father for giving her the independence to survive on her own
(having jettisoned her deadbeat arranged husband long ago).
For
many, this will be a James Mason film they are not familiar with, which should
be reason enough to check out the Merchant-Ivory double-bill. In fact, it might
just be one of his best performances, constituting some wonderfully complex,
delicately shaded work. Although it is clear he has his misgivings about his service
in Indian, his ultimate judgment of the Maharajah remains ambiguous.
While
Mason exudes world-weariness, Madhur Jaffrey is absolutely luminous as the
Princess. She is a forceful screen presence, who only allows the subtlest hints
of doubt and insecurity to peak through the Princess’s charm and hospitality.
Together, they are quietly terrific playing off each other.
