Two ways to capture a monkey

Ironically, King Kong is a greater religious parable than Hanuman

Benny Thomas Delhi

The human race has typically favoured two ways of dealing with things it doesn't understand and that scare it. Option 1: kill it. Option 2: deify it. Recent offerings from Mumbai and Hollywood showcase both these approaches.

I took my daughter to see Hanuman the other day. The story is clearly a hit with the kids but it got me thinking about what was really going on here. We have young Hanuman, a young lad with the most impeccable credentials. Born through the miraculous entry of Vayu the god of the wind into his mother's ear (are you listening, Lancet?) and also somehow the incarnation of Shiva and blessed by Brahma, the creator, and mentored by Surya, the sun god, he is the object of the king of the lesser gods Indra's jealousy. Indra smites his hip and thigh with thunderbolts out of petty jealousy. One would have thought divinity would bring omniscience or at least a good e-mail system so all gods knew whom to smite and whom to lay off. But one would be wrong. Next thing we know, Vayu is throwing a hissy fit and is sucking all the air out of the world and it's a mess.

Then there's Ram himself, the revered incarnation of Vishnu, the creator and member of the trinity. He is worshipped as the embodiment of justice and responsibility and righteousness, but in at least two cases depicted in the movie, he gets what he needs — military and political support -— by promising to support the kingship claims of the younger brother, thus neatly destabilising two kingdoms. The older brothers— Bali and Ravana — are portrayed as headstrong and unlikely to listen to reason, but I don't see Ram trying the negotiation method, unless rapidly firing several arrows into the other party is some new form of diplomacy.

And then there's the way he treats his wife -- the chaste Sita, herself an incarnation of the earth goddess (talk about connections). I digress, but this really gets me. No slo-mo embraces and soaring music track when he rescues her from Lanka: no, it's fire-walk time. The fire turns to water but this guy, amazingly, is still not quite sure. Later, back in his kingdom, he throws her out simply because of an offhand comment from a dhobi. She promptly asks the earth to swallow her up and he is left with literally no ground beneath his feet. Millions of women since then have asked Sita's mother to do the same for them and considering the example set for Indian men, it isn't surprising. Nor is the state of Indian politics. So children, the moral of the story: if you're an animal with any hopes of survival, abject subjugation is the way to go. As long as you amuse, delight and occasionally save the lives of your human overlords you're all set. Oh, and it wouldn't hurt to conceal a holographic image of the boss in your left ventricle either. If not, prepare for target practice.

Which brings us to Skull Island and right away you know this is not Arcadia. No sign of Bambi. Instead what you have is some scary natives with bones through their cheeks, and a bunch of hungry raptors. Naomi Watts is totally convincing as the dance-hall slapstick performer with dreams of being a real actress, the captain of the ship does a great laconic Scandinavian but the real star is eponymous. Wah, Kong saab! (yaane ki Jackson saab). My seven-year-old daughter picked up on the inherent humanity of this monstrous creature and the contrast with the smooth-talking and amoral director of the film within the film.

It's hard not to see ourselves in the various human dramatis personae of the movie and to feel more than a little ashamed, like schoolboys reprimanded by the teacher for pulling the wings off a fly, by our brutal presumptions and unthinking violence. In that sense, King Kong, Hollywood blockbuster though it may be, is more like a religious parable than the actual extract from a religious text mentioned earlier. Perhaps we all need a new book /movie /playstation game /whatever.

The Hanuman story reads like an anthropological study of the primitive fear impulse of homo sapiens and their need to dominate all around them, at least in the stories told around the camp fire. Unfortunately, the attitude continues to this day and our ambivalence is evident in the way we worship the enshrined versions of animals and simultaneously abuse the real, living versions on the streets. Oh man, look at the bones on that cow! I'm never eating steak again.

The west on the other hand, while it continues to consume entire rainforests' worth of endangered species, at least has irony. Not enough, you might argue, and not in the places where it should be — such as in the minds of spending consumers. But it's a start.

Incidentally, the difference between chimpanzee or bonobo monkey DNA and ours is only about 0.2 per cent. Maybe that's why we're so scared, like the town mouse denying knowledge of the country mouse.

So watch Hanuman if you have a child: as they say in Brooklyn, children don't know from irony. And they still have enough wonderment in them to continue to be amazed by prehensile tails. But watch King Kong only if you are prepared to be humble.

The author heads strategic planning at the advertising agency TBWA