Awakening in India

UNDER THE HOT Indian sun nudges a huge elephant, lavishly decorated with bells, tassels, and colorful curlicues on its ears and wrinkled trunk. Perched on the animal's back are Adela Quested, a quietly adventurous young lady from Britain and her escort, the eager-to-please Indian Dr. Aziz. Suddenly, both beast and humans are dwarfed on the screen to a mere splotch that makes its slow progress against a range of sand-colored rocks, massive and bulbous against the still blue sky.

Such is the artistry of David I can. Throughout his 42-year career, including such films as Doctor Zhivago, The Bridge Over the River Kwai, and Lawrence of Arabia, Lean has been known for the intensity of his images. His newest effort, an adaptation of E.M. Forster's A Passage to India, is another sweeping, superbly majestic movie, which conveys the plight of the lone, insignificant individual in a vast, inscrutable universe.

This disorienting sense of smallness ultimately terrifies young Adela (Judy Davis) Adela has come to the city of Chandrapore with Mrs. Moore (Peggy Ashcroft), the mother of Ronny Heaslop (Nigel Havers), who holds the post of city magistrate under the British raj.

But after a few day's stay, both women are exasperated with the dull, sheltered existence of the British colony. Then neighbors seem uniformly stuffy and priggish, smug and superior toward "the darker peoples" and lacking any interest in India's exotic culture. The British Club offers polo in the afternoon and musical comedies in the evening. Tea and cucumber sandwiches are served while a sweating Indian band in garish Western uniforms plays "God Save the King."

Mrs. Moore and Adela long to discover what they term the "real India"--a mythical culture looming just beyond their grasp. The opportunity comes when the carrest, enthusiastic young Dr. Aziz (Victor Banerjee) invites them on an excursion to the famous Marabar caves.

THE CAVES seem at first overrated--dank, gloomy gouges in bare formless hills. Yet there is something unnerving about them. Claustrophobia sejzes Mrs. Moore, and, in a panic, she dashes out into the open air. She tells Aziz she would sit and rest; he and Adela should go on and explore without her.

Just what happened in the causes? This question has puzzled readers since Forster's novel was published. Even in the movie, the question is not completely answered. But suddenly Adela charges down the stone slope, panting and gasping hysterically. Hours later, Doctor Aziz is arrested and charged with her race.

The film establishes Aziz's innocence with fair amount of certainty. But something in the Marabar caves has profoundly shaken the level-headed young Adela.

In her compelling interpretation. Davis as Adela projects an intelligent, controlled exterior, but subtly betrays a last for excitement and sensuality. India, with its blazing sun and mysterious temples, has awakened new desires in Adela. As she makes her halting way over the craggy rocks to the Marabar caves. Aziz extends his hand to help her.

Slowly the young woman takes the hand; her serious eyes flicker. She steps into the ceric, womblike cavern, her expression rapt, her hand trembling with the match she holds. Her voice, her own breathing, echoes maddeningly in the cave's depths. Around her, she senses the force of the limitless universe, a power that is oppressive yet seductive--the spirit of "the real India."

THE FILM also explores race relations between the British imperialists and Indian natives. It is Dr. Aziz, brilliantly portrayed by Banerjee, who symbolizes hope for improved interracial relations. High-strung, conscientious, and inpressionable, the young doctor reveals conflicting emotions of fierce and humble respect toward the British raj. His sentimental heart is stirred with love for his strange and majestic country. He boasts of his ancestors, the proud, warlike princes. He craves India's independence.

Yet Aziz is fascinated by the British--by their advanced technology, their advanced technology, the crisp, refined manners. He emulates them, dressing, in three-piece suits with collar cuffs and pedalling his way around Chandrapore on a bicycle. Gallantly, he kisses Adeln's hand upon their introduction. When the liberal college, superintendent Richard Fielding (James Fox) talks amicably with Aziz, and even "condescends" to let him sit on his bed, the Indian is giddy with delight.

But Aziz'z attitude changes when he is arrested and placed at the mercies of the prejudiced British court system. The respectable doctor is roughly hauled off to prison while the prosecutors confiscate and search his personal belongings. The district attorney, an acerbic Scotsman, begins his case with the truculent assertion: "It is a universal truth that the darker races are attracted to the fairer, but not vice-versa." Aziz's admiration for the British turns to fear, and finally to outrage.

LENA'S PASSAGE to India is remarkably faithful to a book whose themes are frequently cryptic and complex. It takes advantage of much or Forster's lively dialogue and, unlike many adaptations, does not chop out major portions of plot from the original book.

Lean does add a few seenes of his own creation, to clarify points which the book leaves murky. For example, the film stresses Adela's awakening sexuality, a journy on which Forster remains reticent as a major cause of her violent reaction to the caves.

And while the film is not without humor--such as the scene where Adela's servant is brewing tea in a porcelain toilet bowl, for example--the film does sink occasionally into pomposity. Too many intense closeups or large-scale shots of clamoring, turbaning masses, combined with a bombastic, schmaltzy musical score, sometimes prove overwhelming. Still, with its minor problems, it is a daring and breathtaking film.