From the Back Cover The first Indian to become an international film star, Sabu rose to fame as a child actor in Elephant Boy (1937), and subsequently appeared in a succession of British pictures before relocating to Hollywood, where he died in 1963. Repeatedly cast in orientalist extravaganzas and jungle thrillers, he was associated with the 'exotic' and the 'primitive' in ways that reflected contemporary attitudes towards India and 'the East' more generally. In this captivating study, Michael Lawrence explores the historical, political, cultural contexts of Sabu's popularity as a star, and considers the technological and industrial shifts that shaped his career – from the emergence of Technicolor in the late 1930s to the breakdown of the studio system in the 1950s. Attending to the detail of Sabu's distinctively physical performances, Lawrence shows how his agency as an actor enabled him to endure, exceed and exploit his unique star image. Read more About the Author Michael Lawrence is Lecturer in Film Studies at the University of Sussex, UK. Read more
K**N
Narrow-focused study of the films of Sabu
The story of Sabu is a fascinating one. The charming 12-year-old Indian boy, son of an elephant driver, is “discovered” by famed documentarian Robert Flaherty (NANOOK OF THE NORTH) to star in the movie ELEPHANT BOY, which became a huge hit of 1937. Then it was off first to London where he was signed over to film mogul Alexander Korda (producer and co-director of ELEPHANT BOY), who stared him in a series of hit films emphasizing his impish personality, his precocious athleticism, and his radiant smile. These films, especially the classics, THE THIEF OF BAGDAD and THE JUNGLE BOOK, were huge hits the world over (and are still beloved today). Then it was on to Hollywood where he enjoyed continued success as a teenager in a series of color spectacles for Universal Studios co-starring with Maria Montez and John Hall. (Williams intimates that Sabu’s rise is related to the parallel rise of Technicolor, which emphasized his “other-ness.”) By his late 20s he was a has-been, appearing in schlocky, slapped-together films and desperately exploiting the audience’s memory of his younger image by means of the theatre and even an ice show. He died an untimely death at age 39 of a heart attack. Those are the outlines of Sabu’s professional life, which is what this book focuses on. Michael Lawrence confines his treatment of Sabu’s personal life to the basic facts of his marriage, the birth of his two children, and his involvement in a tabloid scandal when he was sued for paternity by a British dancer. He emphasizes Sabu’s love of sports, especially ice-skating (and his unfulfilled desire to star in a film opposite Sonja Henie). But there is virtually nothing about what Sabu thought and read and believed in. He wanted to make sure that people knew that he was NOT a Hindu, but a Muslim. However, we do not learn how devout a Muslim he was (one suspects “not very”) or to which sect he belonged.Lawrence analyzes the films of Sabu through his very personal sensibility and has some insightful comments about what exactly makes a performer a “star.” His film analyses are interesting, albeit very “specialized.” He analyses Sabu’s movies as Colonialist propaganda and also as homosexual sex fantasies. (In both cases, I would say that if such characterizations were indeed true, they are unintentional.)I feel that there is a great story here that has not been told. What happens emotionally to a child who is taken out of one culture and thrust into another that is drastically different? But that does not seem to interest Lawrence. What he’s interested in are the films and their place in modern popular culture. I did find this book interesting and thought-provoking, but it left me unsatisfied. However, within its own narrow focus, I’d rate it at four stars.
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