The film begins with a shot of a rotating globe which is stopped to focus on India and the north-west frontier in particular. Some spectacular panning shots of mountainous scenery are followed by a cut to a signpost indicating ‘tribal territory’ and we hear the thud of tribal drums. The drumbeat then changes to military beats and we see soldiers ascending a mountain path, followed by the sharp sounds of machine-gun fire, a British soldier commenting with surprise that the Indians have such weapons. Ghul’s men later use machine-guns against the British at the Tokot massacre. The sounds signify the conflicting narrative themes which are to follow: native culture vs. British identity; Indian use of western military technology vs. British policing the Raj. The climax of the film is the feast, when the audience knows of Ghul’s plans to massacre the British. A long display of Indian dancing is followed by the Scottish regiment’s attempt to show ‘these people something that’ll astonish them’: highland sword-dancing accompanied by bagpipes, a jingoistic response to what they clearly find strange. We then hear the drumbeats of Azim’s danger signal, the massacre begins and Margery Carruthers, who has previously been depicted as a placid example of English womanhood in India, comments: ‘I never want to hear another drum again’. For most of the film she is a plucky Englishwoman until her final intolerant outburst reveals her alienation.

The Drum is riddled with more contradictory themes, sounds and images which emphasise the sense of imperial insecurity which pervaded the 1930s. The British are established as protectors against warring native factions, with Carruthers as the benign English gentleman who teaches Azim clemency when they first meet. Representations such as this suggest the myth that imperialism involved ‘good colonisers’ with a ‘mission’ to introduce western notions of ‘civilisation’ to barbaric territories. Consequently, Carruthers rides into Tokot to negotiate with Azim’s father and, as a reprise of the film’s opening, is greeted by the sound of native drums sharply interrupted by gunshot. It turns out that the shots were instigated by Azim. He plans to shoot the guilty marksmen while Carruthers recommends whipping as a more suitable punishment, and a gentlemanly, more humane alternative to Azim’s barbaric inclinations. Margery Carruthers, as the stoical imperial handmaiden, supports this delineation of Britishness. Set against this representation of the British in India is the jingoism of the soldiers and the tension at the feast. The bagpipes are used many times in the film to signify a strident nationalism which qualifies the image of peaceful native and British co-existence. Interestingly, the Scottish regiment is depicted as working class, in opposition to figures like upper-class Captain Carruthers whose view, it is suggested, of the empire is more civilised: conquest with decorum, not violence.

The depiction of the dangerous Ghul is interesting for Raymond Massey’s performance of the character as clever, eloquent and at times charming. As Jaikumar points out, contemporary reviewers tend to overlook these aspects of his character in assessing his role as a villain. (Jaikumar, 2006: 151-2). The deployment of Technicolor emphasised the exoticism of the East, as with other colour films in the empire genre. The majority of the exterior locations were shot in Wales, while some shots were filmed in Chitral, a princely state under British control, whose ruler Nasir ul-Mulk had a modern British education and served in the British military.

Colour also exoticised and eroticized the figure of Azim, played by Indian actor Sabu (who was subsequently cast in British and American films in similar roles which further established his persona as the exotic but benign ‘other’). Despite an overtly harmonious, homosocial representation, the relationship between Azim and Bill the drummer-boy is laden with class and racial overtones. When Azim asks Bill if he can try on his uniform Bill is hesitant, speaking of ‘regulations’ and how Azim is a ‘toff’. When Ghul has usurped Azim’s claim to succeed his father, Azim asks Bill if he can become a drummer in the British army. Bill looks startled at the request, declaring it a ‘non-starter’ because Azim is not a competent drummer and is a prince. On the contrary, we have already seen him learn the drum signal with no trouble, leading to the unspoken conclusion that the idea of Azim joining the British ranks is unthinkable on racial grounds, although it is possible to argue that this exchange is about class barriers with Bill insisting that a ‘toff’ cannot be a mere drummer. So, on the one hand we are presented with a picture of tolerance and benign British interest in India, while on the other unspoken prejudices and racial tensions are clearly evident. The protests against the film in India were in part provoked by the depiction of Azim. The Drum has been described as an example of the imperial romantic adventure film (Jaikumar, 2006: 138-64), and it is an excellent example of how a popular genre film raises questions about empire, external trappings of Britishness, race and class in the 1930s.

Sarah Street