Old is Gold

Dev Anand: A musical interview (Part 2)

2011-12-19T01:14:00.001-07:00

Interviewing Dev Saab is not an easy task! Once part 1 of the interview was done, I was certain that part 2 would only take me a couple of hours. I hadn’t, of course, taken into account one thing – every time I tried asking him a question, he’d just belt out one of his intoxicatingly romantic numbers, and I would be umm… distracted.

Sach kehta hun bohut haseen ho – Jaali Note (1960)

It took a herculean effort in exercising my will power to continue our chat on a normal plane. That is why this part has taken so long to come to you…

Me: Dev Saab, tell me about your puff:

Dev A: It all began with my topi – it went everywhere my head did, and we were very happy together.

Main jaadugar bangaal ka (Dushman, 1957)

But then it started to have ideas above my head, and took to floating away into thin air at the drop of a hat. The inevitable happened. It was flattened into oblivion.

Aye meri topi palat ke aa (Funtoosh, 1956)

Instead of committing to a new topi, I decided to find myself a more permanent solution – headgear that would stay attached to my head. That is how the puff was born. It started out small…

Do bichhde hue dil (Shair, 1949)

Khaali peeli kahe ko akkha din (Tamasha, 1952)

But when Shammi [Kapoor] set up in competition, I had to make mine bigger. Then it just got bigger and bigger, till it began to dominate my persona. Waheeda was so upset with my puff that she refused to do any more films with me until I got rid of it! I begged and pleaded, but she was adamant.

Din dhal jaaye hai raat na jaye (Guide, 1965)

That was the nadir of my career. But I refused to give in to despair, and decided to eschew headgear forthwith. It was time to flatten out the puff and concentrate on my other love - my neck wear.

Aankhon aankhon mein dekho (Mahal, 1967)

Me: Dev Saab, you are the only hero from the golden era who has never sported a paunch or displayed a double chin. Whispers of plastic surgery and/or a miracle diet have followed you everywhere. Care to set those rumours to rest, once and for all?

Dev A: I was as big a fan of tandoori chicken and butter naan as any person in his right mind ought to be. But then, one day, I realised that every grain comes labeled with it’s consumer’s name, and they are all coming from Lord Rama’s granary!

Daane daane pe likha hai khaane waale ka naam (Baarish, 1957)

This could not be. Me consuming such mass produced stuff?! Chhi chhi chhii…There and then, I decided to opt for a liquid and gaseous diet. I must admit that it was a very smart decision. You can drink and/or smoke in any bar/cafe, you don’t have to waste time masticating, and here’s the best thing – the lovely ladies love you.

Dil se milake dil pyaar kijiye (Taxi Driver, 1954)

Ek naya tarana (Faraar/Dev Anand in Goa, 1955)

Of course, I also took up dancing. That helped a lot to keep me slim.

Is jahan ka pyaar jhootha (Amardeep, 1958)

Nacho ghoom ghoom ghoom ke (Sarhad, 1960)

I decided that when it came to his "dancing", discretion was the better part of valour, and swiftly changed the subject.

Me: You haven’t done [m]any historicals. Why stay away from the world of swashbuckling costume dramas?

Dev A: Teri duniya mein jeene se to behtar hai ki mar jaye (I’d rather die than live in your world).

Teri duniya mein jeene se (House No. 44, 1955)

All good things have to come to an end, and it is now time to end this long, musical conversation. But I am loath to let go without a few more ~~songs~~ words from the romantic puff-throb.

Me: What would you tell the youth of today?

Dev A: Duniya kya hai dafaa karo, thokar maaro… (What is the world? Forget it, push it away…)

Duniya kya hai dafaa karo (Sarhad, 1960)

And play more cricket. The world needs more sport!

She ne khela he se aaj cricket match (Love Marriage, 1959)

Dev Anand: A musical interview (Part 1)

2011-12-13T00:01:00.002-07:00

I was shocked when I read about Dev Anand’s death. He may have been the superstar of my parents’ generation, but he certainly looked like he would outlive me! If I’d ever thought about it, I’d have said that he’d go on making movies forever. Over the years, he’s spent so much time in my living room, bringing so much fun and entertainment with him, that it is impossible not to feel a bit sad that he is no more. I am only "a bit" sad because the Dev Anand I knew is forever young, handsome, and always there in his lovely films. (I refuse to even admit the existence of his post-1960s career!)

Of course, his sad demise reminded me that it was high time I paid him a visit in the 1960s. While I was there, I took the opportunity to quiz him about his great romances with women and wine.

Me: How did you get started on the path of romance? I can understand the love of women, but where does the wine fit in?

Dev A: It all started when I did these two films with Nargis. They were abysmal failures. No matter how tunefully Nargis asked the audience to stay, by intermission, the theatre was empty.

Theher o jaane wale–Birha Ki Raat (1950)

Nargis finally left me for Raj Kapoor and I drowned my sorrows in sharaab…

Saawan ke mahine mein - Sharaabi (1964)

Kabhi khud pe kabhi haalaat pe – Hum Dono (1960)

Me: B-b-but weren’t you in love with Suraiya back then?
Dev A: That does not mean I could take being ditched for Raj Kapoor! Besides, if Prince Salim/Jehangir could have more than one true love, why couldn’t I? And I’d barely recovered from this when Madhubala broke my heart afresh. There I was, pledging my love to her, as tunefully as Mohammed Rafi. Can you guess what she did? She told me I wasn’t good looking enough for her!!! Then she went off and married Kishore Kumar!

Dil hai aapka huzoor – Jaali Note (1960)

Then there was Waheeda. We got along fine at first…

Tum to dil ke taar–Roop Ki Rani Choron Ka Raja (1961)

But then she asked me to go away, and not trouble her!

Jaao na sataao–Roop Ki Rani Choron Ka Raja (1961)

Me: Is that when you began dating wine?
Dev A: I tried to drown myself in my music, but I could not forget the lovely eyes that would never reciprocate my love…

Yaad aa gayi woh nasheeli nigahen–Manzil (1962)

So I turned to wine. But that romance was also doomed. My glass would run dry very often, and I always had to sing for more. Sigh!

Chheda mere dil ne–Asli Naqli (1962)

It looks like filmmaking wasn't the only common denominator between Dev Saab and his friend Guru Dutt! While Dev Saab’s moroseness was prompting me to shift to happier topics, I was loath to let go without one final question:

Me: What was the true cause of your break-up with Suraiya?
Dev A: Yeh dil na hota bechara, kadam na hote awaara, to khoobsoorat koi apna humsafar hota (if it weren’t for this poor heart, these straying feet, I would’ve had a beauty at my side)…

Yeh dil na hota bechara–Jewel Thief (1967)

That was refreshingly honest! And he went on to be candid about a lot of other things too, as you will see in the second part of this interview…

My ten favourite Geeta Dutt songs

2011-11-23T03:51:00.001-07:00

Yaad karoge yaad karoge, ek din humko yaad karoge (you will remember, one day you will remember me). I wonder if Geeta Dutt ever realised how prophetic these words from her first big hit album (Do Bhai, 1947) would prove to be. She’s left such a wealth of lovely songs, sung in that rich, fluid, and incredibly beautiful voice of hers, that it is hard not to remember her, every time you think of songs of yore. She started her playback career at the age of sixteen when she sang two lines in a song for the movie Bhakta Prahlad (1946). Success came just a year later, with Mera sundar sapna beet gaya (Do Bhai, 1947). The rest, as they say, is history. Geeta Dutt was soon one of Hindi film’s leading singers, and ruled the Hindi song-waves through the 40s and 50s. She lent her lovely voice to an incredibly wide range of songs and sang everything from ballads to bhajans, club songs to ghazals, sad songs to frothy, fun numbers…

My childhood memories of Geeta Dutt songs are mostly of her serious and/or soulful numbers like Waqt ne kiya, Piya aiso jiya mein and Mera sundar sapna – songs that struck me as incredibly weepy and oppressive, then. Naturally, as a grown up, I recognise that they are deservedly famous, and in fact Waqt ne kiya is a big favourite of mine. But when it comes to drawing up a favourites list, I try to apply the Desert Island Rule, i.e., would I want to be marooned on a desert island with just one kind of Geeta Dutt songs when I could have a wide variety of her songs instead? The answer is a resounding NAHIIIN!!! That decided, I just had to pick ten songs out of her vast repertoire of several hundred songs. A very easy task, if I could spend a few decades making my choices. Since I’ve already had a couple of decades to decide, and come no closer to a final list, some limiting factors clearly needed to be introduced. Enter random rule #1 – sadness was out and the list would only include happy duets. When that did not help to narrow down the selection, out came random rule #2 – only one song per singing partner. After that, it was first come first serve – the first duet with each singer that I felt I could not do without on a desert island. Since I started last week, I’ve changed my mind several times already! Before I change it yet again, here’s my current list of 10 favourite Geeta Dutt songs, on the occasion of her 81^st birth anniversary…

10. Na main dhan chahoon (Kala Bazaar, 1960) with Sudha Malhotra Music Director: S D Burman, Lyricist: Shailendra

Geeta Dutt is in a devotional mood, and Sudha Malhotra seems equally affected by divine love. Leela Chitnis and Nanda are singing of their devotion to the Almighty and how they are content to serve Him and need no jewels or riches. The sentiments make Dev Anand very thoughtful. Is he thinking about the pink Cadillac he could’ve bought with all the money these ladies do not want? Dev Saab, with those voices, the ladies will be rich enough to buy you several Cadillacs in all the colors of the rainbow!

9. Ankhiyaan bhool gayi hain sona (Goonj Uthi Shehnai, 1959) with Lata Mangeshkar
Music Director : Vasant Desai, Lyricist: Bharat Vyas

Geeta Dutt in a teasing, playful mood is a joy to hear. A shehnai player seems to be responsible for mass-scale insomnia in this delightful number. His playing has led the bashful heroine (Ameeta)’s eyes to forget sleep, or so avers her friend! The afflicted insomniac counters (in Lata’s voice) that her friends do not understand since they haven’t met their true loves, yet. Naturally, her friends are rather sceptical. I wonder if they suspect her insomnia is caused more by the prospect of living with the mournful shehnai music, than the charms of her shehnai player.

8. O bedardi kyon tadpaye (Godaan, 1963) with Mahendra Kapoor
Music Director : Ravi Shankar, Lyricist: Anjaan

Geeta Dutt once again in a playful mood, this time with an equally playful Mahendra Kapoor. “O cruel one, why torture me thus after capturing my heart?” asks the clearly happy dancer (Ragini). Instead of answering her accusation, her companion counters with another question, "Why captivate me with your beautiful song and lovely eyes?" 'Torture', 'captivity'? Worry not. They’re speaking of LOVE, not about being carted off to the Bastille! While the lyrics are unusual enough (they are in pure Hindi, with nary a hint of Urdu), what makes this song even more remarkable is that it was composed by sitar maestro Pt. Ravi Shankar – one of the few Hindi films he ever scored music for!

7. Keh rahi hain dhadkane pukar kar (Lal Pari, 1954) with Talat Mahmood
Music Director : Hansraj Bahl, Lyricist: Asad Bhopali

I heard this for the first time in a compilation of lesser known Talat Mahmood songs, and it was an instant favourite. When Geeta Dutt’s smoky rich voice glides along with Talat’s velvety smooth tones, you can be forgiven for not noticing either the lyrics or the music! It took several replays before I paid any attention to what they were singing. Her heartbeats are calling out for them to love, and he is anxious that she may disappear with his heart! Listen you two, you are here in these sound bytes, and my heartbeats are calling for you to never stop singing!

6. Woh dekho udhar chand (Roop Kumari, 1956) with Manna Dey
Music Director : S N Tripathi, Lyricist: B D Mishra

Another soft romantic number, this time with Manna Dey, now the grand old man of playback singing. They’ve just discovered that the moon has risen in the sky, and that has brought great joy in their lives. I’d hardly call a moon-rise a Eureka! moment, but perhaps tonight the moonlight is brighter after they cleaned their windows? Whatever the reason, I’m just thankful that they’re singing out their joy in these smooth-as-satin and rich-as-chocolate-cream-liqueur voices. May the moon rise every day!

5. Tumse hi meri zindagi (Apna Ghar, 1960) with Mukesh
Music Director: Ravi, Lyricist: Prem Dhawan

Mukesh has always struck me as something of a rough diamond in the voice department – his voice lacks the polished smoothness of a Rafi or the well-cut edges of a Lata. So when Geeta Dutt sings with him, you’d expect some discord between her rich silky voice and his more craggy tones. But Geetaji just ups the smokiness and ruggedness in her voice, and lets it blend right in! The result is a half playful, half earnest, and completely delightful romantic number. She (Shyama) is his (Prem Nath) life, his spring, while she thinks he must ask his heart whose love he is. I wonder why Prem Nath looks drunk - is it love, or alcohol?

4. Ankhon mein tum (Half Ticket, 1962) with Kishore Kumar
Music Director: Salil Chowdhury, Lyricist: Shailendra

A wacky, foot-tapping romantic number, this time with the King Of Wack himself – Kishore Kumar. When Kishore da is one half of a romantic duo, anything may happen. A normally sedate Madhubala may decide to lasso her beau, just to tell him how much she loves him "You are in my eyes, my heart, believe it or not". I believe you, Madhubala. Kishore Kumar has a strange effect on everybody around him. Just listen to Geeta Dutt – she sounds like she is having the time of her life, singing with him. It’s like she never had to watch Pyaasa or Kaagaz Ke Phool!

3. Jaanu jaanu ri (Insaan Jaag Utha, 1959) with Asha Bhosle
Music Director: S D Burman, Lyricist: Shailendra

Madhubala has obtained highly classified information about Meenu Mumtaz – she’s found out why Meenu’s bangles jingle so. Meenu is unfazed. Madhubala isn’t the only one with secret information. She (Meenu) knows who came to meet Madhubala secretly. And so it goes on, both revealing secrets with a gusto that would give even the humblest of secret agents a massive coronary. But are these women worried about revealing all? Nope, they’re too busy having fun to worry about who knows what! As a kid, I often had trouble telling Geeta and Asha apart in their peppy numbers, which is amazing considering how different their voices really are. Can you tell who is singing for whom in this number?

2. Mujhko tum jo mile (Detective, 1958) with Hemant Kumar
Music Director: Mukul Roy, Lyricist: Shailendra

Back to soft romantic numbers, this one with Hemant Kumar, he of the soulful, haunting, smooth-as-aged-Brandy voice. He (Pradeep Kumar) has won her (Mala Sinha) and feels like he has the world. She thinks that his smile brings out the flowers in her heart. Ma’am, I hate to interrupt the romantic séance, but flowers growing in your heart can only mean one thing – that a massive heart attack caused by clogged arteries is on it’s way. Just make sure you finish this lovely duet before it strikes.

1. Ankhon hi ankhon mein (CID, 1958) with Mohammad Rafi
Music Director: O P Nayyar, Lyricist: Majrooh

He (Dev Anand) explains how two pairs of eyes signalled each other and one heart found a life-line for life. She (Shakila) is puzzled why he sings with his hand on his heart! Lady, don’t you understand, his muscular dystrophy has affected his heart muscles? Every time he hears Geeta Dutt sing, his heart muscles go haywire and he must put his hand over his heart to keep it in place. By the way, I am very impressed by Shakila/Geeta Dutt’s ability to hold out against Rafi’s intoxicating voice and Dev Saab’s beauty for almost an entire song!

So these are my favourite Geeta Dutt songs (at the moment). What are yours?

Gaban (1966)

2011-11-09T01:50:00.004-07:00

Have you ever watched a film with an impending sense of doom, heart thumping, waiting to see how the hero makes a bad situation worse? And this when it’s not even a thriller? That pretty much sums up how I felt watching this film! All I knew before was that it was based on Munshi Premchand’s story of the same name, and that it starred my favourite onscreen couple (Sunil Dutt and Sadhana). The film’s title meant that there was to be an embezzlement (gaban = embezzlement), and knowing that it was based on Premchand’s writing made me suspect the worst. As it turns out, it is a lovely film. But if I’d known just how bad things were going to get, I could’ve stopped expecting the worst and relaxed enough to enjoy the film! So for those of you who prefer to be forewarned, here goes…

The year is 1928, the place - Allahabad. Ramanath (Sunil Dutt) is the eldest son of a scrupulously honest court clerk (Badri Prasad). When the film opens, Dad is wondering what his unemployed eldest son will become. Well, Ramanath is convinced that he is human and will stay that way! He is smartly turned out in a dapper set of pants and blazer, and getting his expensive leather shoes polished. How did an unemployed son of a poor clerk manage to be so expensively dressed? He "borrowed" his friends' stuff because he believes that "wealth must be shared"! His friends are not convinced, but are finally won over by his charm. And they’re not the only ones. He visits his father at court and manages to dazzle Dad’s client (Brahm Bharadwaj). Said client promptly asks for Ramanath's hand in marriage – for his daughter Jalpa (Sadhana).

For all his charm, there is a darker side to Ramanath. He takes bribes from people to get their work done by his father and prefers to cover up inconvenient truths with convenient lies. He is, in fact, quite well-known among his friends for his creative lies – something that will soon land him in a deal of trouble. It all begins with his marriage…

Ramanath’s father, anxious to make the wedding an occasion to remember, spends too much on the festivities and jewellery for the bride. The wedding over, he finds that he cannot repay the jeweller Gangu (?). The only way to get out of debt is to return some of the bridal jewellery. When Dad asks Ramanath to get the jewellery from his new bride, he is aghast. He spent their wedding night trying to impress Jalpa with his (non-existent) wealth. How can he now ask her back for the jewellery he gifted her?! It would mean admitting that he is not only poor, but also a liar. He elects to take the easy way out, and steals the jewels!

Jalpa is inconsolable at the loss of her jewellery. To cheer her up, Ramanath promises to get her new jewels to fill up her jewel box. But to buy gold, he must first earn some money. He approaches his frequent chess partner, Ramesh aka ‘Bade’ Babu (Agha), for help. Ramesh is a clerk in the municipal office and has always boasted that he has great power in his office – unlike Ramanath’s, his aren’t empty boasts. He helps Ramanath get a job collecting tax payments in the municipal office. For a while, things go well. Ramanath works hard during the day and spends the rest of the time basking in Jalpa’s affection.

The trouble with Ramanath is that it never takes him long to wander off the straight-and-narrow path. The moment he gets his salary, he goes off to buy Jalpa some gold jewellery. He intends to buy something inexpensive, but is easily persuaded by the jeweller into spending more than he has. He does intend to pay the jeweller’s debt, but at some future date.

Jalpa is entranced with her new jewellery and wears it when they visit an elderly relative of Ramanath’s. The old man has a very young and very lovely wife - Ratan (Zeb Rehman) - who is very fond of jewellery. When she expresses an interest in Jalpa’s gold bangles, her husband promptly hands Ramanath Rs. 600 to get a similar pair made for her. Ramanath gives the money to the jeweller, asking for the bangles to be made. He completely ignores the fact that he already owes the jeweller a lot of money! The latter calmly pockets the cash in lieu of Ramanath’s debt and refuses to give the bangles without further payment.

Now Ramanath is in a fix - how to get more cash? For Ratan will eventually want her bangles. As anticipated, she is soon pressing Ramanath for her bangles. He tries to fob her off with talk of delays but this won’t do for her. He must either get her the bangles right away, or her money back. So the day of reckoning is on him, sooner than he expected. How to return Ratan’s money? He does not have Rs. 600! There is one ray of hope. He is certain that she does not want the money - she is only trying to pressurize the jeweller into making the bangles quickly. What if he shows her Rs. 600? That should buy him some time. So he approaches his friends for loans, and manages to collect about Rs. 200. But he is still Rs. 400 short. What to do?

That evening, when it’s time for Ramanath to deposit the day’s tax collections with the office cashier, he waits till the cashier leaves before trying to deposit it. This gives him the excuse of taking the money home for safe-keeping, since nobody else at the office is willing to take responsibility for the cash. He plans to take the money back early next morning, certain that Ratan won’t take it. Unfortunately, the best laid plans have a way of going awry. Ramanath is away when Ratan comes to take the money, and Jalpa hands it over. Ratan admits that she does not really want the money, only her bangles. But Jalpa insists that Ratan must take her money and get her bangles made herself! By the time Ramanath returns home, the deed is done. His money is gone and come morning, he will have to admit to the defalcation at the office.

The next day, Ramanath makes a full confession to a shocked Bade Babu. Our hero is told that unless he wants to be arrested for embezzlement, the missing cash should be returned before noon. Ramanath comes home, hoping to steal Jalpa’s jewellery (again!) to cover up his defalcation. Alas, Jalpa has gone out wearing all her jewels. He waits for her to return, with the clock ticking. As it gets closer to noon and there is still no sign of her, he sends out a servant, asking her to return immediately. As he waits impatiently for her return, he sees the police coming down the street to his door. Convinced that they’re about to arrest him, he flees through the back door. Had he waited a few moments, he’d have found that the police were actually looking for one of his neighbours!

Jalpa returns home in response to Ramanath’s summons, just after he’s fled. Seeing that he’s left in a hurry, she goes to his office to see him. There she meets Bade Babu who tells her about the missing money. Jalpa isn’t going to wait around for her husband’s fair name to be smirched. She sells her necklace and promptly makes a full restitution.

Unaware that all is quiet on the embezzlement front, Ramanath boards the first train out of Allahabad. The train is headed for Calcutta, and Ramanath is aboard with no ticket or cash. When the ticket checker arrives, a friendly co-passenger (Kanhaiyalal) buys him a ticket. It does not take long for the helpful stranger to deduce that his young companion is on the run from the police. This being 1920s India, he assumes that Ramanath is a freedom fighter and running away from the British police! The old man – he is Ramu Kaka (really?!) – had lost two sons to the cause, and feels very sympathetic toward any young man ready to sacrifice himself on the altar of Bharat Mata. Ramanath, naturally, says nothing to disillusion Ramu Kaka.

Once in Calcutta, Ramu gives Ramanath shelter in his home. His wife (Leela Mishra) objects loudly, but her tough exterior hides a marshmallow heart, and she is secretly pleased to be helping a "freedom fighter". Ramanath writes home to reassure his family of his safety, but is too scared of the police to put his return address on the letter. So nobody back home can tell him that it is safe to return home! Their only option is to advertise in the newspapers in Calcutta, hoping that he’ll see the message and return. But they are reluctant to make his embezzlement public, for fear of a scandal. So Jalpa decides to travel to Calcutta to look for him.

So far, except for the songs and Jalpa’s 60s fashions, there had been absolutely no filmi touches to the story. I concluded that the film is following Munshi Premchand’s story to the letter. But the film was only half over, and the embezzlement was already solved. So what happens next? Our Ramanath is clearly a weak and cowardly character, but even he cannot make things any worse than this. I should’ve known better!

Before Jalpa can find him, Ramanath gets caught up in a police versus Congress contretemps on the street. He is taken to the station where the police soon nose out that he is on the run from the law. This comes at a time when the British-Indian police is trying to implicate a group of non-violent Congress workers in a bombing incident. Daroga Khan (Anwar Hussain) has been unsuccessfully trying to get one of the group to turn state’s witness. When he sees Ramanath, he hits upon a brilliant plan. Ramanath will testify about the terrorist activities of his “fellow Congress workers". In return, he will get full immunity for the embezzlement.

Ramanath is quite willing until he realises that he is expected to testify against an old classmate. He'd been assured that these men had indulged in violence, and needed to be convicted. But he knows that his old friend is a firm believer in Gandhi’s policy of non-violent agitation! The police put the screws on him – testify and live in the lap of government sponsored luxury, or refuse and rot in jail for embezzlement. Weak man that he is, Ramanath gives in. While they await the trial, the police start digging into Ramanath’s embezzlement. Imagine their surprise when they find that there is no case against him! If they’ve no hold on him, their star witness will walk out. Their best chance is to make sure that he does not find out until he testifies. So they lock him up in a luxurious bungalow with plenty of wine and women to keep him occupied.

While Ramanath is locked up in his golden cage, Jalpa has been scouring Calcutta for him. She happens to run into Ramu Kaka and finds out that Ramanath is going to give false testimony to escape the charge of embezzlement. They join forces and try to find Ramanath before he testifies. Will they find him in time to stop him from sending a dozen non-violent freedom fighters to their deaths? More importantly, will they find him before the next sad song comes up? Well, there are no more sad songs, but there is buckets-full of drama yet to come.

While Ramanath’s is hardly an admirable character, it is nice to see a “hero” who is so extraordinarily un-heroic! He is not evil, or even bad, yet through his selfishness and cowardice, he brings about enough suffering to make a genuine Gabbar Singh go green with envy. But for all that, I must admit that I do not really hate Ramanath. Perhaps that is something to do with the fact that it is Sunil Dutt on the screen? ;D He does put in a very good performance here. He is very understated throughout and manages to stay off the melodrama, even in the very dramatic climax. The rest of the cast was equally good, and equally restrained. Sadhana only puts in one NAHIIIN face, but that’s when Jalpa loses her jewellery and a situation like that does call for a big NAHIIIN!!!

The film was probably shot over a period of a few years since Sadhana looks sweet and pretty (like she did in early 1960s films like Ek Musafir Ek Haseena) in parts, and rather tired with a deeply furrowed brow, in others. Apart from that discontinuity, the only other jarring feature was the complete lack of period details - everybody was clearly living in the 60s and wearing 60s make-up and dresses. In such a well-made film, that particular detail did annoy me a bit. But for the most part, I was too engrossed by the story to dwell too much on the costume anomaly. For those of you who like a well-told story, you must give this a watch!

Of monsoons and things filmi…

2011-06-22T02:18:00.001-06:00

Have you been wondering whether this blog can be listed as abandoned property? Wonder no more. OiG is still very much alive and well. I’ve just been busy trying to move clouds and have had no time for film-watching or blog visits.

The trouble started when the Monsoons arrived in Calgary. Now, there is only one thing certain about Calgary weather, and that is that you can never predict what it will be like in a day or two, or even an hour or two! But for all it’s famous un-predictability, I doubt if anybody could have foreseen the coming of the Monsoons to this part of the Canadian West. There’ve been days of clouds and rains that would do Bombay proud! And while I am usually fond of clouds and rain, I do prefer to get to work in a relatively dry condition. So, for the last few weeks, I’ve been super busy trying to send the clouds back to Bombay with the power of thought and filmi songs. The latter, I feel, would be the most powerful method to move clouds, but I have hit an unexpected snag there. Every rain song that I can think of, exhorts the clouds to bring on the showers! So I am woefully short of cloud-chasing songs. Can any of you help?

Moving on to other filmi matters, Masala Zindabad now has part 1 of a lively and irreverent discussion between yours truly and hosts Amrita and Beth. We discuss "Iconic Female Characters in Hindi Cinema" and the evolution of the all-important Bhartiya Naari!

It’s a tie

2011-05-07T03:38:00.001-06:00

I haven’t been in much of a film-watching mood, what with all the TV series I needed to catch up on. But today, watching Maha Badmash, one thing caught my interest and made me want to watch more films, if only for academic research. No, it was NOT Vinod Khanna’s famous swimming trunks (and the figure that went with it). It was his stupendous bow tie that intrigued me. Clearly, for a Bollywood hero, a tie is not just a tie but a statement of machismo and size does seem to matter in these things! Here, take a look at it. Can you honestly say that this piece of cloth would not draw your attention?

And here are some other magnificent specimens of said article of clothing. What do you say? How does Vinod Khanna's tie compare with that of the hoi polloi? Does any of them offer any competition to the sheer magnificence of the enormous red bow at his throat?

You think this was just an excuse to post some great tie-candy? You are so wrong. I am dedicated to research in the field of filmi bow ties. Time permitting, I will keep bringing you more fruits of my research. And I would strongly encourage all of you to pay closer attention to this all-important piece of apparel. If you ever see a tie that could rival Vinod Khanna’s record breaking neck-piece, please do bring it to my attention. In the meantime, I will start writing about the ~~men~~ films behind these ties.

Man’s Favorite Sport? (1964) – fishing fun!

2011-03-15T22:57:00.004-06:00

What happens if a leading expert on sport fishing turns out to be someone who’s never been fishing in his life, never even touched a real live fish? If he were a scientist, you’d call him a theoretician. In everyday life, you’d call him a fraud! Sounds fishy? You bet it does. It’s all the fish, you know…

Roger Willoughby (Rock Hudson) may look like Rock Hudson, but he isn’t used to pretty young women following him in the streets. There he is, driving his large convertible to work, like any industrious ~~sex-symbol~~ man should, when he notices a perky little sports car following him. He is puzzled, but drives on to work. In his parking lot, he gets ready to back into his spot and makes an annoying discovery - the pretty young woman (Paula Prentiss) in the sports car has taken unfair advantage of her tiny car’s superior manoeuvrability. She’s grabbed his parking spot! He tries explaining to her that she has violated his right to park-and-go-to-work, but she is unimpressed. He wants the spot? Well, he can try moving her car while she attends to more important things. He tries getting into the tiny car to move it, but though his feats of contortion are of gymnastic proportions, he is unsuccessful. So now Roger is late for work, and to top it all, he gets a parking ticket because his car is not in a parking spot! Little does Roger know it, but this is just the beginning of his troubles.

Unaware of what fate has in store for him, Roger goes in to work. He is a salesman of sports fishing equipment and the city’s leading expert on fishing. All his loyal customers swear by his book - Fishing Made Simple - and depend upon him for the latest fishing tips. Just as he begins dispensing his invaluable fishing advice to a waiting customer, he is summoned by his boss, Mr. Cadwalader (John McGiver). Cadwalader introduces him to two lovely ladies - the lady who stole his parking-spot - Abigail/Abby Page (Paula Prentiss) - and her boss 'Easy' Mueller (Maria Perschy). Abby and Easy have come to invite Roger to the Lake Wakapoogee Fishing Tournament. They need a star for their tournament, and who better than Mr. Fisherman himself? Roger refuses, but Mr. Caldwalader will have none of it. He senses an advertising opportunity for his store and tells Roger to settle the details with the ladies over lunch.

Roger tries his best to get the ladies to rethink their invitation, but he is too busy stumbling over his two left feet to make much headway. When neither straight refusals nor excuses work, a desperate Roger tells Abby and Easy the truth: he has never been fishing in his life! He can give fishing advice with the best of them, but he doesn’t know how to fish. Abby refuses to let such minor details ruin her plans. So what if THE Roger Willoughby cannot fish? The tournament is a few days away. There is time for him to learn! And she can teach him.

Roger is not exactly on board with this plan. He does not want to learn how to fish! But Abby is nothing if not determined. If he won’t join their tournament, she will tell his boss and his loyal customers just how good a fisherman he is. If he wants to keep his job, Roger better cooperate! And so the sport fishing world acquires a new and very reluctant convert. Abby’s plan? Roger will get to Wakapoogee two days before the tournament, stay at Easy’s lodge, and she (Abby) will teach him fishing. But the best laid plans are the ones most likely to go astray, as Roger and Abby soon find out.

Cadwalader instructs Roger to camp outdoors and test some of the store’s camping equipment. So Roger loads up on camping gear and makes his way to Lake Wakapoogee. The trouble with the plan is that poor Roger is just as ignorant of camping as he is of fishing. His efforts at setting-up camp just lead to his tent collapsing upon him. Abby and Easy have to interrupt their snorkelling session to rescue their star fisherman!

Abby manages to convince Roger that anybody who sees him "camping" would know him instantly for a hothouse flower that he is. His cover would be blown! Besides, with the tournament starting in two days, he barely has time to learn fishing. So Roger gives up on the outdoors and moves into a room in the lodge. Abby begins the fishing lessons. Once again, nothing goes smoothly for poor Roger. In addition to his two left feet, he also has two left hands and the worst of bad luck. His fishing lessons go from accident to accident, and Abby spends all her time rescuing him!

The day of the tournament dawns, and neither Abby nor Roger have any hopes of his making it through the tournament with his reputation as a fishing expert intact. He cannot even get into a boat without nearly drowning, how will he ever get round to catching fish? The tournament will go on for days - plenty of time for Roger to get into lots of accidents!

While Roger is grappling with the great outdoors, Abby has troubles of her own. She’s discovered that she has fallen for her bumbling "fisherman" (surprise! surprise!). Roger finds his fishing instructor "strangely attractive" too, but he is already engaged. So what are they to do about their growing attraction? Even more important, what will they do about all the fish that Roger is supposed to catch? Can Roger ever make it through a fishing day without nearly drowning or otherwise doing himself some serious injury?

Now, I’d watch paint drying if Rock Hudson was in it, but I’d much rather watch him in a good romantic comedy. And this one gets almost everything right. Rock Hudson’s Roger Willoughby is a clumsy but sweet and likeable character, someone in dire need of a female knight errant! This makes such a refreshing change from the character of the superior, know-it-all, ladies man that he played in his other (fun but very sexist) romantic comedies – films like Come September, Lover Come Back and Pillow Talk. Unlike the latter, though, the comedy in this film is almost entirely slapstick – not my favourite comedy genre. Roger is just too clumsy for words and most of the film's humour comes from his awkward accidents. I hate to say this, but I must admit that I much prefer the annoyingly sexist Jerry Webster of Lover Come Back – he has a spark that Roger Willoughby does not!

Another thing that struck me was that I did not find any of the other characters in this film particularly memorable. The leading lady did not make much of an impression and the two comic sidekicks - Cadwalader (John McGiver) and John Screaming Eagle (Norman Alden) – struck me as rather lack-lustre. That said, I must admit that I did like this film a lot better on my first watch, several years ago. Maybe the intervening years have raised my expectations. I’d still recommend it to all Rock Hudson fans and anybody who likes their romantic comedies relatively sexism-free!

Every Girl Should Be Married (1948)

2011-03-06T23:05:00.002-07:00

Just when I thought I’d seen every fun Cary Grant comedy there was to see, I came across this. The title is not very promising, but for Cary Grant, I was willing to brave it. Though the film does somewhat live up to the sexist promise of it’s title, it is a novel tale and a pretty fun ride!

Anabel Sims (Betsy Drake) has a very valid question for her bosom buddy Julie (Diana Lynn) – why can't women ask men out, take them out on long drives (and run out of gas), and send them flowers the next day? Julie has no answer, but Anabel decides that there is nothing to stop her from doing just that! It is Dr. Madison Brown’s (Cary Grant) good fortune – though he does not appear to appreciate that – that her eyes light upon him just when she’s made up her mind to ask her Mr. Right on a date.

Dr. Madison had merely dropped by to purchase a baby magazine at Anabel’s lunch haunt. How was he to know that this small detour would endanger his bachelor’s degree? Anabel is rather fond of babies herself, and immediately warms to a man who'd publicly buy a baby digest. When she asks him how many babies he has, he assures her that he has none – because he is not married! So he looks like Cary Grant, loves babies and is unmarried? Naturally he is Anabel’s Mr. Right. And of course, fate plays into Anabel’s hands.

Anabel works at the baby clothes counter in Sanford’s departmental store. When Madison turns up at her counter to order baby booties, she is a bit shaken. But all is soon resolved. She finds out that he is not plain Mr. Right but Dr. Right and is merely buying baby things for a charity. Now that all is sorted out, she just has to convince him that the two of them belong together, and they can live happily-ever-after. But ~~Dr. Right~~ Madison is not on the same page as Anabel and is rather slow to catch up. In spite of two chance meetings, he still does not recognise his true love in her! Undaunted, Anabel sets to work…

She tracks him down to his surgery and tries to get on his patients' list. Dr. Madison makes it clear that his interest in children is strictly professional – he is a paediatrician – and his interest in Anabel is absolutely nil. Anabel refuses to let this setback get her down. She will ask the lovely doctor to be her lawfully wedded groom and he will say yay, come hell or high water!

Since direct tactics are clearly useless, it’s time to strategize. What would make the good doctor sit up and take notice of her? Some healthy competition from a better suitor. This decided, she first sets out to get to know her to-be-groom. She gathers information about his habits, his likes and dislikes, and anything else that may be relevant to her suit. The reconnaissance done, it’s time for operation woo Madison. Anabel 'borrows' an expensive dinner gown from Sanford’s and 'just happens' to turn up for a romantic tryst with an imaginary boy friend at Madison’s favourite restaurant.

This time Madison does recognise her and comes over to say hi. She makes it very clear that she is waiting for a rich, glamorous and very importunate suitor and he must not stay for long. Madison plays along and draws out of her that she is "about to meet the rich and handsome Mr. Roger Sanford", owner of the department store she works in. Then he makes it clear that he does not believe a word of it. He knows she is after him, because she’s been pumping all his contacts for information about him. A lesser woman would’ve abandoned the unappreciative Dr. Madison there and then. But our heroine is made of sterner stuff. She promptly tells him that she merely wanted Roger Sanford to think that she is after him (Madison). If Roger thinks he is likely to lose her to another man, he would propose ASAP.

Madison is quite appreciative of Anabel’s ingenuity and is too polite to tell her that he thinks she is lying. Just as well, since Anabel’s story is unexpectedly supported by Roger Sanford (Franchot Tone) himself. Roger had just come in on a date, but when told by the maître d’ that a lovely young woman has booked a table in his name, he is intrigued enough to ditch his date for this lovely stranger. Madison finds himself summarily dismissed and Roger soon carries away "darling" Anabel for a more intimate evening.

Roger and Anabel’s date does not end happily for either of them. He ends up arguing with the wrong end of a shovel and she ends up having to pay for the expensive gown she'd 'borrowed' from Sanford’s. But Anabel is never one to be daunted by setbacks. A few days later, she is out for lunch when she realises that not only is Madison walking just across the street, Roger Sanford is walking beside her! She seizes the opportunity to ask Roger for a kiss, so Madison can see them together. Madison does, but so does a reporter and his camera. So now Anabel is romantically linked to Roger!

Roger is not happy when a picture of him kissing Anabel makes it to the gossip columns. But once he is convinced that Anabel is really interested in Madison, he is intrigued by her. So Anabel’s plan has worked, and she does have one suitable suitor on string. But it is not the man she’d set her heart on. So Dr. Madison will take some more courting. That is a tough break, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And our Anabel is not one to shirk her duty. Madison must be courted and wedded. He cannot be left to dwindle into an old and lonely bachelor. But will she be able to complete her quest? What about the glamorous and rich Roger Sanford? Doesn’t he deserve saving as much as Madison does? What’s a girl to do in such a tough situation?

Anabel may get into some tough spots, but we have a ton of fun seeing her talk/plan her way out them. I loved the story and thought it was pretty novel and interesting. How often do you get to see a woman initiate and pursue a courtship in your average romantic comedy? What I could’ve done without is how she sets out to woo her doctor by trying to convince him that having a wife would increase his domestic comforts! Since it is a 40s film, I don’t really hold that against it. The only thing that I did object to, rather strongly, was how everybody labeled Anabel’s antics as "trapping a man into marriage", albeit for his own good. So if a man pursues a woman he likes, it’s courtship leading to romance and marriage, but a woman doing so is out to "entrap a man"? Really?! Now if you can ignore such slights to your feminist sensibilities, and for such a fun film and Cary Grant I can ignore a lot more, then I strongly recommend you check this one out!

The haunting: my 10 favourite ghost songs

2011-02-17T21:38:00.001-07:00

There is nothing like a good ghost song to brighten up a warm and sunny day (or a cold and sunny day, as it often is in Calgary). What would you like - a real live ghost? A funny pretend ghost? A real person mistaken for a ghost? Would you like him/her to be evil or benign? No matter what your choice, Bollywood can supply a ghost for every mood. I personally prefer pretend ghosts - of the benign kind - but I am not so picky when it comes to ghostly melodies. Ghosts, it turns out, know their melodies and how to haunt hauntingly. They’ve sung some of my favourite filmi songs. So without further ado, here are ten of my favourite filmi ghosts singing their haunting melodies (or "hunting melodies" as one of my audio cassettes called them!):

10. Har tukda mere dil ka (Yeh Raat Phir Na Aayegi, 1966)

Featuring the sentimental, heartbroken ghost, singing in my favourite singer’s voice (Asha Bhosle). Every piece of her (Sharmila Tagore) ghostly heart cries out to him (Biswajit) for not paying attention to the sound of her breaking heart! Lady, perhaps you should’ve sung this song a few centuries earlier. Bet no one, least of all your beloved, could’ve torn himself away from this hauntingly lovely voice. But then, you wouldn’t have had the chance to go rafting with your ghostly boatman. Haunt away…

9. Main bhookha hoon (Bhoot Bungla, 1966)

This isn’t really much of a song, and I would not even call it particularly tuneful. The video though, is something else altogether. It gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "a twist in the [ghostly] tale"! This is an amazing bunch of spirits who believe in keeping up with the times. No haunting songs, no scary noises – just simple skeletons doing the twist. How perfectly straightforward! Wonder if they’d have performed a skeleton disco if this was filmed in the 80s.

8. Aayega aanewala (Mahal, 1949)

The first and the most famous of all singing spectres in Bollywood’s hall of haunting fame. "He who has to come will come" sings our spectre (Madhubala), and indeed her Gothic hero (Ashok Kumar) does arrive. Not only is this the ghost that launched a thousand songs (Lata Mangeshkar’s and Madhubala’s!), she is also a very unusual ghost. There are no floating white dresses and no flickering candles to warn us of her other-worldliness. She simply relies on her haunting voice and swinging chandeliers to bring on the spookiness.

7. Janam janam ka saath hai (Tumse Accha Kaun Hai, 1969)

While the ghost business in Bollywood is clearly dominated by womenfolk, that does not mean that the stray male does not make his presence felt in the other-world. In this case though, the ghost in question (Shammi Kapoor) is more intent on making his presence felt in this world. And being Shammi, he isn’t content to sing a lovely, haunting song and draw his heroine (Babita) into a spooky ruin. He must show her his cool dance moves, as well. Looks like she is beginning to wonder if this ghost isn’t a tad too substantial to be a spirit, haunting song notwithstanding.

6. Tujhko pukare mera pyar (Neel Kamal, 1968)

An artist (Raj Kumar) is buried alive for the offence of loving a beautiful princess (Waheeda Rehman), and comes back centuries later to haunt her contemporary incarnation – a downtrodden housewife in the 60s. Poor woman! She is reduced from riches to rags in just a few lifetimes, and then stuck with Manoj Kumar. No wonder her centuries old lover’s Rafi-like singing draws her to him, over and over again.

5. Yaara sili sili (Lekin, 1990)

This ghost (Dimple Kapadia) seems to be haunted by ghosts of her own! Why does she walk around singing her lovely "hunting" melody? Can she lay her ghosts only by becoming one herself? I’d love to know the answer to these questions, and so, it appears, would Vinod Khanna. The two of us have so much in common!

4. Mere mehboob na ja (Noor Mahal, 1965)

Bollywood’s very own woman in white! I was so fascinated by the slow moving lady in white and her flickering candle that it took years for me to grasp that she (?) was haunting Jagdeep! A haunted comedian? That is quite an other-worldly side to his comedy! Or did he take to comedy in order to forget his err… haunting past?

3. Naina barse rim-jhim (Woh Kaun Thi, 1964)

A lovely spectre (Sadhana) sings of how her eyes just won’t dry. Perhaps she should try an anti-histamine. That usually takes care of streaming eyes for me! Wait… it never occurred to me, but are there doctors in ghost-land? Or maybe there is another explanation for her tears. She is sad that she is fated to haunt the man (Manoj Kumar) who launched a thousand Bharats, each a lot worse than it’s previous avatar.

2. Sau baar janam lenge (Ustadon Ke Ustad, 1963)

The romantic ghost! He (Pradeep Kumar) sure knows how to lure with lyrics and music. And boy, can he sing! “You and I will be together, even if we need to be re-born a hundred times” So much romance, so much feeling, it tugs at your heartstrings and brings out the gooseflesh. Why, Mohammed Rafi himself couldn’t have done better on a good day! She (Shakila) must find the source of this haunting voice, she must…

1. Kahin deep jale kahin dil (Bees Saal Baad, 1962)

It is official. Biswajit is the most haunted man on the face of this earth. How many others can claim to be followed by so many lovely ghosts? And they all sing so beautifully, too. This spirit wants him to think carefully where he is going, because his path is lit, not just with burning lamps, but also with burning hearts! Is she warning him or enticing him? He needs to investigate. That is why he is following her voice. It has nothing to do with the the fact that this is probably the loveliest of all spectre songs sung by a spirit in Bollywood!

Phas Gaye Re Obama (2010): screwball satire!

2011-02-05T03:09:00.002-07:00

Movies like this make me seriously question the name of this blog! True, older films had so much going for them, but some of the new Hindi comedies make me wonder whether newer ones aren’t even better. This one is almost as good as my other new favourite Tere Bin Laden. It has all the hall marks of a well made screwball comedy but it is also a brilliant satire. From global recession to American business ethics, and Indian politics and it’s murky back waters – Subhash Kapoor spares no one!

The global recession has hit millionaire Om Shastri (Rajat Kapoor) very hard. He’s lost his business and all his millions, and now the bank demands he pay up the mortgage on his house or vacate it. At his wit’s end, Om decides to do something he’d never thought he would – sell his ancestral mansion in India. He has barely a month left to find $100,000 and hopes to raise more than that from the sale of his old haveli. But Om hasn’t bargained on recession hitting the Indian markets and it’s repercussions.

While Om is optimistically traveling to India, hoping to save his home, we see how badly recession has affected India. As the film progresses, the plight of India’s recession-hit gangsters will certainly move you. And we see a LOT of these recession-hit gangsters.

Bhai Saheb (Sanjay Mishra) is a small time gangster who once had a flourishing business in kidnappings, but the recession has put paid to it. Now he has to make ransom calls from a public phone, because he cannot afford to use his cell. When he demands a ransom of Rs. 2,50,000, he is given a counter-offer of Rs. 10,000. Poor Bhai Saheb! All he can do is fondly reminisce about the good 'ol times when even his cooks and drivers were wanted for half a dozen murders each. Now he cannot even afford bullets for his pistols! I’m sure we’ll all sympathise with his heartfelt wish that Obama would do something to keep his recession within his own borders.

Anni (Manu Rishi) is a good gangster and full of innovative ideas. He dreams of going to America one day, and regularly attends his English coaching classes. He’s made friends with Kanhaiya, Om’s nephew, in the hope of finding a sponsor for his American Dream. In the meantime, he has to earn his living. So he kidnaps for Bhai Saheb, and even volunteers to do his first murder to keep the gang’s reputation alive. So what if the murder does not pan out as planned? He gave it his best shot! It’s the recession – everything just backfires…

Ali may not look like it, but he is a dreaded gangster. He may look like one of India’s newest crop of couturiers with his designer locks and daku-couture, but the moment he walks on to the scene, you know that here is someone you must fear. It’s his reputation you know. Bhai Saheb has been in this "business" for years, but Ali is still his 'senior' in spite of his youth. This guy must be the Albert Einstein of dacoity!

Ali may be a daku-genius, but a woman trumps him in the daku-stakes - Munni aka Lady Gabbar (Neha Dhupia). Finally, a daku after my own heart! She is an honest dasyu sundari (dacoit beauty) and takes no nonsense from any male. She heads a ferocious gang of female dakus and is actually a "senior" of Ali’s. So what if she cuts up male statues to fashion female ones? A Dasyu Sundari must have her hobbies. She cannot always be threatening her male prisoners with gang rape!

Minister Dhananjay Singh (Amol Gupte) is a living example of how a true democracy does not let discrimination flourish. He may be a "successful businessman" and a "senior" colleague of Bhai Saheb and Munni’s, but that does not mean that he cannot be a much respected government minister! No no… a good democracy welcomes private enterprise and shows it’s appreciation for good entrepreneurship by moving the entire state machinery to help his err… enterprise.

And all these amazingly enterprising entrepreneurs see Om Shastri as a golden opportunity. He is to be kidnapped and ransomed for a fortune, only, as it turns out, its not his fortune at stake. You see, Om has not wasted his time in America’s corporate jungle. They do not know it yet, but there is a reason why he is well-respected businessman in America – he is their "senior" in the business!

What more can I say about this film? The story, the dialogues, the performances, the music – it all comes together in a mixture of screwball, quirky and plain hilarious in a way that is not seen all that often in comedies. So what are you waiting for? Go watch it!

Nashe main hum – my favourite drink buddies

2010-12-23T23:29:00.001-07:00

The holiday season is upon us - the season of goodwill, the season of Christmas parties, and the season of sub-arctic weather here in Canada. Time for the daaru to begin flowing freely. Naturally, being a good Bhartiya naari, I never touch daaru, but in the right company, I don’t mind drinking it! And the right company can only be other good Bhartiya naaris like me. In other words, they must be good girls because I think that wicked women are just too blasé about everything to enjoy their vices like a good girl can. Considering how many great Bhartiya Naaris Bollywood churns out every year, Hindi films are the best place to find good girls for a pub crawl. But will the good girls agree to imbibe alcohol? Amazingly enough, I found TEN potential drink buddies…

1. Asha (Asha Parekh) from Ziddi,1964

Now here is a woman who knows how to hold her drink. She is drunk enough to dance in company, drunk enough to horrify all her near and dear ones – and yet, she still sings like Lata Mangeshkar with ne’er a note out of place. I wonder if she’ll be able to drive as well as she can sing-n-dance after a few pegs of the best. If yes, then she’ll be the designated driver of our bunch of drink bandis*.

Yeh meri zindagi ek paagal hawa

* bandi = girl/gal.

2. Neena (Leela Naidu) from Yeh Raaste Hain Pyar Ke (1963)

Neena is clearly not happy with the cocktail. Perhaps she’s bothered by the fact that it was stirred and not shaken? Umm… Neena, I would stick to quality wines, preferably Dom Perignon. It’s costly but totally worth it. Or you could just find another bar tender whose cocktails wouldn’t make you so sad. On the other hand, who am I to stop the flow of such melodious melancholy?

Aaj yeh meri zindagi

3. Anarkali (Bina Rai) from Anarkali, (1953)

Anarkali is a straight case for the X-files and I think their team should investigate her unusual affliction as soon as possible. LOVE has intoxicated her! Can you believe that?! Not me. I think it must be alien parasites producing alcohol in her blood, leading to this strange inability to walk straight. Anarkali’s blood analysis might just solve the mystery of life in outer space, once and for all… Of course, we must be prepared to find that there is a very mundane reason for her current state – she is in shock 'coz she just found out that she loves ~~Pradeep Kumar~~ Shehzaada Salim!

Mohabbat mein aise kadam dagmagaye

4. Seema (Asha Parekh) from Pyar Ka Mausam, (1969)

Now don’t misunderstand her – Seema is a good girl, she is! She is only drunk (and in fancy dress) because she had a very difficult task to perform. She had to tell Shashi Kapoor that he cannot hope to look forward to a long and happy life with her. Quite right Seema. I'd have to get drunk to impart such heartbreaking news, too… Shall we go to the Irish pub to drown your sorrows?

Main na miloongi nazar hatalo

5. Nisha (Neetu Singh) from Khel Khel Mein (1976)

Nisha never meant to touch intoxicating substances, but what could she do? She’d met this neat Kapoor and he had to be shown how to hold his drink! And when the guy started babbling about open love, naturally he had to be shown that she was ahead of him all the way. Atta girl! Nisha. Show him how to do it stylishly… (Kullam khula pyar karenge)

6. Reeta (Sadhana) from Intaquam (1969)

Reeta has been sorely wronged and has very just cause for complaint. A rich party and plenty of daaru, yet she hasn’t been allowed to take her fair share of it! What’s girl to do when the teetotaller hubby refuses a second drink? Tunefully ask for more, of course! Reeta, Oliver Twist did not get his second helping, and your chances at the party seem no better. How 'bout joining me in the pub with the rest of the gang? I will make sure that you get all the daaru you want, and you won’t even have to sing for it!

Kaise rahoon chup ki maine pi hi kya hai

7. Jamila (Nutan) from Dil Hi To Hai (1963)

Another Kapoor who’s let a good girl astray! Jamila would never have dreamed of imbibing hiccup-inducing substances if it hadn’t been for the Kapoor company she fell into. Jamila turn back before it’s too late. Return to your favourite wines. If you want something stronger, why not try an authentic margharita (not the crushed ice variety)? It’s guaranteed to never bring on the hiccups. Plus, if you join the drink bandis, you will never have to listen to Mukesh sing!

Tumhari mast nazar

8. Neelu (Mumtaz) from Jheel Ke Us Paar (1973)

We need to help Neelu! She has been captured by and EVIL man (Anwar Hussain) who is making the poor blind girl dance for every sip of sharaab. Hey Ram! What is the world coming to? A girl is no longer free to sip her favourite tipple?! Hang in there Neela. We’re on our way with several baatlis of some great Chianti and some Dom Perignon.

Do ghoont mujhi bhi pilade

9. Roma (Babita) from Kismat (1968)

Friends, here is another woman in deep distress. Vicky (Biswajit) has driven her to filmi-drunk-itis. Note the exaggerated stagger? The disgust with the drink supplied? The well-enunciated Asha Bhosle sounds issuing from the lips? No doubt about it. The girl is in desperate need of a good drink – none of this yellow-tea-flavoured cocktails for her. Fikar not, Roma. Come hang out with us – out here a friend in need gets a good drink indeed!

Aao huzoor tumko sitaron mein le chaloon

10. Anu (Parveen Babi) from Suhaag (1979)

Yet another woman in need... Anu thought she was going to a pub, and then she finds herself with Shashi Kapoor! No wonder the poor girl is confused and can’t even remember her name or address. Anu, I’m coming to rescue you right away. And no, we won’t trouble the rest of the gang. I’m sure I can tackle this Kapoor for you without any help. You just go repair your lipstick while I take care of the Kapoor in the car…

Main to beghar hoon, apne ghar le chalo

Happy Holidays to all of you! And remember, eat responsibly (no more than 1lbs of chocolates per day) and drink only the good stuff. See you again in 2011.

Juari (1968): love, lies and gambles

2010-12-18T00:22:00.008-07:00

In the late 80s, Thursday afternoons used to be red letter-days at home. Back then, DoorDarshan (Indian TV) had begun to telecast unknown old B/W films on Thursday afternoons, in addition to their regular Saturday and Sunday evening film telecasts. The Thursday ones were much better because we could always expect the unexpected – famous actors in unusually fun films with great songs. That’s when I first discovered that Ajit and Prem Nath had once been handsome leading men, that Dara Singh had played hero to Mumtaz and that even Mehmood wasn’t too jarring in his earlier lead roles! And best of all, there were a slew of Shashi Kapoor films. Back then, I remember loving this one to bits. I no longer love it so unconditionally, but I can forgive it’s flaws for the nostalgia it invokes!

Rakesh (Shashi Kapoor) is a gambler and an alcoholic. Since he is the hero, he also has a heart of gold. He may run up huge bills with the corner paanwaala, but when he wins big, he pays up with an open hand, and he never forgets a friend. When his friend Chander (B. B. Bhalla) is behind with his rent, Rakesh empties his pockets for him. And when he hears alcoholic Madho (Chaman Puri) beating his daughter - Renu (Madhavi) - he promptly intervenes. Renu tells him that they have no money for food and are about to be evicted for not paying rent. Rakesh immediately springs into action.

Rakesh tries to borrow money from Bankeylal (Madan Puri), the rich owner of a gambling den. But Bankey is not into philanthropy. He suggests that Rakesh do the usual - gamble for him (Bankey) and earn his cut. That would take time, and Rakesh knows that Renu does not have the luxury of time. He presses Bankey for a loan. One thing leads to another and Rakesh lands up on the footpath, battered and barely conscious. He manages to stumble away, but collapses under a street lamp a short time later. A kindly young woman (Nanda) sees him there and stops to help him.

Next morning, Rakesh wakes up in a strange room, his injuries miraculously healed (did he get hold of Harry Potter’s healing spell?), but no memory of what brought him there. This mystery is soon solved – he finds from Saroj (last night’s helpful young woman) that he had passed out near her house. So she brought him home to sleep off his affliction. (How did Nanda manage to carry Shashi Kapoor?! Magical super powers?). She cooks him a hearty meal and tells him that she likes helping people. Rakesh takes her at her word and calmly purloins a gold necklace he finds hanging in her cupboard!

Rakesh pawns the necklace, and goes back to Bankey's den. They play what looks like three-card poker all night, and Rakesh ends up with all the money. In funds again, he goes to make his apologies to Saroj. But Saroj has got her necklace back, already! He explains that he stole it to help Renu, but her family was already evicted and gone by the time he got home with the money. And he wasn’t even able to redeem the necklace! Saroj kindly tells him that he did no wrong because he was only trying to help someone. Rakesh is enchanted – here’s the kind of woman he thought was extinct. And she is interested in him, too, because she asks him about the woman he mentioned in his drunken mutterings. Cue for a flashback to Rakesh's happier times.

A few years ago, Rakesh was an upstanding idealist. He was deeply in love with the beautiful Sumitra (Tanuja). But there was a fly in the ointment - Chary (Rehman), a rich older man, was also in love with Sumi. She enjoyed his attention while poor Rakesh was consumed with jealousy. One evening, Sumitra chattered a bit too much about Chary - his wealth and his social standing - and Rakesh’s jealousy got the better of him. When Sumi asked to be reassured that their love would last, Rakesh told her that there are no guarantees of lasting love without wealth! She walked off in a huff, and married Chary soon after. This wasn't the end of Rakesh's troubles. His father (Kamal Kapoor) arranged his marriage with a rich girl, but Rakesh refused to be bartered for dowry. Father disowned him in the best khandaani tradition, and now Rakesh does not even have the comfort of Ma’s (Achla Sachdev) love. So now, he's taken to gambling because life is but a gamble. (And here I thought it was a stage - one lives and learns!)

Saroj's sympathy is exactly what the doctor prescribed for Rakesh's gambling heart. The two start meeting often, going on picnics and long drives interspersed with songs. Naturally, picnics and long drives lead to them falling in love. When things get too cosy this early on in the film, trouble is bound to be round the corner. Here, it takes the form of Saroj’s mysterious past. She begins to tell him her life story, but they're interrupted and the topic is never resumed. One evening, when Rakesh walks into Saroj’s home, he is greeted by Bankey! The latter explains that he brought Saroj here from an obscure village, and implies that he and Saroj are lovers. Rakesh is stunned. The two are just getting down to a manly conversation with fisticuffs, when Saroj walks in. Rakesh asks her about Bankey and she unwittingly confirms the latter's story by admitting that he brought her to Bombay from her village. Without further ado, Rakesh is convinced that Saroj really was using him as the "beautiful idiot" that Bankey called him.

A disillusioned and heartbroken Rakesh checks into a hotel and settles down to some serious drinking and angsting. But even here, there is no peace for him. His angsting is unceremoniously interrupted by loud music from next door. He belligerently walks over to demand a noise shut-down - and who does he meet next door but his former neighbour Renu! She is now a cabaret dancer in the hotel and was dancing with her boyfriend. Rakesh forgets all his anger and Renu is delighted to see her kindly benefactor again. She insists on taking him home with her – a home that is amazingly father-free and brother-free…

Rakesh tells Renu that he is tired of honesty and idealism, and needs to try something else (stealing and gambling were obviously not enough). Renu suggests a plan – she will introduce him to some rich men and he must lie a LOT to impress them. It sounds a bit thin to me, but it clearly works. Next thing we know, Rakesh is a rich businessman newly arrived in Delhi. His pictures are all over the papers and attract a lot of attention in the right quarters. He gets invited to all the best parties and gets to gamble with Delhi’s richest. To top it all, the rich Princess Sabita (Naaz) is completely smitten with him. She even threatens to go into a decline if he won’t party with her! At her party he runs into Sumitra – the woman who first broke his heart. Sumi, it turns out, is not altogether happy in her marriage. Her husband is not the romantic that Rakesh was, and the wealth she'd admired before marriage is now poor compensation for giving up Rakesh. She tells Rakesh that she still loves him and would like a second chance. But he has moved on to bigger and better heartbreaks, and no longer cares for Sumi.

Delhi seems chockfull of women from Rakesh’s past! Just after he spurns Sumi’s re-offered love, he hears from Ramu Chacha (David) that Saroj is also in town. She is unwell and would like to see him. Chacha had earlier tried persuading Saroj to tell Rakesh the truth about their misunderstanding. But Saroj was adamant that she will not defend herself. Rakesh must recognise the truth himself, otherwise he’ll never believe it! Rakesh comes to call on Saroj - he may hate her, but he always discharges his debts and he owes Saroj a lot for picking him off the streets and caring for him. (Maybe he is also curious about how she carried him from the footpath?). Well, nobody could accuse Rakesh of discharging his debts any more than dutifully! He is cold and distant to poor Saroj and leaves her in tears. Aah Rakesh, your life is getting complicated, isn’t it? All these women, all the lies and tangled emotions... Where will it all end? Interestingly enough, after some melodrama, Rakesh's story finally ends in a murder trial! His life story has almost as many twists and turns as a good piece of fiction!!

It is, on the whole, a pretty well made film. The songs are lovely, all the performances are pretty good, and the plot moves along at a fast pace. The little melodrama at the end is also very well done and serves as a fitting climax to the film. What is more, in certain aspects, it is surprisingly modern! For instance, the cabaret dancer Renu is shown to have a devoted admirer and she is never given the "fallen woman" treatment by anybody. Then there is Sumitra. She is allowed to marry for money, get disillusioned with her husband and try for a second chance with a former boyfriend. And she is neither bumped off at the end, nor does her husband ever stop loving her for her infidelity! Even Saroj, for all her Bhartiya Naari goodness, never offers an explanation of her past and actually gets an apology at the end.

My only problem with story, and the reason why I don't love this film a lot, is with the hero. Rakesh is rather full of self-pity and has a very black and white view of the world that he insists on imposing over every situation. It irks me that given his own questionable ethics, his perception of the people around him is never tempered with the slightest understanding of human failings. Considering that he embraces several vices himself – including stealing and gambling – I find the moral high ground that he takes, rather hypocritical. A little less talk of "truth" and "honesty" from him would have made him a lot more likeable!

Kala Bazar (1960) - white-hearted people in a black market...

2010-12-12T19:11:00.005-07:00

This is a film that I see once every few years. In between watches, I do remember that it’s a great film and I love it, but on re-watch, I’m always surprised at how good it actually is! It has so much goodness going on (Dev+Waheeda = yummy!) that I tend to forget some of it’s not-to-be-missed scenes – like the premiere of Mother India and how relevant it is to the plot.

Raghu/Raghuvir (Dev Anand) is a poor bus conductor with an ailing mother (Leela Chitnis – who else?!) and two siblings (Nanda and unknown child actor). When he loses his job, hunger and destitution stare him in the face. In his desperate search for a means to earn money, he passes by a cinema theatre where he encounters Kalu (Rashid Khan) selling movie tickets in black. This sparks off an idea. He will buy movie tickets in advance from the theatre and sell them to the public at a much higher price just before the show!

He finances his new venture by robbing a stranger (Chetan Anand) of Rs. 5000. With the capital secured, Raghu goes around recruiting people for his new enterprise. He soon has Kalu, Jaggu (Jagdish Raj) and several others on team Raghu. They buy up a lot of tickets of Mother India’s premiere show at Liberty. There follows a lovely integration of fact and fiction – as the stars start arriving at the theatre (yes we see a lot of them!) the demand for Raghu’s tickets goes on increasing. By the time Nargis arrives (with her brother Anwar Hussain), he is auctioning his tickets to the highest bidder! In one stroke, he’s converted his five grand to twenty grand. After this, there is no looking back for Raghu. He takes over the black marketing of cinema tickets for every theatre in Bombay. His only serious competitor is Ganesh (Madan Puri) whom he cleverly outwits and then strong-arms into becoming his associate.

From a poor, unemployed man, Raghu is now a rich entrepreneur. And he might have gone on raking in the cash had it not been for one chance encounter. He sees the dazzlingly beautiful Alka (Waheeda Rehman) tearing up cinema tickets that her boyfriend Nand (Vijay Anand) had bought in black. Naturally this makes a deep impact on Raghu. When she reads Nand a strong lecture against dealing with black marketeers, we can perceive that the dent she made in Raghu’s heart has become a permanent crater. Raghu seems to think so too, because he follows her home to find out who she is. He soon shifts to a flat close to her home and makes it his business to eavesdrop on Alka and Nand whenever possible.

From his eavesdropping/stalking activities, Raghu gathers a lot of useful information. He finds that Alka and Nand are college classmates, and love each other in an easy, affectionate way. They love talking about books (my kind of people!) and their book chats prompt Raghu to begin reading as well. After months of following them around (how do they not notice the bepuffed stalker?), Raghu finally sees a ray of hope for his own chances with Alka. Nand is going abroad for a couple of years and the young lovers have sensibly decided to let the separation be a test of their attachment. Raghu is convinced that Nand will not return to India, and starts planning to woo Alka.

After Nand’s departure, Alka’s parents take her to Ooty to cheer her up. Raghu follows them, managing to snag a berth in their train compartment. Operation woo Alka is soon underway. After surreptitiously serenading her with Apni to har aah ek toofan hai, he gets in solid with her Pa (who is this actor?) by curing the latter’s backache. Having secured a friendly foothold with her family, Raghu begins to shower attention on Alka. She is affronted at first. Then, as she grows to know and like him, she is amused and flattered. Yet she is steadfast in her vows to Nand and resists the temptation to succumb to Raghu (and she is sorely tempted). With great resolve, she tells him that she loves another, and that he must go away.

A sad Raghu returns home to find that his ailing mother is now very close to death. Fearing that he is being punished for his sinful profession, he decides to reform. His first task is to return the Rs. 5000 he stole from the stranger (Chetan Anand) all those years ago. Then, he persuades his gang members to give honest labour a try. After one day of back-breaking work for meagre returns, most of them vote to resume black marketing. But with determination and perseverance, nothing is impossible - and Raghu is determined to reform himself and all his associates. He mixes in some martyrdom with a little bit of Gandhi-giri and soon has most of his misguided associates firmly on the straight and narrow. Together they open their Safed Bazaar (White Market) – the world’s first filmi fair-trade marketplace.

With his black marketing days behind him, Raghu is a changed man. He trades in his fancy suits for simple kurta-pyjamas, his conscience is clear, his Maa’s health is improving, but he still hankers after Alka. And then, on a rainy day in Bombay, he runs into her. After two long years, suddenly Raghu has cause for happiness! He can see his Alka often, and realises that she is more in love with him than with her absent boy friend. But she still insists on waiting for her Nand. Just when he convinces her to break it off with the vilaayati boyfriend, the latter turns up to ruin all his well-laid plans. And that isn’t all. Raghu must still pay for his crimes. Lest you worry about poor Raghu, let me assure you that he lives a long, happy and honest life – nobody with such a monsoon-resistant puff can be defeated by anything as trivial as life’s trials and tribulations. And naturally, fortune favours those who favour their puffs.

The most remarkable thing about the film (apart from it’s great plot and lovely songs) is the heroine. She says things like like “I am not a Sati-Savitri that I’ll keep on forgiving” and she isn’t punished for being an evil, Westernised woman! What’s more, she is allowed to fall for two men, and decide between them. *gasp* and double *gasp*! And that isn’t all – the only time our hero is in deadly peril, she gets to rescue him!!! If I did not already love this film to bits, this alone would make me fall for it. But the film has a lot more going for it than just that. Raghu’s rags-to-riches and riches-to-rags story is depicted intelligently and with a lot of empathy. He himself is a very well-drawn character – intelligent, compassionate and one who never fails to learn any of life’s lessons. And Dev Anand plays it with great charm and a light touch that makes him such a delight to watch in his better days. The only time director Vijay Anand lets Dev Saab get out of hand is with his "physical emoting" in the songs – but we will not talk about it. What is a muscular degenerative disease or two when you can admire him the rest of the time?

For all it’s goodness, I must admit that the last 15 minutes of the film could have been much better done. Vijay Anand’s writing makes it’s point subtly, for the most part, but in the climax it trades in that subtlety for a battering ram. And the melodrama is not even particularly well-done. While the brothers Anand shine in lighter moments, none of them seems to be able to carry off melodrama. Chetan Anand makes a valiant effort to imbue lawyer Desai’s last plea for clemency with passionate feeling, but sounds more like an actor reluctantly mouthing poor dialogues! And in the final scenes, Dev Anand looks like he is in full dress rehearsal for Guide! But if there ever was a film that can be easily forgiven for a badly done climax, this is it. I won’t be waiting for another few years before I re-watch it – Waheeda Rehman and Dev Anand will call me to it a lot sooner, I’m sure!

PS: This is the only time I’ve ever seen Geeta Dutt on screen!

Mini reviews – 2010 edition

2010-12-05T23:23:00.001-07:00

Between my new job and my new car, I’ve not had the time or the energy to update the blog very often. But today, chatting with Beth and Amrita about films reminded me of my priorities. Life is too short to watch movies and not write about them. And since I don’t want to waste time deciding which of my recent watches I should write about, I’m going to write about as many as I can squeeze into one post! So here goes…

Do Dooni Char (2010)

The first thing I knew about this film was that it would bring Neetu Singh back to the screen after a quarter of a century. (No, a mute guest appearance does not count!) I was really excited at the prospect. And when I read some more about it in the blogosphere, I realised that I had more reasons to look forward to it than just Neetu Singh’s "return". The film promised a heart warming story and great performances. After watching it, I must say that it delivers on it promise, and then some!

Santosh Duggal (Rishi Kapoor) is an underpaid Maths teacher in a private school in Delhi. He travels everywhere on his trusted two-wheeled scooter and is ever willing to explain why it’s better than a car. One fine day, wife Kusum (Neetu Kapoor) impulsively promises his sister that they will visit her in a car. And thus begins Mr. Duggal’s struggle to go from two wheels to four. Along the way, everybody in the family learns important life lessons and gets to have some of their wishes fulfilled. It’s a film cast in the mould of old Hrishikesh Mukherjee family comedies of yore - an interesting story, peopled with lovable characters, and told with generous helpings of humour.

Apart from the superb performances of the entire cast, what I liked most was seeing a Delhi that seems to have disappeared completely from both the big and the small screens. It’s the Delhi I grew up in, Santosh Duggal is the Maths teacher I remember having in high school (we used to call ours “Pandubbi” (submarine) because his name was Mr. Pandey and he was rather rotund), Kusum and Mrs. Farooqui were the Aunties I remember living next door to, and I could understand Payal (Aditi Vasudev) and Deepu’s (Archit Krishna) dissatisfaction with their father’s scooter!

Anjaana Anjaani (2010)

Akash (Ranbir Kapoor) is an ambitious New York stock-broker who loses all his and his partners’ monies in a stock market crash. Kiara (Priyanka Chopra) is a heart-broken young woman whose relationship with her childhood sweetheart (Zayed Khan) has just broken up before their dream wedding. Akash and Kiara meet on the Brooklyn Bridge where they’re both trying to commit suicide in the tried and tested jump-off-the-bridge manner. Alas for them, their attempt comes to naught. They separate and try again, with a different modus operandi, but only succeed in injuring themselves. Both land up in the same hospital where they once again bump into each other. One thing leads to another, and before you can find a synonym for “suicide pact”, the two have decided to commit suicide together. And you’d be hard put to find a more inept pair of amateur suicides! None of their attempts prove successful. Kiara takes this as a sign that they must wait for a more propitious moment and convinces Akash to postpone The End. The two agree to wait 20 days and die on New Year’s Eve. In the meantime, they decide to do things they’ve always wanted to do, but never have. Any guesses on what they will finally end up doing together?

Apart from Priyanka’s perfect make-up and hairdo after surviving each suicide attempt (and that includes an accident and a stomach pump), I really have no fault to find with the film. The characters and their stories all make sense in a romantic comedy context, the dialogues are fairly good and so are the performances. Still… the film just does not light up the screen. Maybe it does not have the necessary je ne sais quoi? Or maybe I am just not moved by self-destructive yuppies? Whatever the reason, the film left me feeling rather lukewarm about the characters and their relationships.

Tere Bin Laden (2010)

Intelligent comedy (as opposed to screwball comedy) is very rare in Bollywood. So I was delighted to discover this hilarious spoof on the media’s modus operandi and the ramifications of international manhunts post 9/11. Ali Hassan (Ali Zafar) is a budding Pakistani journalist whose dream is to go to the USA. Sadly, the USA does not reciprocate his feelings. So poor Ali is reduced to covering fowl contests in Karachi’s rural backyard, while he searches for the means to get to America. Jamal (Rajendra Sethi) at Lashkar-e-Amreeka (Invading USA since 2002!) offers some hope. But for Ali to invade Amreeka, tons of cash is needed. Luckily for Ali, fortune favours those who dare to dream. Amidst the fowl, Ali discovers a true gem – an Osama bin Laden look-alike (Pradhuman Singh). From there to making a fake bin Laden videotape and selling it as a big scoop for tons of cash doesn’t take the enterprising reporter very long. But just when Ali seems all set to invade Amreeka, it turns out that Amreeka is coming half way round the world to meet Pakistan – with ammunition enough to destroy the whole country! What went wrong? Can Ali set it to right? Will Ali and the USA ever achieve their happily-ever-after?

It’s a very entertaining and satisfying watch. The pace never falters and the plot never takes a wrong step. From poking fun at news channels and their "scoops" and "breaking news" to taking pot shots at the War on Terror, the film’s satirical lens spares nobody. The result is pure fun. It’s no wonder the film has garnered so much critical acclaim and box office success. The star of the film is undoubtedly Pradhuman Singh, who plays the fowl-minded country bumpkin Noora aka fake bin Laden so brilliantly. But the rest of the cast has also done a great job. I loved Ali Zafar as the enterprising Ali, and have since also discovered that he’s sung some of my favourite Pakistani pop songs. Here’s hoping he shows up in more Bollywood films.

I have also been watching my beloved old Hindi films and will be writing them up too. So look out for an oldies edition of Mini Reviews – coming very soon!

Mahal (1949) – mystery, madness and melodrama

2010-11-21T00:15:00.005-07:00

I’ve always maintained that if you wish to see the maximum number of deranged characters in one film, you need to look up Wuthering Heights. But after watching this film, I can assert positively that you don’t need to go so far back in time, or so far from the Indian shores either, to find your fill of dangerously unstable people! I’d seen this film long ago and my dim distant memories warned me that it isn’t a film I liked a lot. But it’s hard to resist the combined appeal of Dada Mani, Madhubala and the lovely music. So I re-watched - with mixed results.

The story begins on a dark and stormy night in Allahabad, in a mansion that looks like it ought to be haunted. Our hero – Hari Shankar (Ashok Kumar) - walks in from the rain, to inspect his newly purchased mansion. The mansion’s caretaker, Mali (Kumar), greets him with the story of a haunting love drama played out here, 40 years ago. The riverside mansion was built for the lovely Kamini whose lover crossed the river to come meet her every night. One night, he was caught in a storm on the river and drowned. But before he perished, he managed to shout to Kamini that he would be back for her in another lifetime. Kamini herself drowned in the river, not long after.

Shankar explores his new domain and discovers a portrait of the previous owner. He is amazed to see that the tragic lover is the spitting image of himself, with a beard and moustache attached! Unlike most Bollywood heroes, Shankar is well versed in masala traditions, and immediately deduces that he must be a reincarnation of the dead man. Right on cue, he hears a female voice singing a haunting melody. He follows the sound to find that the singer is a young beauty (Madhubala) who appears and disappears mysteriously, and sings of her lover’s eventual arrival. A quick reality check via contact with the burning end of his cigarette convinces him that he is not dreaming. His friend Shrinath (Kanu Roy) arrives soon after this and finds him in a disturbed state. He tries to persuade Shankar that the ghostly atmosphere of the mansion has affected him – he is NOT the reincarnation of the male half of the mansion’s tragic lovers and he has NOT found the spirit of the female half.

Shrinath’s sensible arguments die an untimely death when the ghostly Kamini (Madhubala) turns up and proves beyond doubt that she is a real, live spirit (if spirits can be said to live). So now Shrinath takes a different tack – Shankar must remember that his life belongs to his betrothed. He convinces Shankar to return home to Kanpur, while he disposes of the poisonous mansion. Shankar starts for Kanpur, but as the train pulls up at Naini, he realises that he should get off it. (I wonder if it’s because he realises that Naini is South East of Allahabad and he needs to go North West to get to Kanpur?) Next thing we know, he is back in the haunted mansion with Kamini-spirit.

The ever vigilant Shrinath rescues him before he can compromise himself with a ghost, but the respite is only temporary. Perceiving that talk of slow poison of the ghostly variety cuts no ice with the now-obsessed Shankar, he decides to give his friend the cure-by-tawaiyaf treatment. Sadly for him, while the cure proved effective in several cases of filmi insanity, it does not so much as dent Shankar’s obsession. He leaves a perfectly good mujra to go home to Kamini’s spirit. And Kamini isn’t slow to respond to his overtures. She tells him that they can be together in this lifetime, if he will only get her the body of a female he might like. When he indignantly refutes any suggestion of liking any female but her, she suggests that he check out caretaker Mali’s daughter, Asha. If he likes her looks, he must kill her so that Kamini-spirit can enter the body and the two lovers can be united.

Just when Shankar is all set to kill Asha, Shrinath comes in with the big guns, and that is the end of our hero’s romantic struggle. Shankar is soon married to his fiancée Ranjana (Vijaylakshmi). Defeated he may be, but Shankar is by no means reconciled to his wedded fate. He is unable to get close to his new bride – Kamini is still so much in his thoughts that he can’t even bring himself to unveil his bride and see her face! The incensed Ranjana decides that she will leave her veil on until he lifts it. And so life goes on. Shankar tries in vain to forget Kamini-spirit who sings sad songs of lost love, and poor Ranjana despairs of ever finding out what ails her husband or ever being at the receiving end of his attentions.

I will say no more because I don’t want to spoil the story for those of you who haven’t seen the film yet. As the story unfolds, you realise that things are a whole lot more complicated than you expected, with unusual twists and turns. It’s a very taut, well-told story and confirms to almost every sacred canon of good thriller-making. Right from scene one, it grabs your attention and keeps you on tenterhooks with well-crafted twists as the plot builds up to it’s climax. Unfortunately, the climax is rather disappointing with a great deal of needless melodrama in the last 10 minutes of the film – something that effectively ruins it for me, in spite of Ashok Kumar’s superb performance and the absolutely gorgeous music.

Apart from it’s claim to fame for being one of the first Hindi mystery thrillers, the film is also famous for catapulting Lata Mangeshkar (and Madhubala) into Hindi film world’s big league. So I was not surprised to find that each and every song – and there are many of them - is a gem. I grew up listening to most of them, particularly Aayega aanewaala and Mushkil hai bohut mushkil. What did surprise me, though, was how good the background score was – it was hauntingly beautiful and just right for the plot.

Having said all that, I must admit that Mahal will never make it to a list of my favourite movies, and not just because I dislike the climax. While the plot is very well written and executed, the characters themselves are far from likeable. The three main protagonists come over as rather self-absorbed and three parts insane! The writing makes a commendable effort to show us that Shankar’s experience in the haunted mansion had a profound psychological effect on him, and that everything else is a logical outcome of that, but he still comes over as mentally unstable and ripe for all the drama that follows. By the end, I really did not care whether Shankar, Kamini and Ranjana achieved happiness or not. However, there is no denying that it is a remarkable film, well worth watching for it’s unusual plot, lovely music, great cast, and stunning cinematography. So if you haven’t already seen it, you really should!

Utsav (1984) – festive entertainment!

2010-10-28T02:18:00.002-06:00

I usually shy away from writing about films that I like a LOT because I find myself gushing about everything I liked in them! This is one such film. I like everything about it - the story, the acting, the costumes, the sets, the actors, everything! But it’s Rekhatober, and I was determined to write about at least one film that was a worthy showcase of her talents. This film not only showcases her skilful performance, it’s a very satisfying film on the entertainment and aesthetic counts as well. (I warned you... I WILL gush!)

The film is based on two classical Sanskrit plays - Bhāsa’s Charudatta, written about 1700 years ago, and adapted by Śudraka a century later into Mricchakatika. The Sutradhaar* (Amjad Khan) introduces the various characters in this complex narrative, and then takes the stage as Rishi Vātsyāyana, author of the Kamasutra. Here’s the tale he tells...

The spring festival (Vasanta Utsav) is near and our fictional town is teeming with activity, even at night. The beautiful courtesan Vasantsena (Rekha) is fleeing from the importunate Samsthanak (Shashi Kapoor), the King’s brother-in-law. Revolutionary Aaryak (Kunal Kapoor) and his nameless political adviser (Kulbhushan Kharbanda) are roaming the streets, plotting a revolution against the cruel King Paalak. The masseur, Teli (Annu Kapoor), is busy gambling and losing money he does not have. Thief Sajjal (Shankar Nag) is paying a call on his beloved Madhulika (Neena Gupta). And in the impoverished Brahmin Charudatta’s (Shekhar Suman) house, his friend Maitrey (Harish Patel) is bemoaning their mutual lack of funds.

Charudatta’s wife and child are away at her parents’ place and he is urging Maitrey to take the servant girl Radha (Gopi Desai) there, since his wife cannot cope without a servant. After much grumbling, Maitrey agrees. Maitrey and Radha leave the house just as Vasantsena runs into their street. She hides in the dark nook of Charudatta’s house and the pursuing Samsthanak jumps on poor Radha, mistaking her for Vasantsena in the dark. Radha’s screams attract the attention of Aaryak who fells Samsthanak with a well-placed right hook. Radha and Maitrey depart for their destination and a discomfited Samsthanak hobbles away with his psychophant (Anupam Kher).

Oblivious to all this drama close to his house, Charudatta is busy playing his flute. And just as Vasantsena decides to leave, he breaks into a song that holds her transfixed. The song exercises such a strong pull on her that she walks straight into the house. Charudatta hears her step and assumes that Radha has returned. He orders “Radha” to bring his shawl and when “Radha” drapes the shawl around his shoulders, he realises his error. One look at Vasantsena in all her glorious beauty and Charudatta is reduced to,“Me Charudatta, you beautiful.” Vasantsena is also powerfully affected, but manages to explain her predicament.

The threat of Samsthanak safely past, Vasantsena needs to return home. She reluctantly takes her leave, and then remembers that it’s not safe to wander alone at night with all her gold jewellery on. So naturally, she turns back to leave her jewels with Charudatta for safe-keeping. Her complex jewellery requires complicated manoeuvres to get off her person. It necessitates lying down to untangle her chains, and a great deal of kissing and cuddling, too! (No we do NOT see the kissing! :D)

The night past, the scene shifts to the house of pleasure where Vasantsena resides with her fellow courtesans and their “Maa”. Vatsyayana is holding forth on the philosophy of sex and pleasure, and answering questions from the courtesans. He comes there to research the various asana/mudra* for his Kama Sutra, and explains to the interested courtesans that he’s stuck on the 28th asana. His disciple interrupts the learned discourse and urgently summons him upstairs to peep into one of the house’s pleasure chambers. And lo! Vatsyayana has discovered the 29th asana.

Just outside the house, Teli is unsuccessfully trying to sell himself to pay his gambling debts. He is saved by Aaryak’s friend - the nameless political adviser whom we’ll refer to as AF (Aaryak’s friend). AF engages Teli’s creditors in a fight while he escapes. They meet behind the house and AF requests Teli to help the revolutionaries. Teli is a royal masseuse and can help the revolutionaries enter the palace to stage a coup. But Teli does not want to be drafted in an army! To escape, he climbs the house and hides under a bed. He hears Maa berate Vasantsena for neglecting rich Samsthanak and smiling on the the impoverished Charudatta. When Teli is discovered soon after, to avoid being thrown out, he blurts out that he is Charudatta’s servant. He explains that he is hiding to escape his creditors. Vasantsena immediately comes to his rescue! He is asked to rest, while Vasantsena’s maid, Madhulika (Neena Gupta), goes out and pays off his debts. Overcome by gratitude, he confesses to Vasantsena that he doesn’t know Charudatta from Adam, and then sets out to renounce the world!

While Vasantsena is lost in dreams of her Charudatta, his wife Aditi (Anuradha Patel) and child Rohit (Master Manjunath) return home. Charudatta is hard-pressed to hide the signs of Vasantsena’s nocturnal visit - her jewels are still lying at his home! He avoids detection, thanks to a distraction outside the house. But it’s only a short reprieve. Thief Sajjal is out to steal a fortune so he can can buy his Madhulika from Vasantsena. He fetches up at Charudatta’s home, and finds his fortune in the bundle of Vasantsena’s jewels that he gets from a sleepy Maitrey. When Maitrey discovers the theft, he inadvertently lets slip the secret about Vasantsena’s sojourn in the house. An angry Aditi ups and leaves home.

A triumphant Sajjal takes the jewels to Madhulika, boasting that he can buy a dozen Madhulikas with all this gold. Madhulika recognises the jewels and is terrified that they’ll both be convicted of theft. To avoid jail, she suggests that he pretend to be Charudatta’s servant and return the jewels to Vasantsena. One of the house servants overhears their conversation and let’s Vasantsena know. So, when she is given the jewels by the latest in the series of "Charudatta’s servants", she rewards him by gifting him Madhulika. The jubilant couple leave to get married and start living happily-ever-after, but their joyous plans are interrupted by AF. He wants Sajjal to get into the palace and free Aaryak who was captured by the King’s soldiers after a street-fight. Only an experienced thief could break through the royal door-locks. Sajjal isn’t too keen, but AF entices him by suggesting that his help will ensure Sajjal an immortal place in history. So Madhulika, and their marriage plans, are temporarily abandoned, while he goes about earning his place in history.

We’ll let Sajjal earn his immortality, and go back to the big romance. Before leaving, Aditi had handed her last valuable jewel - a necklace - to Maitrey. He was to hand it over to Vasantsena in lieu of her stolen jewels. So Maitrey comes to Vasantsena with the necklace and news of the theft. Vasantsena grasps the most important point of Maitrey’s speech - that Charudatta is alone at home. Off she goes to meet him! While Charudatta and Vasantsena rekindle their romance in his budoir, Samsthanak is planning to finally start his romance with her. Vasansena’s “Maa” advises him to woo the lady, rather than pursue her with harsh demands. She tells him to send a covered wagon for Vasantsena on the morrow, and wait in the park for her.

Blissfully unaware of her projected romance with Samsthanak, Vasantsena prepares to leave Charudatta’s house for her own. It’s Vasant Utsav, and she has things to do. But Charudatta won’t have it. They will get away from the festivities in the city and hide in the park all day. He goes off to the park, promising to send a covered wagon to convey her there after him. The moment he leaves, Aditi returns. It turns out that she was not really offended by Charudatta’s infidelity. She is, in fact, quite proud of having a husband who can attract a beauty like Vasantsena! The two women bond over jewellery and breakfast, unaware of the troubles waiting for them, just around the corner.

Charudatta sends his covered wagon, but in the confusion of the festivities, Vasantsena boards Samsthanak’s wagon by mistake. She makes it to the park, and instead of her beloved Charudatta, finds Samsthanak waiting for her! In terror, she turns to flee, calling out to Charudatta to save her. Sadly for her, her lover is too lost in his dreams (of her!) to hear her cries. Samsthanak catches up with her, and in a jealous rage, strangles her. Charudatta finally does come upon the scene - attracted by Samsthanak’s loud weeping over Vasantsena’s death. Samsthanak promptly orders his arrest, claiming that Charudatta is responsible for Vasantsena’s death! And before we know it, poor Charudatta is sentenced to death by beheading.

What will happen to poor Aditi? Will she be left alone with Rohit? Will Aaryak finally manage his revolution? Will Vatsyayana chalk up any new asanas in his favorite house of pleasure? How is Teli’s grand renunciation working out? And do we even care what happens to the loutish Samsthanak? It’s a wonderfully complex story with all the threads intertwined into an intricately layered narrative. And you can see where modern masala films get their inspiration from. Classical Sanskrit drama seems to run the gamut of every possible emotion - from romance and humor, wickedness and melodrama to tragedy and joy, even singing-n-dancing and dishoom-dishoom!

Now let me list some of things I love about this film... A lot of effort is expended on adding appropriate period touches - from the costumes and sets inspired by medieval Hindu temples, to small things like the gaily-coloured ox-drawn wagons and the quaint little lamp-lanterns used to light the way. The dialogues are beautifully written in very simple, but completely Sanskritised Hindi - not a word that could’ve been derived from Persian/Arabic. The fights are beautifully choreographed and play out like a martial ballet!

Rekha is superb as the lovely Vasantsena. The camera tends to focus a lot on her face and catches every subtle nuance of Vasantsena’s expression - her fear of Samsthanak, her love and desire for Charudatta, her yearning for a child like Rohit, and her deep hurt at the realisation that she does not really belong with Charudatta and Aditi, no matter how welcoming they may be. The actors are all, in fact, wonderfully understated - quite an achievement considering all the melodrama involved in the tale! My favourite was Amjad Khan as Vatsyayana of the twinkling eyes and 'academic' interest in sexual positions.

I have only one bone to pick with the film - I wish they’d got a more charismatic actor to play Charudatta. Shekhar Suman turns in a very good performance, but he looks painfully raw and it’s a bit hard to imagine that the lovely Vasantsena is attracted to him! That minor nit-pick apart, I love this film (you wouldn’t have guessed that!) - every single minute of it! Why aren’t there more such films?

*sutradhaar - literally ‘holder of all the narrative threads/strings’ and in classical Sanskrit drama, the narrator and director of the play.
*asana/mudra - body positions, in this case, sexual ones

Taaqat (1982) – artsy masala?

2010-10-22T20:44:00.002-06:00

What happens when a masala film starts appearing to be reasonable and logical - and not in a masala sense, either? Does it mean it’s time to get a thorough mental check-up? Or does it mean that the film really is as logical and reasonable as a film can be, without breaking any major masala laws (except for having Rakhee play a dacoit in a film that stars Vinod Khanna!)? Here, let me convince you that my sanity is not really under threat!

Thakur Shakti Singh (Vinod Khanna) is peacefully riding his motorbike through the fields when he happens upon a police-dacoit confrontation. He jumps in, bike first, and helps the police nab dacoit Bhavani Singh (Pran). The police is appropriately grateful, but Bhavani vows to get even. Shakti, true to his name (shakti = strength), remains unfazed by Bhavani’s threat of vengeance. He goes on to argue with the Inspector General (Kamal Kapoor)’s daughter - Ambika (Parveen Babi) - that she must give up her prejudice against marrying police officers. Considering that Shakti himself is about to join the force, Ambika naturally puts aside her prejudices.

Back at home, his stepmom (Nadira) and her cohorts have an entirely different plans for him. She wants him to marry a girl who will bring them a lot of dowry, and then she hopes that Shakti will obligingly die, leaving her and her son all the dowry and all his vast wealth. But the best laid plans of mice and men have a way of going terribly astray - as they do now.

Before he joins the force, Shakti decides to go hunting one last time. On his way, he is attracted by the sound of a woman singing in the jungle, and follows the song. He discovers that the singer is a lovely young woman (Rakhee), and his fate is pretty much sealed! She discovers him listening to her impromptu concert and runs away in confusion. Naturally, they’re fated to meet again. That evening, at the guest house, Shakti discovers that she is Devi, the guest house watchman, Baba’s (Bharat Bhushan) adopted daughter. He is amused to overhear her pithy comments on Thakurs in general and hunting Thakurs in particular.

Devi is amazed to find out that this Thakur is a teetotaller and perfectly happy to eat vegetarian food, instead of the fried chicken she’s usually called upon to make. And once he promises to eschew hunting, her capitulation to his manly charms is complete. The two get married without much ado, and go home to Shakti’s family who are decidedly displeased by the news. Plus, poor Ambika is heartbroken. She does have my sympathies. Having talked her out of her prejudice against marrying a police-officer, the least Shakti could’ve done is to provide her with one!

Back to Shakti’s family. They make it clear that they’re not happy with his hasty marriage, but Shakti refuses to let them get away with it. Devi is his wife, he loves her, and they’d better accept it! They do accept it overtly, but make poor Devi’s life miserable behind his back. Shakti’s younger half-brother, Deepu, makes passes at her and she is too uncertain and ashamed to tell Shakti. Matters come to a head when Shakti has to leave for a few days on official business. She tries to tell him what has been going on, asking him not to leave. But he re-assures her that he will take care of it once he returns, and his family won’t harm her in the meantime. Hah! He has clearly not seen many films!!

The moment Shakti leaves, Deepu locks up his Mom in her room. Then he, his cousin and two friends get started on some serious sexual assault on poor Devi. Just as I was getting ready to use the fast forward button to avoid watching an 80s rape scene, I realised that things weren’t going that way. Devi spiritedly defends herself, managing to wound three of her attackers, and then escapes from the house. In the fight, a fire was started, and after Devi’s escape, the house burns down, killing Shakti’s stepmom and Devi’s wounded attackers. A traumatised Devi runs and runs till she can run no more. She finds herself in a Durga temple where she faints in the arms of a sympathetic man - Daaku Bhavani Singh!

Bhavani takes Devi to his daaku-hideout to recover. Once she regains consciousness, Devi tells the sympathetic dacoits about her traumatic experience, and then begs leave to return home. Bhavani’s lieutenant, Sher Singh (Bharat Kapoor), warns him that this is not a good idea. Not only is she likely to betray their hide-out to the police, she is actually married to Bhavani’s arch-enemy! But Bhavani has adopted Devi as his behen and fraternal ties are far above ties of blood-shed. So he un-vows his revenge and Devi is escorted back to Shakti.

This is where I get my second surprise. Shakti does not go all masala, talking about his duty or accusing her of killing his Maa. He is only upset that by not surrendering to the police immediately after the incident, she has weakened her chances of pleading self-defence! To keep the masala tradition alive, he does arrest her, but promises to help her defence. There are further surprises in store for me. The murder trial begins with the prosecution opening the case and presenting witnesses that the defence then duly cross-examines. I can hardly believe my eyes. An almost “real” criminal trial?! Clearly this movie will NOT get it’s masala license.

The prosecution brings on their two star witnesses - Shakti’s stepmom’s brother and his son Rejeshwar - both of whom claim to be eye-witnesses. Rajeshwar was actually one of her attackers, and Devi is not prepared for his testimony. He claims to be a long-time lover of hers, and goes on to say that in her insatiable appetite for men, she made passes at Deepu and his two friends. When they resisted, she murdered them! His father also corroborates his testimony. The defence attorney points out the absurdity of four healthy males unable to defend themselves against one knife-wielding female. But Devi is horrified at the turn the trial is taking, and convinced that she will be found guilty after all. And she isn’t the only one. Bhavani, attending the trial in disguise, thinks so too. He grabs her as she comes out of court at the end of the day, and using a bomb to create confusion, manages to spirit her away. This time, Devi is convinced that there is no going back to lawful life for her, ever. Shakti though, is still defending her actions to his fellow police-officers and hoping that justice will prevail.

In full dasyu-sundari (dacoit beauty - term used for female bandits) mode, Devi rides out to take revenge against her surviving attacker. After dishooming him and punching him with the butt of her gun, she shoots him dead. With that murder, Devi confirms her outlaw status and Shakti finally recognises that his wife is now lost to him forever - either to the dacoits or to jail. So he takes to drinking, and not all Ambika’s entreaties will get him away from the bottle.

And then something even more dramatic happens. Devi is pregnant! We only find out when she is about to give birth and Bhavani is frantically trying to get a mid-wife to her. When that is not possible, he carries her to a neighbouring village and bullies an old man into giving Devi shelter while he goes to fetch a midwife. The old man is none other than Devi’s Baba, her foster-father! Unfortunately, Baba does not see her face which is heavily veiled. He grabs the opportunity presented by Bhavani’s absence to call the police. By the time they arrive, Devi has delivered a baby boy and and the old man has realised that he’s summoned the police to capture his own Devi! Does he tell her that she’s smirched the family honour and that she is now dead to him? Amazingly enough, no! He is horrified that he may be handing Devi over to the police, and helps her and Bhavani escape by creating a diversion. In the process, he is shot and fatally wounded by a police bullet, but lives long enough to tell Shakti that he is now a proud Papa!

All this, and the movie is barely two thirds done. Which way will it go now? Will Rakhee get to do some more Bandit Queen stuff? What will happen to Shakti and Devi’s kid? Will we ever solve the mystery of Shakti’s resistance to ~~Parveen Babi~~ Ambika’s charms? Will Pran sing-n-dance? A big YES to the last!

Apart from the fact that I found myself unable to predict where this film was going (it breaks so many masala conventions that I am amazed it managed to get a Censor certificate at all!), I was also surprised at how quiet and understated all the dramatics were. The acting was mostly restrained and the dialogues actually sounded like words that you and I might say (yes, that’s what happens when Rajinder Singh Bedi does the writing!). The characters were mostly sensible - as sensible as normal humans usually are - and nobody seems to falsely doubt anybody else. Shakti never wavers in his love and trust for his wife, and the two seem to communicate way better than any filmi couple has any right to! Best of all, while the film is not exactly a feminist vehicle, the women do get to have a voice and do things, AND nobody talks about Devi’s izzat! The only time she brings up izzat - her husband’s - he tells her that it was not sensible of her to uphold his honour at the cost of her safety!

This film reminds me a bit of Bimal Roy’s masala films - absurd stories presented in a fashion that makes them seem quite plausible! I’m just surprised that such a film came out of the 80s decade. It may not perhaps appeal to all you masala connoisseurs since it lacks all the zaniness of an over-the-top masala vehicle, but you might want to watch it for all the beautiful people and the cute Vinod-Rakhee romance.

Sense and Sensuality: advice from THE Diva (part I)

2010-10-09T11:00:00.000-06:00

Readers we have such a treat for you during Rekhatober! The reclusive star has graciously agreed to do a question and answer column during this month-long blog-wide celebration of her awesomeness. You may not know, but Rekha-ji has been instrumental in guiding several of her younger colleagues and has often given great advice to her co-stars. Here are some examples (check out Beth Loves Bollywood for part II):

Aakchhoo Kumar: Rekha-ji, pairi pona (touching your feet). You know I have been Bollywood’s #1 Khiladi since the 90s, but in just 2 decades, my popularity is dying! What do I do to appeal to the younger generation?
Rekha: Get younger! Seriously Aakchhoo! Haven’t I told you this again and again? Jeez, you need to start romancing older women or working with Salmon. In fact, scratch the older woman, just work with Salmon. Nothing makes a man look younger and more handsome than if he is with Sallu bhai! Of course, if you want to go the “evergreen” way, just visit the Dev Anand Green Youth Foundation (not that I recommend it).

Rainy Muck-err-ji: Rekha-ji, pranaam. My career is stalled. My love-life is boring. What do I do?
Rekha: Remember what Gandhi-ji said? When in doubt, think of the weakest, poorest actress of your times. And ask yourself - what would Kajol have done.

Aimee-tab: Main aur meri tanhayi aksar yeh baatein karte hain “Me and my loneliness, we often talk of this.” (From Silsila)
Rekha: Oh so that’s why your phone is always so busy? If you would only hang-up sometime, I could talk to you, too!

Gabbar: Kitne aadmi the? (From Sholay - “How many men were there?”)
Rekha: My private life is my own affair!

*Answer my questions, please do…

Zoo-whine Khan: Rekha-ji, I have heard through reliable sources that I might be up for a Silver Lotus Award for my role in the epically epic Veer. How should I react to the news when I get my official notice?
Rekha: Winning a Silver Lotus was a glorious achievement in our times. It put one in the company of artists like Nargis, Shabana Azmi, and Smita Patil. But now, my dear, even Ms. Piggy Chops can get one <eyeroll>, so I would not be surprised if this gossip is correct. I recommend you at least look like you deserve the award and start shopping around for the perfect accessory (a well-dressed man).

Hrithik: Hi Rekha-ji. How do I get the critics to appreciate my acting skills?
Rekha: I suggest you follow Aamir’s hair-raising acting methods. He has pioneered the art of method-acting and shown that a man’s hair is the most important aspect of a Serious Actor’s repertoire. So go on, shave your glorious locks. Nothing says “serious” like a bald Greek god. You’ll knock the socks off the critics.

Care-eena: Rekha-ji, how do I handle having a famous boyfriend? He is as successful as I am!
Rekha: Keep going as you are! Getting him into that bandanna was a stroke of genius. Try to get him to grow out his hair again and return to his “anari” days. And remember, men need to be shown who’s the boss - so be firm and don’t let him wear too many well-tailored suits or get away with a good hair cut.

Vee-dee-aah Belan: Both of our names have appeared on “What is she WEARING?!?” lists over the years. How can I learn to hold my head high like you do?
Rekha: I suggest you practise walking on high heels with a heavy book balanced on your head. Your head wouldn’t dare to droop. In the meantime, I recommend a good perm and hair-updo - it can add inches to your head! Plus people will be too busy gawping at your unique hairstyle to worry about what your head (or the rest of you) is wearing.

Ash-weary-aah: Dearest auntie! Why do people keep harping on your Umrao Jaan when I did such a good job of being the sad courtesan? <giggle giggle>
Rekha: It’s because when I did the part, I was thinking about having to lust after Shekhar Suman! You can’t believe how well it brought out the sadness in my courtesan. You should’ve been thinking of your costumes in Endhiran (and having to make sexy faces at a 60-year-old uncle-bot) when you did UJ. The Silver Lotus would have beaten a path to your door.

And stars aren’t the only ones who can get advise from The Diva. She has agreed to answer the reader’s question through her columns here and at Beth Loves Bollywood. So if you have love troubles, fashion troubles, life troubles, or just want to ask her something, post your questions (advice only, please - this isn't an interview!) in the comments and Beth and I will be sure she receives them, and will share her answers.

Car-o-mania – my ten favorite filmi cars!

2010-09-28T15:29:00.002-06:00

Between my new job and my new obsession, life has had no room for films in the past few weeks. What can possibly be so interesting that I have abandoned films? One word – CARS! Had someone told me even a month ago that I’d soon be interested in cars, I’d have thought they were crazy. Me? Actually thinking of cars as something more than a means to go from point A to point B? Ridiculous! But there is no denying it. I have caught the disease. From being a person who could only recognise one car – The VW Beatle – I’ve graduated to being a person who can now identify most major car makes (and some models, too) at a glance!

It all began when I made the decision to do my bit toward global warming by burning my fair share of fossil fuel. Why should the rest of the world carry my burden? Ergo, I must buy a car. But which car? I couldn’t pick a Lexus or a Honda or a… in a car park full of two cars! So how on earth do I decide which one to buy? “One does one’s research”, a wise friend pointed out. Aah yes! That is one thing I do know how to do. So I set out to do my research. But nobody warned me that a very serious side-effect of research on all things automative is car-o-mania. I’ve begun to actively notice cars in car-parks, on the road, on the internet, and yes, even in films! I clearly need professional help. While I get it, here’s a list of ten filmi cars that I wouldn’t mind receiving as a gift (Santa, I hope this is enough advance notice for you to get it right, this Christmas):

1. Remington Steele’s 1936 White Auburn – Can anybody be unmoved by the sight of this car? If I had to choose between my beloved Mr. Steele (Pierce Brosnan) and this car, I do believe I might settle for the car! Sorry Mr. Steele, you are handsome, dashing, and so very crush-worthy, but right now, I can’t see beyond your beautiful set of wheels.

2. James Bond’s Aston Martin DB 5 from Goldfinger (1964): One might well wonder why Sean Connery needed a car with so much sex-appeal. Isn’t he appealing enough without it? Never mind... We will stick to discussing cars. They do tend to age much better than their Bonds. Just sneak a peek at this silver, sullen-faced beauty, and tell me that it won’t take your mind off 007. Hmm… I wonder… was the car there just to charm people who were immune to Mr. Bond’s legendary (and, in my opinion, largely imaginary) charm?

3. The Saint’s 1962 Volvo P1800: Simon Templar (Roger Moore) is one class Robin Hood act, and nowhere is it more evident than in his choice of wheels. His car is classy, it’s beautiful, and it looks like it can talk to the wind and leave it behind! Mr. Templar, will you please remember that you are a modern-day Robin Hood and I am a very poor scientist who desperately wants a car? I don’t mind settling for your well-used Volvo. I’ll give it a very good home, I promise…

4. The customised Paragon Panther from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968): I’ve not seen the film, so I have no idea what feats of magic this car is capable of, but one look at it’s goofy exterior is enough for me. I want to have at least one ride in it. Sigh! I know… 'tis not possible, but one can dream a dream, surely?

5: Robert Talbot’s 1960 Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud II from Come September (1961): Now your average woman would be more interested in the accessories (ladies, do observe the well-appointed Rock Hudson, placed just by the dashboard, for your viewing convenience), but I am made of sterner stuff. When it comes to resplendent Rolls-Royces, nothing, absolutely nothing, can distract my attention from this modern marvel of motor machinery.

While Hollywood (and their trans-Atlantic cousins) clearly take the lead in all things automotive, Bollywood does not lag behind. They do tend to favour convertibles over regular sedans and coupes, and white seems to be a very popular color, especially with the Kapoor drivers. Does that mean that there isn’t a lot of variety in drool-worthy wheels? A big NAHIIIN!

1. The 'Champion' from Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi (1958) – A vintage car even when this film was made, this 1920s Ford model A is worth every ounce of tender-loving-care that the Ganguly brothers (Ashok Kumar, Anoop Kumar and Kishore Kumar) lavish on it. It’s goofy, it’s cute, and look, it even does tricks!

2. The Porsche 911 Targa from Shaan (1980) – Vijay (Amitabh Bachchan) fell in lust for this car, and for once, he has my full sympathy! It is certainly one very lust-worthy car. Too bad he does not get to keep it for long, but the lucky man does get to take it for a spin.

3. The cars in Waqt (1965) – There is a virtual cavalcade of beautiful cars in this film. From the pretty convertibles that Ravi (Sunil Dutt) and Raja (Raj Kumar) race in, the cute open-topped Standard that Renu (Sharmila Tagore) drives to school, to this looong Buick (look – it’s accessorised with my favourite kind of chauffeur too!), they are all so very glamorous. Help! I feel a wave of pure covetousness coming on!!!

4. Shammi Kapoor’s white 1948 Studebaker Commander from Kashmi Ki Kali: The two younger Kapoor brothers have a tendency to show off their driving skills in white open-topped cars. While I will admit to a slight preference for the pretty picture his baby brother makes against a white convertible, there is no denying that Shammi bags the better car. Isn’t it absolutely gorgeous? And to think that I’ve watched this song dozens of times before – I’ve drooled over Rafi’s voice, OP Nayyar’s music, noticed Shammi’s antics, but NEVER paid the slightest attention the car! What was I thinking of?!

5. Vivek Oberoi’s VW Beatle in Gunji si hai saari fiza (Kyon Ho Gaya Na): The Volkswagen Beatle was my first car-love, for the very simple reason that it was the only car I could unerringly pick out in a crowd! Besides, it’s so cute in an ugly and utterly frivolous way, that it is well-nigh irresistible. And looks like Aishwarya cannot resist it’s pull, either. She is actually dreaming that she is in love, and that her boy friend owns this cute little number (umm… was that Vivek’s attraction, Aish?).

The internet tells me that I am neither the first nor the most car-obsessed of movie fans! Here are people who’re light years ahead of me:

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

2010-08-25T02:43:00.003-06:00

Who does not like Robin Hood? He’s the stuff of romance - he robs the rich to give to the poor, helps the needy, fights against oppression and is an all round good guy. Naturally, that isn’t what makes him so popular at the box office. His other good qualities are responsible for that - he is tall and handsome, shows off to good advantage in tights (how many men can do that?), can fight with any weapon (guns excluded), keeps cracking jokes while vigorously fencing with foes, and is extremely chivalrous. In short, filling Robin of Locksley’s shoes is no easy job, even though Errol Flynn makes it look like it is! Of course, you all know the story of Robin Hood, but I’ve just finished watching this beautifully restored film and need an excuse to post the screen caps. So I will tell you the story all over again, with LOTS of screencaps!

Once upon a time, in the reign of Richard the Lionheart , the Normans and the Saxons lived peacefully in England. But then, the King left for the Crusades (1191) and his evil brother, Prince John (Claude Rains), started making plans to usurp the throne. Richard played into John’s hands by getting captured and imprisoned in Vienna. So now, John’s way was clear. He seized the Regency and imposed new taxes, ostensibly to pay for Richard’s ransom, but really to pay the nobles for their help in capturing the throne. Having taxed the peasants out of home and hearth, he then proceeds to subject them to untold cruelties. Sir Robin of Locksley (Errol Flynn) – a Saxon nobleman - is an outspoken opponent of John’s reign of oppression.

While hunting in the forest, Guy of Gisborne (Basil Rathbone) catches a poacher (Herbert Mundin) and is on the verge of arresting him for unlawfully killing the King’s deer. But Robin saves the man by claiming to have killed the deer himself. He himself evades arrest by out-archer-ing Guy. That evening, Robin gate-crashes a banquet that Guy is hosting for Prince John. He walks in, bold as brass, and presents the disputed deer to the prince. Not only that, he manages to flirt with the King’s ward, Lady Marian (Olivia de Havilland), while poor Guy, who is besotted with her, looks on helplessly. John is amused by Robin’s effrontery and invites him to sit down at the banquet. While he lets Robin feast and voice his political views, Guy has him surrounded by his soldiers. But Robin isn’t that easy to capture. In a dashing fight sequence, he manages to evade a castle-full of soldiers and make his escape. But not before he’s proclaimed to John and his Norman nobles that he will raise a rebellion against them!

John’s reaction is swift – he declares Robin an outlaw, confiscates his estates and puts a price on his head. And that’s how Robin Hood is born. Robin takes to the forest with his squire Will Scarlett (Patric Knowles) and passes the word to other wronged Saxons to come join him. Sherwood Forest is soon full of his followers. He still needs good fighting men, and comes across them in the strangest of places! One evening, as he is crossing a river by way of a fallen tree-trunk, he finds that the other end of this make-shift "bridge" is blocked by a large stranger (Alan Hale). The man refuses to make way for anyone but his "better" and Robin and he fight it out to decide who is better. The man who defeated a castle-full of soldiers is speedily bested by this big man. But Robin is nothing if not enterprising. He turns his defeat to good account by recruiting his opponent - Little John - into his band of Merry Men.

Robin, it turns out, has a penchant for recruiting men in water! That’s how he recruits Friar Tuck (Eugene Pallette). After months in the forest (without any onset of winter!) he decides that his band needs a churchman to look after the souls of the men and their families. So, when he sees a fat friar sleeping under the tree, he decides that he’s found just the man. On sword-point, he gets the friar to carry him across the river. But midstream, Robin discovers that the man is more of a holy terror than a holy man! The two men fight it out in the water, and soon the Merry Men acquire a fighting friar.

The recruitment drive over, Robin turns his attentions to making England too hot for Prince John. A big part of John’s treasure – the "ransom" he collected for Richard - is being brought to Nottingham. The Sheriff of Nottingham, Lady Marian and Guy are part of the heavily guarded convoy carrying the treasure. Robin and his men ambush the convoy as it passes through Sherwood forest, and succeed in capturing the whole party. Robin is much taken with Lady Marian, but she makes it clear that he is no more than a lowly outlaw to her. The proud Robin is moved to defend himself. He shows her the plight of the people oppressed by John and his nobles, and finally manages to convince Marian that he is a patriot, fighting for justice and the true King (Richard)!

Having successfully captured his treasure, Robin lets everybody go. Prince John has been having a hard time combating the rebellion fostered by Robin, and this theft is just the last straw. Guy’s humiliating capture makes him more determined than ever to annihilate Robin, too. But it would take a huge army to comb Sherwood forest for the outlaws! The only way to capture Robin is to lure him away from his forest stronghold and capture him while he is alone. So John, Guy and the Sheriff devise a clever plan. They proclaim an archery competition, and announce that the winner’s prize will be a golden arrow, to be presented by Lady Marian. They know that Robin, an ace archer, will be unable to resist trying for the prize. Once he’s been lured into Nottingham Castle without his men, they can easily capture him. Marian does not suspect this plan until Robin is captured, after a stirring display of archery.

The conspirators are happy at having captured their chief opponent and plans are underway to hang him as soon as possible. Marian is distraught! She hates seeing the proud Robin in shackles, with his life about to be snuffed out. And so she springs into action. She makes contact with his men, and suggests a rescue plan to them. Do I need to tell you what happens next? To say that Robin will be rescued, that tyrants will be fought off, that everything will end happily-ever-after, is hardly a spoiler!

The best part of the film is not the story which is too well known for any surprises. It is the execution on-screen that makes it such a pleasure to watch - the beautifully composed frames with their jewel-like colors (it was filmed in "glorious technicolor"), the lavish and painstakingly detailed sets, the lovely costumes, and most of all, the sheer exuberance of Robin Hood and his Merry Men. Errol Flynn has never been my favourite swashbuckler. He always struck me as more comical than heroic, and I’ve always wondered at his popularity. So I was surprised at how much I did like him here. He plays Robin Hood with so much energy and dash, and slips into all the swashbuckling antics with such verve and grace that it is impossible to stay unmoved. It’s no wonder that this is his most celebrated role.

The rest of the cast was very good too, but that is not surprising considering who they were. Basil "Sherlock Holmes" Rathbone is great as Guy of Gisborne. He is wicked and snooty (and handsome!) and manages to keep Guy from turning into a cartoonish villain. It’s hard to recognise Claude Rains in the scheming and manipulative Prince John. Rains is one of those actors who disappears into his parts and is the character he is playing. He has the most ridiculously girlie red wig on, but "girlie" or "ridiculous" are the last words you’d apply to the evil Prince John! Olivia de Havilland is the only member of the cast that I did not warm up to. She’s always struck me as somewhat milque-toast-y, and lacking sparkle, and it's no different here. But then, Lady Marian isn’t really required to do more than smile, look disdainful, or cry – something that de Havilland does pretty well.

If you haven’t watched this already, delay no more! It’s such a happy and pretty movie that you are bound to feel good after you see it.

Sheesh Mahal (1950) - Modi-drama

2010-08-21T23:49:00.007-06:00

It’s always nice to see a 40s heroine who isn’t raring to martyr herself on the altar of duty, especially when the film co-stars my favourite - Sohrab Modi. I can see that you’re pointing an accusing finger at the film’s release date, which is, admittedly 1950. But I assure you, this film really does not feel like a 50s film. My womanly intuition tells me that this was shot in 1949. And no, I do not need anybody to ruin my beautiful theory with ugly facts.

Now that we’re all agreed that it’s a 40s film, let’s examine this unusual heroine. She has all the attributes of a "good" woman. Dutiful? Check. Conscious of her family’s izzat (honor)? Check. Always sticking to the straight and narrow and making sure that others do, too? Check. But unlike a lot of other Bhartiya naaris, she does not suffer in silence. She is also educated, independent, sassy and not entirely above modern ideas. Which does not mean that she is a feminist - she is Bolly-naari, after all. But she does her bit to restore my faith in 40s/50s Indian womanhood. The character is named Ranjana, and is played by Naseem Banu. Let’s see what she gets up to…

Thakur Jaspal Singh (Sohrab Modi) comes from a long and illustrious line of Thakurs. That means only one thing in Bolly-land – he is proud of his lineage and zealously devoted to keeping up the family’s izzat in the come-what-may style. That he is up to his ears in debt, and close to loosing his lovely mansion - the titular Sheesh Mahal - does nothing to cramp his style. He donates lavishly to charity, rudely refuses to contemplate a match between his daughter Ranjana (Naseem Banu) and his chief creditor’s son, plans to celebrate Diwali like a minor King, and shuts his ears to his children’s entreaties to live within his means. But that isn’t the sum of his follies. He believes in the Thakur honour to such an extent that he’s married off his elder daughter Nalini (Pushpa Hans) into an impoverished Thakur family and she’s been subject to untold suffering as a result.

A letter from the suffering Nalini moves Ranjana to tears, and her brother Balram (Amarnath?) to helpless anger. Balram never wanted Nalini to be married into a poor family, but Jaspal is firm in his belief that a proud lineage is more important than wealth. Now, he bids Balram to fetch Nalini and her family for Sheesh Mahal’s lavish Diwali celebrations. Balram is happy to fetch his sister, but tries to get his father to scale back on the festivities. Ranjana and he have heard that their father’s chief creditor has declared a foreclosure and will get Sheesh Mahal auctioned. But Jaspal is unmoved – he’s filed a case in court and everything will be fine! Ranjana and Balram shut up, and plunge into the festivities. Nalini joins in with her young son, and bemoans the poverty that has brought illness to her husband and starvation to her little one. Ranjana and Balram soon enlighten her about the true state-of-affairs at Sheesh Mahal.

Along come the troubles, thick and fast. First comes the news of Nalini’s husband’s death. Then, Sheesh Mahal is auctioned. They shift to a small house and try to make ends meet with Balram’s earnings as a factory worker. Ranjana’s fiancé Sundarmukh (Pran) breaks their engagement, because he has no interest in marrying a poor Thakur’s daughter, no matter how proud her lineage. Then Balram looses a leg in an accident and their only source of income is gone.

Through all this, Jaspal firmly refuses to let Ranjana get a job because the women in his family never work! If Balram cannot work, he will paint and sell his paintings. In the meantime they must all survive – on air, I assume! Needless to say, I was all ready to administer some much needed smacks to Mr. Thakur Jaspal Singh. But Ranjana took action herself. Instead of trying to batter some sense into her father’s head, she sought a teaching job. As luck would have it, she lands a better paying job as a companion to Rupa (Nigar Sultana), the spoilt daughter of the new owner of Sheesh Mahal - Durgaprasad (Mubarak). Ranjana then goes home and presents her family with fait accompli. The smart girl does not reveal the name of her employer, but does assure her father that she will keep her proud lineage a secret. Jaspal is not reconciled, but withdraws his opposition when Ranjana entreats him on behalf of Nalini’s half-starving child.

Ranjana starts her job in Sheesh Mahal, and makes an instant hit with Rupa and her Mom (a very young Leela Mishra). The son of the house - Vikram (Jawahar Kaul) – is much struck by her beauty, but when she tells him off for being rude to her, he isn’t quite so smitten anymore. His vague affront hardens into dislike when he discovers a letter calling her to an assignation later that night. He follows her to her assignation, and discovers his mistake. The letter was written to Rupa and Ranjana discovered it in the pocket of her dressing gown while ironing it. She then kept the tryst in Rupa's stead, by the simple expedient of locking the latter up in her bedroom!

At the tryst, Ranjana discovers that Rupa’s lover is her own ex-fiancé, Sundarmukh! She quickly veils herself and tells him that Rupa sent her to drive him away. And she does drive him away - with the help of their dog Bahadur. But Rupa is very much in love with Sundarmukh’s sundar mukh (pretty face), and unlikely to submit to her arranged-marriage groom. She rings up Sundarmukh and the two plan to elope. Sundarmukh thinks like the villain of a regency romance - her wealthy parents will have to accept the marriage once it’s been accomplished. The elopement is planned for the one night in the week when Ranjana is away, visiting her family. But luck is against the lovers. Her father’s distressing cough prompts Ranjana to come over to Sheesh Mahal to borrow some of Mrs. Durgaprasad’s cough medicine. And she is just in time to intercept Rupa and dissuade her from eloping.

Rupa submits to Ranjana’s arguments against an elopement, but fiercely resents being forced into a marriage with someone else. Will Ranjana be able to convince her that marriage with ~~Pran~~ Sundarmukh is a fate-worse-than-death? How will she evade her own troubles? After she frustrated Rupa’s elopement, the grateful Durgprasad sent her home in his limousine and Mrs. Durgaprasad lent her an expensive shawl to keep warm on the way. Jaspal sees both and immediately jumps to the conclusion that Ranjana has been performing dishonourable service for her employer! Will she be able to escape his Thakur-wrath? Will Vikram ever tell Ranjana about his growing feelings for her? Will the lovely Nalini stop singing sad songs? And most importantly, will somebody finally whack some sense into the annoying Thakur Jaspal Singh? All your questions will be answered - just visit Sheesh Mahal. :D

The performances are very stagey, in the way of pre-50s films. That, and the music, give it the distinct feel of a 40s film. For the rest, it’s a fairly progressive film. While Jaspal represents the worst of silly, retrogressive ideas, the rest of the characters stand up very articulately for sensible and modern ideas. Apart from being peopled with likeable characters, it's also a very fast-paced story with great dialogues, lavish sets, lots of beautiful people, and lovely songs. This being a Sohrab Modi film, there are lots of long speeches, usually delivered by him in his booming voice. He does spout the most annoying nonsense about honour and pride, but I must confess that I love the way he delivers his lines! Besides, since the film is staunchly against the views his character espouses, those speeches aren’t really all that annoying, after all.

And don’t forget to check out Pran in an unusual romantic duet...

Bandhe Haath (1973)

2010-08-17T00:54:00.004-06:00

I’ve wanted to watch Mujrim, ever since I read the review over at Dustedoff’s. Since I’m trying to keep to my resolution of curbing my DVD-buying sprees, I decided to settle for it’s remake that I already own – this film! From the synopsis, this appears to be a very faithful copy, and left me just as dissatisfied as the original seems to have left it’s viewers! Why is it that some movies do not quite live up to the promise of their plots? It’s one of the great unsolved mysteries of our times. Sadly, while this film belongs to this mysterious category, it does nothing to help solve the mystery! It begins well enough, the story warms up pretty nicely and even gets along at a good pace – yet it all dissolves into some silly plot-twists and unnecessary melodrama at the end.

We join Shyamu (Amitabh Bachchan) just as his attempt to burgle a safe is frustrated by an inconvenient alarm. He manages to get away with his accomplice (Madan Puri), but in the flight, Madan injures himself. When Shyamu expresses disgust for this hide-n-seek lifestyle of theirs, Madan testily points out that he brought up the orphaned Shyamu as his own child, so is it too much to expect filial devotion from him? Shyamu tightens his lips and says nothing.

Madan’s injury lands him in hospital, so Shyamu goes alone on his next assignment. He accomplishes the burglary successfully, but the alarm is given before he can make a clean get-away. He makes a run for it, with Inspector Kumar (Ajit) hot on his trail. Kumar manages to catch up with Shyamu and take a brief look at his face. But in a last burst of energy, Shyamu makes his escape. He enters the first door ahead of him and finds himself inside a theatre. He hides in a make-up room, while a performance takes place on-stage.

From his hiding place, Shyamu overhears a conversation. The theatre owner (Asit Sen) is telling the theatre’s leading lady, Mala (Mumtaz), and the manager, Pritam (O. P. Ralhan), that he is expecting the arrival of writer Deepak from Pune. A bit later, Mala catches Shyamu sneaking out of her make-up room. When she demands an explanation of his presence, he blurts out that he is writer Deepak! Mala is immediately friendly and helpful. She asks him what he’s written for their theatre and when he randomly comes up with Chand Aur Chor (moon and thief), wonders why writers are more interested in thieves than in good men! When Shyamu makes a half-hearted attempt to defend thieves, citing difficult circumstances driving some to dishonesty, she tells him flat out that a good person is one who remains good even in difficult circumstances. This makes a big impression on Shyamu, and he decides to turn over a new leaf.

But before he turns over a new leaf, Shyamu needs to get rid of Kumar who is still on his trail! Mala solves that problem by inviting him to use the theatre’s guest room for the night. The next day, Shyamu’s imposture is nearly exposed by a letter from the real Deepak, explaining that illness prevents him from coming to Bombay. Shyamu promptly pockets the letter, explaining that he decided to come in spite of his illness, because he thought that work was more important.

Shyamu leaves the theatre with the firm idea of turning to an honest life. But when Madan hears this, he laughs it off, claiming that "honest" people are more crooked than common criminals like them! He then urges Shyamu to help burgle a safe in a room next door. When Shyamu refuses, Madan decides to commit the burglary himself and dies in the attempt. Shyamu gets to the hospital in time to see Madan’s dead body being carried away, and decides that the last of his ties with the criminal Shyamu are over. Little does he know that he’s left a tiny but significant part of his loot behind in Mala’s make-up room – a distinctive ring that Mala has carefully put away to return to him.

Now that he is safe from his criminal past, he wants to go see Mala again (it’s her honesty and principles that attract him, no doubt!). But what if the real Deepak has turned up by now? He has Deepak’s address, so he decides to check up on him before he renews his acquaintance with Mala. Shyamu finds that Deepak is a very ill man, in sore need of tender-loving-care. While he is providing some of that, a flash of lightening shows him Deepak’s face and he discovers that Deepak is his look-alike! Shyamu isn’t slow to take advantage of this situation. He’s soon changed clothes (and stolen jewels) with the unconscious Deepak, and is all ready to strangle him, when his conscience stops him. After some argument between his better and worse selves, Shyamu decides to be the Good Samaritan, and fetches a doctor. His good deed is instantly rewarded, because Deepak breathes his last in the presence of the doctor. Thereafter, it’s just a matter of telling the doctor a cock-and-bull story about the dead man being Shyamu, complete with stolen jewels, and Shyamu is now writer Deepak!

Shyamu’s first act as "Deepak" is to pack bags and move to Bombay and the theatre where Mala works. He even takes the precaution of burning all specimens of Deepak’s hand-writing, replacing all manuscripts with his own hand-written copies. So now Shyamu is all set to take the world (and Mala) by storm. To his great good fortune, he runs into Mala the moment he steps out of the train. She’s come to receive her cousin Kavita (Tun Tun) with her Mom, and invites Shyamu to stay the night at their house. Shyamu happily agrees, and quickly declares his love to Mala’s portrait that helpfully adorns the walls of the guest bedroom (for the convenience of all love-sick guests?). Mala hears his declaration and makes it clear that she thoroughly approves of his sentiments.

So now Shyamu has a place in honest society and the love of a good woman. You’d think that he’s all set for a good life. You’d be wrong! Inspector Kumar sees him on a visit to the theatre, and is instantly suspicious. But the worse is yet to come! One of Deepak’s fans - Rajni (Kumud Chugani), turns up, out of the blue. She had never met Deepak, but the two had carried out a romantic correspondence and she has every expectation of claiming Deepak’s romantic attentions. She is furious to see "Deepak" getting up-close and personal with Mala, and throws a scene. Once she mentions Deepak’s letters, Shyamu immediately hurries out with her, leaving Mala convinced that she is being taken for a ride by a womaniser!

Shyamu spends some time with Rajni, trying to find out how much of a threat she poses to his new-found identity. Once he realises that she has letters written to her by the real Deepak, he knows he must get to them before they can reveal his imposture. So he plays along with Rajni’s romantic wishes, trying to keep Mala’s suspicions at bay and staying one step ahead of Inspector Kumar’s investigations. But that isn’t the sum of his troubles. Rajni was betrothed to her father’s friend’s son Ranjeet (Ranjeet) who swears that he will fix this or any Deepak who comes between him and Rajni’s wealth. Shyamu does seem to have more than his fair share of perils. Here’s wishing him success, and confusion to his enemies!

The film has the potential to be a good thriller but it squanders it in favour of giving us a morality lesson about good vs bad! But that isn’t it’s worst crime. It sets up Shyamu’s perils very nicely, showing him getting deeper and deeper into a quagmire of deception. But then, instead of using some intelligent plot-twists to get him out of it, the film then goes overboard with silly capers and emotional attyachar! The result is a film that starts out as a fast-paced thriller but lands up being nothing much at all. Such a waste of a good plot and a great cast (no OP Ralhan, that does NOT refer to you!).

Of course, with so much wrong in it, talking about the plot-holes is quite superfluous. But there was one plot-hole that was so big and so annoying that I just have to mention it. Is handwriting the only way to confirm an identity? This was the 1970s, not the 1870s! Didn’t O P Ralhan (he wrote and produced the film) ever hear of fingerprints? Considering how Shyamu went around burgling safes without gloves, wouldn't it have been easier to just check fingerprints? To end on a more positive note, I must admit that I was surprised to find a police-officer who can penetrate masala disguises as well as you and I can. Such touches of reality are so rare in Bollywood that the film-makers ought to get a medal for it!

Kabli Khan (1963) – swashbuckling patriotism!

2010-08-08T12:36:00.007-06:00

Masala patriotism is not my favourite genre, but where there are rules, there are exceptions to rules. And this film is firmly in the exception-to-rules category as far as my no-unsubtle-patriotic-films rule goes. I picked this up because it stars Ajit and Helen, and have no reason to regret my choice.

Emperor Shahbaz (Samson?) has been conquering new territories right left and centre, leaving death and destruction in his wake. His latest conquest is Yakistan, whose king has surrendered, but a loyal patriot – Kabli Khan (Ajit) – refuses to admit defeat. Kabli Khan is held prisoner by Shahbaz’s army, but manages to escape with like-minded prisoners and stolen arms. He gets home to his village, just in time to save the village from being looted by Shahbaz’s soldiers. A further batch of the conquering soldiers are driven out, soon after. They return to Shahbaaz, to get the dressing down of their lives. (If only Sholay were out - Shahbaaz would’ve known how to treat his defeated soldiers!)

While Shahbaaz is wondering what to do about Kabli Khan and his own hapless soldiers, his son Halaaku (Salim) arrives, in a pink tunic (he doesn’t get another costume until the last scene!). Halaaku promises to capture Kabli alive-or-dead. So off they go to Kabli’s rural hang-out, with a whole army in tow. Kabli has no trouble in evading the Pink Prince and his entourage. On the principle that it is better to “live to fight another day”, Kabli leaves his comrades and makes his way to the neighbouring kingdom of Kohistan. He petitions the Sardar of Kohistan to help fight Shahbaaz since the latter’s growing power is a danger for Kohistan, too. The Sardar suggests that it would be best for the Yakistani patriots to join his army. Kabli thinks it’s a good idea, but his fellow patriots refuse to even consider working for a Sardar of Kohistan.

So Kabli joins the Kohistan army on his ownsome. He makes his way to Yaarganj, a cantonment on Kohistan’s vulnerable border. There he is shocked to find the place in complete disarray. In the middle of the day, the soldiers are busy pleasure-seeking and the commander of the town’s garrison – Jabar Khan (Jayant) - is busy drinking in a tea-shop. Then he finds that “tea-shop” is a euphemism since tea is the last thing served there! In the tea-shop Kabli almost blunders into a secret meeting between Jabar and Shahbaaz’s emissary Rakib Khan (Ulhas). Only the tea-shop owner Mirza Ershaad (Mukri) has secretly witnessed the meeting and realised that Jabar is accepting a huge sum to betray Kohistan.

Unaware of the betrayal in the offing, Kabli is only worried about strengthening Yaarganj against a potential attack by Shahbaaz. He suggests that the army chief, Jung Bahadur, tour the border areas with a view to tightening security. On one of their tours, Jung Bahadur is kidnapped by Halaaku. Shahbaaz barely has time to rejoice in his son’s enterprise when Kabli engineers Jung Bahadur’s escape. He then has the effrontery to carry away Halaaku - right in front of his doting father! Shahbaaz is like a wounded tiger trying to find a way to get his cub back. Rakib assures him that he will “fix” Kabli Khan to everybody’s satisfaction.

Then follows my favourite part of the film. Kabli returns to Yaarganj with his royal prisoner, and proceeds to whip the soldiery of Yaarganj back in shape. But in this, he runs into a road-block - the aptly named Haseena (Helen!). (haseena = a beauty) She’s come to Yaarganj with two men, one of whom is Rakib. Her avowed intention is to entertain the troops with her dances, but she displays undue interest in Kabli! She woos him in the true Bolly-hero tradition – she declares her love for him, often makes him look foolish, rouses his anger and then tells him that his anger only increases her love! Kabli dislikes her intensely, tells her off for being a lowly dancing girl, but ultimately cannot resist her charms. (Well… a Helen-ly onslaught is very hard to resist!)

Moved by his intense passion for Haseena, Kabli decides that only marriage will do. But the path of true love never does run smoothly... Kabli discovers that Haseena is a spy for Shahbaaz and her job was to entrap him – which she’s done very efficiently. A furious Kabli then boldly does what no other Bolly-hero has done before – he confronts Haseena and demands an explanation!!! That certainly made me sit up and take notice. Isn’t that illegal? Shouldn’t he be taking the passive-aggressive route, singing reproachful poetry at her, while she wonders if his ulcers are acting-up again? Well… explanations are demanded and, hold your breath, given! No, I won’t say what explanation Haseena offers. That would be telling! Suffice it to say that the drama does not end there. There is still a tyrant to be defeated, an enslaved nation to be freed, several sword-fights to be fought, and one Pink Prince to be accounted for.

Shahbaaz and his tyrannies are clearly proxies for the British rule in India and Kabli Khan is the quintessential freedom fighter who overthrew the Raj. The patriotism is of the usual Bollywood masala variety, i.e., subtlety is conspicuous by it's absence. Plus, the acting leaves a lot to be desired. To say that almost everybody (except Helen) chews up the scenery is a gross understatement! The film is set in the confused-costume period so beloved of vintage Bollywood. Naturally, no historical context is given or sought. So why did I find it such a pleasant watch?

Reason #1: HELEN! It’s so nice to see her get a decent part and lots of screen-time. She is gorgeous as usual and so good as she dances, flirts and brings on the emotional attyachar. I wish she’d done lead roles more often.

Reason #2: AJIT! Yes, he is old and over-made-up here, he chews the scenery something terrible, but I still have a fondness for him. He umm… scenery chews so… well!

Reason #3: The songs! They are lovely. My favourite was the foot-tapping patriotic number Chalo jhoomte sar se baandhe kafan, but the others were great too – particularly the Rafi-Lata duet Yah-allah ya-habibi mere dil ke kareebi. It’s definitely one of music director Chitragupta’s and lyricist Majrooh Sultanpuri’s underrated tracks.

Reason #4: The movie is pretty fast-paced with lots of action and twists-n-turns. An imdb commenter dubs it a “Hindi action operetta” which describes it perfectly!

It’s only when I began writing this review that it struck me that Halaku aka The Pink Prince looked like Salim Khan of Salim-Javed fame. If this really is Salim Khan, I can see where Salman Khan gets his "acting" genes from!

Crimes against gender: confessions of a Bhartiya Naari

2010-07-30T01:03:00.009-06:00

In a perfect world, everybody would realise that a woman is "feminine" no matter what she does, simply because she is female. Since it’s not a perfect world, only a select few (like yours truly and other such intelligent women) recognise the fact. But the lovely Banno has challenged me to confess my crimes against my gender, so I must show some! How do I find out what constitutes a crime against my gender? I must admit that my only yardstick for this comes from old Bollywood films. So let’s see what they say a woman should be like, and what crimes I’ve committed against Bhartiya naari-hood.

Be ever loving : Of course, being loving and affectionate comes naturally to me. It would never occur to me to indulge in umm... physical combat, not when I can spread love and sweetness around me! And here is Nutan (in a clip from film Seema), exhibiting these very admirable traits - a womanly ability to love spontaneously and selflessly. (Please pay close attention around 1:12 min.)
Be ever sacrificing : I am the soul of self-sacrifice and would happily give my last penny to a friend in need. Isn’t it fortunate that sacrifice does not require me to spend my first, second, third and so on... pennies? That is the only thing that stands between me and international-fakir-dom.
Always uphold tradition : It would never occur to me to break with tradition. It’s terrible how youngsters in today’s world have no feeling for tradition. My family has a long tradition of breaking with tradition, and it would NEVER occur to me go against my family traditions! I strongly disapprove of youngsters like these who are inciting everybody to “forget everything about yesterday” and write a “new story in the new age”. The very idea!
Never stint on the pooja : I’ve always believed that one must start the day with a good bhajan. So I wake up early every morning (if you think 9:00am is late, you are not an aadarsh bhartiya naari) and devote the first hour of the day to some great bhajans. Here are some of my favourite ones:
Always wear Indian clothes : Interesting dresses are for misguided Western women who will be reformed by Mr. Bharat. (Note to those heathen who do not wish to be converted: A salwar-kameez/saree a day keeps Mr. Bharat away!) Like Neetu Singh here, I prefer to don my favourite Indian garb, all the time. What?! You don’t think that’s an Indian dress? Look closely. The pant? It’s a tight salwar. The top? It’s a shortened kameez!
Be devoted to your menfolk : I believe in unconditional devotion to my menfolk. One’s men must always be obeyed, idolised and above all, ministered to, humbly and devotedly. Only these women in Chak De! India come anywhere close to matching my slavish devotion to mankind.
Do not touch intoxicating substances : Only men (and loose women) touch intoxicating substances. I would die rather than let a drop of alcohol contaminate my wine. This would never be me, never in a thousand years! I’m very careful with my Gin-n-tonic – not even the cleverest villain can spike it. I swear!
Cultivate long flowing tresses to enhance your beauty : I’ve spent years growing and nurturing my nagin jaisi zulfen (snake-like tresses) and it would never occur to me to chop a single lock of my hair. Only Tabu’s hair in the following song come close to approximating my lovely long hair.
Bring other women to the path of ideal naari-hood : Meena Kumari has always been my role-model in this endeavour. Just see how well she instructs the sisterhood. Can you find a better guide to womanly behaviour than Yeh mard bade dil-dard bade bedard na dhokha khaana, meethi meethi batiyon mein bhool ke na aana (men are heartless and uncaring, never fall for their sweet talk)?
Be faithful to your man, even if he's dead : I truly believe that there is only one man for each woman, and she must always be faithful to him, no matter what - just like Rekha here. There was only one man for her (Vinod Mehra) till she met Rajendra Kumar, and now he is the only man for her. Such constancy is rare in modern times, but I am the old-fashioned type. Nothing will shake my belief in complete and utter faithfulness.

So you see, I am the stuff of ideal Bhartiya naari-hood, and am ripe for canonisation as a saint of the order of Indian femininity. Sorry Banno, I tried… but you can see that I am an ideal woman and really have no crimes-against-gender to confess to.

Mere Humsafar (1970)- four rapes and a romance!

2010-07-28T02:05:00.005-06:00

Well, "four rapes" is an exaggeration. There is only one rape. The other three are attempts by essentially "good" men who, once their attempted rapes are foiled, turn into their would-be rape-victim’s best friends and protectors!! Why did I persist in watching such a bizarre film? Well, partly because the story was engaging to begin with, partly because I love Sharmila Tagore and was intrigued to see her almost-pairing with Balraj Sahni, and partly because, having started, I wanted to see where it was going! The film is the strangest mix of awful and engaging, with the awful far outweighing the engaging.

Raju (Jeetendra) is the good-for-nothing son of a poor farmer. He spends his days learning the secrets of knife-wielding from the village outcast, Ustad Anwar (Tiwari). Raju’s father shoulders the entire burden of managing their small farm, and is often ticked off by his fellow villagers for letting his son loaf about. Though clearly old and tired, he refuses to rein in his son, and the inevitable happens. He drops dead one day, and Raju is left with one very debt-ridden farm. Finally roused to his responsibilities, Raju decides to work his farm. But he needs oxen to till the farm and his father had sold theirs’ to raise money. Racking his brains to come up with a way to earn the ox-price, Raju hits upon the idea of going to Bombay. A passing trucker had talked about how money flew around in Bombay, and Raju is convinced that once there, he’ll quickly earn enough for a pair of oxen.

Since he can’t afford a train ticket, Raju decides to stow-away on a truck. He climbs into the back of the first truck he sees, and finds it already occupied by one other stowaway. His fellow stowaway is an engaging young woman who introduces herself as Tarna (Sharmila Tagore) and proceeds to demand his blanket to cover up her torn clothes. She ascertains his antecedents first, and then tells him her story. She is an orphaned gypsy girl, running away from the man who "bought" her from her adoptive parents. Raju is moved by her plight and spends his small store of money to buy her a salwar-suit at the truck’s next stop. Tarna is touched by his kindness and his selflessness in spending his last penny on her. And so, as the truck winds its way onward, a romance begins to brew under the tarpaulin in the back!

With romance in the wind, trouble can’t be far behind. Sure enough, it soon finds them. The truck breaks down near a waterfall and Tarna decides to bathe while the truck driver, Joginder (Prakash Thapa?), waits for his assistant, Lalloo (Jagdeep) to bring help. When the truck gets repaired sooner than expected, Raju is able to get back on the truck undetected, but Tarna is seen in the rear-view mirror. The truck is stopped and the stowaways are discovered. Raju is shooed away, but Tarna is expected to "pay" her fare! Raju’s knife flashes out, and he soon has Joginder at his mercy. The latter is impressed by Raju’s amazing knife-y skills and immediately decides that Tarna is now his 'sister'. Lalloo is just as amazed as I am at this sudden twist in the tale. Are we both too slow to recognise the fraternising influence of the knife?!

Joginder is soon able to convince Lalloo that Tarna is his sister, too. Tarna’s two 'brothers' then bid her a tearful goodbye at the truck’s final destination. They help the lovers stowaway on a goods train bound for Bombay with a load of cattle. Having learnt nothing from their earlier mishap, Raju gets off the train when it stops in the fields, and is unable to get back on. Poor Tarna is left alone with the cows! At the next station, she is discovered by the cowherd (cowman?) when he comes to inspect his cattle. Naturally, like all men, he wishes to err… get cosy with Tarna. She runs from him and seeks shelter in a house by the station. The man of the house saves her from her pursuer and promises to help her find Raju. He take her to the "police chief of the area" aka the town lecher - Mittal (Jeevan). Mittal promises to start the police search for Raju and then quickly negotiates her price with her rescuer. He then manages to trap her in his bedroom and get started on some serious sexual assault. (This is attempted-rape #3, in case you’re keeping count.)

Just as I was about to give up in disgust, in comes Tarna’s knight on a muddy charger – film director Ashok (Balraj Sahni). Turns out that Mittal is a film producer/financier and Ashok is so important to him that he will willingly postpone a rape or two for the director’s visit! While Mittal and Ashok are discussing matters filmi, Tarna manages to escape from the bedroom and wind herself around Ashok. He isn’t quite the white knight she hopes for, though. He has no desire to intervene in his producer’s bedroom peccadilloes. But then he sees something in her eyes and decides that she is 'star material'. Once he conveys this to Mittal, the latter is quite willing to let Tarna off the hook!

Tarna isn’t willing to embrace a career in films and is only convinced when Ashok tells her that if she became a famous star, Raju will come and find her. Thus begins Tarna’s journey to stardom. We don’t see Ashok do his Prof. Higgins act, but the results are equally startling. The rough Tarna is soon transformed into the sophisticated and successful film-star Meenaxi. On the inside though, she remains Tarna and even after a few years in the lap of luxury, still yearns for Raju.

Lets see what happens to Raju after he misplaces Tarna. He makes his way to Bombay and finds that the city is neither friendly nor easy to earn money in. Tired after a day of unsuccessful job-hunting, he repairs to the pavement for some sleep. But in Bombay, even pavement accommodation isn’t free! He is soon being accosted by Ragiya Dada (Suresh?) and asked to cough up the "rent" for his "spot". Out comes Raju’s knife, and it has the same effect as before – Ragiya is enslaved by Raju’s knife-wielding skills. He promises to find employment for Raju, and takes him home to his intimidating sister Kusum (Lakshmi Chhaya). Kusum’s rough exterior, however, hides a marshmallow heart. She takes to Raju like a crocodile to water, and is soon urging her brother not to force Raju into any of his nefarious activities. So, while Raju tries his hand at earning the price of two oxen, Kusum falls for him, and she and her brother both plan for her wedding to him!

Raju is nothing if not tenacious about his Tarna – not all Kusum’s care and her great dancing makes him forget. His tenacity is rewarded when he recognises her in the pictures of film-star Meenaxi. Off he goes to her bungalow, to claim his Tarna, but Ashok won’t have it. He hasn’t worked hard to create Meenaxi, only to hand her over to Raju! He tells Raju that Tarna is now his wife. A heartbroken Raju goes off to get drunk and stagger home to Kusum. Tarna finds out about Raju’s visit and upbraids Ashok for reneging on his promise. Ashok tries explaining to her that she is now a big star, and has a duty towards her work and towards him – to no avail! Another near-miss later, Tarna manages to find her way to Raju’s home. She gets there just in time to see him embracing Kusum. It’s now her turn to return home, heartbroken.

Will Tarna-Raju ever get together? Will any woman in the film escape sexual assault? Will Tarna ever wake up to the fact that, old or no, Ashok is a whole lot more attractive than her bovine Raju? Do you even care?

I do not expect a lot by way of gender-equality in vintage films, but this film’s casual approach to sexual assault left me stunned (and it’s not even an 80s film)! I’ve often bemoaned the lack of grey characters in mainstream films, but in this, I’d have happily settled for the usual black-hearted villains. This film gives a whole new meaning to the co-existence of "good" and "evil" in one person!!! The only good thing about the film is Balraj Sahni in an unusually (slightly) evil role. It’s so nice to see him play a character that is not earnest and is often flippant and selfish. Plus, he is so darned charismatic that I was quite annoyed with Tarna for not recognising his attractions! For the rest, the film should come with an "avoid yaar" rating.

The Glass Bottom Boat (1966) – fun unlimited!

2010-07-13T23:47:00.006-06:00

The 60s is not my favorite decade for Hollywood comedies - the screwball comedy was largely defunct and the romantic-comedies were usually too sexist for my taste. In spite of that, I can be occasionally induced to watch 60s rom-coms for my favorite actors, and Doris Day is definitely one of them (Rock Hudson is another, but that’s a post for another day!). So it’s a good thing that I did follow Ms. Day into this film, because it is hilarious.

When the debonair scientist Bruce Templeton (Rod Taylor) goes fishing in the Catalina island, the last thing he expects to catch is a real-life mermaid! But that is exactly what he does land up reeling in - a mermaid tail! It’s actually the tail end of a mermaid-suit, with a very angry de-tailed mermaid (Doris Day) close behind. Jenny was doing a mermaid act as a stunt for her father’s glass bottom boat business, in waters that Templeton had no business fishing in.

Back at home, Templeton turns out to be a hot-shot space inventor! He’s invented the GISMO - Gravity Inertial Stabilised Manned Observatory. It is an instrument that simulates gravity electronically so that astronauts in space will never have to suffer weightlessness. He heads a research and manufacturing facility, about to win a contract for 75 million dollars!

Jenny turns out to be Jennifer Nelson, the “campus widow” and the newest recruit on Templeton’s staff! Dispel the thought that's crossed your mind. Jenny is NOT a scientist. What an absurd idea! It’s the 60s for goodness sake!! Women couldn’t add two and two to come up with four, in the good old days. Jenny is a tour guide who gives conducted tours of the research facilities that Templeton heads.

On one of her tours, Jenny gets her high-heel stuck in a metal grating. And then, to her horror, she encounters Templeton, aka The Tail-Thief! Unwilling to prolong her contact with this madman, she turns tail and runs, leaving behind her ~~glass slipper~~ shoe for Templeton to extract from the grating. When he runs after her to restore her to a shoe-full state, she seeks refuge in a friend’s office and hides under a desk (where else would a dumb blonde hide?). So Bruce Templeton and Jennifer Nelson are finally, formally introduced to each other, at desk-side, so to say.

Jenny is properly abashed to find that her maniacal shoe-snatcher and tail-thief is a responsible scientist and her boss to boot. (I am amazed that he is neither absent-minded nor works in a lab with coloured test-tubes!) He, on the other hand, is instantly smitten with her, in spite of her kookiness. (Of course intelligent scientists prefer dumb blondes - especially if they are Doris Day!)

Templeton may find Jenny kooky, but he does not know the half of it! Jenny, it turns out, has a dog called Vladimir, whom she likes to call up on the phone, several times a day! OK, this isn’t quite as kooky as it sounds at first, but it will get her into a lot of trouble. Vladimir tends to run around the house, barking madly, when the phone rings. So she calls him to give him some much needed exercise while she is at work. Her usual modus operandi for these calls is to ring her home phone, say hi to Vladimir, count to 5 or 10, and hang up. Unfortunately for her, the lab’s security chief - Homer Cripps (Paul Lynde) - hears her talking to “Vladimir” in “code”. His suspicions are roused. Is she in league with Russian spies to steal GISMO? He mounts a watch on her, and finds that she has these “coded” conversations 3-4 times a day!

Unaware of her potential links with a Russian spy-ring, Templeton makes plans to get closer to Jenny. He would like to take her off to a desert island for a long time, but work beckons. He must have his GISMO ready to be put into orbit soon, and can’t afford time off for a romantic getaway. So, he decides that she will be his biographer. She will shadow him all day and record all his reminiscences as he goes about his work! He also takes the precaution of checking out her personal dossier to find out everything about her. He discovers her likes and dislikes, and claims to share them! (Whoever thought an astrophysicist could be so sneaky!) What is even worse, he commits his wooing strategy to a scientific formula meant to bring Mars and Venus in the same orbit - a formula that later creates more trouble.

The biography serves it’s purpose. Jenny and Templeton spend their days in each other’s pockets. He rescues her from the pitfalls of navigating an advanced astrophysics facility, while she is impressed by his intellect and overwhelmed by his attentions. As their romance grows and blossoms, so do Cripp’s suspicions about Jenny's possible spy links. She sees a poster exhorting lab-staff to burn any documents that may fall into the wrong hands, and foolishly burns some worthless documents in her office. Cripps spies her paper-burning, and coming as it does, on top of her “coded” conversations with “Vladimir”, his suspicions take firmer root. He finds further fodder for his suspicions at her home. She has a radio transmitter in her house, with a twenty foot antenna on the roof! AND the CIA has picked up a radio transmission of Templeton’s romantic formula of bringing Mars and Venus closer together! Put together, the evidence is damning. But Templeton is unconvinced that his personal Venus is a spy.

On the other side of the fence, the local Russian spy network hears of her spying activities, and her mysterious “Vladimir”, with suspicions of their own. Who is is this “new” unknown spy? How come she is muscling in on their spying territory?! Then they find that the “formula” they transmitted was bogus.That puts the cat among the pigeons, well and good! They send out their man to investigate poor Jenny. The CIA and the lab security also have her under surveillance. And Templeton keeps a close watch on her for a different set of reasons altogether. So one way or the other, Jenny is attracting a great deal of attention!

Blissfully unaware of her growing fame in espionage circles, Jenny is happily basking in Templeton’s attention. And then, one unfortunate phone call blows everything wide-open. Jenny finds out that not only is she suspected of being a spy by her own people, Templeton refuses to believe them because he does not think she has the brains for it! What can she do but set out to prove him, and everybody else, wrong? As if matters weren’t already tangled enough! What with spies, suspected spies, pretend-spies, nationally important formulae, and “Vladimir” at large, it’s no wonder that things are soon out of control. All this confusion can lead to only one thing - lots of fun-n-games. And believe you me, the movie does not stint on them. It’s a roller-coaster of fun all the way through! (If you want spoilers, check out the review on The Films of Doris Day.)

Doris Day looks a bit too old to be playing the ditzy blonde, but she is as charming as ever. So it does not exercise my suspension of disbelief too much to see her do the clumsy blonde act, or do a complete about turn, later, and surprise everybody around her. She sings only two songs in the film, one of which (The glass bottom boat) is now officially on my favourite Doris Day songs list.

I saw this film mainly for Ms. Day, but was surprised at how much I liked Rod Taylor. He gets to play the only normal character in a film that goes over-the-top with it’s lunacy, so naturally one is inclined to sit up and take notice. But the way he plays his part - taking all the comedy in his stride with patient good humour, and without ever indulging in slapstick himself - I couldn’t help but like him enormously. Which is not to say that I did not hugely enjoy everybody else’s comical antics - I did, but Rod Taylor’s twinkling eyes and patent good humour went a long way towards making this film a whole lot more memorable! Did I mention his Bruce Templeton’s other attractions? He has this fully automated kitchen that I am dying to lay my hands on. No washing, no cleaning, and food ready in a few minutes instead of hours? Yes, please!

The only thing that I think the film could have done without is Doris Day’s strange bob. The hair over her cheek were clearly making her as uncomfortable as I would feel with a similar hairstyle! For the rest, its a great watch and guaranteed to perk you up for hours.

Mellifluous melodies: my favorite Shamshad Begum songs

2010-07-06T19:23:00.002-06:00

Shamshad Begum The name conjures up images of golden classics, old-fashioned fun songs, and a nasal voice that may be out of fashion now, but never seems dated. She started her career singing for radio Lahore in 1937. From there to singing for movies was but a short step. She recorded her first film-song for music director Ghulam Haider in the Punjabi film Yamla Jatt (1940), and her career as a popular playback singer was launched! She went on to give us hundreds of popular songs in her lovely earthy voice with its distinctive nasal twang. And she is perhaps the only female singers to have provided playback for leading men – she sang for Shammi Kapoor (Bluffmaster) and Biswajit (Kismat)!

For a singer without any formal musical training, she had an amazing vocal range and command over her voice. I love her folksy songs best, but there is no denying that she shone at every genre she handled – from the "Western" Meri jaan sunday ke sunday, to the haunting Dharti ko aakash pukare and the numerous peppy numbers that have been remixed ad infinitum in more recent times. Her biggest hits were from the 40s, most of which I’m not very familiar with. But even limiting myself to her 50s songs, I still had lots of great songs to choose from! The only way I could limit myself to “ten favorites” was by listing the first ten songs that came to mind – though even then it was a tough job since I did want to include some of her 40s songs and some of her lesser known numbers. And here is my list, in all its freshly edited glory (the songs are included in this youtube playlist):

1. Hum dard ka afsana (Dard, 1947) Music director: Naushad

It is at once an earnest appeal for compassion and a passionate avowal to improve their lot, by a group of orphans. When I first heard this song, I was struck by the earnestness in Shamshad Begum’s voice. Most of her songs that I had heard before, usually had her in a playful and bouncy mood, with the occasional sad song thrown in. Her unusual earnestness apart, I just enjoy this song for her voice that flows like a steady stream of melted chocolate – sweet, thick and so very rich!

2. Meri pyaari patang (Dillagi, 1949) with Uma Devi; Music director: Naushad

A group of playful women doing what apparently comes naturally to womankind – multi-tasking. They sing while they dance, fly kites and fight kite-battles. And it does not even appear to be an unusual scene in this village, else Suraiya wouldn’t be sitting with that bored expression on her face! Or perhaps she thinks that there are enough singers in the fray and so, won’t join in? Shamshad’s duet partner here is Uma Devi whom we know better as Tun Tun, the comedienne!

3. O dilwalon dil ka lagana (Patanga, 1949) with Chitalkar; Music director: Chitalkar Ramchandra

In a film teeming with popular songs, this one is admittedly lesser known than the hilarious Mere Piya gaye Rangoon, but I love the lyrics of this one more. The woman (Nigar Sultana) counsels the spectators that losing your heart [to someone] is a good thing, while the man (Yakub) qualifies it with "sometimes". And every time she extols the virtues of following your heart, he counters with a droll recital of the consequences! They end up concluding that it’s nice to fall in love, sometimes – ironic considering how much romance goes into the making of this film’s plot. And just listen to the voices – the singers are having as much fun singing as we have listening!

4. Saiyaan dil mein aana re (Bahar, 1951) Music director: S. D. Burman

I’ve loved this song ever since I heard it on radio, looooong ago. It’s such a happy song with all the trappings of romantic anticipation. There is a lilt in Shamshad’s voice and you can almost hear her dancing, skipping and jumping all over the place. And I loved it even more when I realised that onscreen, that is exactly what Vyjayanthimala does! This was by way of her (Vyjayanthi’s) Hindi film debut, and I can’t help but wonder if this lovely song had anything to do with the success of this film.

5. Do se ho gaye ek hum (Ashiana, 1952) with Kishore Kumar. Music director: Madan Mohan

Kishore-Shamshad always struck me as a rather unusual singing duo, more so because I (wrongly) think of them as belonging to different decades. So I am always surprised at how well matched they are, even in their humorous antics. Kishore may be Bollywood’s Buffoon No. 1, but here he is clearly out-buffooned by Shamshad. Just listen to her "O Mister" – it makes Kishore sound positively sober in comparison! The lyrics of the song are hilarious enough – a couple (can’t find the video so I can’t say who they are) are celebrating their wedding night and anticipating the divorce about to happen soon – but Shamshad’s buffoonery makes them even funnier.

6. Dekho dekho huzoor (Alibaba And Forty Thieves, 1954) with Mohammed Rafi. Music director: Chitragupta, S.N. Tripathi

This time it’s Rafi against whom Shamshad Begum plays off her humorous antics, while Arabic dates (the edible kind) and sour grapes play a very prominent role in the lyrics! A feisty Shakeela tries to hold off an ardent suitor (Mahipal, if I recall correctly) by telling him that she is "a bunch of sour grapes" that he will "not be able to reach". When the "sour grapes" come in the shape of Shakeela and sound like Shamshad, can one blame the said suitor for promising rashly that she is his Arabic date in whose shade he will spend his life?

7. Aa dil se dil milale (Hatim Tai, 1956) Music director: S.N. Tripathi

I love the Arabic sound of the music in this song, and Shamshad’s mellifluous voice is just the icing on the cake. While 'seductive' is not the first word that comes to mind when I think of her voice, this song certainly brings it up! When she sings Aa dil se dil mila le (come, let heart meet heart), I cannot understand Jairaj’s hesitation in following this particular invitation (anybody know who the actress is?). Is it because this song clearly calls out for some belly dancing that is remarkable by its absence?

8. Boojh mera kya naam re (CID, 1956) Music director: O. P. Nayyar

Shamshad Begum worked with a cross section of music directors, from her mentor Ghulam Haider to Naushad and Madan Mohan and other less well-known musicians, but nobody, in my opinion, used her voice to such good effect as O. P. Nayyar. Perhaps it was the touch of Punjab in his music and her voice that brought out that vibrant energy in her singing, but her songs with him remain her most popular ones to date. Coming back to this song - I love the flirty, peppy tone of the lyrics and Shamshad’s breezy rendition. You can hear the smile in her voice as she asks us to guess her name and gives clues about herself. And I love that Minu Mumtaz gets to lip-sync onscreen. She does it with just the right amount of teasing flirtatiousness, though I wish she were allowed to dance a bit more.

9. Bheega bheega pyar ka sama (Sawan, 1959) with Mohammed Rafi. Music director: Hansraj Behl

A foot-tapping romantic number, this one has long been a favourite of mine. There is nothing like Shamshad-Rafi being let loose in a peppy song complete with O. P. Nayyar’s signature horse-beats. But wait, this was composed by Hansraj Behl! Hmm… is that why it’s actually picturised on a couple traveling in a horse-cart? Instead of quibbling over small details like that, let’s enjoy Shamshad-Rafi giving full rein to their joy in singing and savour the sheer happiness this song embodies.

10. Kajra mohabbat waala (Kismat, 1968) with Asha Bhosle. Music director: O. P. Nayyar

While it was Kalyanji-Anandji who first successfully used her voice in an androgynous context, it is this OP Nayyar cross-dressing classic that has found long-lasting fame. It is still re-mixed and played in dance clubs! The reason isn’t far to seek: Shamshad-Asha bring such verve and playful energy to their singing; the music is vibrant and perfectly complements the singing; Babita-Biswajit channel the vivacity so well onscreen… In short, everything comes together in this song so well that it would take a very picky critic, indeed, to find a fault with it!

And before I sign off, here’s the Shamshad Begum interview that got me started on this post - part-I and part-II (the link was sent to me by my sister who wisely suggested I stop drooling over Rafi and think of my other favourite singers! Now I have, and will continue the series with some other singers over the next few months.)

Shamshad Begum links:

www.shamshadbegum.com - a fan site with lots of interesting information, songs and photos
Complete list of all Shamshad Begum-Mohammed Rafi duets (about 160 of them!)
Shamshad Begum:still topping the charts at 90