Jallian Wala Bagh (1977)

I was watching some interviews of Gulzar recently on YouTube. One thing that he mentioned in almost all his conversations was the impact of India’s partition on his life and works. Not surprising for someone who was born on the other side of the border that wasn’t present at that point of time, Gulzar talked very fondly about the land that was once a part of his being, and that presently was alienated from him, at least in terms of physical distances. But despite this admission, we find that the man was hardly ever a part of any cinematic venture that explored the stories of that painful time. Most of his work that revolved around that motif was not done for the big screen. His poems, his stories, and anecdotes on the subject are a part of his poetry books, his memoirs, and some plays that have been adapted from the same.

Gulzar in a still from Jallian Wala Bagh

However my quick research reminded me of one movie set in pre-independence India, which Gulzar contributed to immensely. Jallian Wala Bagh, a movie directed by Mr. Balraj Tah (one time director/film-maker), had its screenplay and dialogues written by the maestro of words. Chronicling the events around the horrific incident that gave a new impetus to the Indian Nationalist movement, the movie can also be termed as a sketchy biography of Shaheed Uddham Singh, the revolutionary young man who murdered the man largely responsible for the mass massacre that happened on 13^th April, 1919.

Parikshit Sahni essays the role of Uddham Singh, while Vinod Khanna and Deepti Naval play major parts that bring in some star value to the otherwise non-commercial looking venture. Shabana Azmi has an insignificant cameo, but the surprise of the show is a meaty role by none other than Gulzar. As a young man contributing to the freedom struggle while living in London, Gulzar delivers a patchy performance that vindicates his decision of not going in front of the camera ever again. However the portions involving him are some of the most polished part of the otherwise amateurish attempt by the first time director.

The movie is far from being a very fine one. However, at just over 100 minutes in length, it is a reasonably good watch, at least from the point of view of being an important film based on true events. It is tough to describe it as a biopic as it fails to do justice to that genre despite having Uddham Singh as a fulcrum for the narrative. As an effort that documents a critical chapter of our freedom movement, the movie again falls short. Ultimately it ends up as a confused attempt that could have been made into a defining feature, had some more research and effort been done before making it. Some of the factors that redeem the movie are:

Non-violence vs Violence: How to get India to revolt?

• Its depiction of the underling conflict between the extreme revolutionaries and the moderate (and non-violent) Gandhian reformers. The characters of Om Shivpuri and Vinod Khanna, father and son, are at constant loggerheads regarding the approach that the freedom struggle should adopt. Here Deepti Naval provides the balancing act and articulates the difficulty in making one choice out of the two. This debate later continues between Uddham Singh and Om Shivpuri’s character in London, two decades after the incident of Jallian Wala Bagh.
• The introduction of a global perspective to the proceedings in the later part of the film. When Uddham Singh reaches London, the world is in a state of conflict, with Hitler on the warpath. It is refreshing to see a movie talk about the broader canvas, while not losing the grip of the core plot. The use of an English lady’s character that supports Uddham Singh and Sunil (Gulzar) against the British is done really well, and executed sans any stereotypes.
• A major part of the second part (which is set in England) is in English. This again is quite different for a movie that largely talks to a Hindi speaking audience. In fact this leads me to believe that the second part of the movie, which has much finesse as compared to the first, must have been shot first. The first hour of the movie (the events leading to the massacre) might have been shot later with more mainstream appeal in the hope of giving the movie a commercial release.

Parikshit Sahni as 'Uddham Singh', the revolutionary who killed  Micheal O'Dwyer, the man responsible for the massacre of Jallian Wala Bagh

In the hands of an expert (or rather more ambitious) director, the subject of the movie could have been exploited better. Haven’t we seen many Hollywood movies going back to the past to churn our Oscar winning films? Here it must be said that our Hindi film industry has not made use of the vast source of literature that our pre-independence days resulted it. Neither has our period of struggle been given its due importance in many of our films. We have a very few films that talk about that era, and sadly many of them are on similar subjects (with the life of Bhagat Singh seeing more than five cinematic representations over the years). 

A Poster of the movie: Highlighting the commercial elements, while concealing the real ones

Taxi Taxie (1977)

In 1976, Martin Scorsese came up with Taxi Driver, a movie that went on to be viewed as one of the best films ever. Starring Robert De Niro, the movie garnered tremendous critical acclaim and emerged as a cult classic. Over the years many directors have been inspired by its style and the way it went about constructing a psychological study of a man leading a life shrouded by disturbing elements, or rather deconstructing the psychological state of disturbed man finding it difficult to come to terms with his environs.

Closer home, a man called Irshaad made a movie titled Taxi Taxie, casting Amol Palekar in the lead as a taxi driver operating in the metropolis of Mumbai. This movie that came out in 1977 seems to be clearly inspired by the English classic that released a year before. However it must be said that it is the best sort of inspiration. The director/writer has been influenced by the idea of his famous contemporary from the west, and has created a completely different movie, completely different narrative of his own, which is quite unique and interesting.

Amol Palekar, quite fondly given the moniker ‘Hero’ by his fellow Mumbai Taxiwallahs, is an honest and diligent worker who spends most of his time on the streets of Mumbai, helping various people move around the city. However, he himself finds it difficult to navigate through certain cobwebs in his mind, which keep pushing him back to his past. His choice of being a taxi driver, despite being well qualified academically, comes as an enigma to his old college friend who he runs into one day. He justifies it by voicing the joys of being constantly with various passengers, who he treats like fellow companions in the journey of life. The profession, thus, is his way of parrying off any chances of falling prey to loneliness. There is also a more romantic reason of him wanting to search for an old flame who he hopes would run into him, if luck is on his side. Thus, all the time his eyes keep searching for that familiar face while he drives through the good and bad wonders of the city.

As a part of his routine, Hero chances into a hapless (and kind) prostitute more than once, and forges a friendly relationship with her. He also meets a struggling playback singer who somehow reminds him of his flame who he wants to reconnect with quite badly. There is also a kind Christian landlady with whom he shares a lovely bond. It is through these relationships that Hero’s thoughts and conflicts are brought to the fore wonderfully well.

The movie is quite atmospheric and the city of Mumbai plays a crucial role in binding the narrative. Quite like the recent Aamir Khan starrer Talaash, a movie that also shares some other similarities with this thirty five year old forgotten flick. People who have been to Mumbai will find it quite interesting to see all their favourite places from ‘town area’ being given due prominence in the film (without ever pushing the main context to the background). Some deftly handled small touches can be appreciated after every few minutes, which makes the film appear very technically sound in spite of the apparent low budget.

The best thing about the movie is that despite its very heavy subject and philosophical tone, it never comes across as too much to take in. Some light-hearted moments are nicely done, and some appear contrived today, but by and large it is an extremely fresh screenplay which at least I have not seen replicated in (or replicated from) any other Hindi movie. Apart from Amol Palekar and a stunningly beautiful and assured Reena Roy, none of the actors show much finesse. However the below average acting acumen of two of the three leading ladies is not at all jarring, as Amol is in each and every frame to balance proceedings. 

The music is tuneful and soothing, and surprisingly not overdone. But it is one of those Hindi movies which do not need the crutches of super-hit songs to stand tall. The meat in the concept and the surprisingly well written dialogues take care of almost everything. Another point worth appreciating about the feature is that it never meanders, even when its lead meanders in his realms of thoughts. In the hands of a lesser director, the plot could have turned into a crime/mystery drama, (I have seen some Hindi movies taking that route after showing a lot of promise in the initial reels) but fortunately here the man in-charge sticks to the point.

Parting Note: Taxi Taxie is a very good Hindi film lost in oblivion. Definitely an excellent watch even today.

Annadata (1972)

Many of our old Hindi movies have messages that have not lost their relevance over the years. In fact some of them seem to have been written with a crystal ball in tow, for the incipience of the issues they reflected on at that time has turned into a chronic persistence in the modern world of today. Annadata, one such film made by Asit Sen almost forty years ago, is a film that moots the breeding selfishness in the modern materialistic world and questions whether there is any good left in the world deafened by the rumble of avarice and ambition.

A rich industrialist Amba Prasad (essayed by an immensely likable Om Prakash) is referred to as annadata because of his largesse and charitable disposition. In the urban jungle that incubates the battle between the haves and the have-nots, he stands tall as someone who uses his wealth for the good of everyone, and not just for himself. However, false news of his death opens a can of worms when a large number of his blood relatives start fighting amongst themselves while staking a claim to his empire. But what truly breaks his heart is when his adopted daughter claims to have been an illicit relationship with him (forced by her gold-digging parents), just to proclaim herself to be a true heir to his vast empire. This cruel accusation completely shatters the old man’s faith in the world and he leaves everything he owns in care of his manager, while embarking on a journey, with only his pet dog accompanying him, to discover his lost belief in mankind.

On his journey when he is just about to give up all hope, a chance encounter brings him in touch with Aarti (Jaya Bhaduri), who nurses him to good health. In the days that follow Amba Prasad discovers how one woman epitomized all that he was looking for in the world- honesty, selflessness, benevolence, and righteousness. When he had started getting the feeling of been marooned on an island of spite and no respite, Aarti’s care and love ensnares him in her small yet salubrious world that blossoms with empathy of its occupants. Amba Prasad also strikes a quaint companionship with Aarti’s lover Arun (Anil Dhawan), an idealist painter whose lack of means makes him hesitant to solemnize his love for Aarti.

The movie is far from perfect despite the well intentioned premise. There are unnecessary scenes and also some shoddy acting, led by a very stiff and unintentionally hilarious Anil Dhawan. A polished actor would have definitely added tremendous weight to some complex scenes that fail to achieve their purpose with the present actor. The songs by Salil Chowdhary, though melodious, aren’t as neatly woven with the story as say Gulzar film songs would be. But Jaya Bhaduri and Om Prakash’s assured presence, and the brevity of most scenes that could have fallen in the trap of sermonizing, ensures that the film remains a light yet meaningful watch that ends on a positive note. In fact the film traverses the gargantuan distance between pessimism and optimism in just about two hours.

Parting Note: Annadata is akin to a Hrishikesh Mukherjee film that has its screenplay woven around a good idea, and is given a light-hearted treatment with melodrama kept to the bare minimum.

Dastak (1970)

That knocking on the door…

In the process of discovering and experiencing some lesser talked about or simply forgotten chapters of Hindi cinema, I have being surprised more than once by the sensitivity of our storytellers. There have been so many instances of ordinary real life emotions being brought out extraordinarily on celluloid, that one has to admire the thoughtfulness and the dexterity of the people who ‘wrote’ our Hindi movie heritage. Almost all the movies that we see today are a reflection on some or the other film from our past. Yes, there have been quantum changes in technique, setting, and circumstances, but the core emotions remain quite the same.

And thus when I saw Dastak, conceptualized and brought to life by Rajinder Singh Bedi, one of the stalwarts of Hindi and Urdu literature (and films), I was quite taken aback. Here is one story that is so unique, and so very glowing with brilliance, that it has almost no parallel. The idea, the context, and the sheer execution of this very human and humane drama, is a delight to watch.

A young recently married couple move into a small house in one of those crowded and cramped spaces of Mumbai. In a neighbourhood bustling with activity, the two decide to embark on a lifelong journey together. But all their dreams and all their expectations go for a toss once they discover the murky identity of their new abode, i.e. once they discover that just before them their home was being occupied by a notorious nauch girl and prostitute. Every second day in the middle of the night when the world sleeps, Hamid and Salma are harrowed by incessant knocking on their main door, by some or the other lost soul seeking refuge in the arms of Shamshad Begum, a lady who even in her absence manages to cast a icy cold wall between the much in love couple. How all this affects the psyche of the two, and how they attempt to fight the war their neighbourhood wages against them, is what the film is all about. At the same time a discerning viewer will appreciate the social commentary made in the background, leveraging upon what all happens in the foreground.

Rehana Sultan as Salma

There are so many metaphors used in the film, but none as striking as the caged mynah that becomes the third occupant of the cursed flat in question. Every day Hamid goes to work, leaving his comely wife Salma trapped at home. Her very existence till the evening, when Hamid returns, becomes a monumental challenge. The claustrophobic neighbourhood, with its closely packed blocks of urban settlement, ensures that there are always some prying eyes trying to close in on her whenever she seeks a bout of fresh air through the windows. The notoriety that their flat gives them moreover ensures that whenever she tries take forward her father’s legacy in classical singing, there are always suspicious voices to be heard questioning her integrity and the very fabric of their matrimony. Thus Salma without Hamid is not very different from their pet mynah that at least has the consolation of being free inside the cage, unlike its owner.

The other aspect of the story is Hamid’s struggle to find a new flat for himself and his wife. The city is unforgiving in its demeanour, with its intimidating tall structures and unscrupulous people. His work-life too is not exactly a cruise as every now and then he lands in a situation of moral dilemma where his ideals ensure that he makes no financial headway to erase ghosts of his wretched personal life.

Sanjeev Kumar as Hamid

In one very significant phase of the screenplay the couple decides to just run away from everything, back to their village. But there too, they witness enough misery to be compelled to return to their cursed urban abode. This excursion from reality to another reality teaches the two an important lesson that they acknowledge towards the end of the film, just after a spectacular climax. The last sequence of the story, that also includes a song, is a stamp of genius. One of the best Hindi movie climaxes ever for one of the most unique Hindi film ever!

The performances from the two protagonists, Sanjeev Kumar and Rehana Sultan are mesmerizing to the core. Has there ever been a more natural actor than the former? Rehana Sultan, in one of her first few films, is so good that it looks like she was born to play this role. The songs by Madan Mohan are melodious and heart-wrenching with lyrics that will make you bow your heads (and backs) in respect. What poetry by Majrooh Sultanpuri!

Parting Note: Do watch this film. Do watch this film. Do watch this film. Do watch this film. Do watch this film. (substitute for 5 stars)

P.S.: The chief editor for the film was Hrishikesh Mukherjee! 

Thikana (1987)

There was a time when Mahesh Bhatt used to make films. Good, bad, ugly- whatever- but they were never business projects, just stories that he used to put to life on celluloid. And more often than not they were stories that emanated from the heart that aimed to strike a cord with the hearts of the patrons. Strike a cord with hearts. Nothing above. Nothing below!

Thikana is one such story that is quintessential Mahesh Bhatt of the 1980s. Emotionally verbose, melodramatically intricate, perfectly imperfect, and remarkably sinuous. And yet at the core the film’s simplicity is akin to a child bawling in pain in front of his mother. Save the last thirty minutes when it deep-dives into the pits of mediocrity, the film could have been a well remembered one.

The genre of the movie can be defined as pulp fiction at best- the kind which is available in abundance in the bookstalls of the railway stations across the country. The sub-genres can be described as concentric circles- with mystery forming the outermost circle, and drama forming the central core. The story is woven around the travails of an idealist lawyer, Ravi, who is also unabashed drunkard. Anil Kapoor plays this wasted young man who is pitied, detested, and admired in equal measure. This is established by scene early on in the movie when an inebriated Ravi returns home one night to the caustic remarks of his widowed mother and the comforting presence of his elder sister Shashi (essayed by Smita Patil). What follows next is a full blown melodrama where a semblance of sobriety is incorporated through some wonderful dialogue. The very next morning, however, normalcy is restored, acting as a subtle metaphor to the new day and the fresh start it indicates.

Some other powerful scenes follow, one in which when Ravi’s self-respect is questioned he decides to do away with the ideals he had inherited from his father. In the court of law, he is asked to prove that a young girl is of legally marriageable age, when she clearly looks like being years away from that. How Ravi’s hands waver while signing the testimony and how he admits to have been led astray by his own insecurities, is a study in how a single powerful scene can etch out a characterization that in most movies a series of scenes cannot. Some remarkable scenes between Shashi’s fiancé Ranbir Singh (a police officer- enacted by a superb Suresh Oberoi) and Ravi follow. In fact it is the relationship between these two men and their confrontations constitute the most emphatic part of the movie. A cameo by Anupam Kher is worth mentioning, but just like the movie- it is overstretched and redundant beyond a point.

The most striking part of this movie however is that each and every character has grey shades. And thus the dialogue is so forthright that it gets uncomfortable for an average Hindi movie watcher after a while. But what’s not unusual here is the generous use of songs, and none of them worth a mention. And neither the unnecessary and completely headache inducing last part of the movie, which kind of overshadows the merits of the first three-fourth of the movie to a certain extent. It looks like a lot of it shot keeping the commercial prospects of the film in mind. But in retrospect it might have just backfired.

Performances from Anil Kapoor and Suresh Oberoi are the highlights. Smita Patil is her usual poor weepy self and Amrita Singh (who plays Ravi’s love interest) is in her usual flashy yet lost avatar.

Parting Note: The film is engrossing for most parts and has some remarkably well-written moments of drama. However the last half an hour prevents this movie from being a fondly recalled one.

Trivia: This film was released after Smita Patil's demise and thus its release was dedicated to her.

Yaadein (1964)

Almost fifty years ago, with this movie, Sunil Dutt attempted something remarkably innovative and courageous… a hundred minute feature starring no one else but himself!

Vanity is undesirable. But no one can deny that some of the greatest artists been some of the most vainglorious people of their time. Be it painters or actors, politicians or writers. If the vanity was not in their words, it was in their works. If it was not in their works, it was in their actions. In some ways a Mahatma Gandhi walking semi-naked, with just a loincloth on, into the viceroy’s office was a blasphemously vain thing to do!

So, is humility overrated?

Cinema, being a visual medium, is a breeding ground for narcissism. Some people, the privileged lot blessed by above average looks, express the very emotion by being very finicky about their physicality. Some others take the other route, of being much in love with their craft- and in the process many of them end of pushing the envelope. ‘Yaadein’ is one such example where an artist’s indulgence with himself and his craft has produced an extremely unique and personal piece of work. More than a movie, it is a statement that there is no limit to creativity and that the possibilities are indeed infinite.

But all said and done cinema is a medium to entertain, most would say. But a few would add that it is also a medium to express. However, the two things are seldom separate as more innovative the expression, more is the probability of it also being entertaining. So is ‘Yaadein’ entertaining? Depends on what your cup of tea is.

For those who can appreciate experiments for how much out from the box they are, will certainly relish watching the movie, despite its excruciatingly slow pace. Also, there is another set of people (a big one at that) who might identify with a lot of things Sunil Dutt does in the movie- people who are married and especially ones who have been that for a while. But those who look for a story (a majority I presume) would be disappointed (that is if they manage to complete the film- my guess is they won’t! I just about managed myself).

The film has a young Sunil Dutt coming home after work and discovering that his wife has walked out of his life- taking with her their two kids and leaving behind a note… and lifetime of memories. As the night progresses the man starts reminiscing of the past and transforms from being an angry and vengeful husband to a helpless and hopeless romantic, longing for his wife and kids. In the process his soliloquy is what keeps the audience company. Instead of using other actors, Sunil Dutt uses sounds, dialogues, shadows, puppets, balloons, and what not- to create the scenes. To an ardent movie lover, this very compromise and how it is executed would be worth the hundred minutes of the run-time.

Once I was done watching the film, a question just came to my mind intuitively. How does Sanjay Dutt feel when he watches this film of his parents? It is like reading a personal diary for it contains so many moments that seem to come straight out of Sunil Dutt and Nargis Dutt’s lives. Today both of them are no more, but their work would remain forever for the benefit of their posterity (and the fans). Truly, cinema (or art in general) is one sure way created by mere mortals to achieve immortality. It is their elixir; it is their ‘Piyush’… (pardon couldn't resist!)

Mere Jeevan Saathi (1972)

Imagine a scene:

A father and his seven year old son watching an IPL match together. In a commercial break a new Havells advert featuring a diminished and dilapidated old man and his countless fans (literal) captures the attention of the kid. He ignores it the first few times, but finally cannot resist asking his father the question.

“Papa, who is this old looking man, and why are they showing this ad again and again?”

The father looks at his innocent son, wondering what to tell him.

“Beta, he was a very popular film star once.”

“Papa, then what happened to him? Why is he not seen in films anymore?”

At that very moment the strategic timeout ends and the match resumes. The kid forgets the question he had asked his father, and once again gets lost in the glitz and glamour of the festival that celebrates his favorite sport, bat-ball. The old man and his fans are forgotten too, and the next time the ad comes, it is given hardly any attention. Meanwhile the father gives a wry smile when he sees print version of the same ad campaign in the newspaper he reads.

***

The Rajesh Khanna phenomenon is like folklore for the kids of my generation and the subsequent ones. Every now and then, when the topic of cinema and stardom was touched upon during the many family viewings of popular classics on television (mostly Amitabh Bachchan ones-Sholay, Amar Akbar Anthony, Deewar etc.), the name Rajesh Khanna was mentioned and dwelt upon for a few moments, and then life began as usual. The name got relegated to the back of a busy memory storage device, where it lies dust-ridden and ignored.

Ask a film aficionado from the 70s generation or about that time, and chances are that you will get to hear many crazy stories about the star’s sky-high popularity in the early 70s. Some will claim most emphatically that such a phenomenon was never seen again, and that it’s unlikely that it would be repeated anytime soon. His rapid rise to fame and the cruel fall to become an almost B-grade star is a stuff of filmy legends. Even after his fall from grace, he continued to do a lot of films, and even managed some intermittent hits, but never again that time returned when he was the Midas, and he was the gold.

Now when someone watches his films, it is hard to keep it separate from his real life story and the rise and troughs of his career. Almost all his films from the late 1960s to about 1973 (the year when he did a film called Namak Haram with the rising superstar at that time- Amitabh Bachchan), have him at his confident best (or it seems). Many of his later films too have great merit, but he as a performer doesn’t seem as assured and as much in command as he does in his early films. In fact Mere Jeevan Saathi, a 1972 film, is one which gives the impression of being designed to suit his larger than life image. It certainly revels in paying homage to all the things for which he was loved and adored. It is the kind of film which is unrestrained in singing eulogies to a persona that is bigger than anything else in the movie. After one watching this film, one can easily imagine the context and the phase in which it was made. And anyone who is interested in making sense of the Rajesh Khanna phenomenon must experience this one.

The superstar plays a Casanova, an artist, a singer. He gets to strut around in garish and loud clothes (in vogue at that time), gets to flirt with girls ready to eat out of his hands (and what not!), and gets to sing songs to an audience of admirers and fans. All this, and more, happens in the first half of the movie when he is chased by a rich spoilt princess (Helen), and he chases and demure and comely young lady doctor (Tanuja) and falls madly in love with her. In the second half things change color and Rajesh Khanna gets to play the other side of his persona that was quite famous at that time- the romantic hero stuck fighting through tragic circumstances. He meets with an accident and lands up in the palace of the very princess who he had ignored and rejected. At what more, he loses his eyesight and becomes a prisoner of his ardent admirer who treats him like a slave. Meanwhile the heroine (an ophthalmologist) sets up a hospital and meets another suitor and his family. What happens next is not very difficult to predict, but it is that kind of a film that holds not much novelty factor, but just comes across as a very well packaged story playing up the image of its lead star.

The most attractive thing about this film is its songs and music by RD Burman. Classics, all of them and I am signing off with my favorite of them all…