THE SPOILS OF LARGESSE
In the run-up to the centenary of Indian cinema, in this Film Impressions special feature we take a look (through an extensive photo-feature and an accompanying essay) at all the women from the Indian film industry who have been decorated with state honors, and what this cross-section of diverse talent tells us about our cinema.
FOR COMPLETE PHOTO FEATURE READ IN MAGAZINE LAYOUT BELOW
If you happen to visit Prithvi Theatre in Mumbai to watch a play, chances are you might spot an old man sitting on a wheelchair in a corner of the Theatre's cafe or under the banyan tree. Get closer and you will realise he isn't just any old man but a heartbreaking shadow of one of Hindi cinema's most good-looking heroes of yesteryear. The man who fulfilled his father's dream of setting up a dedicated space for the performing arts, which, 34 years later, continues to live up to its promise of providing an affordable, intimate venue for theatre in a relatively quiet nook in Juhu.
SONG IN HER HEART
Between lofty words and platitudes, everything there is to say about Lata Mangeshkar's vocal prowess has already been said ad nauseum. Truth be told, she lost my 'favourite singer' mantle to younger sister Asha Bhosle sometime in the early '80s (and later dropped to third place below the far less prolific but intense Geeta Dutt), when time was tied to the hands of the faithful radio set, and Laxmikant Pyarelal were challenging the limits of her chords with compositions like "Solah baras ki baali umar ko salaam" (Ek Duuje Ke Liye, 1981). It must be clarified that this is merely a matter of preference and not a critical assessment of her oeuvre.
But Hindi cinema is replete with Lata classics that warm the cockles––she is, after all, our most prolific singer and blessed with timbre dipped in divinity––from the time before shrillness of pitch drowned the sweetness of voice, most evident in several of Madan Mohan's best compositions.
Continue reading "LIST: Lata Mangeshkar's Timeless Melodies" »
THE DREAM MAKER
We wrote this piece last month to celebrate Yash Chopra's 80th birthday on September 27 describing him as 'Bollywood's only contemporary auteur'. Sadly, it now serves as his obituary
1959. It was the year Anil Kapoor and Sanjay Dutt were born. Jawaharlal Nehru was India's Prime Minister. Television finally arrived in the country with the setting up of the state-run Doordarshan. Bajaj Auto got a manufacturing license for producing two and three wheelers. Guru Dutt released his ambitious Kaagaz Ke Phool. And B.R. Chopra launched his younger brother Yash as director with Dhool Ka Phool.
THE ETERNAL ROMANTIC
Rajesh Khanna must have known exactly how his obituary would read, regardless of the circumstances of his life and death. In arguably the most poignant farewell speech in Indian film history, Khanna's Anand, the eponymous hero of the 1971 film, prophetically intoned from a tape recording after his death: "Zindagi aur maut uparwale ke haath mein hai Jahanpanah.... Hum sab toh is rangmanch ki kathputliyan hain jinki dor uparwale ke haath mein hai. Kab, kaun, kaise utthega, yeh koi nahin jaan sakta..." etc.
These immortal words would play in a loop all day long and countless women and thousands of boys named after him, would shed tears for a man they knew intimately, loved obsessively—as he serenaded gorgeous women, sang melodies that gave their own mundane lives meaning and then broke millions of hearts by marrying a 16-year-old sensation called Dimple Kapadia.
A DEATH FORETOLD
After watching films day in and day out for years on end, one thinks there's little that can inspire shock or awe. But it's not true. Take, for instance, this Smita Patil film I'd missed watching for nearly 30 years. It was first released in 1984 with an adult certification—hence seeing it then was out of the question. And I may have stayed untouched by it forever but for my equally film-crazed uncle who had spent considerable time trying to source a particular Asha Bhonsle song from the film which he remembered fondly. After scouring the Lamington Road footpath and exhausting every possible source on the internet, he had all but given up, when I miraculously discovered a VCD of the film on Flipkart.
Continue reading "NOSTALGIA: The Eerie Prophecy of 'Pet Pyaar Aur Paap'" »
OVER-THE-TOP AND THEN SOME MORE...
Raj Kumar Santoshi's magnum opus from 2001—Lajja—hasn't ever been a critics' favorite, with its undeniably well-meaning roster of ideas obscured by the garish masala elements that Santoshi's cinema has long been associated with. Still, it remains one of the Indian cinema's few attempts at using a mainstream idiom to give voice to women's issues in an all-expansive pan-Indian manner, that some may have considered overwrought at the time of its release. As it pans out, Lajja now occupies its own niche as a cult classic—a slice of 'found art' entertainment where women took centrestage in several irrepressible ways, even if it required a man in superhero mode (Ajay Devgn) to save the day in the end. The cast of women were spear-headed by Rekha, Madhuri Dixit, Mahima Chaudhury and a luminous Manisha Koirala. In this special Film Impressions slide-show, we pay tribute to the ensemble of female actors who tried their best to make Lajja an enduring human document, but failed gallantly.
Thespians Manisha Koirala and Rekha in a pivotal scene in the film
A CAREER-DEFINING ROLE
A girl who grows up too soon, a mother who doesn’t know how to balance her own needs with that of her daughter’s. A woman in search of her true identity. An actress whose reel life often spills over into her real self, creating tempestuous situations she can barely cope with. Shyam Benegal’s Bhumika, based on the book Sangtye Aika, by Marathi actress Hansa Wadkar, traces these dilemma’s in the life of the poor village girl Usha as she rises to stardom and drifts from one traumatic relationship to the next, in her constant quest for fulfillment.
Smita Patil was just 22 when she essayed this role of a lifetime. It fetched her a National Award and tremendous critical acclaim.
The Women of Bhumika: Please wait for the slideshow to load, and navigate using the 'next' and 'previous' links.
SLIDESHOW TEXT BY VIKRAM PHUKAN. These images are screengrabs from the official release DVD. No copyright infringement intended.
Smita Patil’s closest friend Jhelum Paranjape recalls how when the actress immersed herself in a role, she often ‘became’ the character. Given Smita’s affinity towards women’s issues and concern for their disadvantaged status in contemporary society, the part of Sulabha Mahajan in Jabbar Patel’s Umbartha (The Threshold) was especially close to her heart. More so, because the character of the intense and fiery social worker adapted to screen by noted playwright Vijay Tendulkar from Shanta Nisal’s Marathi novel Beghar (Homeless), seemed so much like her mother, Vidya Patil, a dedicated social worker. While playing Sulabha, Smita married her mother’s poise (evident in her precise body language), with her own passion and vulnerability. It may not have fetched her the National Awards Bhumika and Chakra did, but won enough acclaim to warrant a special retrospective of her films in France and earned her recognition as a feminist icon.
In 1949, Dev Anand and elder brother Chetan Anand launched their banner Navketan Films and ushered in an exciting era that not just redefined the way Hindi movies were made, but also launched several talented artists and technicians. It was under the Navketan roof that directors Guru Dutt, Raj Khosla and Vijay Anand, music directors S D Burman and R D Burman, cinematographer Fali Mistry and V Ratra did some of their best work. Together they produced films that continue to keep audiences riveted, decades after they were made.
BAAZI (1951): Navketan’s second production marked the directorial debut of Dev Anand’s friend, Guru Dutt. An urban crime caper featuring Anand, Geeta Bali and Kalpana Karthik, Baazi was characterised by Dutt’s attention to detail, evinced in every aspect of the film—the stark cinematography, sharp editing and a unique approach to song picturisation as seen in the Geeta Dutt number, “Tadbir se bigdi hui taqdeer”.
with Geeta Bali in Baazi
Continue reading "NOSTALGIA: The Legacy of Navketan Films" »
