For those going on about Vidya Balan's guises in Bobby Jasoos: in 1936's Bambai Ki Billi (or Wildcat of Bombay), Ruby Myers (Sulochana) played all of eight characters, many of them men: a gardener, a policeman, a Hyderabadi gentleman, a street urchin, a European blonde, an old banana-seller and an expert pickpocket who gives her money to charity. It was a remake of her 1927 silent hit — both films are believed to be lost. Bambai Ki Billi is one of 21 most wanted missing Indian cinema treasures identified by National Film Archive of India founder P K Nair, on whose exploits the recent documentary Celluloid Man was based. Read more at mahalmovies.com/

Here's Issabhai Suratwala (played by Johnny Walker), the artistic director of an amateur drama company, who befriends Rajesh Khanna's terminally ill but perennially cheerful cancer patient (lymphosarcoma of the intestines, is what he had). The dialogues of the film, directed by Hrishikesh Mukherjee, are credited to Gulzar, with lyrics written by him and Yogesh. The image features Issabhai (or Murarilal) with Amitabh Bachchan, the babu moshai, Dr Bhaskar Banerjee.

"ए मौत... तू इक कविता है।
मुझसे इक कविता का वादा है... मिलेगी मुझको
डूबती नब्जों में जब दर्द को नींद आने लगे
जर्द सा चेहरा लिये चाँद उफ़क़ तक पहुँचे
दिन अभी पानी में हो रात किनारें के क़रीब
न अभी अँधेरा हो, न उजाला हो, ना रात ना दिन
जिस्म जब ख़त्म हो और रूह को साँस आए
मुझसे इक कविता का वादा है... मिलेगी मुझको"

One of the most romantic scenes in Indian film, from 1972's Pakeezah, is also one of the most passive, as leading lady Meena Kumari (as the courtesan Sahibjaan) sleeps through it. It takes place in one of those opulent first class carriages seen so often in yesteryear films as a social signifier of class or refinement. Raaj Kumar, in a rare role in which his mannered self suits his aristocratic character perfectly, leaves her a note tucked between her toes, "Aapke paon dekhe, bahut haseen hai. / Inhe zameen par mat utariyega, maile ho jayenge" (of course, director Kamal Amrohi drives the irony home in case somebody missed it the first time by getting Sahibjaan's aide Bibban to later expound upon the plight of courtesans and how their feet provide their livelihood). In another scene, he watches her as she sleeps once again, enthralled by her vulnerability, or her presumed innocence. It's a pastime indulged in by only the most ardently adoring, perhaps.

We had our own Pirates of the Caribbean back in 1955, with Nadira at the helm of Pyaara Dushman, which was produced by the comedian Bhagwan, of Albela fame. Nadira's forgotten early career was that of a bona fide star who fetched top billing in her films and a handsome pay packet (she was one of the first actresses to own a Rolls Royce). Her most famous films in this period were Aan, Shree 420, Dil Apna Aur Preet Parai and Motilal's National Award winning swan song, Chhoti Chhoti Baten.

bit.ly/UZx1hL | Over at Tablet Magazine, a podcast on Jewish women who were queens of Indian cinema: "Rose Ezra. Ruby Myers. Farhat Ezekiel Nadira. From the earliest years of Bollywood, these and other Jewish actresses garnered starring roles. And while they may have looked somewhat exotic to moviegoers, they came from Baghdadi Jewish families who had been living in India for decades. Reporter Eric Molinsky speaks to film scholars, as well as friends and relatives of these once-beloved but now mostly forgotten stars of Indian cinema, to find out how they became the “go-to girls” for leading female roles in the 1920s, ’30s, and beyond."

Vishal Bharadwaj's upcoming Haider, featuring an in-form Shahid Kapoor, is another in a lineage of cinematic Hamlets that have featured in Hindi cinema. The very first was a take by Sohrab Modi in 1935, titled Khoon Ka Khoon. It was filmed in Hindi and Urdu and shot in the 'play within a play' format, and one of the first known Shakespeare talkies. It is one of 21 most wanted missing Indian cinema treasures identified by National Film Archive of India founder P K Nair. Kishore Sahu's 1954 version, titled Hamlet, featured a young Mala Sinha as Ophelia, and imitated Lawrence Olivier's definitive Hamlet (1948) almost shot-for-shot.

Via Rothwell and Henkin Melzer; Shakespeare on Screen: an International Filmography and Videography:

"Sahu, for his pains, was rewarded after a gala premiere at the Metro Theatre with unparalleled vituperation by a hostile review in Filmindia. Not only does the film "slander" Shakespeare's memory but also "Hiralal who plays the king was made a drunken clown," and Laertes, we are told, had "a callow and silly face." The picture itself is "stupid" and displays "stinking selfishness." In unpublished comments, film archivist Luke McKernan agrees that Sahu's Hamlet left much to be desired, for "a Hamlet who has no idea of what he is doing is not the same as one who simply cannot make up his mind." McKernan was also troubled by some textual changes involving the play-within-the-play and the duel scene; on the other hand, Ophelia (Mala Sinha) was about "as good as you will ever see," being "perky, impassioned, human." Gertrude too was fine, and the film worked hard at imitating the mise en scène for the Olivier Hamlet with castle battlements, poses (Hamlet in his chair), and stair imagery. The two gravediggers unforgettably dance while singing a bizarre comic song. The film's "lack of Indian-ness" disappointed McKernan but he thought its technical side far better than Filmindia's assessment."

Not to be undone, Dara Singh shored up a remake of the Modi version in 1966, also called Khoon Ka Khoon, directed by Kamran Khan. It was billed as an action adventure.

bit.ly/UnEgis | 1964's Dosti, a melodrama on friendship from Rajshri Productions, completes 50 years of its existence this year. Its two young lead actors, Sudhir Kumar and Sushil Kumar, at the cusp of tremendous early success found no takers, prompting rumors of career sabotage by a contemporary actor (and even murder!). Of course, these rumors are unfounded, as Sushil Kumar is alive and well, and lives in Chembur, and in this long interview with Beete Hue Din, sets the record straight once and for all. However, there was no looking back for the other duo more widely credited for the film's runaway success, composers Laxmikant–Pyarelal, who were able to break away from B-movies like Parasmani (with its hit soundtrack, irrespective).

Image: (above) a publicity still of the two actors, and (below) Sushil with actor Leela Chitnis, Lux siren and singing star of the 40s, who's mostly remembered for the litany of long suffering mothers she played later in her career.

One of critic Philip Concannon's cinematic discoveries: "Kalpana (1948 film) was conceived and directed by Uday Shankar, the brother of the legendary musician Ravi Shankar, and it proved to be the only film he would ever make. Uday was already a renowned choreographer in India before he embarked on this project, spending four years in production on a film that expressed itself through all forms of Indian dance. He cast himself as choreographer determined to establish a theatre that celebrates Indian culture and heritage while getting embroiled in an ongoing love triangle, with this central narrative being the springboard for a series of remarkable fantasy dance sequences.

"Shankar also finds room in Kalpana's 155 minutes for plenty of comedy, some political commentary on the future of India and even a satire on the movie business, which the director attempted to circumnavigate by financing this passion project himself. Kalpana took Uday Shankar the best part of five years to make, and perhaps the reason he never stepped behind a camera again is simply that he plunged every single filmmaking idea and instinct into this extraordinary feast of a film. Kalpana is a true one-off, and a wonderful rediscovery by Martin Scorsese's World Cinema Foundation."

Whole film can be downloaded here: pad.ma/CFN/info

One of the most remarkable Indian actresses ever, Geeta Bali was born for feisty tempestuous parts like here in Guru Dutt's Baaz, which was incidentally Dutt's first film as a leading man (and third as a director). Of course, the titular 'Falcon' is Bali herself, as a pirate cum freedom fighter — the film is set against the backdrop of the Portuguese occupation of Malabar (present day Kerala). Although wonderfully shot, it lacks the depth (and philosophical moorings) of Dutt's best work, but its strong feminist undertones certainly compares favorably with the regressive Mr. & Mrs. '55. Bali died an early death in 1965, while shooting for her own production, Rano, which was based on Rajinder Singh Bedi's Ek Chadar Maili Si (winner of the 1965 Sahitya Akademi Award). Bedi, devastated by the untimely death of Bali, abandoned the project. He wrote later that he had placed the novel on her funeral pyre. A film based on the book was finally made by Sukhwant Dada in 1986, with Hema Malini and Poonam Dhillon.

A scene in the recent dud, The Xpose, is based on an incident associated with the 1972 classic, Pakeezah. As is now folklore, the film wasn't faring well at the turnstiles when Meena Kumari died. Director Kamal Amrohi got ingénue Padma Khanna to give voice to a tape which was released as the late heroine’s 'last recorded message' to drive fans’ sympathy. The film went on to become a huge success, with fans flocking to what was now the tragedy queen's mazaar.

bit.ly/1qgdu5Y | In dawn.com, Amrohi's daughter, Rukhsaar, ostensibly presents her father's side of the story, even as the myth-making surrounding one of India's most tortured public figures continues, it would seem. She recalls, “Choti Ammi was being called to the sets to complete the shot, but she just wouldn’t come out of the make-up room. My father always used to tell her that make-up rooms are the source of all film industry scandals and that she should be very careful. My father’s secretary, Baqar saheb, who always accompanied Meenaji on shootings, also warned her upon which she furiously opened the door, extremely upset. She yelled out for my father to be called to the studio right there and then, and that she refused to be controlled by her husband.”

Image (above): Khanna stood in for the tragedy queen in the film as well, making the more dexterous kathak sequences her own. (below): Amrohi snapped with Meena Kumari and the crew of Pakeezah when she returned to the sets to complete the film after over a decade. Photograph courtesy Rukhsaar Amrohi.

A 1964 British film on the last nine hours of Nathuram Godse's life, Nine Hours to Rama, was based on the novel of the same name, written by Stanley Wolpert, which was outlawed in India, a ban which has never been rescinded. Horst Buchholz, who some may remember as the riddle-wielding German doctor in Life is Beautiful, played Godse. The film is a fictional narrative set in the nine hours leading up to the assassination of Mahatma Gandhi. As Godse prepares for the shooting at Gandhi's residence, flashbacks recall his hostility to Muslims, his adherence to a militant Hindu group that hatches the plot to kill Gandhi, and his involvement with a married woman and a prostitute. Meanwhile, a police officer is attempting to find the killer before it is too late. Via Wikipedia

The film, filmed in parts of India, won the BAFTA Award for Best Cinematography.

Arguably the early lyricists of Hindi cinema bestowed upon its unique genre of 'everything goes' music — that veered from kitchen sink ditties to the most subliminally composed melodies — its soul and its gravitas. They were the agents that ensured the longevity of the music of the golden era (a period widely regarded to have ended in the seventies). Many were remarkable poets. A few created cinema with a lyrical soul. Some were masters of the colloquial idiom, and seemed born to the nation's soil, with the earthiness they brought to their writings. Others were trend-setters and the turns of phrase they invented are still regurgitated in the faux lyrics of today that are shorn away from the social contexts for which the lines were intended. Still others were snappy with the hooks that made for the most timelessly catchy songs. From the formalized meter of gazals for the soul to lilting love ballads to infectiously frivolous cabarets, they did it all.

(Clockwise from top left) Some of the most prolific lyricists of that era were Majrooh Sultanpuri, Sahir Ludhianvi, Shailendra - lyricist, Gulzar, Shakeel Badayuni, Rajinder Krishan, Anand Bakshi, Hasrat Jaipuri, Kaifi Azmi (who possibly wasn't as prolific in terms of quantity, but the quality of his limited oeuvre remains unparalleled). There can, of course, never be an exhaustive list.

In the late 80’s, Muzaffar Ali had embarked on an ambitious venture based on the life of Habba Khatoon, featuring Dimple Kapadia in the title role of Zooni. The film had to be aborted because of growing militancy in the valley. Images (clockwise from top): Kapadia with co-star Vinod Khanna in Kashmir; a portrait of the star by Marcus Leatherdale (unrelated to the film); with Ali in Kashmir, in better times; Ali, in a file photo; Kapadia puts on makeup as she gets ready for a shoot. A Kashmiri crowd, of mostly teenagers, looks on, 1989. The latter image is from a book by Mary McFadden, costume designer for the film, who described it to The New York Times, "This is like a Cecil B. DeMille production, with 1,000 people in two village to dress. There are no records of how people looked, and no miniatures like other places. I took a melange of looks from the high courts of Persia and Suleiman the Magnificent in Constantinople, so they have more of a Persian feeling. The Mogul Empire had not yet influenced Kashmir."

Read more at the SearchKashmir blog: bit.ly/1hwdEqn