East Coast break.

Hiya blog, what's kicking? Not much for me, just had a brilliant two-week long holiday in East Coast US, mostly trapped in Brooklyn with my (non-filmi) friend thanks to Frankenstorm Sandy. But a little hurricane can't keep a good girl down, and I had an absolute blast even though there was rain and storm!

Sadly this did mean that going the cinema was just not an option, so I didn't get to do my usual "going to see a Bollywood film in a foreign country" routine, nor did I get to meet up with some blogger friends I would've loved to meet up with (FG, next time!). But I did manage to get up to Boston to stay with Filmi Geek aka Carla, and over at her place, I got to watch some delightful Hindi oldies.

Chor Sipahee (1979)

This fast-paced masala romp we watched in the confines of Memsaab's filmi lair, and the plot is precisely what it says on the box. Shashi Kapoor is our sipahee, a badass cop who wears leather jackets well and goes to jail and comes out even more badass. Vinod Khanna plays the chor, a rogue who's bad because that's what poor people do when they can't earn enough, or something. It's really too bad he's just not the best thief, outwitted by pretty much everybody (but mostly Shabana Azmi's character) and then some, and disowned by his sister (Parveen Babi, who wears amazing things so she is destined to be with Shashi in this film). 

But it's fine that Vinod sucks as a bad guy, because Shashi is here to fix him with the power of buddypyaari (seriously, these frenemies just have it going on). And Shashi will go to jail for him! And grow a jail beard! And then wear women's sunglasses, because that's what villains do, dammit. Wait, you're not following this? Doesn't it all seem really logical?

What a film. I will certainly need to purchase it, and rewatch it, and rewatch it, and then build a shrine to encase it in.

Half-Ticket (1962)

While at Carla's, I felt like it behooved me to watch one of her favourites, especially as the film seemed so close to a mutual favourite of ours, Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi. Plot-wise, I feel like Chalti is a bit tighter than Half-Ticket, but they are equally delightful and packed with amazing songs to boot. The film really is all Kishore all the time - he plays a layabout goof who escapes his father's plans to marry him off, and pretends to be a child to get a half-ticket on the train, where he meets both a crook (young Pran, always priceless) and a beauty (Madhubala). What follows is a series of goofy goofball scenes where Kishore gets to show his comic prowess and sing some incredible songs. His jodi with Madhubala is as cute as ever, and Pran's villain character also manages to tickle the chuckle bone.

The film does go off the rails every now and then, but it never ceases to entertain, so this is another future must-purchase for me. 

Muqaddar ka Sikander (1978)

A long over-due viewing of a classic! Amitabh Bachchan carries this highly melodramatic masala about an orphan boy named Sikander, whose love for his childhood friend Kamna (Rakhee) carries into adulthood, and makes him blind to the affection shown to him by Zohrabai (Rekha), a prostitute he visits to drink away his sorrows. Vinod Khanna plays the lawyer Vishal, who becomes an important friend to Sikander, one he's willing to sacrifice almost anything for..

Muqaddar ka Sikander plays a weird twist on its viewer, where the extreme melodrama seems so extreme it's a little chuckle-worthy, rather than believable at first. But slowly, you get sucked in, and by the end, it really tugs at your heartstrings. I'd attribute a fair amount of that to Amitabh's splendid performance - this is by far one of his best ones. It didn't quite make it among my favourites, mostly because I feel like I prefer my masala goofy so that it doesn't stomp on your already-heavy heart, but I could definitely tell why it was such a classic.

The soundtrack is also worth mentioning. There were a couple of tracks I already adored (Pyaar Zindagi Hai and the female version of O Saathi Re) and the rest were awesome as well.

Jewel Thief (1967)

Life got in the way of me finishing this film, but I began it and liked it, then was quite confused by the plot, and eventually had to stop it about 50 minutes before the end due to lack of time. I did enjoy it, but I definitely need a rewatch from the beginning, at a time when I can focus all my attention on it.

I'm merely mentioning it here so I remember to seek it out and finish watching..

Mr & Mrs '55 - should have come with a warning..

Apparently tons of people were perfectly aware that Mr & Mrs '55, the Guru Dutt-directed romantic comedy that is neither very romantic nor all that comedic, had a plot more or less composed of aggravating anti-feminist/misogynist ideology drivel. Well, I sadly wasn't, so I actually bought the DVD and was fully anticipating a good time.

The plot should have been a warning sign, but I knew nothing of it, going in. Madhubala plays Anita, a rich girl who will inherit her father's riches after marriage. Her aunt, Sitadevi, is the film's unfortunate "Straw Feminist" (this link is to a great video that explains the term and the use of the stereotype in Hollywood films), who is partly responsible for the new divorce law, which makes divorcing easier. She hatches a plan to get Anita married to poor cartoonist Preetam (Guru Dutt), but he only agrees to this plan because he's met and fallen in love with Anita.

There's a way to be not all that feminist a film, but still not annoying. Where this story falls down is the fact that not only is Sitadevi a gross, exaggerated stereotype of a manhating feminist (and it is annoyingly underlined that she has "learned" feminism from her Western counterparts, because naturally there are no Indian feminists whatsoever!), she's also the sole villain. While in Hollywood, the "Straw Feminist" may be used to discredit feminism to say "everybody's already equal", in here her ridiculous, self-serving ideology is labelled feminist to prop up conservative ideology of women's natural place being in the home, doing chores and looking after children. Unlike most real life feminists, who advocate women having the choice to marry and work, or marry and work inside the home, or not marry at all, for that matter, Sitadevi naturally wants to dictate this choice herself.


I'll be honest: this film nearly ruined Guru Dutt for me.

The sad thing, this is not a terrible film. It would have been fine without the blatant ideology - they could have portrayed Sitadevi as a terrible woman (still not a feminist thing!) but that her feminism and her awful behaviour are not necessarily directly related. But because the film wants to push the idea that feminists are evil beasts who describe being a housewife as slavery and are against women making any choices that aren't "for the cause", it casts a real shadow over everything I enjoyed about the film - the Madhubala-Guru Dutt chemistry, the nicely frequent OP Nayar songs, the Johnny Walker comedy bits. There are numerous cute moments that could make up a good film, if I could ignore the ideological dialogues that pop up every now and then.

There was one particular terrible bit of dialogue, where Preetam's sister-in-law tells Anita, after she asks about the woman's husband and whether he beats her, "You sometimes get rocks in the rice, but you don't stop eating the rice." While I fully recognise that a lot may have been lost in the translation of this particular bit of dialogue, this bit was just downright offensive to me.

I should also point out, there are a great number of highly credible critiques of Western mainstream feminism from the Indian perspective - but this film and the ideas it presents are not some of them. There have been discussions of how the feminism of English women propped up colonialist and orientalist ideas that further subjugated Indian women, as well as how more modern white women "spoke for" women in poorer countries, rather than allowing them a voice of their own. (Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak and Chandra Talpade Mohanty are just some of the people presenting the critiques I'm talking about.) But that's my Gender Studies minor talking, so let's get back to the film..


Johnny Walker and this actress, Yasmeen, who bears a vague resemblance to Rani Mukherji were probably my favourite thing when it comes down to it. They also were in my favourite song from the film, "Jaane kahan mera jigar gaya ji".

If you're at all like me in this department, just skip this film. As you can see from the screencaps, my SKY label DVD was also terrible in terms of picture quality, so that's definitely, definitely not worth the purchase, either.

A dog named Remo; stories of rewatching.

I have these friends who, bless their hearts, are very easy to talk into watching Indian movies. Maybe it's that using my DVD collection is cheaper than going out to rent a movie (and might include arguments over which film to go for), maybe it's that watching something is better than watching nothing, or maybe, just maybe, the wonderous world of Indian films is little-by-little creeping into their hearts.

So I've made them sit through the likes of DDLJ, Sholay, Dil Chahta Hai, Hum Tum with varying results, but I guess it's a triumph in itself that they are always keen to see more. They still confuse actors with one another, and have a decidedly "Western" perspective on some things (getting hung up on continuity errors is not something a seasoned Hindi film fan does!), but at least they're willing to see more, and I'm more than willing to provide more.

In the past two weeks, we've watched three films together and all of them are well worth talking about.


First up it was Anniyan, which I intuitively selected to introduce the crazy world of Tamil mainstream films to my friends. And say what you say about the shortcomings of this epic masala film, directed by S. Shankar, it simply never fails to deliver and even though it is completely and utterly over-the-top in every way, the core story, the characters and especially Vikram's acting seemed to make this nutty movie approachable to even complete beginners. They were aww'ing at Ambi, the by-the-book lawyer, and his total failure to capture the heart of his beloved, Nandini.


I once called Anniyan the most entertaining movie ever, and I stand by that to this day. The action scenes, the comedy, the social message - even when it all becomes a rather illogical mess, it doesn't get boring. My friends did start to get a little bored as the end was approaching - when the song "Andakaka" arrived, they wondered out loud about Shankar's style of loud visuals. "Why?" was a question on one of my friends' lips. I shrugged. "Because it looks good." I suppose it's the sort of perspective they still haven't quite embraced.

The real winner of the evening, however, was Remo, one of the characters Vikram plays in the movie, a rocking super-model, so hip and modern and ultra-cool it hurts. I like to think of him as mocking the "Western" life-style worship, though at the same time a very loving parody. Whatever he is, he's absolutely hilarious and after the initial shock my friends couldn't help but love him. So over-the-top and ridiculous and yet somehow, absolutely amazing.

This picture says it all.

After the movie, my friends sent me a message that the next male pet they get, will be named Remo. Whether they ever keep this promise or not, I'm more than glad I introduced them to this film.

A bit later my friend saw the gorgeous Mughal-e-Azam poster in my room and since I wanted to rewatch the film, I suggested we watch it together. It's been a while since I saw this classic, even though the DVD is the first Hindi one I ever bought. I believe I'd actually only seen it once up until that point. I warned my friend it would be a lengthy historical love story (set in the Mughal era for those three of you who weren't aware), not quite as cheery as the films I usually show her, but we ended up watching it regardless.

Sometimes the flaws of DVD's can truly ruin a film experience. I never realized the subtitles on my DVD lag. Severely. And so as if it wasn't already difficult enough to keep up with the going-on's in a film largely centered around people arguing in hyper-poetic language, we had the lacking subtitles to deal with. It's probably because of this I never warmed up to the characters on this watch - I felt very distant from them as did my friend, and our concentration was slipping dangerously. The movie bore on, scene by scene (arguing in highly poetic Urdu), song by song (singing in highly poetic Urdu about how miserable everything is), I found myself asking my friend whether we should skip some scenes. She insisted we not fast-forward a single minute, and I relented, as boring and futile as the watching seemed like.

Don't get me wrong. I love the visuals of this film. I adore the songs. When we finally see the sets in colour, their glory takes my breath away. The battle scenes are good for their time. But it was simply hopeless to get into the story when you had to wait 20 seconds for the subtitles to appear. It got to the point where, if I understood a sentence or even a bit of a sentence, I would translate out loud for my friend as we waited for the correct subtitles to come on.

As it stands, we got to the end and I walked home, thinking about the MeA poster on my wall. I do like the film, still. Just wish I had a better copy of it so I could sit down with it and see if I'd get into it with subs that do not lag. The Mystery of Dilip Kumar for me personally is still unsolved; in other words, I've not yet understood why he is considered such an enormous acting talent of his age. But perhaps one day I shall find out..

Realizing I better keep the films masala from now on, I brought over my Amar Akbar Anthony DVD the next time I visited my friends. The story of three brothers separating and re-uniting in harmony of three faiths and three professions seemed like a nice way to reflect the friendship of the three of us, and even though the wonderous masala recipe from the 1970's didn't quite fully win over my friends (the variety of characters and plot twists left them a bit confused at times!), at the end of the film, they enjoyed it a lot!

This is Pran, or as we called him during our viewing, "Daddy'O".

Amitabh Bachchan as Anthony was another star of the evening. His signature song was both mind-boggling and amazing according to my friends and especially during the penultimate scenes, they found him a riot.

Thankfully my own favourite, Vinod Khanna as Amar, did not go unnoticed, however. My friend's verdict? "Cute."

Out of the three couples, my personal favourite is Rishi-Neetu, without a doubt, but as his storyline was the least featured in the movie, my friends might've not caught onto their cuteness that much.

I'm glad to say the fight scenes got the 'oooh's they deserved (70's masala action = insanely awesome fight moves!) and since we all began humming the last song as the movie wrapped up, I'd consider the evening a success. Masala might be a little tough on the beginners, but they handled it well.

Superficial charms; hottest men and women of Indian films.

Inspired by an entry posted by Nicki, and by some thoughts that occurred to me during my umpteenth rewatch of Hum Tum last night, here are some stunningly good-looking people that grace our screens. Your mileage may vary, this is just a list according to my tastes.

Saif Ali Khan, here as not-a-good-man in Ek Hasina Thi, the film he looks best in and acts his best in, at least until we got Omkara.

Abhishek Bachchan, doing the guh-worthy eye-brow thing in Jhoom Barabar Jhoom. Mon amour, Ricki Thukral.

Vikram making clothes most reminiscient of tinfoil look good in Arul.

Vinod Khanna being his magnificient self in Sachaa Jhutha.

Surya looking smouldering alongside Laila in Nandhaa.
Random, slightly odd but stunning handsome pic of Akshay Kumar all the same.

R. Madhavan, dreamy as ever, in Guru.

And now onto the ladies..


Hema Malini then.

Hema Malini now.

North-Indian girl in South-Indian movies; Jyothika.

Not the best of actresses (not even close), but I can't resist her smile. Katrina Kaif from Singh is Kinng here.

The wonderful Kajol.

Always a darling, Juhi Chawla in Hum Hai Rahi Pyaar Ke.

Regal Zeenat Aman in Dharam-Veer.

Smile of the century: Rani Mukherjee in Thoda Pyaar Thoda Magic.

Doll-esque pose of Preity Zinta in a recent magazine.

Classic beauty: Madhubala in Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi.

Was that more gals than guys? I guess it just goes to show - Indian women are gorgeous! Indian men, well, only nearly as..

Miscellanous thoughts on the history of Bollywood, Part 1.

I won't go into detail on what inspired this post; let's just say I've been learning about these things as of late.

• At times it really bugs me that the early history of Indian film is so hard to access - I think the earliest films available are from 1940's, maybe a few select earlier films available on DVD or as archived material (you can only access by going to India). Compare this to what you can get your hands on from the silent era of European film, or Hollywood, or Scandinavian film. It's a huge, rich context we're quite simply missing out on, and can only really read about in books and by seeing still photographs of movies.
• Addendum: why this bugs me especially is because of the difference of Hindi film's history compared to other cinemas. The influences are different. The style is different. The context is obviously unique. Regarding the influences, I've read and heard Parsi theater, other folk theater traditions and Sanskrit aesthetics (the entire 'rasa' theory) cited as heavy influence. In a way, not being able to discuss early cinema with the voice of experience (or rather, just having seen some of these damn movies!) feels like I'm missing a very vital link. You know, I don't know if I would be interested in watching 30+ Sulochana movies or a dozen mythological silent movies, but I'd at least like to have the opportunity to do so. Basically, to see the continuity clearer from past cinema to modern cinema, would be nice, even if just to justify some of the things that make Bollywood as it is: when somebody disgards the films as overly dramatic, I could simply say, "Look, this is the tradition over there. This is the preference of the audience, throughout the ages. Why do you assume they'd be making movies according to your tastes?"
• I feel awfully embarrassed because as much as I love Guru Dutt, I've seen such a rare few of his films. The big ones, sure, and I have Mr & Mrs 55 in the mail, arriving next week and will get to it eventually, but in comparison to my other favourites on the oldie front, it's just embarrassing. Then again, to be honest, I do find it easier to watch a nice 70's film than a 50's/60's masterpiece. There is something wrong with me like that. (By the way, if you recommend me Guru Dutt films - please do - I'd prefer ones with him as an actor, not the director.)
  
• Don't you love the romanticized tragic on-screen/off-screen jodi's of the 50's? I'm talking Raj Kapoor-Nargis, Madhubala-Dilip Kumar and of course, Guru Dutt-Waheeda Rehman. I think out of the three, only Madhubala-Dilip is confirmed - they did date, her family didn't approve, there was a court hassle over a movie, and then they broke up, and the romanticized version of the story goes, she never stopped loving him to the event of her untimely death. Raj Kapoor and Guru Dutt were married men, which makes the alleged romances with their most popular on-screen partners slightly less romantic but tragic all the same (especially Guru and Waheeda - I'm really surprised they weren't in speaking terms while filming Sahib Bibi aur Ghulam because that was my first film with the two and I adored their chemistry to pieces).
  
• Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi - a movie I ought to see more like, and a movie you ought to see, period.
  
  
• Does it ever bother anybody else that as a fan, you sometimes latch onto historically inconsequential (or maybe just-not-all-that-important) stars and films? I know I'll read and learn about 70's Hindi films, I probably won't hear a word about Vinod Khanna, and am probably lucky to hear about Dharmendra or Hema Malini unless the subject is Sholay (which the subject very well should be!). On the other hand, in the modern times, I feel like my favourites, especially in terms of movies, are the ones most people will remember in 10 years' time. It's odd.
  

More coming in part 2, whenever I get around to writing it up. :)

SWSFDFASRICEBDJFT - or random youtube goodness.

The title above is not ridiculous keymash, but rather me trying to accurately describe the following list. The acronym is, as goes, "Songs with a single female dancer focus that are so rewatchable I could easily buy the DVD just for them". And even with that monster of a statement, I'm not sure it accurately portrays the list are some films on it are so good, you would not be buying the DVD just for one dance number and some dance numbers, on the other hand, are not amazing but simply very beloved personal favourites for whatever reason.

But hey, forget about the title and just enjoy these.

Aaja Naachle - from Aaja Naachle



I watched this film with low expectations and while it's certainly not fantastic cinema and has an annoying tendency to side-step conviniently any actual points the story could be saying about art, national identity, progress, or anything for that matter, it's an entertaining enough film. It's okay to be fluffy but the movie is fluffy and full of plotholes to the point of ..absolute pointlessness, and that's kind of sad. Regardless, there is Madhuri Dixit, who while not a favourite of mine, is still an awesome dancer and a gorgeous woman. I will eventually get the DVD for the songs, and some of the cutesy side-characters, and this title song number is just pure Bollywood fanservice: Madhuri, dancing in glorious, unrealistically stunning sets. Plus the song is fantastically catchy.

Sharafat chod di maine - from Sharafat



As I said in my write-up of the movie, it's not a very memorable film aside from Hema Malini's glorious dancing. In this number, the lyrics talk about "leaving behind decency" and the mood is full of angst, as can be witnessed on Dharmendra's pained expression. It tugs at my heart while being a great dance number. I just love it, and have rewatched all songs on the movie so many times.


Pyaar kiya to darna kya - from Mughal-e-Azam



The great thing about being a newbie is bumping into movies and watching them completely without an idea of their history. Mughal-e-Azam was one such film for me. My first oldie, among my first Bollywood DVD purchases, and all I knew was what it said on the cover - 'an eternal classic', apparently. To this day I've never rewatched this epic all the way through, but the song numbers I do keep returning to. Madhubala might never be best known as a great dancer, but certainly "Pyaar kiya to darna kya" will remain a classic number. The opulent sets, the defiant meaning of the lyrics, Madhubala's perfect expressions, the anger of Prithviraj Kapoor's face and the love on Dilip Kumar's. Sigh.

Jhooth naina bole - from Lekin



I know I'm a completely biased Hema Malini fangirl but this is the best dance number I think she's ever done. The Gulzar film is from early 90's, and her role is very limited, mostly composed of this dance number but what a performance it is. Everything about her movements, expressions and presence speaks of maturity and talent as a trained dancer. Sometimes I wish she'd gotten more opportunities to perform like this on-screen. I can watch this a million times and the only thing I get sick of is Lata Mangeshkar's voice. Hema-ji, though? Incredible.

Namak - from Omkara



As I've said before, this Vishal Bharadwaj film is pretty much all around excellent. For whatever reason, "Namak ishk ka" is my favourite picturization in the movie. Bipasha Basu is not an incredible dancer, but something about the earthy tones of the shots and the melodies of the song just make it so fun to rewatch. It's an item number, sure, but it has just the right kind of naughtiness - suggestive but not sleazily so.

Marainthirunthu paarkum - from Thillana Mohambal



A Bharatanatyam dance performed by one of the most legendary dancers to grace the Tamil film screens, Padmini, with another legend, Sivaji Ganesan hiding in the audience. I'm not an expert on BN so I wouldn't know exactly how good Padmini is at her art, but she certainly seems famous enough for it. This movie really introduced me to the classical music and dance traditions of Tamil Nadu, and for that, this number is really special. It might be a slightly filmified version of the classical dance style but nevertheless, it's lovely to watch.