With a title screen (and title) like this, you’d expect a happy movie, right? Wrong! It’s incredibly sad. I sobbed for a good hour. But it’s also really good. The story takes place against the backdrop of India’s fight for freedom from British rule (although no attempt to recreate the period through costumes or anything has been made), and is a love triangle between two best friends and the girl they both love. What saves it from descending into jingoism and melodrama are the marvelous performances by Shashi Kapoor, Rajesh Khanna, Mumtaz and Vinod Khanna; Raj Khosla’s deft direction; and the lovely songs by Laxmikant Pyarelal with beautiful, meaningful lyrics by Anand Bakshi.
This is a pretty long post, because there’s a lot to say about this film. It isn’t perfect, but does so much just right that the imperfections don’t matter.
The title of this post really should be “My nine favorite rain songs and one rain scene” but—too long! The rains have a special place in Hindi cinema, as many before me have pointed out. I have always loved rain and thunderstorms, and I am determined to someday run around some trees in a (not transparent) sari as it pours down rain. Until that day dawns, though, I’ll settle for watching the cinematic rain fall.
So here are my nine favorite rain songs and one favorite rain scene! I have selected them based on how much I like the song, the picturization and its place in the film (I’m only using songs from films I’ve seen, not so much because I’m a purist but to make my task easier). And of course in my own selfish interests I can’t wait to find out about others that I haven’t encountered yet (hint, hint). Enjoy!
Robin Hood meets Hindi cinema! How can that possibly be a bad thing? I thoroughly enjoyed this film. It stars a young and handsome Premnath and the beautiful Madhubala (in fact they began a real-life romance during the filming of this, according to her biographer), and are very nicely supported by Purnima (in my opinion just as lovely as Madhubala) and Agha (so young! and cute! and funny too).
I sometimes have very vivid and detailed but thoroughly crazy dreams; I wake up and think: “What on earth?” and worry for a minute that there’s something wrong with me, then go about my day and forget about it. Now I know that Manmohan Desai had those kinds of dreams too, except that in the case of at least one of them, he woke up and thought: “That should be a movie!” And so he made Mard.
It’s a trip through a demented sort of Disneyland, populated with characters from about a hundred different movie genres and policed by animals who are smarter than all the people around them combined. If you surrender yourself to the journey (and the film demands that you do) there’s a kind of lyricism and rhythm about it that’s hypnotic: it’s impossible to look away, but there’s an emotional detachment about it as well. You are just a spectator—so no worries!—but kya baat hai.
Shammi, Shammi, Shammi…*shaking head in dismay*…why? why? There is a genre in Hindi cinema which I have privately dubbed the Red Mist Movie, because watching one causes a red mist of fury to rise in front of my eyes (which fortunately obscures the film itself). These films are pretty much the only Hindi movies that I simply can’t sit through. Once I reach the Red Mist point, I’m done. I am sad to report—indeed, it pains me a lot to say it—Shammi has been in one such film, and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, this is it.
with this blog. Go there now. Be prepared to spend an entire day there (at least). It is chock full of beautiful Hindi film songs, from all eras, with links to YouTube and—best of all—the lyrics transliterated for us non-Hindi script readers, sometimes (early posts) accompanied by English translated lyrics also. It’s truly a labor of love by Atul and a must-see for anyone who enjoys filmi songs (and who reading this doesn’t?).
Wah! wah! Atul! And he’s promised that he will start doing the English translations again too. So let’s make it worth his while!
Edited to add: In my enthusiasm I forgot to mention that he also has wide-ranging knowledge on singers, music directors, lyricists, film history and all kinds of other interesting tid-bits that he includes in his posts. Okay, I’m done. Go there now.
I hope all of you living in Bombay (or with loved ones there) are safe and sound. Please know that you are in my thoughts as are all the victims and those still in danger. Bombay is one of my favorite cities on earth; and I know that your resilience and courage will hold you in good stead again today and in the days to come.
Produced by Homi Wadia, and written by JBH Wadia, this film surprised me. It lacks their usual emphasis on stunts and crazy special effects, which I always enjoy; but is a solidly entertaining filmi noir more along the lines of Howrah Bridge and C.I.D. (although not nearly as competently done) than of Aladdin. Dwarka Khosla (any relation to Raj?) directed, and the plot is interesting (in spite of the many holes), with good performances and—best of all—spectacular music.
Feroz Khan stars in one of his first roles; as Todd pointed out in a comment elsewhere, he seems to have started off his film career as a poor man’s Shammi Kapoor. If that was his brief from the filmmakers, he certainly lived up to it during the songs at least. I will say that if Shammi and, say, Madhubala or Asha P. had starred, it would have probably taken the film to a whole other level; but as it is Feroz and Chitra deliver consistently if not spectactularly.
I have tripped and fallen over a theme song of my very own! There are two reasons, no three many reasons why I cannot resist it:
The lyrics “Lo Memsaab Salaam, Salaam Memsaab Salaam”
Rafi sings it, and I love him; plus, he yodels!*
It’s from Reporter Raju which was made in 1962 (so it’s *almost* as old as I am)
The film is a Wadia Brothers production, and I love the Wadias
Even though Shammi isn’t in it, Feroz Khan does his level best to channel Shammi; and I can close my eyes and pretend it’s Shammi, since it is a very Shammi-like song (Shammi Shammi Shammi!)
It’s lively and fabulous (is there an Indian instrument that sounds like an accordion, or is it an actual accordion? either way, too much fun)
It’s short, like my attention span!
Here it is: “O Chale Ho Kahan Kaho” from Reporter Raju, sung by Rafi, music by S.S. Mohinder:
*Edited to add: My very reliable and informed friend Sunny has informed me that Kishore actually does the yodeling here for Rafi, which makes no material difference to it remaining my theme song, but good to know!
*Edited again to add more: Now more people are on board the it’s-Rafi-yodeling boat, see comments if you are interested! It’s still my theme song, no matter who yodels, even if it’s a Swiss farmer who was imported just for the task.
MemsaabStory 