I have no idea what the plot of this movie is—seriously no idea—but I know that I love it. Even if with subtitles it became a maudlin, sexist melodrama (which I doubt) I would still love it. Why? Well for one thing it is extremely shiny. Premnath has a lair made completely out of mirrors, and not in a pretty Mughal-e-Azam kind of way but in a spectacularly gaudy disco kind of way. The songs by OP Nayyar are delightful and the cinematography (VN Reddy) is gorgeous. The cast is a veritable Who’s Who of character actors. And a still-dashing Sunil Dutt makes a dacoit I can really root for, although he does seem a little old for plump young Rekha. The story is liberally sprinkled with dacoit-drama masala ingredients: greedy moneylenders, long-lost daughters, flashbacks, dozens of people named Singh, pretty pretty Marwari horses, and real ruffians lurking beneath a veneer of respectability and draped with scantily-clad gori extras. I felt totally sated by the end.
Did I mention the mirrors? Lots and lots of mirrors.
Fans of Mumtaz now have another compelling reason to live!
I am so pleased to announce the arrival of a new Tom Daniel dvd compilation (be sure to read the attached pdf file for links to his previous dvds if you haven’t gotten hold of them yet). This is Part 1 of a three part series chronicling Mumtaz’s career, and contains 23 songs from her early years up through 1966. She truly deserves this kind of tribute to the formidable talent, charm and hard work that made her justifiably famous.
This is quite possibly the finest example of drama overload in Biswajeet’s entire career—maybe even in all of Hindi cinema history! I can’t stop watching it. I shared it last week on the MemsaabStory Facebook page, but since it is still making me laugh every single day and laughter makes the world go round, I thought I’d share it here too.
Fate has conspired to push snake movies at me from all angles this month; so be it. Until Doodh Ka Karz came along this was my topmost favorite of the genre and it is at least still tied for first. I love it for the ridiculous special effects, the Seventies style, the star-crammed cast and the shape-shifting, vengeful ichchadhari nagin Reena Roy. These things more than make up for the heavy-handed (at times) preaching on a wide number of subjects: marriage, wifely duty, religion, sacrifice, revenge, redemption. I was only planning to mine this for screenshots for my “Nahiin! Face Gallery” (coming soon), but I couldn’t stop watching once I began. There are lots of Nahiin! Face moments, but there are some surprisingly sensitive ones too. All in all it’s an odd mixture of things, almost none of them boring.
Thwarted in my previous snake-movie viewing attempt by Sky Entertainment’s poor quality control, I moved on to this long-overdue-for-watching one and was much happier in any case. Not only is heroine Neelam not smacked in the face every other minute (although her father does want to kill her at one point, but he is Amrish Puri so it’s to be expected); but there are a lot more snakes and Aruna Irani (or her representative) lactates onscreen. She also (a la Smita Patil before her) sets out to pump her newborn son full of hatred, albeit somewhat less successfully, possibly because Jackie Shroff doesn’t have to also learn disco. Or maybe because Jackie has more snake backup than Mithun so doesn’t need to be as angry. I don’t know. I just know that I would much rather watch snakes massing in military formation and launching themselves like missiles than watch men pounding each other to a bloody pulp (although there is some of that too).
Even if all the Anguished Magic Snakes, Oompa Loompa Tantrics, Been music, Aamir Khans and Indian Geoffrey Rushes in the world were in this film:
I couldn’t be sad that the Sky DVD stopped working at the 1:20:49 mark.
I was tired of watching Juhi Chawla getting hit in the face by the men who “loved” her.
She had also been married off and widowed at the age of three, and is sent to her sasurals‘ house when she falls for Aamir because, you know, an Indian woman only loves/marries once. Even in 1990.
Anybody who comes here regularly will not be surprised that I could not resist a film called Big Pigeon. And I’m so glad I didn’t—it is oodles of fun, with a talented ensemble cast, nice RD Burman songs, and lots of laughs. And *wow* I love Rehana Sultan. What a shame she got pigeon-holed (yes pun intended, my bad) and her career fizzled. Deven Verma wrote, produced, directed and starred in this comic crime caper; the internet appears to believe that Amitabh Bachchan and Helen star in it, but Helen has just one cabaret dance and Amitabh is nowhere to be seen (nor is he credited, as imdb claims). It’s possible that he had an uncredited guest appearance but if so, it’s gone.
I didn’t miss him: Ashok Kumar, Leela Mishra, Rehana Sultan, Deven Verma, Pinchoo Kapoor and a little butterball toddler billed as “Golu (A Wonder Child)” kept me enthralled and in stitches.
I fret a lot about the welfare of animals and children I see onscreen (not just in Indian movies either), and it turns out that I should! But I will say that between the two articles from vintage Stardust magazines that I’ve attached here, the animals sound a lot better off than poor child star Kumari (Baby) Naaz. I’ve often wondered why such a good actress—who grew up into a truly beautiful woman—didn’t become a heroine, and she pretty much explains why in this interview (I love the writer’s purple prose: I doubt very much that Naaz even once “screamed”). You can also read more about her here.
The second article is a fascinating look “behind the scenes” into the world of the men and women who train our Motis and Badals and Rajas. Enjoy!
This is a very silly adaptation of “Crocodile Dundee” which I love frankly because Sanjay Dutt is so freaking sexy in it. I’m even glad there are no subtitles, because it would be sad to have text cluttering up the screen and possibly partially obscuring him. There is other fun stuff too, like a wooden killer crocodile a la Khoon Bhari Maang and a “Pagal Gorilla” (actual dialogue not made up by me), but the main reason I watch this is Sanju. If he doesn’t do it for you, there’s Juhi Chawla, who would definitely be on any list of superb comediennes that I might make. In a role which could have been grating she is just adorable and hilarious, despite being flogged by the frilly excesses of Nineties ishtyle and a lot of mud.
MemsaabStory 