Tag: Raj Kapoor Movies

The Clown Prince

By Mahendra Ved

Come December, and last century’s Bollywood nostalgia brims over to this one, connecting with three of its greatest stars. Dilip Kumar (December 11, 1922) and Raj Kapoor, (December 14, 1924) were born near each other’s homes in Peshawar. Dev Anand, born in Shakargarh, passed away on December 3, 2011.

The birth centenaries of Dilip and Dev recently passed, and it is now time to celebrate Kapoor’s. Plus Navketan, Dev’s film production banner, completes 75 years.

The troika’s admirers connect with simpler, if not better, times. Although competing contemporaries, they were also great friends. Generations of cinemagoers they mesmerised love them all but remain divided on who was better, and in which particular film. I recall Raj Kapoor’s pleading with ‘Miss DeSa’ (Lalita Pawar) in Anari (1959) that he is not a thief. Given their distinct acting styles the debate then was: how Dilip or Dev would have delivered the same dialogue.

All three loved music and Dilip sang at private parties. For today’s globalised youth, the two-hour-plus, slow-moving, black & white fare may be boring, but not the Indian Classical-based songs. They were the soul of Bollywood cinema, sometimes surpassing the film and ensuring its success. Music and the ‘Indian-ness’ were the USPs, now lost in the quest to tap the global market.

Compare this with the present-day Indian cinema which is shorter and technologically slick, but an assembly-line product enjoying, unlike in the past, multinational, corporate and bank-driven financing. The majority of them still flop as they used to. The world’s largest producer makes more ‘good’ films, but ‘great’ films?

Hark back to listen to the story “Anand Hi Anand”, about three brothers – Chetan, Dev and Vijay – narrated by their niece, actor-director Sohaila Kapur. She tells you how Chetan’s philosophical ‘filmsight’, Dev’s acting and glamour and Vijay’s prowess as writer-director drove them, together and separately when they disagreed, and pursue new themes and introduce new stars (Kalpana Kartik, Priya Rajvansh, Zeenat Aman, Tina Munim), through hits and flops and financial woes. Few remember today that Chetan’s Neecha Nagar (1946) was the top winner at the first Cannes Film Festival to put Indian cinema on the world’s cinematic map before independence.

Undoubtedly, this month belongs to the centennial of Raj Kapoor, India’s “Greatest Showman”. His family, including current reigning ‘stars’ invited the country’s prime minister to join the celebrations. The PM rightly called Raj the pioneer of “soft diplomacy”, long before that idea took shape, and made the Indian cinema known to the world as both, uniquely Indian and international.

His reference to the change in “Lal Topi Roosi” is politically significant. Surely, it is Hindustani. The Nehru-era colour that immensely influenced Raj’s cinema, has changed. Sadly, the ‘dawn’ that Raj dreamt of in Phir Subah Hogi too, has eluded not only India but much of the world.

As celebrations get underway, word has come from Russia, where Raj was called “Tavarish Brodiya”, of a film festival. Perhaps, China, Central Asia and Central Europe where Awaara retains arthouse interest will follow.

ALSO READ: Awaara – The Tramp And His Times

Time has taken its toll. Raj is quoted as saying in a book by his daughter Ritu: “When I die, bring my body to my studio. I may wake up amid their lights shouting, ‘Action’.” That was not to be. As Bollywood neglected it by shooting indoors and going digital, and engulfed by a fire, R K Studio closed down. Replacing it, the stylish residential complex symbolically retains the studio’s gate and a replica of the iconic emblem – Raj Kapoor holding Nargis with one hand and violin in the other hand – based on a scene from Barsaat (1949). It was RK’s first hit and the first shot in that studio.

So much has already been written about Raj, his films and his filmmaking that repetition becomes inevitable. My only meeting was as a rookie at a film journal. He came unannounced and waited patiently, God knows for how long. I was immersed in work. When I rose, startled and apologetic, he put me at ease with a pat on my shoulder, left a packet for my editor and left.

Before he was conferred the Dadasaheb Phalke award, he was required to clear his tax dues with the government. He sold his films’ telecasting rights to Doordarshan. Too sick to attend, the event had to be postponed four times. He looked drained out that evening. President R. Venkatraman broke protocol, came down from the stage, walked up to him and completed the ceremony. Raj vomited and had to be rushed to the hospital. The man who had made people laugh with Chaplin-like comedy was a sad sight, eyes closed, the garland on him and his jacket soiled.

Youngest of the Troika, he left rather early at 64. Being a producer-director at age 24 with a banner and studio, was audacious. The Anand brothers followed with Navketan a year later.

Like Dev and Dilip, Raj lived in an era when cronyism was not an issue that it is today. Launching relations was a virtue, not a vice. He helped his vast family of Kapoors, Naths and more – probably two scores of them. The fourth generation active today invites the charge of nepotism. But talent is unmistakable. It goes beyond fair skin, great looks and in some cases, blue eyes. The record shows that those lacking this bit have faded out.

In better times, directors under the RK banner included Radhu Karmarkar (Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai-1960), Prakash Arora (Boot Polish-1954) and Amit Maitra and Sombhu Mitra (Jagte Raho – 1956).

Raj was a Team Man. Nargis, his muse, worked for seven years, till she realised that their relationship would get nowhere. The composer duo Shankar-Jaikishan collaborated for 20 years, till Mera Naam Joker’s failure forced Raj to keep up with the changing time and revamp the team, including the lyricist duo Shailendra-Hasrat Jaipuri.

He helped his PR men, Bunny Ruben and Jugal Kishore Dubey by playing the lead in Ashique (1962). For Shailendra, his poetic ‘soul’, he did Teesri Kasam (1966) which suffered delay and financial crunch. An ageing, rotund, blue-eyed Raj was unlike the poor Bihari the theme required. But he was keen on that role. His performance, with Waheeda Rehman as the perfect foil, however, could not save the film. A commercial disaster, it recovered after winning the National Award to become a cult film.

His films of the 1950s had the distinct leftist touch of KA Abbas when the rich were the villains. In the 1960s and thereafter, he changed course as themes also were varied. But he returned to Abbas for Mera Naam Joker. When this semi-autobiographical multi-starrer flopped, he was devastated. Yet, he gathered himself and at 50, conceived Bobby (1973), about teenage love.

He was accused, with justification, of injecting sexism. He defended it. “We are shocked to see nudity, we need to get mature. I have always respected women but don’t understand why I am accused of exploiting them. Fellini’s nude woman is considered Art but when I show a woman’s beauty on screen, then it is called exploitation,” Ritu quoted her father as saying in the book Raj Kapoor Speaks.

Opinions shall always differ on this, even as Indian cinema, uncensored on OTT, becomes increasingly explicit. And to give Raj his due, the present-day lot need to learn that he was much more than being a Chaplin copycat. And appreciate the “jeena yahan, marna yahan” passion. They are timeless and universal.

‘Do You Get Time To Listen To Music?’ Alia Asks PM; His Response Wins Hearts

By LokMarg

The Kapoor family met Prime Minister Narendra Modi on Wednesday in Delhi, for a special meeting related to the upcoming Raj Kapoor 100 Film Festival.

Members of the Kapoor family, including Ranbir Kapoor, Alia Bhatt, Kareena Kapoor Khan, Saif Ali Khan, Karisma Kapoor, Neetu Kapoor, and Riddhima Kapoor Sahni, were present during the interaction. A video shared by the Prime Minister’s Office (PMO) also showed the Kapoor family sharing their experiences after meeting the PM.

During the meeting, a light-hearted conversation between actor Alia Bhatt and PM Modi turned into a delightful moment when the ‘Jigra’ actress asked if the Prime Minister listens to music.

“Kya aap gaane sun paate hain?” (Do you get time to listen to music?), Alia inquired.

PM Modi responded with a simple yet adorable answer, “Main sun pata hoon kyunki mujhe achha lagta hai. Kabhi mauka mil jata hai toh main zaroor sun leta hoon.” (I do listen because I enjoy it. Whenever I get the chance, I listen).

The ‘Jigra’ actress also told PM Narendra Modi that she had recently seen a clip of him in Africa, standing with a soldier, who was singing her song.

“I think aap Africa gaye the. Maine wahan pe bhi ek clip dekha tha kuch jawan ke sath khade the aur vo uss time mera gana gaa rahe the. But maine vo clip dekha tha. Kafi logo ne mujhe bheja tha aur sab log bahut khush ho gaye.” (Recently, I think you went to Africa. I saw a clip where some soldiers were singing my song. Many people sent me that clip, and everyone felt so happy),” said Alia.

Meanwhile, the festival will celebrate the centenary of Raj Kapoor, one of the most iconic figures in Indian cinema, who passed away in 1988. It showcases 10 iconic Raj Kapoor films across 40 cities and 135 cinemas, with a ticket price of Rs 100. The announcement of the film festival, which will include screenings of classics such as Aag, Barsaat, Awaara, Shree 420, and Mera Naam Joker, has sparked excitement among cinema lovers.

Raj Kapoor’s films are renowned for their storytelling, timeless music, and social relevance. His legacy continues to influence generations of filmmakers and audiences. Known as “India’s Greatest Showman,” Raj Kapoor’s career spanned several decades, from his early days as a child actor to his later success as a director and producer. (ANI)

Bobby Remains Fascinating @ Fifty

By Mahendra Ved

Half a century’s hindsight affords an advantage, though unfair, to view an event with warts and all. The film ‘Bobby’ (1973), opens itself to a critical view, without impacting its popularity, the near-cult status it enjoys and the nostalgia of generations.

So, one begins with a little regret and stating without being judgmental, going only by published records and not gossip and rumours that the film world generates. It may or may not have been the first, but its success set the trend for many things that have become the norm today.

It came when socially and even politically relevant Hindi films, Garm Hawa for one, were being made and would experience release and experience issues, besides production costs. With massive publicity, Bobby’s puppy love story came dressed up as “sublime love.”

Politically, India was in rich-versus-poor ferment. Bobby projected no class struggle. It had two well-off families fighting for their respective pride. But socially, it bridged the religious divide by showing a romance between a Hindu boy and a Roman Catholic girl. Both these phenomena have witnessed massive churning and change in the last 50 years.

But as cinema, after what Bobby did to “Romeo and Juliet”, not officially claimed but touted, the country had to wait decades to witness Vishal Bharadwaj’s Indian adaptations of three tragedies by William Shakespeare: Maqbool (2003) from Macbeth, Omkara (2006) from Othello, and Haider (2014) from Hamlet. No reflection on the filmgoers of those times and these. To each generation its own.

As film writer Bhawana Somaaya records: “When the Sixties ended, Hindi films became increasingly entertainment-oriented and so full of mindless masala, that the Seventies saw a whole movement coming up in rebellion—what is now remembered as the Parallel or Art Cinema movement. This was the time when cinema was clearly divided into Art and Commerce and Middle-of-the-the-Road, and each had its followers.”

Bobby’s success set the trend for debut launches, especially of children of established stars. This is a never-ending debate. Although not the first, Raj Kapoor’s success with Rishi Kapoor was followed by Sunil Dutt (Sanjay), Dharmendra (the Deol brothers) and many more. The Kapoor family itself has four generations. The accusation is that they block ‘outsiders’. But let it be said that only the better ones of both types – and lucky ones, given the uncertainties of filmmaking, film marketing and the audience’s reception – have survived. Given India’s traditional father/mother often transfers legacy to son/daughter, neither the star launches nor the debate for and against them is likely to end.

Certainly not the first or the last, Bobby encouraged the purchasing of film awards. Here, one is going by Rishi Kapoor’s memoir, aptly titled “Khullam khulla”. He confessed to having ‘bought’ an award and was ‘ashamed’ about it. That left Amitabh Bachchan sulking because he was hoping to get it for ‘Zanjeer,’ Rishi said.

“I am sure he felt the award was rightfully his for Zanjeer, which was released the same year. I am ashamed to say it, but I actually ‘bought’ that award. I was so naïve. There was this PRO, Taraknath Gandhi, who said to me, ‘Sir, tees hazaar de do, toh aap ko main award dila doonga.’ I am not the manipulative sort but I admit that I gave him the money without thinking,” Rishi Kapoor writes in his memoir.

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Rishi writes of how his ‘serious’ friendship with a girl ended when Stardust magazine wrote of his ‘romance’ with Bobby’s co-star Dimple Kapadia, although she was married to Rajesh Khanna and was even pregnant before Bobby was released.

Since then, the film paparazzi, like those in politics, business and all other spheres of public activity, have successfully emulated the global trend of digging for information, right or otherwise, at times in connivance with those looking for publicity or to settle scores. The social media has pushed that many times over.

Bobby came when India was socially conservative. People who then experienced their adolescence pangs and pleasures have, at its 50th anniversary (September 28), confessed to enjoying the Rishi-Dimple romance on the screen, keeping it a secret from their scandalised elders.  This is universal and timeless – again, to each generation its own. The trend has only been bucked by the fast-spreading culture spawned by not only films but much that is available, at home without going to a cinema theatre, on the OTT (over-the-top) platforms. Significantly, this has bloomed despite the political conservatism currently sweeping India.

Bobby came when Urdu/Hindustani dialogue and lyrics were still the norm in cinema that later evolved as ‘Bollywood’. Not the pioneer again, it set the trend for urbanised Hindi, even the one laced with Konkani spoken by Prem Nath who played a Bombay fisherman. It pushed away the flowery language in which the hero serenaded the heroine.

Bobby’s songs, all of them chart-busters, had a variety ranging from Konkani folk (“Ghey ghey re saheba”), to Punjabi-philosophical folk (“Beshak mandir masjid todo”) to the north Indian (“Jhooth Boley Kauwa Katey”). Incidentally, Raj Kapoor ended his 25-year musical collaboration with Shankar-Jaikishan, switching to another duo, Laxmikant Pyarelal. But while he broke away from Mukesh to have Shailendra Singh sing for Rishi, he had to mend professional fences with Lata Mangeshkar to sing for Dimple.

If the name ‘Bobby’ itself gained wider currency in India, unwittingly, the film was also the forerunner of the present era of brands and branding. A motorbike produced by a family firm related to the Kapoors hugely succeeded when marketed as ‘Bobby’ bike riding on which Raj and Bobby escape their angry parents from Bombay to Goa. Everything from soap to hair clips also sold better with the Bobby tag.  

Bobby’s success brought the RK Studios back to life. It launched Rishi’s romantic-hero career and a second one on retirement bringing out the best in him. And Dimple, although marriage and family kept her away from cinema, staged a comeback that is still thriving.

Rishi confirms that Raj Kapoor, already in huge debt after Mera Naam Joker had flopped, needed a life-saver. He did not have the money for Rajesh Khanna, Sharmila Tagore and Mumtaz who were keen to work with him. This proved a blessing. He found an actor from within the family. What the film would have been with the reigning stars of that era, even if successful, would have been run-of-the-mill. We would not have been introduced to teenage love. That makes the film a landmark, no less, in Indian Cinema.

The writer can be contacted at mahendraved07@gmail.com

Awaara – Of Tramp And His Times

By Mahendra Ved

Exploring Awaara, found a clip of a Turkish film made in 1946. It has a song identical to ‘Awaara hoon…’ with the capped hero walking the street, happily singing to strangers, including pretty women. Words sound similar, the musical score is identical. Only, it could be Ankara or Istanbul, not Bombay. When a song you grew up humming turns out to be a ‘copy’, it hurts a bit, even if momentarily.

Film analyst Gautam Kaul says this was probably the first case of plagiarism by Shankar Jaikishan, the composer duo. Like Raj Kapoor, the film’s producer-director-actor, they badly needed to establish themselves. The film itself was a gamble after two Kapoor flops. To get a ‘star’ like Nargis, Kapoor had to stage a hunger strike outside her home and melt her mother Jaddan Bai’s heart.

The rest is history: the film was a universal hit. The title song has had presidents and prime ministers foot-tapping, if not singing it.

The world has changed a lot since Awaara was released 70 years ago. Whether it is for better or for worse depends upon one’s values, circumstances and the nostalgia quotient. To compare the world with a film may look simplistic, but Awaara is a good landmark and a benchmark.

Although billed as a crime-and-romance film, it was the story of a newly independent, aspiring India with Jawaharlal Nehru guiding the nation’s destiny. Whether he left the glass half-full or half-empty is currently being vehemently debated. Constantly demonized, he is being struck off history books on modern India.

The most striking change is about the message of socialism that the film carries. Khwaja Ahmed Abbas, the left-leaning journalist and filmmaker who co-wrote the sorry with V P Sathe, also wrote the dialogues. He sharpened his message in Shree 420 (1955), in a similar tale with a wider span.

ALSO READ: Sahir – The Poet Of The Underdog

Few Indians talk of socialism, declared as a failed ideology. Much of the world is currently dominated by right-wing demagogues, all ‘nationalists’ (or ultra-nationalists) with narrow vision. Judge Raghunath, played by Prithviraj Kapoor who nursed a wrong ‘usool’ about a criminal begetting only a criminal, would be uncomfortable today. He shows the humility of accepting his ready-to-reform son. Not so today’s little men wielding big power, backed by money, muscle, media and blind supporters.

Raghunath may be forgiven for his single prejudiced judgment that altered his life, when one sees some present-day judges – taking some recent instances – justify marital rape, acquit molesters of minors, condone state-sponsored violence, help the executive suppress public dissent and much else.

Judges no longer live in palatial mansions like Raghunath. Not, at least, in Mumbai. Abbas sharpened his pen and vision of the city in Shree 420 and his own Shehar Aur Sapna, to make this Urb Prima in Indis, independent India’s first global city. It never sleeps. People flock there to fulfil their dreams, also to the dream factory called Bollywood.

Awaara’s romance blended the western with traditional India. Not much change here. By and large, men are weak and confused (when not stalking their hapless ‘prey’), but women are bold and caring. Patriachy persists, but from president to peon, women, given half-a-chance, have been pushing their way.

The gender-bender in this film is Rita, played by Nargis. In a well-etched role, reflecting a strong character, she carries the film on her shoulders. She dares to love her childhood friend despite the huge gulf in education and lifestyle. She weans bim away from the world of crime. But when told that law doesn’t listen to matters of heart, she says with quiet defiance: my heart, too, doesn’t listen to law.

In an evocative sequence at the beach, Raj goes close to where Rita is changing. A gentleman would never do this, she chides him. He admits he is not one. She calls him junglee (savage) thrice. He chases and slaps her thrice and twists her arm, even tries to strangulate her. But she surrenders, falls at his feet, willing to be slapped more. He caresses her and the two embrace passionately. ‘Libbers’ today would revolt against her ‘surrender’ to a ‘junglee’. Yet she would be a torch-bearer in any campaign to support inter-caste and inter-faith marriages, being opposed by ‘khaps’ or in the name of “love jihad”, by bigots.

Awaara’s theme appealed to the universal sentiment of social upliftment and justice. Its advocacy of the reformative theory of punishment puts some of the onus on the society for creating a criminal. This makes it a landmark film.

It’s a film about relationship. Raj fights to win legitimacy. He explodes when the society ill-treats him. He takes his insecurities out on Rita, and that makes their romance uncomfortably bruised and traumatic. Beautifully portrayed, it shows that real human relationships are messy, unpleasant – even painful. The message is: everyone, from a wealthy judge in his mansion or a tramp on the street, needs a bit of love.

Raj Kapoor emulated Charles Chaplin as he introduced him to Hindi cinema, perfected it in Shree 420 and continued till Mera Naam Joker (1970). Chaplin must have had more avatars in India than anywhere else because Indians have, long before Chaplin, digested Hollywood. That enterprise continues well into this century, even as Indians offer Hollywood some run for the money around half he world.

Certainly not the first since Indian cinema had caught attention outside even before independence, Awaara was a rage in many countries across the world. It was called The Vagavond, The Tramp, Tavarish Brodigya in Russia, and many other names. It crashed the Iron Curtain, gently pushing the de-Salinisation process in the erstwhile Soviet Union. Those were early days of Hindi-Rusi Bhai Bhai. It shaped India’s cultural outreach under Nehru, making cinema integral to India’s ‘soft’ diplomacy today, something few countries possess.

ALSO READ: India’s Soft Power Drives Hard Bargains

The egalitarian ideals Awaara championed resonated in the newly-independent nations and those emerging from miseries of the World War II. Unsurprisingly, it was wildly popular in Russia, China and across the Eastern Europe, but also in Turkey and the Arab world, more familiar than the West with India’s song-and-dance.

It became a family movie in many countries. Dr Amar Kumar Sinha hosted me to the Hungarian version, Csavargo, way back in 1973. At the interval, we Indians were surrounded and asked about the film and those behind it. Sinha says the movie doesn’t run in European theatres any more. But “Awaara Hoon” can be heard on YouTube in multiple versions in Russian, in Uzbekistan, China, Japan – you name it. That takes away some of the plagiarism sting.

Well-written and well-composed songs quicken the momentum in this slow-paced movie. Ten songs were the standard input those days. Some are forgettable, but others, mainly those penned by Shailendra, make for rich experience.

Awaara gave Indian cinema its first dream sequence, uniquely, with three songs, performed amidst a sea of twirling clouds or mist. Choreographed by Zohra Segal, the songs depicted heaven-to-hell-and back episodes. It ends on an optimistic note, a metaphor of life.

Awaara, his third film as a director, established Kapoor. He was only 27 then, but at 22, Nargis was his ‘senior’. Rita’s character went well with her modern-girl image. She dons a one-piece swim suit, considered daring seven decades ago. It also underscored the success of a fine team job by some of the brilliant minds and hands, including cameraman Radhu Karmakar and art director M R Achrekar.

Dina Iordanova, professor at the University of St Andrews, and other experts cite several texts and anecdotal evidence to state in a special issue of the journal ‘South Asian Popular Cinema’ that Awaara may be a candidate for the title of the “most popular film of all times”.

The writer can be reached at mahendraved07@gmail.com