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Showing posts with label Waheeda Rehman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Waheeda Rehman. Show all posts

Just a few days before the Oscars, I watched “The Artist”, a movie that was much talked about. I was rather a little skeptical to watch it. However, a conversation with Bollywood enthusiast and a columnist urged me to finally book a ticket at a “not-so-good, not-so-bad” theatre in Pune. I wish I could have got to watch “The Artist” in Regal, Eros, Sterling, theatres where I have enjoyed most English classics.
I had had enough of Apes, Spider-men, Lord of Rings, all sorts of aliens attacking our planet, and many other specially-abled creatures with high visual-sound effects.
“The Artist” was a welcome change for my movie watching experience. Black-and-White and Silent, a courageous thing to do in the times of 3D-VFX etc. A wonderfully crafted movie at the able hands of writer-director Michel Hazanavicius, and effortlessly portrayed on screen by Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo. The movie is an exciting ride with classical imagery and impressive-inventive filmmaking techniques. It is packed with apt adroitness, euphonious background music, impressive acting with right coalescence of exactitude and melodramatic hyperbole.
In its most entireties, “The Artist” is a work of perfection that B/W hue can be experimented with. I watched the movie once again yesterday. This time, I was transported to the golden era of our black & white movies, when our industry was still known as Indian Cinema and not Bollywood. While I am in no power to draw parallels between “The Artist” and our times of B/W cinema, watching “The Artist” for the second time echoed “Pyaasa” and “Kagaz Ke Phool” all the while; the themes differ though, While Michel's creation has a comical-happy ending base, Guru Dutt movies were dark with tragic ending, but both the creations are equally iconic.
When I talk to some people I know about Guru Dutt movies, ridges of cynicism get etched on their forehead. They consider Dutt’s movies to be slow, melodramatic, and archaic much similar to the reputation that silent movies have. I have seen only few silent movies (including our very own "Raja Harishchandra") and found them to be lissome and amusing contrary to the belief about silent movies. Silent movies focused more on acting skills as evidently referenced in Sunset Boulevard, “We didn’t need dialogues, We have faces”. Filmmaking essentially is a means of communication, expressive means of narration using gestures and body language, when talkies was yet to be defined or rather technique to capture sound was to be devised. Cinema-men’s predicament could have been similar; they had ideas but no means (technically) to convey it. And then facial expressions, body movements, use of eyes was the resort to portray emotions on screen, which appealed to everyone universally, a language could still have been a barrier but emotions are same across the world – an upper curve of lips meant smile and downward meant a frown. Chaplin used this means effectively and to the optimum level, which makes him undisputed king of silent movies.
Guru Dutt has such a widespread that he could have effortlessly made silent movies had he been in those times and he could have masterminded an equally picturesque “The Artist” in today’s times.
This 84th Academy Award winning film shot in black-and-white, is a pleasing experimentation of lights and shadows, of which our own Guru Dutt has been a master. Guru Dutt, a perfectionist with extraordinary vision. Like “The Artist” where language is no barrier to understand, Dutt’s movies too appealed universally and are a subject of research studies till date. I have watched “Pyaasa” over 50 times and each time I have found something new in it. For e.g. when I watched “Pyaasa” recently, I noticed when Dutt stands at the doorway with a halo-like effect behind him, and his hands stretched holding the door frame, it almost resembles like Jesus on the cross; wherein to my understanding, it was like Vijay (the poet in “Pyaasa”) had been crucified by the immoral & selfish attitude of the society, and possibly enlightening the people that what you seek is not the ultimate thing at all through his ‘yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaye toh kya hai’.
Like in “The Artist”, the reel hero (Valentin) and the real hero (director Michel Hazanavicius), concentrate on the form of art than the glamour, Guru Dutt too focused on the artistry and not on the success that is made of few awards or bunch of flowers, may be just like the “Kagaz Ke Phool”. Michel could have easily used the latest technology and effects to make a movie. But perhaps he wasn’t just making a movie, he was trying to make a difference. Much like what Guru Dutt tried to do at that time, when in the post-independence era Satyajit Raj was epitomizing poverty, Raj Kapoor was giving life to street characters of Mumbai, Bimal Roy was marching ahead with social issues, Mehboob Khan was glorifying romance-melodrama. And there was this Guru Dutt trying to differ by portraying a different point-of-view, nihilistic story telling. Dutt focused mostly on the hypocrisy of the society, the pseudo-morals they followed, and the exploitation of the underprivileged.
The poise of “The Artist” lies in the fact that though watching a silent, black-and-white movie, you are in no way conditioned to think that it is an old-fashioned ancient movie. Dutt’s movies had a similar virtuosity that effortlessly bestrode the demarcation between socio-contextual cinema and a form of prevalent movie without burdening the audience.
Dutt was gifted with great musical sense and he was a trained dancer too, which made his movies musically pleasing and aesthetic. He understood the depth of acting which made him a successful director who could make his actors emote naturally. Guru Dutt, a master of camera tactics, along with V. K. Murthy (the best cinematographer Indian Cinema has ever had), captured the best frames, they knew well when to take a long shot and when to capture the glitter in the eye (see Waheeda Rehman in Jaane Kya Tuney Kahi in “Pyaasa”).
“The Artist” a great collaborative effort by Michel Hazanavicius (writer-director), Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo (main leads), Ludovic Bource (music), Guillaume Schiffman (cinematographer), went on to sweep the Academy Awards. Well, a kind of magic that Guru Dutt, V K Murthy, Waheeda Rehman, Abrar Alvi, S D Burman, Sahir Ludhiyanvi created 50 years ago and they could have surely done that today as well with striking screenplay, particularized cinematography, and mellifluous dialogues.
His movies went to become cult classics, with “Pyaasa” and “Kagaz Ke Phool” enjoying the status of finest films ever made with a mention in the prestigious Time. Unfortunately, Guru Dutt could not live so long to see his days of glory, and witness the resonating impact his movies have on hearts & minds of many across the world, they have cult following in Germany, and France, from where comes “The Artist”.
- Redam

Have you seen Grace defined in dictionary as elegance and beauty of movement and expression, at a handshakes distance? I have. Back in mid-sixties. When coup d'oeil was a rarity.

The days were of Guide. Hoardings displaying Dev Anand tying ghungroos around Waheeda Rehman’s ankle were shining on the broad turns of wide roads in Mumbai.

Cinema was the only perennial medium of mass entertainment then, barring dramas and seasonal cricket matches. Seasonal!

Dev Anand was darling of the audience, the only Indian face having international features. The most impeccable male face on Indian screen.
Waheeda Rehman, originally a girl from Hyderabad, had more sharp features, more piercing eyes.

The city was charged by the ultimate handsome pair on Indian screen. Raju guide and Rosy ruled over every heart.

Actors didn’t mingle among people, then. To get a pass of movie premier was a bigger achievement than an honour that government would confer on, for the audience. Those who couldn’t get that, thronged in thousands near the theatre to have a single glance.

Watch Kaala Bazaar (1960) written and directed by Vijay Anand and enacted by our pair, and thank full team of Navketan for that experience. Dev Anand selling tickets of Mother India (1957) in black; actual shooting!

I worked in the biggest branch in central Mumbai of one of the leading banks as a locker assistant. The under ground safe deposit vault was famous enough to attract customers like Raj Kapoor and many other tycoons. We were two assistants under a Parsi custodian officer.

Our branch manager (called Agent then) received a phone one morning; Waheeda Rehman is coming in half an hour to open her safe deposit locker. Our Parsi officer told both of us and ordered to stick to our chairs.

I’ll not allow any nonsense. If someone else sits in your chair you have to go upstairs, he warned adding, there won’t be a fourth man here.

The news spread in the full blast air conditioned premises, a rarity that time. In the hope of seeing the charming queen of the Indian screen who exuded nothing but grace at a handshakes distance other assistants constellated in the vault space. Our Parsi officer whisked them off immediately.

Forget handshake. It was a non-happening.

We glued to our chairs till she came with her cousin sister. Our handsome Agent came down to greet her and opened her locker himself. Our mouths wide open in awe.

It happened once again within a couple of months. This time she sat opposite me. We weren’t extra smart to open dialogue with any celebrity, a strict norm of the period. Neither were we allowed to behave so.

Notwithstanding, my joy was double.

This was the lady who did magic on the screen making you forget any kind of sorrow earlier in Mujhe Jeene Do (1963) dancing a mujra on the lilting 'chhum...chumm...' tunes of Jaidev instil haunting song “Raat Bhi Hai Kuchh Bhigi Bhigi”.

After a few years I went to my branch. A young boy of my age then was sitting in my chair.

Waheeda Rehman sat here two decades ago, I said to him.

What! The boy literally jumped from the seat, exclaiming. There was a feeling of disbelief in his eyes that he couldn’t hide; his eyes as expressive as Waheeda Rehman, that moment.

We have marked her initials on the back of the chair she sat, I told him.

He dragged me to the extension of the adjacent vault space. The old chairs lay there. We spotted it out; he cleaned it and sat on it.

Need I tell you further what a spell means?

Or need I go on describing about her intense looks in Pyaasa or Teesri Kasam or any of her unforgettables? No, they are to be experienced.

However, I can’t resist telling this one

V. K. Murthy the renowned cinematographer said once that Waheeda Rehman was the only actress with flawless face where we didn’t have to search at all for perfect angles. Her left cheek as shot in the song sequence of Pyaasa (1957), “Jaane Kya Tune Kahi, Jane Kya Maine Suni” by V. K. Murthy is the ultimate close-up on the screen any time, I think, notwithstanding.

The sharp featured actress who has experienced glamour in the days of Guide, I am telling you about, was honoured with a Padma Shri then (1973), has retained her recluse and humility that has brought her the honour of Padma Bhushan, who now is supporting for the cause of improvement in primary education remaining behind limelight.

I might be staying some 1250 kilometers away from her residence of recluse in Bengaluru but have a feeling that the grey haired lady is sitting just opposite me without her black glasses, exhibiting the aura of modesty.

- Divakar Kambli