Author Archives: masalaaddict

Shatranj (1969)

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Shatranj 1969

Shatranj is proud as punch to be another in a long line of ‘so crazy it almost makes sense’ Indian spy thrillers. S.S. Vasan appears to have a healthy aversion to restraint, and with a top notch cast and Shankar-Jaikishan providing the music, there is no reason to be reticent.

Jai (Rajendra Kumar), also known as The Indian is an international man of mystery. He seems to have full time employment searching the globe for Indians being held captive by foreign governments who shall not be named. He is asked to find Meena (Waheeda Rehman) and her mum (Achala Sachdev) who have decamped to Another Country That May Not Be Named and show no signs of coming home. Amir (Mehmood) and Salma (Helen) are on the side of Good, Susie (Shashikala) is a stylish Bad girl and stunts and schemes abound. Jai travels to Hong Kong and thence by boat to The Mysterious Land With No Name. I do wonder where it could be.

Many hijinks ensue as Jai plays merry havoc with his adversaries General Ko Lum, Zing (or Singh, depending on the subtitle team’s mood and level of nationalist fervour), Chang, Lee Jung, the constantly knitting Madame Chun Qing Lee, et al. If only there were clues as to which country this could be set in. Maddening.

I am lacking the Rajendar Kumar Appreciation Gene but he does OK as Jai, generally playing for laughs rather than milking the drama. Jai has a well provisioned den and a comedy sidekick, proof that he is no novice in the international spy game. There is an over reliance on blue contact lenses in lieu of a proper disguise, but the wig department got to de-mothball a few favourites. Rajendra Kumar cannot, nay should not, dance but he is upbeat and energetic which is something I suppose. He has no chemistry whatever with Waheeda Rehman and she knocks herself out trying to emote enough for both of them in the romantic scenes.

Meena is a good girl and both Jai and her mum think that means she is too sweet and dumb to ever tell her the truth. Apart from the picturesque moping, Waheeda gets some excellent dance numbers and that gives her a chance to show Meena as cheeky and energetic rather than the limp tearstained captive. Waheeda has just the right expression of patient misery for Meena.

And her ‘I’m a hot peacock in sparkly pants with an eye for the ladies’ expression is also memorable.

Among the things I love most about vintage spy thrillers are the lengths to which they go to explain things, and the excellent interior design and fashion. There was either a commitment to ensuring mutual understanding  or total lack of imagination going on when they handed out the codenames. Jai was The Indian, the guy in dark glasses is Mr Dark Glasses and Shashikala in her wig is Miss Golden Hair. The plots and doublecrosses are explained loud and clear, often with a side of comedy mime from Mehmood. There are truly excellent telecommunications devices and an amazing screen of secrecy.  Things light up, go whoop-whoop and beep-beep, and stick on moustaches and rubber masks are a dime a dozen. Is it a truly secret lair if people see you ducking in and out via the revolving secret door? Really?

Helen and Mehmood look like they enjoy working together. Maybe they’re just amazing actors.  Mehmood gets to confuse the spies watching Jai, so the real Jai can sneak over to rescue the ladies. I do like that Mehmood always answers the phone and top secret radios with Alooooooo rather than the traditional Hellohellohello. Amir is both a bumbling fool and a competent gentleman’s gentleman (or beloved lackey). I like Mehmood best when there isn’t too much of him and because there is so much everything else, he is neatly contained.

Helen is Salma, a very charming and fun sidekick burdened with the sad fate of loving Amir (Mehmood). On board a ship between Hong Kong and The Unidentifiable Country, Helen flamencos like a mad thing which is an excellent cover as no one seems inclined to enquire too closely as to her career plans or immediate spy type objectives. Jai tells her to go undercover at his hotel, as (what else) a cabaret dancer. When he arranged to be introduced to her as Shin Raz, a businessman, Salma simply purred “A businessman? How boring!” and sauntered away with a cheeky smile. It’s a great fit for Helen, and she doesn’t have to die to be redeemed as she is already on the side of the angels.

The songs are a sheer delight. Whether used in snippets to set a mood or full on production numbers, the music is a highlight. Even Mehmood gets a share of the musical goodness in one of my favourite dances with Helen, plus a strange mournful dirge about charity that suddenly grows a poppy guitar melody.

And how about that? Yes I know that song is a direct copy of South Pacific but Rogers and Hammerstein missed an opportunity to have the devil bunnies and snake ladies in their musical. Although I’m very OK with missing out on the high pitched screechy ethnic stereotypes. And it even works as part of the narrative, as Meena bemoans her fate as a lonely stranger in a strange land (the one that cannot be identified).

If you only watched the songs you might think this was a film about a man with dozens of children, multiple wives who were all cabaret dancers, and a drunken stalker addicted to bad disguises. So you really need to see the whole thing and appreciate the verve and dedication to the craft of the spy film. Shatranj never fails to put a smile on my face. 4 stars!

Life is Beautiful (2012)

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Life-Is-Beautiful-Poster

I’m not sure whether Life is Beautiful needs to be an hour shorter or about 5 hours longer. Sekhar Kammula’s observational style might play out better as a mini-series than a film as while not a lot really happens, neither do we get much insight into some of the large ensemble of characters. And understanding more about them might have made all the difference when, for want of a better word, things go a bit stupid.

Sreenu, Chinni and Sathya move to a Hyderabad housing development to stay with relatives when their mother (Amala Akkineni) tells them she needs to take a work transfer for a year. It’s clear their aunt just tolerates them, and the rich aunty (Surekha Vani) next door doesn’t want to know the kids. But where Gold Phase has shiny cars and swimming pools, the B Phase colony is rich in characters and goodwill. Money causes all manner of tension, but mostly between those who value work and self-improvement over those take their privilege for granted. In a similar vein, the film contrasts the superficial gated enclosure of Gold Phase with the more organic sense of community in B Phase where sharing is second nature.

The B Phase kids expect to work to make their own way. Chinni is trying to get into a prestigious English school and Sathya (Rashmi Sastry) is preparing to study medicine. Nagaraj helps new neighbour Laxmi (Zara Shah) to find a job so she can continue her engineering studies, and his lack of education and prospects is a recurring theme. Sreenu (Abhijeet Duddala) soon meets Nagaraj (Sudhakar Komakula) the local cool dude and Abhi (Kaushik Darbha), a sweet-natured geek. Cousin Paddhu (Shagun Kaur) is pretty and confident, and keeps Sreenu on his toes. They’re all good hearted and fundamentally optimistic, and friendship comes easily. It’s not hard to like them and I enjoyed watching them grapple with coming of age and growing responsibility.

I really like that the girls are interested in finding the right life partner not just a hot hero, and that their parents are broadly supportive of their right to do so (if not of their choices). I’m not as happy with some of the films tricks to get the girls to realise who they love. There is an odd decision to make Paru (Shriya Saran) have a gimmicky epiphany, as though she was incapable of understanding her own feelings without a billboard sized clue. And I couldn’t really get on board with her ‘I must win Miss India to fulfil my mother’s dying wish’ thing.  I didn’t think Ajay (Vijay Sai) was really a bad guy, but he had a different view of sex and relationships so Laxmi found herself fleeing what she saw as overly determined advances. It seemed she was being punished for straying from Nagaraj and B Phase. Nagaraj has a reverse snobbery about educated people and blames Laxmi for the encounter. And once a boy has decided he likes a girl, that girl should only do what he says or face harsh criticism. Maybe it is just an illustration of how it is easy to be liberal when you’re comfortable, but how people under pressure can revert to type. Maya (Anjala Zaveri) was being harassed by a sleazy caller so the boys actually use their education to catch the culprit. But then their biggest problem seems to be that he is a Gold Phase guy and shouldn’t be allowed to ogle their local hottie while they may do so at their whim. When Maya comes to bail the lads out at the police station, they seem shocked that women can Do Thinking And Other Good Stuff Too. So it’s a mixed bag but the women are distinct and interesting characters and that was pleasing.

The youngsters various relationships absorb most of the film, but they all have families and other issues to deal with. Sreenu and his sisters find out the real reason for their mother’s absence – a reason that made me furious and considering whether to pull the plug on the movie – and have to think hard about what to do with their lives. On the other hand, Abhi and his mum have a really nice relationship. She knows he is a bit weird and nerdy but she loves him for his quirks, and he is super smart and appreciative of her support. Paddhu is caught between her snobby parents expectations and her own heart, plus a dithering Indian Filmi Boy, but she is not a pushover and nor are they villains. Friends help friends, and sometimes friends force friends to confront things they might try to avoid.

Language is both a conduit and barrier. Chinni is denied a place in school because she doesn’t speak English, although she is eloquent when speaking Telugu. Nagaraj tells new neighbour Laxmi that Telangana speakers aren’t formal, they speak from the heart. I couldn’t pick up on the nuances of language in the conversations about Andhra and Telangana speech, although I assume that would resonate with the local audience.

The cast are largely novices and they generally do quite well. Of the young actors, Kaushik and Shagun Kaur were my favourites maybe because they played sunny characters and seemed genuine. I smiled when I saw them and could easily overlook a couple of wobbly acting moments. Amala Akkineni is the largely absent mother, and while I like her performance a lot I had strong reservations about the plot manipulation tied to her character. Shriya Saran is very natural as Paru, the It Girl of Gold Phase, pretty and a princess. And she shows a different side in her scenes with Abhi and the guys where she is at ease, genuine, and friendly.

I don’t like the songs. Especially the English lyrics in this one. It is Eurovision level bad.

My test for whether a song enhances a film is simple. I imagine the sequence, replacing the filmi song with Boston’s More Than A Feeling – a truly naff song which is all about itself. If it works just as well as the movie song I reckon the film could have done without. Obviously if there is excellent dancing, great costumes, or Chiru, I don’t question the validity of the musical interlude.

The song montages are well put together and do help amplify the mood and inner feelings. The locations and set dressing are lovely to look at and the details help flesh out the characters living in the various houses and streets. C Vijay Kumar has collaborated with Sekhar Kammula on several films and their styles mesh very well. He knows how to get the most out of fields, trees and rooftop terraces.

Kammula uses some cheap and cheesy effects which is at odds with his predilection for slice of life stories featuring the unexceptional middle class. Animated hearts when the scruffy boy dog fell for the ritzy lady dog was mildly funny but then there was the magic at the wedding, the magic at Miss India…the (bad and nonsensical) magic. While David Copperfield need not worry about losing his day job, it was nice to see Anish Kuruvilla acting. And Anish, if you don’t like being a character actor you could always, I dunno, direct another film. Just a thought.

I really like Sekhar Kammula’s films, even though I have a few issues with his horrible taste in music and addiction to animated effects, as he can tell simple stories well. While Life Is Beautiful is meandering and low on drama, I do like the characters and the glimpses into their lives. 3 stars!

Life-is-Beautiful-the moral

Mera Saaya (1966)

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Mera Saaya-title

Raj Khosla directs Sunil Dutt and Sadhana in a courtroom procedural with a bit of a twist. Despite the melodramatic conceit at the centre of the plot, this is a sensible and well plotted film that is very satisfying.

Geeta (Sadhana) is lying ill in a very ornate room. The doctor sends a cable for her husband Thakur Rakesh Singh (Sunil Dutt) to come home immediately as the prognosis is poor. The Thakur arrives home – he puts his head down and power walks past the other passengers, urgency in every step. He opens the car door before it even stops. But it is too late and Geeta expires in his arms.

Rakesh mourns, sunk in grief, listening to ‘their song’ – Mera Saaya (My Shadow). Nothing seems to reach him. Until the inspector shows him a photo of a suspected female bandit who is the very image of Geeta.

The woman claims to be Geeta, which of course the Thakur rejects. But she seems to know so much, and looks so much like his recently deceased wife. When she goes on trial, her only defense is that she is Geeta not Raina the bandit, so the judge gives her some leeway to prove her identity. Since her husband is a famous lawyer, she wants him to represent her. But as he is a witness for the prosecution, instead she decides to defend herself and has him called as a witness.

How could she know so much about him? And about Geeta for that matter? And she looks so much like Geeta that he cannot help but feel drawn to her. The words of their shadow song have extra meaning for Rakesh now he is seeing the image of his wife everywhere, in memories, dreams, and in the dock. But who is she? And is she really a killer?

The servant, Sargam (the minxy Kumud Bole), seems to be up to something. And an old lady got arrested so she could pass a note in jail to Raina (and then ate the evidence). There are stories within stories and the evidence seems to point first one way then the other. I often find filmi law a bit unconvincing but the arguments within Mera Saaya are fairly logical. The avuncular judge (Jagdish Sethi) is a genial man. He is interested in a fair hearing for all rather than pushing a predetermined agenda, so he encourages the questions and reminds witnesses of their obligations. The dialogues have the ring of truth and the questions and revelations fall out so that the plot complications are developed and resolved in a sequence that helps reinforce the central question as well as hinting at the solution. There are questions I might have asked in addition to the ones in the script, but not many that I wouldn’t have thought relevant. Plus, you just can’t argue with a Significant Mole.

Sunil Dutt is quietly compelling as Rakesh. He desperately wants a reason to believe his wife still lives, but is a rational man and knows he cremated her. There are flashbacks of Rakesh and Geeta together, their happiness juxtaposed with the dreary days of waking alone. Even in the most confrontational moments in court Rakesh acts with his integrity and tells the truth though it might undermine his own position that the woman is an impostor. Dutt and Sadhana are warm and physically demonstrative in the flashback scenes. Rakesh’s loss and anger at the sheer presumption of this woman taking his wife’s name are born out of an equally passionate grief, and Dutt delivered with restraint. It’s a lovely, intelligent performance.

Sadhana plays her double role with gusto. Geeta is the sweet and dutiful wife, but she has personality and a cheeky streak. Raina is suspected of being in league with the local bandit gang leader. Nothing about her story makes much sense, but when Raina is trying to persuade Rakesh that she is his Geeta her desperation seems genuine. Both characters have enough similarities that Rakesh cannot outright say that Raina is nothing like his wife. But there are a few things that don’t add up and Sadhana’s expressions convey that there might be something dubious going on. Like her co-star, she focusses on delivering a balanced and believable characterisation that helps sustain the mystery.

As befits the story, this is not a movie chock full of big item numbers but the soundtrack has plenty to offer. The songs range from romantic ballads to more boisterous fare.

It was quite handy that Raina had a dark past as a dancer (and a good use for Asha Bhosle’s flirty upbeat vocals). The songs are often used to amplify the characters emotions, like giving Rakesh a glimpse of his happy past before the present crashes back in.

The support cast is generally excellent. I really liked the scenes between the police inspector (Anwar Hussain), the family doctor (Shivraj) and the prosecutor (K.N Singh) as they would sit around in the evenings and talk about the case, what they thought would happen, and how Rakesh was bearing up. They were gossipy, opinionated and yet pragmatic. Bankeji (Dhumal) and Munshiji (Mukri) are the comedy sidekicks – less entertaining although I was mildly taken aback by the casual references to Bankeji’s opium use. Ratnamala is warm and caring but quite ineffectual as the aunt. And while I am trying to avoid spoilers, Prem Chopra has a small role so you can guess who one of the bad guys is.

Partly filmed on location at the Lake Palace, Udaipur, this is a beautiful looking film. Sunil Dutt and Sadhana bring their characters to life and give a solid emotional core to the story.  Plus there is a lovely lush soundtrack by Madan Mohan with the golden trio of Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosle and Mohammad Rafi lending their vocals. 4 ½ stars!