C.I.D (1956)

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The film opens with a chain of instructions relayed via numerous phone calls, culminating in a death threat by Sher Singh (a young and dashing Mehmood). His intended victim is Shrivastav, a newspaper man who refuses to publish fake news. Timely. He calls Inspector Shekhar (Dev Anand) for help. Shekhar arrives minutes later with his taciturn assistant Ram Singh (Prabhu Dayal), only to find Mr Shrivastav dying of stab wounds. Petty thief Master (Johny Walker) was hiding under a desk outside the office when the murder took place and saw Sher Singh’s face. It’s all so economical and pacey – the opening throws you right into a world of shadowy identities and questionable motives.

Shekhar is set up as an insightful but not snobbish man in just a few lines exchanged with the regulars (including Tun Tun) at his office. He is very much a man of action but also has a sharp intellect and bursts of intuition. I was just thinking in one scene that it was all a bit coincidental when Shekhar pointed out the same thing. Dev Anand plays him as both world weary and alert, the detective who is rarely surprised but still finds people fascinating. Shekhar’s behaviour, even when he is wallowing in heroic self-pity, is quite rational. And he is prepared to trust people to do the right thing.

Shekhar commandeers a car belonging to Rekha (Shakila) to pursue the mysterious man seen near the newspaper office. She seems most put out and not at all interested in helping the police perform their duty, which is odd considering we later find out she is a policeman’s daughter. She throws the keys out the window, forcing him to stop. Of course they scandalously fall asleep in a sudden downpour that prevents key retrieval and wake up in time for a pastoral idyll lead by Minoo Mumtaz.Her father, played by K.N. Singh is Shekhar’s boss, which makes things interesting when Shekhar finds himself on the run.

While Shekhar is distracted, Rekha finds the keys and drives off leaving him there. She is a scowly pouty girl, burdened with those unflattering compulsory pigtails. I found Shakila the weakest link in the cast. Her facial expressions can be used for a rather lethal drinking game called “Throes of Passion, or Gastrointestinal Discomfort?”

Shekhar seems not to mind Rekha’s shenanigans as much as he could, and uses street performers Sheela Vaz and Shyam Kapoor to facilitate his stalking. Hmmm.

Shekhar uses his connections to close in on the killer, but the mastermind behind this scheme has no intention of being caught. There is a troubling connection with Rekha’s family as the girl who spikes Shekhar’s drink and has him dumped by the road is her childhood friend Kamini (Waheeda Rehman).

Rekha is just a placeholder heroine but Kamini is genuinely interesting. An orphan, she has been installed in a grand house by Dharamdas. Her motives are sometimes unclear, almost as though she is learning her own boundaries as things unravel. Shekhar tells her she is a strategist but not a killer and she seems to agree. Waheeda is of course gorgeous, and her performance is layered and interesting. Kamini has to distract Dharamdas (Bir Sakuja) in one scene and the brittle sparkle of her smile and the slightly forced dance all speak to what is at stake.

Johnny Walker and Kum Kum as his girlfriend offer a comedy track and social commentary on the honest criminals trying to get by. They interact with Mumbai in a way that is more direct and hands on than the others, and they know the ins and outs of the cops and robbers games.

Mehmood was most effective when he had no lines. He looked the part but sounds a little too hammy. It could be drug withdrawals I suppose. Anyway the boss takes no chances and has Sher Singh bumped off, and frames Shekhar for both murders.

In the lead up to the finale, Shekhar escapes through a tunnel but the boss catches a glimpse of the door closing and follows. They play cat and mouse, with Kamini helping Shekhar find all the fake doors, secret switches and endless tunnels. All this appeared to still leave them at the top of the driveway so that was some design genius creating the illusion of space. The tension in this film comes from the chase, the evasion, the holding your breath ’til danger passes, and it really does hold up. It’s pretty clear who did what very early on and it is just a matter of whether Shekhar can join the dots in time, or who else may become collateral damage.

Produced by Guru Dutt and directed by Raj Khosla, C.I.D is an entertaining and engaging thriller. Pitting a suave Dev Anand against a shadowy criminal mastermind, the story is told with tempo and light and shade. Add in the lush O.P Nayyar songs, a young and minxy Waheeda Rehman dancing to choreography by Zohra Sehgal, Johnny Walker actually being funny, and there is so much to love. There are a few points of judicial process that seem unlikely, but not enough to detract from the overall enjoyment of an accomplished yarn. 4 stars!

 

 

Shatranj (1969)

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!

Bhoot Bungla (1965)

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Adhering to the Scooby Doo school of horror, Bhoot Bungla is fun from go to whoa with great music, dodgy disguises, lukewarm romance, dancing skeletons and a dash of suspense. This was Mehmood’s debut as a director and he pulled out every trick in the book, and I suspect a few favours from the filmi fraternity, to make it a hugely entertaining romp.

Bhoot-Bungla-Moni Chatterjee

50 years ago Kundanlal was murdered and his wife and son disappeared from the family home. In the present day his three nephews live in the mansion. Ramlal (Moni Chatterjee) gets a telegram that his daughter Rekha (Tanuja) is coming home from Abroad. He prepares to collect her from the airport but brother Shyamlal (Nazir Husain) makes an excuse that he has to go to the office. Ramlal’s car explodes, leaving Rekha an orphan and heiress. Not long after, poor unhinged Ramu (Nana Palsikar) is found dead in a murder staged to look like suicide.

Shyamlal and Rekha move into a stylish apartment in town but can they escape the curse? Or is it a more corporeal threat? Worried that she is sad and afraid, Uncle calls Rekha’s friends to come and get her out of the house. They enter her in a singing competition at The Beach Club, where her rival is none other than Mohan Kumar (Mehmood) and his Youth Club, dedicated to Doing Good. The hi-tech Applause Meter gives Mohan the cup, but the audience is the real winner! Oh yes, hijinks ensue.

Tanuja is excellent as Rekha, sassy and sweet by turns. I really liked that the first thing Rekha did in the new flat was unpack her books while the servants dealt with the clothes and other belongings. She is smart but also raised to be obedient and good so when suspicion falls close to home, she tends to go with the dutiful response rather than a rational one. Tanuja matches Mehmood’s energy, throwing herself into the silliness with gusto. She also delivers a convincing portrayal of Rekha as someone weighed down by fear and losing confidence in their own judgement. I can think of no other explanation for her fleeing the apartment in a frothy nighty and huge fur coat (in Mumbai? Really?). The romance is a minor part of the story, and there are no sparks between Tanuja and Mehmood, but they do have nice rapport. Since the relationship is partly due to Mohan’s Youth Club commitment to helping people, it doesn’t matter that they seem more like friends than being crazy in love. There’s enough crazy to make up for it!

Mehmood’s grand entrance is riding a motorbike up Marine Drive and howling like a police siren. At first I actually thought it was just exceptionally dodgy sound effects and had grave fears for the rest of the film! There can be too much Mehmood, but in this case he gets it just about right and Mohan is wacky but always likeable and genuine. Maybe he was too busy worrying about tricky camera angles (of which there are many) to be The Star and settled for a happy camaraderie with the ensemble. Of course, restrained by Mehmood standards still includes doing drag, slapstick, encouraging children to gogo dance their fears away, and instigating a dance off with gyrating skeletons. But I knew Mohan truly loved Rekha when he shaved his moustache off to frock up, committing himself to having to draw it back on with pencil for at least one subsequent scene. That is commitment,

The music is fabulous and the songs are a real highlight. Mohan sees a blind beggar whose violin has been broken by drunk boys – so he does a West Side Story style dance number exhorting society to wake up and care. Pyar Karta Ja moves the hearts of all youth club boys and girls who were otherwise occupied in construction work. It’s not quite the barn raising scene in Witness but pleasing nonetheless, and Witness didn’t have Manna Dey. Everyone, including the special effects team, saved their best for the Bhoot Bungla song. Watch it now, and enjoy all manner of silliness with Mehmood and RD Burman dancing with skeletons and showing the ghosts who’s boss.

The support cast has lots of excellent performers although I am struggling to put names to all the faces despite the detailed opening credits. I will take a punt that Jerry played Jerry who was an imitation Jerry Lewis. I was particularly fond of Rekha’s exuberant girlfriends (including Lata Sinha). RD Burman is a hoot as Stocky, the cowardly foodie who accompanies Mohan on his ghost busting mission. It’s always good to know that someone has afternoon tea requirements under control. The creepy family retainers – Lakiya and the mysterious and toothy gardener – are perfectly cast with their spooky appearances adding to the sense of unease. Just the thought of Lakiya’s ruffles is enough to terrify me.

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Apart from the fluffy entertainment value, the story is reasonably strong. Mehmood balances the various elements well and kept the suspense and laughs coming. There are some twists and red herrings, and things move along at a fair pace. I found the dedication to Guru Dutt quite touching – Mehmood seems to have been a thinker when it came to his own films.

See this for the excellent songs, the generally well balanced suspense and comedy, and the skeleton dance-off. Sure there are some things that go bump in the plot, and a couple of loopholes big enough to drive a Youth Club bus through, but nothing that detracted from the good natured fun. 4 stars!

Did someone say Twist?

Cannot. Resist. Urge. To. Dance!

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