Gehrayee

Posted on December 13, 2020 by Heather Wilson

This 1980 supernatural suspense film follows the fortunes of a family after they sell an ancestral plantation to a soap factory. Aside from the supernatural elements, the story touches on the themes of gender inequality, the issue of caste and even environmentalism with an insightfulness that is surprising in a Bollywood film of the era. Although there are influences from Western films such as The Exorcist, Gehrayee is firmly grounded in Indian culture with references to traditional practices, god-men and sacred rites. Starring a very young Padmini Kolhapure, Anant Nag and Rita Bhaduri, Gehrayee is a rather different Bollywood ‘horror’ film that has plenty of relevance even today.

The film starts with Chennabassapa (Sriram Lagoo) visiting his family plantation in a small village. The plantation is looked after by Basava (Suhas Bhalekar) who lives on the farm with his daughter Chenni (Rita Bhaduri). During his visit, Chennabassapa announces that he has sold the plantation to a soap factory as he needs money to build a new house in Bangalore. He offers Basava a job in the factory, or work in a bank in Bangalore, but Basava is devastated by the announcement and doesn’t take Chennabassapa up on any of his offers. Instead, he bewails the destruction of the forest and what he calls the rape of the land in the name of money.

On his return to Bangalore, Chennabassapa continues to demonstrate his total lack of empathy when retrenching workers from one of his factories. Despite other members of his team pointing out that it’s not about the monetary compensation, Chennabassapa ignores the humanitarian aspects and continues to concentrate only on profit, although he does pay off his workers in line with government regulations. It’s not that he is mean and only focused on profit, but he sees his workers as just another commodity and not worth any further consideration once he has no further use for them. Chennabassapa is a man of science and rationality, convinced of his own superiority and sure that he is always right, but by the end of the film, this is shown to be a bad thing, and not something to be proud of at all!

Shortly after Chennabassapa’s return from his village, his daughter Uma (Padmini Kolhapure) starts to behave very oddly, waking up screaming and speaking about events from Chennabassapa’s past in an odd voice. Unlike Chennabassapa, his wife Saroja (Indrani Mukherjee) is very superstitious and although she is accepting of the decision to take Uma to see a doctor, she also looks for other remedies and more traditional cures to help her daughter. As part of her treatment Uma undergoes shock therapy, which Chennabassapa’s son Nandu (Anant Nag) vehemently argues against. He is convinced that this will have a detrimental effect on his young sister and instead takes her out for rides on his motorcycle and trips to parks to help try and recover her senses. However, this seems to backfire as Uma then shockingly tries to seduce Nandu in front of their parents, and she continues to reveal indiscretions from Chennabassapa’s past.

One of these revelations is that Chennabassapa seduced Basava’s wife who then suicided by jumping into a well. Saroja takes Chennabassapa to task, telling him that like all men his sexual conquest meant nothing to him but was a major event for the woman that resulted in a death. It’s a small part of the plot, but it makes a big impact as, in a few words, Saroja rips apart her husband’s complacency and points out the inherent hypocrisy of their society. I wish the film had gone further into this and perhaps even brought it into the climax, but it’s still an excellent piece of writing and kudos to scriptwriters Vijay Tendulkar, Vikas Desai and Aruna Raje for including such a frank conversation in the film.

Meanwhile, as Uma appears to be getting worse, the family servant Rama (Ramakrishna) tries to help by suggesting a tantric lime placed under Uma’s bed. Apparently this will rot if she is possessed but will otherwise stay fresh. However the next morning the lemon is missing and shortly after Rama is sacked after the family’s food rots in the pan. At the same time, Saroja starts to look for other solutions and tries a succession of god-men who try to exorcise the evil spirit from Uma. One of these (a youthful Amrish Puri) kidnaps Uma to use in a demonic ritual of his own, but luckily Nandu and Rama are able to rescue her in time. As Uma becomes weaker and weaker the family becomes ever more desperate to finds a solution before time runs out. But perhaps the most shocking revelations occur at the climax of the film, when Nandu tries to find out why his family have been targeted and ends up raising Basava’s ghost to try and get to the bottom of Uma’s illness.

While there isn’t ever anything particularly frightening that happens in Gehrayee, some of the scenes of possession and the final climax are definitely quite creepy. Padmini Kolhapure is exceptionally good in her portrayal of a young girl possessed by a demonic spirit, and even if there are no horrific special effects, her expressions and body language perfectly express the two sides to her personality. Anant Nag is also excellent as Nandu, slowly starting to experience his own mental issues and managing to convey both his despair and his internal confusion as his beloved sister becomes a stranger. Sriram Lagoo and Indrani Mukherjee are also excellent and make the most of their conflicting views to keep the story moving along. The conflict between science and superstition is nicely equitable with both having their successes and missteps although in the end the supernatural problem requires a supernatural solution.

The background music from Laxmikant Pyarelal also adds to the suspense with odd noises and other-worldly screeches along with the more usual musical build-up. The contrast between Chennabassapa’s belief in science and medicine compared to his wife’s more spiritual approach to the problem works well and adds to the general uneasiness of the film. Nandu seems torn between the two belief systems which ultimately contributes to his own mental deterioration while Chennabassapa’s attitude also highlights the divide between rich and poor, and the harsh struggle to exist for those who live in small rural villages. Basava’s lament for the plight of the land echoes throughout the film, contrasting the lush parks in the city with the barrenness of the village once the factory has taken over the land. One of Uma’s breakdowns also occurs in a park where she is surrounded by trees, where it seems as if nature is taking its revenge on her family.

Although the story is about demonic possession, ultimately it’s the evils of society that end up as the focus of the film, and therein lies the real horror. Vikas Desai and Aruna Raje keep the outcome uncertain right to the very end and the juxtaposition of events that can be explained with those that cannot bring a feeling of unease that persists throughout. It’s very well done to keep the audience unbalanced and waiting for something awful to happen, right up until the climax. More of a social commentary that just happens to have a supernatural element, Gehrayee is a film ahead of its time and one that deserves a wider audience. 3½ stars.

Phata Poster Nikla Hero

Posted on September 26, 2013 by masalaaddict

Shahid Kapoor is just so likeable. Rajkumar Santoshi should thank his lucky stars he landed a lead actor who could partly overcome some of the major flaws with his patchy action comedy. I didn’t hate the film, but I’m glad I saw it on ‘Tightarse Tuesday’ when tickets are half price and my expectations are that little bit lower.

Vishwas Rao (Shahid) is a young man who has been obsessed with film heroes all his life. His Ma Savitri (Padmini Kolhapure) is a strong woman who raised him alone, working as an auto driver to pay the bills. She has her own reasons for wanting Vishwas to be a good policeman. He wants to be an actor, and when events conspire to send him to Mumbai it seems he might be getting closer to his dream. Dressed as a cop for a photo shoot, he is mistaken for the real thing and his double life starts. A police inspector to his mum and feisty ‘Complaint’ Kajal (Ileana D’Cruz), and a struggling actor to everyone else, Vishwas is headed for comedy complications. Especially once the mob and an expat terrorist get involved. Hijinks ensue.

Shahid is required to play broad range of emotions from juvenile comedy to emotionally distraught mummy’s boy and steely eyed action hero and he does it all with aplomb. The comedy is not to my liking but I respected his effort to make it all work. The action scenes have the flavour of the month South Indian style, right down to the dramatic earth tremors when Vishwas stamps his foot and the extremely aerodynamic rowdies he despatches. Shahid dances his way through these scenes rather than fights, and I think a bit more grunt was warranted to live up to the mass standard. He declaims heroic threats with conviction and does puppy eyes with the best of them. No one feels sorrier for themselves than an Indian film hero, and Shahid oozed self pity as Vishwas contemplated a life of not being a big movie star. And he does get to dance a bit which made me happy. Especially a wildly silly pole dancing prelude to a confrontation with the bad gang. It’s a great role for him to show off his acting and have some fun.

I liked Ileana’s role as Kajal, the social worker and love interest. She has her own thing going on, and initially is only interested in Vishwas as an honest policeman in a force overpopulated by corrupt idiots. But she is drawn by his innate goodness or perhaps the way he fills out his rented uniform.

Their romance develops and is a part of their lives but it isn’t the whole story and is taken for granted rather than overplayed. Ileana is expressive and lively, occasionally veering towards the Genelia Line (beyond which lies Manic Pixie/Escaped Psychiatric Patient territory). She only does one really stupid thing, and even that was because Vishwas didn’t think to tip her off before she spoke.

The real heroine is Vishwas’ mother Savitri. She is the kind of filmi ma who sees trouble and immediately tucks her pallu at her waist and wades in to help. She raised Vishwas on her own after her husband, a corrupt cop, took off. I think Savitri had read the “Nirupa Roy Guide to Filmi Parenting” but applied her learnings selectively. She laid on the emotional blackmail when she thought Vishwas was doing the wrong thing, and wasn’t averse to invoking god and suicide when he baulked. But as she came to understand her son rather than just seeing her idealised boy, she changed her mind. Their relationship was the emotional core of the film, not the fluffy romance. I also liked seeing a single parent family where the mother had dignity and her own income and wasn’t existing on some nebulous mix of charity and whinging.

Where the film lost me was partly the comedy. I did enjoy the film references from an excellent cameo by Salman Khan, Shahid’s impressions of yesteryear heroes, right through to Vishwas paraphrasing the famous “Mere paas Maa hai”. They even worked in a Salman style tearing off of shirt, very appropriate for the Chulbul Pandey obsessed fake policeman! But there are too many comedy uncles and so much slapstick. I started off enjoying a scene where a fat middle aged don and a fat middle aged cop started fighting but were puffed within a few blows. It was funny and believable as these old adversaries tried to face off. But then it went on and on and on, then added another bumbling policeman and there was a kind of bumble-off and that went on for too long and meanwhile there was a timebomb ticking away but hey, let’s go back to the bumble-off. There are ways of building tension and using comedy to defuse it while still maintaining the momentum. Santoshi doesn’t seem to know any of them.

The soundtrack by Pritam is serviceable. None of the songs have made much of an impression on me for the music alone. “Tu Mere Agal Bagal Hai” is more memorable for the excellent colour and movement and Chihuahua inspired choreo, and Dhating Nach for the inexplicable inclusion of Nargis Fakhri as the item girl. The thing I remember most is not the soundtrack so much as the background soundtrack. It is such a busy, noisy film. Every single gesture is underscored with a chord, a whistle, a trill, a whole freaking orchestra duelling in every conversation. Bosco-Caesar handled the choreography and when they could get Shahid on his own, they gave him decent material to work with. But I guess they gave up on the ladies and went for draping them over trees, or Shahid, in preference to actual dance steps.

Overall I felt that Rajkumar Santoshi couldn’t decide what to concentrate on so he just did a bit of everything and thought that was vintage masala style. Good masala still has pace and purpose. If a character is leading a double life, that can be revealed to heighten the drama or add a twist. But in this case a “twist” was revealed before it needed to be, then was reiterated by several supporting characters in conversations with each other. It was clumsy and again, made the pace drag. Also I take issue with villains who have no sound business plan and seem to plot destruction just for the sake of being bad. Also – what kind of doomsday bomb needs a sophisticated detonator but also has a big red “on” button and an equally big blue ‘off’ button? A comedy bio-weapon, that’s what. I didn’t find it all hilarious and I couldn’t take the supposed jeopardy very seriously.

This is an honest, if unsuccessful attempt at a good all round entertainment and I liked some elements a lot. If you’re a Shahid fan, you’ll like his performance regardless. If you have a tolerance for stupid comedy and slapstick, you’ll find much more to love than I did. Worth a watch, but would be just as good on DVD.