Admittedly, all I know about this great work of art comes to me through Bean: The Movie. And I thought to myself: what is the big deal with Whistler’s Mom, when there is a bigger, badder, and cooler Mom out there? That is right. It is Vijay Ki Maa. (And no, not Ravi Ki Maa. What nonsense. Chhee Thoo).
This has also given me an idea for an action-comic starring Nirupa Roy. Anyone out there want to see it? Give me a shout out and I’ll put it all together.
Ooof.
Yesterday was Pran saab’s 92nd birthday – and this post is just a way for me to talk about how much I admire the man. He shares the dubious distinction of being my favourite villain (with Ranjeet coming a close second); the sheer elegance and elan with which he pulls off his roles is reason enough to watch his films. Be it the irrepressible heartbreaker in Brahmachari, the loyal friend in Zanjeer, the defeated grandfather in Parichay or the thwarted villain in Tum Haseen Main Jawaan – it is impossible for me to pick a favourite role. I picked up Bunny Ruben’s book, “…and Pran”, a while ago, to read more about him, but apart from giving some interesting trivia, I found that the book was largely disappointing. Pran saab has such a versatile and multifaceted personality – apparently he even owns the Bombay Dynamos Football Club! – that I expected more pizzazz, I guess.
Perhaps my favourite Pran scene is from Guddi, where Dharmendra talks to Pran (both playing themselves), in an effort to show Jaya’s Guddi that there is a clear distinction between actors and the roles they portray. It is a lovely, lovely film – definitely in my top three favourite films of all time – and I recommend that anyone reading this goes and watches it.
Till then, I leave you with this image, which renders all your arguments invalid:
I’m not sure how this works, so let me try anyhow.
In two of my previous columns, I have looked at male-male bonding, and the (lack of) female-friends depicted in Bollywood films. But what of the co-ed films? (Yes, I realise that co-ed stands for co-educational and implies a school set-up. But try coming up with a short word that means male-and-female-together. It’s not easy).
If you do nothing else this Friday, you should go watch this clip from Maine Pyaar Kiya – Mohnish Behl’s lascivious looks, the attempted rape that looks like an athletics competition, the pillow filled with feathers, the frankly incredible throwback to the Eighties are all worthy of a watch in their own right. But the crowning glory is this dialogue: “Ek ladka aur ek ladki kabhi dost nahin hote. Yeh toh ek parda hai. Kapkapaati raaton mein dhadakte dilon ki bhadakti hui aag ko bujhaane ka”. Roughly translated, it means “a boy and a girl can’t be just friends. It’s just an excuse, for extinguishing the flames of a beating heart on a cold night” (clearly, a literal translation doesn’t quite work). But this seems to be the message that our films, those great signallers of popular culture, keep trying to shove down our throats.
Oh Mohnish, you can play the good doctor on TV all you like, you’ll always be the scallywag rapist to me!
I am beleaguered by many male friends; never have I felt the compelling urge to confess my love to them. I’m pretty sure that they haven’t, either. Friendship is a pretty gender-neutral phenomenon, and I’m sure most people don’t really believe that you have to have corresponding chromosomes in order to have shared interests. However, if you look at any movie being thrown at us, the concept of a platonic friendship between the opposite sexes seems to be completely alien. Jaane Tu…Ya Jaane Na and Wake Up Sid are both examples of young, smart, urban films that start out by depicting normal relationships, the kind you or I would be familiar with, before falling into the trap of making a jodi out of the two kabootars. To paraphrase one of my all time favourite songs, yaar ko yaar hi rehne do unko rishte ka ilzaam na do. (I’m not even going to try and translate this one).
One film that does speak about this is the Madhuri Dixit-Salman Khan-Shah Rukh Khan starrer, Hum Tumhaare Hain Sanam. Radha (Madhuri) and Suraj (Salman) are good friends, and Gopal (Shah Rukh Khan) is the jealous, possessive husband (in case you couldn’t figure that bit out, the poster would tip you off). Gopal spends the film angsting about the friends’ innocent, platonic friendship. Finally, the director had to introduce a blind fiancé and an attempted suicide to make the husband see sense; thankfully, he permits the two to remain friends. Madhuri also starred in another film that briefly talks about the issue of friendship – Dil Toh Paagal Hai. Here, Nisha (Karishma Kapoor) and Rahul (Shah Rukh Khan) are best friends, but there is unrequited love on her side. Unfortunately or fortunately, the two are intended to be nothing more than friends, and in a rare, mature scene in Bollywood, the two talk about their feelings and move on from the initial discomfort caused by the revelation of her love, and continue to be pals till the end of the film. But these films are few and far between. (Aside: I have to mention the Harry Potter franchise, if for nothing else, the fact that Harry and Hermione are shown to have a complicated power equation, and continue to be fast friends till the end of the series. The movies tried to destroy this magic a bit by introducing a random dance and some frankly unnecessary writhing, but thankfully were unable to completely ruin the innocence of the plot).
Not that this is a desi phenomenon completely. This summer’s rom-coms (Friends with Benefits and No Strings Attached) hastened to assure us that though it looked as if our protagonists were just good friends, it was only because they were too dim to realise their true feelings for each other. The film can be off-beat (Juno; the under-appreciated Zack and Miri Make a Porno) or mainstream (When Harry Met Sally; the rather forgettable and appallingly titled Made of Honor) but the point remains the same: the girl and the guy have to get together.
This attitude reminds me of my mother’s disapproval in my high school years; she’d spend hours whining about how “only boys call you up, not girls, you don’t understand what intentions these boys have.” It took her years to grudgingly accept that when I hug a male friend, it’s not in fact an admission of unrequited love, it’s just a harmless hug. To her credit, she has grown up; our filmmakers definitely have not.
(This article first appeared on www.mylaw.net)
Heehee. Someone came across my blog after searching for “Vinod Khanna exam film”. My friend, I don’t know who you are, but please do get in touch, because clearly you are my soul mate.
Resplendent Ranjeet
It’s been an unfortunately long time since I posted. What better way to re-enter than this? (Original here)
Khoon Bhari Maang 