Madcap. Mystic. Magician.

Writing a biography of any eminent personality is an enormous task. To do so without turning it into hagiography is a task that defeats most who attempt the task. When faced with a 554-page volume that purports to be ‘The Ultimate Biography’, one is left to wonder at the audacity of any biographer to claim that theirs is, in fact, the ‘ultimate’ anything. However, authors Anirudha Bhattacharjee and Parthiv Dhar, explain why they chose that title, and the explanation is disarming.

Disclaimer: This book was sent to me by Anirudha Bhattacharjee, a long-time online friend, two years ago. For various reasons, I didn’t read the book until very recently. That too, after Anirudha messaged me to find out if I’d even read it!

Meiyazhagan (2024)

Directed by: C Prem Kumar
Music: Govind Vasantha
Lyrics: Uma Devi, Karthik Netha
Starring: Arvind Swamy, Karthi,
Devadarshini, Sri Divya,
Swati Konde, Rajkiran,
Jayaprakash, Sriranjini,
Indumathy Manikandan

I haven’t really been watching films or reading many books lately; hence, the surfeit of song posts. But recently, my husband, flipping through the movies on Netflix, chanced upon Meiyazhagan (loosely translated to ‘Truly Handsome’ [Edited]). I had heard positive reports of the film, so,curled up on the couch next to him, I decided to stay and watch.

My Favourites: Flower Songs

Kerala, where I am at present, is sweltering in unseasonal heat with temperatures soaring up to 38^o C with a real feel of 40^oC. While, my hometown in Northeast US is shivering at -3^oC with a real feel of  -9^oC; wind chill not counting. Mother Nature has a crazy sense of humour. 

My Favourites: Romantic Duets

Once I got on to the romantic bandwagon, I decided to plunge headlong into romance during the month of February. I have already posted two lists of romantic songs, both solos and duets, featuring Shammi Kapoor who, for a generation, personified romance on screen. But he was scarcely the only one. The history of Hindi films is replete with love stories; but, even if the films were not particularly focused on love, romance was still an integral part of their narratives. So, indeed, was music. And thank heavens for that!

Shammi Kapoor - Romantic Duets

Romance and Shammi Kapoor go hand in hand. Once he broke through to the big league with Tumsa Nahin Dekha, Shammi didn’t look back. It helped that the era was ripe for change; the privations of the decade following independence were a thing of the past. The nation-building exercise that a fledgling country just free of the yoke of its colonial masters demanded was replaced by the dreams and ambitions of a youthful demographic that wanted a little less reality and a little more romance and escapism. Enter a new breed of filmmakers who were excited about the changing landscape of the motion picture industry.

It was the moment Shammi had been waiting for, for many years. Grabbing the opportunity, he burst onto the scene with unbridled enthusiasm. He positioned himself as the youthful rebel, whose trademark bonhomie and loose-limbed grace became his calling card. He romanced his heroines through hills and valleys, fought villains who would try to claim his beloveds and/or his inheritance, and became the aspirational hero for the new generation.

Shammi Kapoor - Romantic Moods

When listing songs for my post on Rafi’s love songs, I found that my initial list had so many songs picturised on Shammi Kapoor. I had to diligently weed them out to get songs featuring other heroes on the list. But they were too good to not post, so I decided to myself that I would eventually write a post on Shammi Kapoor in various romantic moods. Friend and long-time blog reader, Madhulika of Dustedoff, gave me the impetus by enthusiastically seconding the idea.

Years ago, I’d posted a list of Dev Anand’s romantic moods. Though he did not play a pure romantic hero in most of his films, Dev could – and did – charm many a heroine on screen. Shammi Kapoor, however, was the quintessential romantic hero. He chased, wooed, and charmed his heroines across the hills and valleys of different hill stations. And in his prime, there was an animal grace and magnetism about the man that had women swooning over him, both onscreen and off.

My Favourites: Radio Songs

Source: Hindustan Times

Does anyone listen to the radio any more? Or am I dating myself when I talk of radios and transistors and cassette recorders to a generation growing up on MP3 and MP4 (and various other acronyms that make no sense to me at all)? I have lovely memories of growing up to songs on the radio. It was always on when my father was home – either for the various Hindi film music song programmes on Vividh Bharati and Radio Ceylon or for the news. [I wrote about the radio and its connection to my father here.]

It was these programmes – Manoranjan, Aap ki Farmaaish (Fauji bhaaiyon ke liye), Bhoole Bisre Geet and Jayamala (with Sunday afternoons bringing Vishesh Jayamala) and their ilk – that introduced me to Hindi film music, and to Ameen Sayani, the late host of the long-running (nearly 51 years – with a hiatus in between – and over 2200 programmes) Binaca Geetmala. These programmes also introduced me to ‘Jhumri Thalaiyaa’ – a place whose residents seemed obsessed with Hindi film songs. At least, it appeared so. Every song I listened to seemed to have been requested by a resident of that place. (For those interested, Jhumri Thalaiyya is in present-day Jharkhand.)  

Perhaps it’s nostalgia, but I’ve been thinking of writing a post on ‘radio songs’ for some time now. Typically, the context for such songs in films is that either the hero or the heroine is a singer. If it is a joyous song, it is usually to introduce the character. When the lovers separate, as lovers do in Hindi cinema, the radio becomes the means for them to get back together. Since the person listening to the song cannot see the singer on a radio, such radio songs were almost always ‘studio’ songs – the picturisation would inevitably show the singer in the studio and the listener with a radio prominently displayed. It always intrigued me how the separated lover puts the radio on at just the right moment and manages to get a clear reception with no static whatsoever.

Muqaddar ka Sikandar (1978)

Directed by: Prakash Mehra
Music: Kalyanji-Anandji
Lyrics: Anjaan, Prakash Mehra
Starring: Amitabh Bachchan, Rekha,
Vinod Khanna, Raakhee,
Amjad Khan, Ram Sethi,
Nirupa Roy, Sulochana,
Ranjeet, Kader Khan,
Dr Shreeram Lagoo, Yusuf Khan,
Master Mayur

Some time ago, I wrote a post on Hindi films that I wanted to revise. Every revision I tried for Muqaddar ka Sikandar ended with everyone but Zohra Bai dying. Blog reader Subodh was appalled that I believed in mass slaughter. In my defence, I did watch the film again. This time, with my partner-in-crime, Shalini. Read on to find out if we changed our opinions. 

Warning: Do expect long comments.

Asha Sings for OP Nayyar

A colleague recently quipped that communication and content are a co-creative and collaborative process. Nowhere does this hold truer than in the making of a film – the symbiotic relationship between the various departments – script, screenplay, direction, acting, cinematography, music, dance, editing (amongst others) – play a role not only in what happens between ‘Action’ and ‘Cut’, but precede and succeed these. This holds true of music as well – music composer Khayyam generously said (when praised for his score in a film) that if it weren’t for the lyricists who added the magic of their words to give voice to his compositions; the musicians who brought those compositions to life, the arrangers who arranged the music, and the singers who voiced the whole, no one would know his music. His humility does him credit, but in stating this objective truth, the veteran composer also emphasised the foundation of any collaborative creation – the necessity of the collaborators to be on the same wavelength.

North by Northwest (1959)

Directed by: Alfred Hitchcock
Written by: Ernest Lehman
Music: Bernard Herrmann
Starring: Cary Grant, Eva Mary Saint,
James Mason, Martin Landau,
Jessie Royce Landis, Leo G Carroll

“I’ve always wanted to do a chase sequence across the faces of Mount Rushmore,” said Alfred Hitchcock in 1957. That, and his (and screen writer Ernest Lehman’s) aversion to developing the story they had actually committed to (The Wreck of Mary Deare), resulted in the brilliant fluke known to the world as North by Northwest.  

A Hitchcock scholar once categorised the film as “a comic thriller about mistaken identity, political depravity, sexual blackmail and ubiquitous role-playing.” In a later interview with director Peter Bogdanovich in 1963, Hitchcock explained that the film was a fantasy. “The whole film is epitomised in the title,” he noted. “There’s no such thing as north-by-northwest on the compass.” 

Maybe so, but today, on Cary Grant's – one of my favourite actors – 121st birthday, a look at one of his iconic films, a collaboration with a man who once declared that "Knowing Cary is the greatest association I've had  with any film actor. Cary is the only actor I ever loved in my whole life."