The Masters: MT Vasudevan Nair

15.04.1933-25.12.2024

I began ‘The Masters’ series in a bid to shine the spotlight on the people behind the camera – the directors, cinematographers, composers, lyricists, etc., who collaborate to make a film what it is. I have mostly featured directors, composers and lyricists, with an odd nod to a cinematographer. In all these years, I have never written a post about writers who write the story and/or script on which these films are based. A script is the foundation stone upon which a film rests; take that away and you’re left with nothing at all. 

How many scriptwriters can you name? Until Salim-Javed fought for much-delayed recognition for their craft, the posters of Hindi films never mentioned the scriptwriter. The name of the actors, the director, the producer, even the music director perhaps, but never that of the person who wrote the story which others would bring alive on screen.

My Favourites: Songs of Farewell

2024 ended on a horrible note for us here in the US and the repercussions will continue to reverberate for the next four years or more. But in the context of this blog which usually eschews politics (though my political bearings influence my writing) let me take a moment to remember the great many luminaries from the arts: literature, music, movies, radio – Ameen Sayani, Kumar Shahani, Shyam Benegal, Pankaj Udhas, Zakir Hussain, MT Vasudevan Nair, Bapsi Sidhwa, etc., whom we lost this year.

However, this is a new year, and hopefully, a new beginning (redundant, I know).  I am grateful to the readers who still read my posts, old and new. Without you, there wouldn't be a blog. So, a wish for a very Happy New Year, from me and mine, to you and yours. May the world be a happier place, may there be less strife. May we be compassionate and kind and share laughter and happiness.

Love Songs – Mohammed Rafi

Pic: Courtesy: Pinterest/Ravinder Singh Thakur

When Mohammed Rafi passed away on 31 July 1980, even the skies wept. The outpouring of grief that accompanied his funeral cortège was not just because of a legendary singer's untimely death, but because the man who died had been, above all, a good human being. The legacy that Rafi leaves behind is not only his immense body of work – which continue to enthral us – but also the shared memories, narrated by those who knew him well.
 

Teesri Kasam (1966)

Directed by: Basu Bhattacharya
Music: Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Shailendra, Hasrat Jaipuri
Starring: Raj Kapoor, Waheeda Rehman,
Iftekhar, Krishan Dhawan,
Dulari, Asit Sen, CS Dubey

When we first see Hirabai (Waheeda Rehman), it is through Hiraman’s (Raj Kapoor) eyes. She’s asleep and he hesitantly peeks through the curtain that separates them, not having seen who his passenger is. 

Hiraman, viewing her beauteous countenance, spontaneously blurts out, “Abe, ye to pari hai!” (“She’s a fairy!”) 

The A-Z of Mohammed Rafi

Pic: Courtesy - Timeless Indian Melodies
FaceBook

When you think of Hindi film songs, you cannot not think of Mohammed Rafi. In his three-decades-plus career, Rafi sang for almost every hero across generations, modulating his voice to suit each of them so that it almost sounded like they were singing. You could make out a Bharat Bhushan song from one that he sang for Rajendra Kumar; he sounded different for Dev Anand than for Dilip Kumar. He had a ‘special’ voice for Johnny Walker. And he was attuned to Shammi Kapoor for whom Rafi was his soul. [Interesting enough, I came across a song in which Rafi lent his voice to at least 10 actors on screen - B.A., M.A., PhD. ye diploma ye degree from an obscure film called Badnam Farishte (1971)].
 
Mohammed Rafi is my favourite male singer. I have written extensively about him on my blog – here, here, here, and here. What’s more, he’s always present on most of my themed lists. It is impossible to pick my ‘favourite Rafi songs’ – there are too many to count, and I have different ‘favourites’ at different times. So what could I do to celebrate the birth centenary of my favourite singer? 

Shyam Benegal

14.12.1934-23.12.2024
Pic: Courtesy: Brittanica.com

Amidst celebrating the centenary of two of Indian cinema's greatest luminaries comes the news that another legend has doffed his directorial hat and handed in his camera for the last time. While I will pay him a befitting tribute later on, I could not not take note of his passing - with Shyam Benegal's demise, an era has truly ended.

The Dada Saheb Phalke awardee won 18 national awards and countless international honours. He was a cornerstone of the parallel cinema movement and his social commentaries via his films and his documentaries were biting and realistic. Benegal reinvented himself over and over, his creative energy staying relevant to the times. But the core of his film-making did not change; whether he was making documentaries, feature films, short films or television serials, Benegal's voice remained authentic, visionary and uncompromising. In telling the stories he believed in, Benegal also established himself as a feminist director - his women were independent, assertive and had agency. They were neither devi nor daayan, just ordinary, flawed human beings who were strongly individual.

The world of cinema is the poorer for his passing.

The Many Moods of Raj Kapoor

I have celebrated Raj Kapoor in songs before; his aptitude for playing various musical instruments, for instance, or his collaboration with his 'soul', or with Mohammed Rafi, and even unlikely voices lending him playback. But no matter who lent him their voice, he looked like he was singing; he could also emote the emotions expressed by the lyrics, while doing so. That's the mark of a great song-actor. 

To continue to celebrate the man, the actor, the director, a song list that follows the 'Many Moods' theme that I began with Meena Kumari. As always, the only criterion is that he lip-syncs the song on-screen.

The challenge was to find songs that didn't appear on other 'RK songs' lists, so I had to drop favourites like Dil ka haal suno dilwale and Kisi ki muskuraahaton pe ho nisaar... But I finally curated a [very subjective] list of ten Raj Kapoor songs that reflect ten different moods. 

Mera Naam Joker (1970)

Directed by Raj Kapoor
Music: Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Shailendra, Hasrat Jaipuri,
Neeraj, Prem Dhawan
Starring: Rishi Kapoor, Simi, Manoj Kumar,
Kseniya Ryabinkana, Achala Sachdev,
Dara Singh, Dharmendra,
Rajendranath, Om Prakash
and
Raj Kapoor

“The Joker was conceived as early as the post-Awara years and Abbas sahib’s marathon script was the result of years of visualisation and labour. Still many a year and many a film was to pass before I finally mustered up enough courage to actually go down to making it.” 

- Raj Kapoor Speaks (Ritu Nanda).

In later years, Raj Kapoor often chose Mera Naam Joker as his favourite film, not just because it was semi-autobiographical and very dear to his heart, but also because the film had failed. One always loves one’s weakest child the best, he had said, putting into perspective what his films had meant to him. Today, on what would have been his 100th birthday, here's a very personal review of a very polarising film.

The Many Voices of Raj Kapoor

Pic: Courtesy - Film History Pics

As I mentioned in my post earlier this month, Mohammed Rafi had sung for Raj Kapoor in many films. Yet, he was not the only playback singer to lend their voice to Raj Kapoor on screen, notwithstanding Mukesh’s prominent standing as RK’s preferred singer. From his debut film as a leading man, we come across several different voices for Raj Kapoor (sometimes, even in the same film). The list I present below may not be the most comprehensive list of playback singers for RK, but it is a start. 

Aag (1948)

Directed by Raj Kapoor
Music: Ram Ganguly
Lyrics: Behzad Lucknowi,
Saraswati Kumar Deepak
Starring: Shashi Kapoor, Raj Kapoor,
Kamal Kapoor, Premnath,
Nargis. Nigar Sultana,
Kamini Kaushal, Indumati

Aag was born out of Raj Kapoor’s love for cinema; of his need for cinema to stand for something; of the passion that youth dream of. From working backstage at his father’s Prithvi Theatre to entering films as a lowly clapper boy before working his way up to become director, Kapoor lived and breathed films. As KA Abbas famously, if acerbically, put it, if there was only one thing that Kapoor loved more than himself, it was films. And that was how Aag was born. 

Of his first-born film, Kapoor said, "I'll never forget Aag because it was the story of youth consumed by the desire for a brighter and more intense life. And all those who flitted like shadows through my own life, giving something, taking something, were in that film."*