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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 |
- 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.
Mera Naam Joker opens with a number of Very Important People being shown to special front-row seats of a circus. It is an important show, we are told; the famous clown, Raju, will perform under the Big Top for the last time. We know nothing about these people, except that the men (Rajendra Kumar, Manoj Kumar) look serious, while the women (Simi Garewal, Kseniya Ryabinkana, Padmini) look distressed.
And the show begins with Raju bursting out of a large heart. What follows is a scene that has the rest of the crowd in splits – Raju is being chased by a clutch of surgeons who drag him off to an operation theatre despite his protests. Together, they manage to pull out his heart – a large, overblown heart – that if left inside him, they protest, would burst. He would die!
The film segues into a flashback: of a young, beautiful woman, Mary (Simi Garewal), who is appointed as a teacher in a boys’ school. Raju (Rishi Kapoor), egged on by the other boys, draws a caricature of her on the board. When Mary appears, there’s a ludicrous change in their collective expressions.
Mary herself is nonchalant. Is that how I look? She queries and the class squirms. But Mary’s beauty and her good nature charms them into submission. She soon becomes Raju’s biggest supporter: the boy, plump and unathletic, is the butt of his classmates’ jokes (though they all like him).
Raju doesn't know his father; the latter died when he was young, and his mother will not talk about him. Mary is taken aback when she learns this and her confusion leads Raju to insist that his mother (Achala Sachdev) tell him the truth. What was his father before he died?
When, on a school trip, Raju is being teased by some of his classmates, she wades into the fray, when she slips and falls into the stream. Drenched, she becomes the cynosure of the boys' eyes, and hurries away to change. Raju, unwittingly spotting her changing her clothes, is changed forever.
And to her, he shyly gives her his dearest possession – the clown doll that belonged to his father. Mary, unaware of Raju’s changed feelings, accepts the doll in the spirit in which it is given. But her fiancé, David (Manoj Kumar) is more perceptive. Does Mary not realise that he’s in love with her?
Meanwhile, Raju's mother is ailing and he's trying to earn some money to pay his fees. But when, dressed as a clown, he distributes advertisements, he's noticed by a classmate's mother, who complains to the principal. Despite Mary's protests, Raju is asked to leave the school.
Worse, when Mary and David leave the church after their wedding, (Mary) David gives Raju a parting gift – the clown doll. Raju is bewildered. “What must I do with this?” he asks Mary, hurt.
David, perceptive and sensitive to Raju's feelings, tells him that he's returning him (Raju) to him. Raju, the teenager, will soon be an adult, but Raju the clown will remain the same forever. He should be careful whom he gives it to; only give it to someone who will keep him forever.
Chapter II sees the now-grown-up Raju (Raj Kapoor) dressed as a clown, distributing advertisements. His lack of education has been a barrier to employment but Raju's heart is set on being a clown in a circus like his late father. So, when the Gemini Circus is in town and hosting a visiting Russian troupe, he goes along to take a look. Fair and blue-eyed, Raju is mistaken for one of the visiting Russians.
A series of mishaps leads Raju to be mistaken for the 'Russian Ringmaster'; quick to seize the opportunity (and to avoid being thrown out on his ear), Raju becomes 'Ivan Rajovsky'. Unfortunately, that lie lands him in the tigers' cage and he's soon unmasked.
His honesty endears him to Mahender (Dharmendra), the circus owner, and he offers Raju employment. Soon, however, after listening to Raju singing while he's working, Mahender gives him his own act - he will be a singing clown. It's at the circus that Raju meets Marina (Bolshoi Ballet dancer Kseniya Ryabinkana), the beautiful Russian trapeze artist. She is charmed by the clown with mournful eyes who always makes her laugh. As days pass, Marina draws closer to Raju, and despite their linguistic barriers, forms a bond that transcends their differences.
Alas, life intervenes. Marina has to return to Russia. She visits Raju's mother who had welcomed her with such warmth and sadly takes her leave. She leaves behind the clown doll, wrapped in a circus poster. Startled by her son’s picture as a clown, the mother rushes to the circus where, witnessing her son on the trapeze (as part of his clown act) and reminded of the act that killed her husband, she dies of shock. Raju cannot even grieve in private. After all, the show must go on.
But this is the last straw, and after he sees Marina off at the airport, Raju leaves the circus forever. Tormented by his loss, Raju throws the clown doll into the sea. Only for it to be rescued by a dog, Moti, who belongs to Meenu Master (Padmini).
After the initial contretemps, they strike up a contract. Raju, Meenu Master and Moti will set up a travelling circus, share and share alike. Meenu Master is actually Meena, hiding her femininity in order to survive. Angry at being deceived, Raju leaves. But Meena’s love for him brings him back. No more deceit, he tells her; instead of the circus, they will form a travelling show, singing and dancing.
Their performances get them noticed by a theatre owner who hires them to perform qawwalis; Meena's reaction serves as a reality check for Raju; her ambitions will always triumph over her love for him. However, Raju follows her to the theatre where they become famous qawwals. Their performances draw huge crowds and soon, another theatre owner hires them to stage musicals; his only condition is that they stop singing qawwalis. Raju is upset (but not shocked) when Meena grabs this opportunity as well. Soon, their success brings them to the attention of Rajender Kumar (Rajendra Kumar) who is looking to launch a new heroine.
Rajender might not understand Raju, but by the end of their conversation, respects his integrity and his unselfishness. Though Meena objects, it is half-hearted and Raju is once again left behind with only the clown doll for company.
Years pass, and now, here they are again, united under the Big Top.
Originally conceived as three separate films, Raj Kapoor’s
magnum opus, Mera Naam Joker chronicles the three stages of a man's life – adolescence, youth and middle age. It took over five years to make and broke many
of the usual box office conventions. It was Kapoor’s most personal film ever,
and he mortgaged his studio to make it. Its box-office failure devastated him. Kapoor was one of the few filmmakers of the time who recompensed his distributors for any
losses they incurred on his films, and this film’s failure nearly bankrupted
him.
An over-four-hours triptych, Mera Naam Joker was Kapoor’s second film after Sangam to have two intervals. In this last film in which he directs himself, he also returned to one of the tropes he explored in his debut feature, Aag – that of three women who enter and exit his life. But there the resemblance ends.
Unlike in Aag, in Joker Kapoor would film one of the finest coming-of-age movies with his focus on a young adult’s burgeoning emotional and sexual desire for a woman older than him.
Starring a teenage Rishi Kapoor as the lonely boy who finds a crutch in a compassionate teacher and then falls in love with her, this section is a fine film in itself. It's a chapter that dealt sensitively with teenage angst, puberty and first love (and lust), Rishi Kapoor landed an unaffected, raw, and devastatingly honest portrayal that deservedly won him a National Award. Its ending is sad but realistic and the sensitivity that the director shows, not just to the boy’s sexual awakening but also to the guilt he feels (without moralising) make this section a decided classic.
The second section deals with a now-grown-up Raju’s love for a woman who’s beyond his reach – both literally and metaphorically. This section is a pure love story, one that transcends the boundaries of country, race, religion and language. And like all great love stories, it is bound to fail. She’s not of his world, either physically or even emotionally – her ties are to her native land just as Raju has emotional ties to his mother and the circus. She is in his life for but a short while before she must return to where she came from.
It is telling that when he first meets her, he tells her she's as beautiful as an apsara, and when she finally bids good-bye, she’s boarding a flight that will soar into the skies, taking her well out of his reach.
The final chapter suffered from the casting. It takes a huge stretch of imagination to imagine Padmini as a young girl disguised as a boy.
Yet, when the narrative moves forward to where they begin to perform on stage, the film picks up steam, and Padmini captures the emotional beat of her character. Meena’s ambition transcends her relationships which, to her, are transactional.
When Moti is captured by the municipal workers, Raju is bereft but Meena remains unaffected. He’s served his purpose. Similarly, when a film producer offers her a role in films, she is quick to jettison her contract with the theatre owner even if he’s already paid them. Her sight is set on becoming a famous heroine. Nothing – and no one – will stand in her way.
This is usually a ‘negative’ role – ambitious women are usually vamps – but the writing (and the director) infuses the character with humanity and more importantly, with honesty. Even when the story is viewed from a male perspective, and one is compelled to sympathize with the man – the Joker – who is left alone yet again, one understands Meena’s compulsions. As a dancer, Padmini excelled; it’s hard to think of another contemporary actress in this part.
One thing that constantly impresses me about Kapoor's films is the way they position women as complex characters who are more than archetypes. Despite the length of their roles, they have strongly etched characterisations that allow them, above all, to be human. Here, too, while the story is that of the joker's, it is the three women who transform the hero into a living, breathing, suffering individual.
Manoj Kumar, Rajendra Kumar, Dara Singh, Dharmendra, all appeared in cameos, and as in all of Kapoor’s films, left their mark regardless of the length of their roles. Manoj Kumar also wrote many of his own dialogues with Kapoor’s blessings, and his portrayal as a man deeply understanding of a young boy’s teenage fantasies and his matter-of-fact acceptance of the same is perhaps the finest performance of his career.
David's conversation with Raju and his gentle encouragement of the latter's ability to make people laugh leaves the audience with an endearing glimpse into his character.
Kapoor was also in his element as an actor – he infuses his character not just with his characteristic Chaplinesque traits, but also with an aching honesty and authenticity that is truly heartbreaking. Watch the scene where his mother dies watching him ‘perform’ a stunt – one that killed her husband years earlier. When he’s forced to continue to perform – “The show must go on”, says the manager – he acquiesces.
It’s only his eyes that depict his inner agony. Later, when that mask is ripped off, his anguish spills over in a deserted arena. It's a heart-wrenching scene. This philosophy is encapsulated in the verse:
Circus hai show teen ghante ka...
Aur us ke baad?
Maa nahin, baap nahin,
Beti nahin beta nahin
Tu nahin main nahin
Yeh nahin woh nahin
Kuch bhi nahin rehta hai...
When Raju leaves the circus, it is because the journey of a clown has broken him. When he returns to his spiritual home, broken in other ways, it is time for a final goodbye. And like the showman that he is, the exit has to be with a grand flourish. So, the women he has given his heart to (and who have returned it to him) and their partners, are all invited for the grand finale. Even so, there’s no rancour. The clown knows only one way to bow out of the arena – by making people laugh even if he’s dying inside.
Mera Naam Joker was a film with depth and substance, infused with melancholy and underlined by humour. It is possibly Kapoor’s most uncompromising film after Aag. While it’s true that the idea of a clown who makes people laugh while hiding his tears was not unknown – Kapoor’s inspiration, Chaplin, was a master at portraying the inequities of the world in a humorous vein – in Joker, Kapoor takes us on a ride with the clown himself; we see the tears behind the laughter, the man behind the mask. It is at once both an inner and an outward journey. It shows the resilience of the clown, who despite all that life throws at him, can still get up to face the next knock; a man who, buffeted by the vagaries of Fate, still has only laughter to share; a lover, who despite his heart rejected many times over, still finds his heart overflowing with love.
As in his debut feature, there are no villains here – only conflicted individuals who must make a choice. Indeed, Mera Naam Joker is a film about choices, about forks in the road, about decisions. As a story, it stands as a metaphor for life itself. If the clown were standing in for Kapoor, he’s also saying that there may be sadness, but there are no regrets. He’s as clearsighted about himself as he is about his life experiences.
The film may have been a box-office disaster when it first released but its songs (which, at 46 minutes of running time, accounted for nearly a quarter of its length) were a huge success. Though Kapoor’s ‘dream team’ was unravelling: Shailendra had died a few years earlier; Lata Mangeshkar had had a falling out with Kapoor over Sangam; Shankar and Jaikishan were not on very good terms… they still came up with a score that’s rightly considered a classic. Interestingly enough, Kapoor lip-synced to three of the greatest male singers of the time: Mukesh, Manna Dey and Mohammed Rafi.
I agree that Mera Naam Joker is a difficult film to watch, but if you have the patience to sit through a four-hour-plus film, I guarantee you will have a rewarding cinematic experience. And if you can’t commit to that at one stretch, you can still watch it as three separate chapters, each complete in itself. Viewed thus, the film loses nothing of its charm or emotional pull. In fact, Mera Naam Joker was a huge success in the erstwhile Soviet Union, where it was released in three parts.
Is ke sivaa jaana kahaan?
Postscript
Unfortunately,
the only prints available of the film online are the abridged versions which
have cut an hour or more of the film. I watched the uncut version of the film
on The Criterion Channel when they were having a Raj Kapoor retrospective, and
there was a good print of the uncut version on YouTube a year or so ago.
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