Nagina (1986)

Directed by: Harmesh Malhotra
Music: Laxmikant-Pyarelal
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Starring: Sridevi, Rishi Kapoor,
Sushma Sreshta, Prem Chopra,
Komal Mahuakar, Jagdeep,
Amrish Puri

The 80s were certainly not the greatest period in Hindi cinema. There were a few bright spots here and there, but overall, the decade was dominated by mindless action movies and regressive ‘family dramas’.  But this era also saw the rise of one of Hindi cinema’s most iconic female actors –Sridevi. Having made the Bombay film industry sit up and take notice with her histrionics and comic timing in a slew of forgettable southern remakes and male-dominated ‘action’ films opposite ageing stars like Rajesh Khanna, Jeetendra and Amitabh Bachchan, she cemented her stardom with her first ‘woman-oriented’ role in Nagina.

Nagina is kitsch. It exemplified everything bad about the 80s. Outrageous storyline, loud performances, unnecessary – and horrible – ‘comedy’ (courtesy  Jagdeep), bad music (courtesy LP), bad editing… so, why did Shalini and I watch it one fine day? One, because Shalini had never watched Nagina. And two, because what lifted the movie above its flaws was the singularly committed performance of its female lead. 

Rajiv (Rishi Kapoor) is returning home after a long absence, and his mother (Sushma Seth) is overjoyed. So is their manager, Thakur Ajay Singh (Prem Chopra), who had taken over the responsibilities of managing their estate following the death of Rajiv’s father. Vijaya (Komal Mahuakar), Ajay Singh’s daughter is also thrilled to finally be meeting ‘Raju’ after many years.

When Rajiv returns, Vijaya is given the task of squiring him around. As she shows him around the area, they pass a ruined haveli. Vijaya explains that it used to be Rajiv’s ancestral home. In fact, she says, their family temple is still on the premises. As he stands there wondering why the ruins unsettle him so, Vijaya screams. Rajiv looks down to see a cobra coiled around his boots. 

He kicks it away and quickly mounts the carriage, driving it home. When his mother hears about their near escape, she is terrified. She begs Rajiv to not go near the ruins. When he persists in finding out what it is about the deserted haveli that is so mysterious, his mother clams up. Unknown to them, the snake had hitched a ride home.

The next morning, when he's visited his farms and his factory, Ajay Singh offers to drop him back home. Strangely enough, their Jeep breaks down in front of the same ruined haveli. While Ajay Singh goes off to fetch water, Rajiv hears the sound of anklets and the strains of a song. However, there's no one to be seen. 

The next day, Rajiv drives to haveli alone, strangely drawn to the ruins. And this time, he hears and sees someone singing in the distance. 

Much to his surprise, he’s never able to catch up with her. But as he returns dejectedly to the carriage, he finds a young woman waiting beside it. Her name is Rajni (Sridevi), she tells him. Doesn't he remember her? She asks him. Many years ago, they used to play in this very courtyard. Rajiv is perplexed but there's something about this young woman that intrigues him. She is dejected that he has no memories of her, but she persists - remember when these ruins were once a palace? They had spent so much time together. He will remember, he must! She even takes him to the temple, hoping that will trigger his memory of her.

But when it doesn't, Rajni doesn't give up hope; her wide-eyed innocence entrances him and when he takes his leave of her, he promises to return. Their subsequent meetings only bring them closer, so much so that Rajiv is now head over heels in love with Rajni. 

Much to his mother’s displeasure, Rajiv is now totally uninterested in squiring Vijaya around. Instead, he finds himself being more and more attracted to the mysterious young woman he’s met in the ruins. To countermand what she sees as her son’s disobedience, Rajiv’s mother fixes his alliance with Vijaya. Ajay Singh is overjoyed.

When Rajiv hears this news from Vijaya, he’s taken aback. But when he confronts his mother, she is obdurate – he will marry the girl of his mother’s liking. Rajiv refuses and it’s a stalemate until she finally gives in to Rajiv’s persuasion and agrees to meet Rajni once. Rajni’s looks and demeanour win her heart, and she gladly acquiesces to their marriage.

Unfortunately, this turns Ajay Singh into a deadly enemy. He first tries to kill Rajni before the wedding, but his men are foiled by a couple of cobras who fatally bite one foolhardy foot soldier. 

Rajni, meanwhile, has endeared herself to her mother-in-law to whom she's become both daughter-in-law and daughter. One day, a sadhu, Bhairavnath (Amrish Puri) stops by the house to meet Rajiv’s mother. As soon as he steps into the house, he warns her that he can sense the presence of a snake. Rajiv’s mother is shaken to the core. She begs him to find a remedy. And Bhairavnath promises to do just that. 

Meanwhile, at the lawyer's, Ajay Singh refuses to return Rajiv’s ancestral property. It is clear that Ajay Singh holds all the cards. The only way he can regain his property, advises the lawyer, is for Rajiv to find the letter that Ajay Singh had signed many years ago. 

When Rajiv returns home after searching unsuccessfully for the papers, it is to find Bhairavnath and his disciples trying to charm the snake from hiding. Irritated, Rajiv asks them to leave. But, by then, the sadhu had caught sight of Rajni, who has been drawn from her bedroom by the power of his been. That girl, he warns Rajiv's mother, is not worthy of this house. Rajiv is furious. He throws Bhairavnath and his disciples out of his house, much to his mother's dismay. 

When she protests, Rajiv informs her that there are more pressing matters to worry about. Ajay Singh has refused to transfer the property back to them, and the papers pertaining to that transaction are missing. Rajni, overhearing, asks Rajiv to return to the office to look for them. She's sure the papers are still there. And sure enough, that's where Rajiv finds them (with some help from a snake). 

Despite Rajni's best efforts to keep her husband safe, Rajiv is attacked by Ajay Singh's henchmen. But he manages to retrieve the precious file from them. Deciding that the best way to do anything is to do it oneself, Ajay Singh decides to kill Rajiv, only to be stopped by the snakes. Rajiv has a narrow escape but he's seriously wounded. Unbeknownst to them, there's another enemy on the sidelines, wanting to kill Rajiv for reasons of his own.

While Rajni stays guard over Rajiv at the hospital, his mother, terrified of the harm that has befallen her son, visits Bhairavnath at his ashram. The sadhu informs her that her daughter-in-law is not human. She’s a shape-shifting cobra, an ichhadhaari naagin, who has taken on human form to extract vengeance for the death of her mate. If she won't believe him, Bhairavnath tells her, perhaps she'll believe the evidence of her own eyes. Keep a close watch on Rajni; a naagin must change back into her original form once every day. 

Scared out of her wits, the woman keeps watch, and sure enough, Rajni transforms into a cobra. The frightened woman begs the yogi to rid her of the snake. And so begins an epic battle between a snake-woman determined to save her mate from a second death, and a yogi whose overarching desire for world domination overrides the virtue he’s earned through his tapas.

Nagina was Sridevi’s film all the way, despite her well-known terror of snakes. Neither the script nor the costumes did her justice, but she anchored the film with the sheer brilliance of her performance. Watch her just after the scene where she, in snake form, has battled a snake sent by the yogi to kill her husband. 

Or the scene preceding the Main tera dushman sequence, where she has to – wordlessly – display the power the yogi’s been has over her. Her anger, helplessness, and the determination to not let him succeed were all depicted through her expressive eyes, before she transforms into a 'snake'. Her movements are sinuous, her eyes (aided by blue-grey contact lenses that hurt her eyes) flash venom, she is as snake-like as it is possible for a human being to be. 

In an interview to Filmfare, the actress had said "I had to convey the feeling that I was helpless, that I was imprisoned by the strains of the music. To do this without speaking a single line of dialogue was a challenge. So, I just went along with the music and let my body do the talking." And, 'talk' she did! The song may be awful (though it was very popular back then), but the choreography (by Saroj Khan) was excellent, almost a dance-drama as the snake-woman ‘bites’ to kill every one of the yogi’s minions.

Having an extensive body of work in the South Indian industries, Sridevi had initially ventured into Hindi in the remake of 16 Vayathinile. Unfortunately, Solva Sawan, starring Amol Palekar, didn’t create any waves. Four years later, she returned in Himmatwala, a regressive potboiler; though she was mocked by the film press in Bombay, who gave her the sobriquet ‘thunder thighs’, Sridevi’s success proved to be a slap on their faces, as she surged from strength to strength to finally reign over the industry within a few years. Not since Hema Malini had any female star commanded such box-office power. Films were sold on her name alone; in fact, after Aakhree Rasta in 1986, she could – and did – refuse all offers opposite Amitabh Bachchan until she was offered Khuda Gawah in 1992, without making a dent in her popularity or box-office power. Hema Malini was the only other actress who made that same decision for the same reason – they had nothing to do in an Amitabh Bachchan film.

Rishi Kapoor was an able foil. This was his first film opposite Sridevi, and in an interview just before he died, he spoke about how they shot the film with no conversation between the two at all. All she said was 'Good Morning', he said; it shows how committed actors can act well even without knowing or talking to one another. Rishi plays the secondary role with as much conviction as he always did - the commitment to his profession is exemplary. 

Prem Chopra's character was slightly more nuanced than we were used to seeing in the gaudy eighties - the script gave him a reason for his enmity, and the veteran actor did justice by bringing out the nuances of a fond father whose love for his daughter overcomes his loyalty to his employer. 

Amrish Puri was deliciously over-the-top, his deep voice standing in good stead as he declaimed his dialogues (instead of just saying them). His scenes with Sridevi, though melodramatic, were a testament to how good actors can elevate the source material. 

The cast definitely deserved a better film, but hey, Nagina was a stupendous success, so who am I to judge? After all, Shalini and I not only watched the film but thoroughly enjoyed it as well. Unfortunately, thanks to my serious lapse of not saving our conversation, you will not be regaled by our intelligent and scintillating remarks. Just believe me when I say we enjoyed the film. Your mileage, of course, may vary.