Leeja Leeja

Here is a cabaret number from the frankly amazing 1967 film "An Evening In Paris", which is probably my favorite Bollywood film ever. The pertinent memes in this movie have already been well explicated by Corey Creekmur here, but I have two particular topics I'd like to expand on:

DUALITY
Sharmila Tagore, the main actress in this clip, occupies an interesting role for Bollywood - she is the heroine of the movie, which in earlier films would have meant that there would be no way she could perform these sexy nightclub numbers. In the past, this kind of moral standard paved the way for actresses like Helen to carve out a decent niche playing only the "bad girl" roles that the heroine actresses couldn't do. But this movie finds a clever loophole around the problem - Sharmila plays two characters, twin sisters Deepa and Suzy - one's a virtuous, well-behaved Indian girl, and the other has ended up as a cabaret dancer with mob ties. Creekmur puts it in classically western terms: "this allows Sharmila Tagore to, again, play both a virgin and a whore, coded of course by their contrasted Indian and Western manners." I think the latter statement is somewhat of a simplification though, as even the well-bred Deepa character seems to evoke western influences by initially claiming to hate men and remaining reasonably independent for most of the film. But there is a running current of Indian vs. Western contrasts in the film, and oddly enough, as if to further distance her character, Suzy is introduced in this clip as "Suzy the Oriental Dancer" - to Bollywood audiences this would indicate a vaguely Chinese identity, which, as you can see from the costumes and sets in this number, evokes a peculiar set of stereotypes.

Certainly, the inventive plot structure allows Sharmila to assume responsibility for two roles that, in previous Bollywood films, would almost definitely have been played by different actresses so as to allow the main character to remain relatively pure and blameless. And of course, in a way this opens the door to more complex and conflicted female characters - as far as I've seen, Bollywood has not made a whole lot of progress on this front, but still, it's an important first step.

HAIR
Blond is evil; red is eviler. Note the distinctive copper-gold shade of Pran's hair in this clip (he's the central fellow you keep seeing in the reaction shots). Also note that his gangster pals are semi-blond and bald. Bollywood has serious hair standards to uphold! Basically, redheads are pure evil, blonds are kind of evil, and bald dudes can swing either way depending on how western they look (fairly wide scale between evil gangster henchman and nationalist savior guru). Apparently, the western hippies that populate the audience and the ranks of slightly sluttier backup dancers are tolerated because they look so damn stoned.

Well, that's it for now. Don't forget, if you're in SF on Sunday, I'll be at the Argus Lounge playing Bollywood hits and much more. See you there!

Jara mudke mila aankhe

The 1982 hit Disco Dancer is easily one of my favorite Bollywood films. It's in that rare category of movies where nearly every musical number amazes and fascinates me. It follows the rise and trials of a disco singer whose stage name is "Jimmy". In this song, "Jara mudke mila aankhe", Jimmy is just getting his start, but he's already earned an enemy, Rita, who is protesting his performance with a cadre of shoe-throwing girlfriends. Unfazed, Jimmy confronts Rita with his seductive, vaguely threatening dance moves. It turns out the throng is easily swayed by Jimmy's ability to lead them in aerobic Dancercise, and he seals the deal with an impressive bit of dancing lying on his back like David Byrne.

Enjoy the clip, and if you're in the Bay Area, come check out my Bollywood night tomorrow at the Argus Lounge!

Aap Jaisa Koi

I've been feeling kind of tired this week, and the only cure is lots and lots of star filters. Good thing I've got this disco delight from the 1980 film Qurbani to cheer me up. This song feels like it was just on the cusp of the disco trend that would soon take over Bollywood—it's kind of a softer, gentler disco sound.

Zeenat Aman fronts the band, wearing a dress that's one of those odd combinations of revealing and concealing that you see so often in Bollywood. My God, you can see her SIDES!!! She's supported by a highly enthusiastic Mandingo drummer and a gang of girls in glittery workout leotards. Of course, what really makes this clip is the lighting. Bright, colored, flashing, reflected off disco balls and hanging mesh, but most of all, shot through gorgeous, crazy, rotating star filters.

Intercut a standard portion of male lead reaction shots, one quirky scene with some supporting characters, and a fuzzy heart-shaped matte shot, and you've got yourself a nice feel-good dance number.

Those male leads must have a bit of a hard time doing all these reaction shots. I would assume they're mostly shot separately from the actual dance part, probably with the rest of the crew all staring at them. Here's what I think Feroz Khan is thinking to get himself into the right mood for each shot:

1. Go, shorty, it's your birthday, we gon' party like it's your birthday!


2. Man, check out Zeenat's sides! Daaaamn!


3. I'd tap that.


4. Time to break out my sexy half-raised eyebrow look.


5. It's really hard to keep looking sexy with this damn wind machine blowing on my hair.


6. Oh yeah, the look of slight disbelief. Slays 'em every time.


7. Hmmmm...


8. Wait, shit, did I leave the oven on?


9. Okay man, calm down, you got the scarf of nonchalance, remember? Keep it cool.


10. Damn I'm slick.

Here are the translated lyrics, culled from a forum site:

If someone like you were to come into my life
Then things would be set, yes things would be set

The springtime for the flower, the garden for the springtime
The heart for the heart, the body for the body
Everyone wants a meeting of body and soul
I wish that your heart would have a desire for mine
Then things would be set

I'm a human, not an angel
I'm afraid that I might wander
This lonely heart cannot pull itself together, without love it will pine
Where is there one like you, this heart would like to have just you..

Then things would be set...

Pyar Zindagi Hai

This is one of the first Bollywood songs I ever heard. It's from the 1978 movie Muqaddar Ka Sikander, and I found it on an excellent Bollywood compilation CD called "Bollywood Funk". The funky guitars, synths, gorgeously distorted vocals, and disco beat made it a quick favorite, so later, when I started watching Bollywood films, I decided to track down this movie to see how the song was staged. As funky as the song is, I definitely wasn't prepared for what I saw.

I've included a little bit of the scene preceding the song so that you can see how dramatic the transition is. Right off the bat, there's some amusing dialogue in English: "Hey man, you dig this sort of music? You like it? Then why don't you come and join Lover’s Paradise." Apparently, paradise for lovers involves a ridiculous number of candles (including one gigantic one), lots of glowing hearts, and mirrors in way more places than you'd think would be healthy. All the candles remind me of some kind of Catholic church—in the culturally stereotyped world of Bollywood, this means it's perfect for a den of sin. Just to make the connection a little clearer, we have a lecherous old white guy trying to grab the singer (Rekha), eliciting a truly off-putting rhythmic giggle.

If you're wondering about the constant cuts to Amitabh Bachchan looking somewhere between stoned and worried, basically, the couple that walked into the club ahead of him are his best friend and the woman he loves (sporting some bad-ass Princess Leia curls). It's a good thing the set is covered with mirrors, because it makes a number of the shots of Bachchan very slowly and angrily drinking much more interesting. Well, that and his very provocatively displayed chest hair.

After some explosive lightning intercuts and an odd dance routine involving a lot of bouncing, Bachchan decides it's time to play the "No real person could drink whiskey this quickly" game, feeding the rage until he smashes the bottle against—what else?—a mirror.

Duniya Uski Sunti Hai

Here's a rather bizarre cabaret number from the 1966 movie Dus Lakh. I found out about this movie from a book I'm reading called Helen: The Life and Times of an H-Bomb, by Jerry Pinto. It's a pretty good book... it's not really much of a biography, but more of an academic look about the cultural meanings and ideologies reflected in Helen's career and her roles. I mentioned in an earlier post that Helen never really succeeded in getting good leading roles because she was not ethnically Indian — this book provides a very thorough explanation of the traits and positions that Helen's characters were given because of her perceived whiteness. Besides that, it's giving me a great list of — what else — more Bollywood movies to track down and get clips from! Because, you know, the six hours of clips I already have captured and ready to post might not be enough... :)

Helen comes rolling in on a giant globe ("the world" of the song's title) dressed in — for some reason — a flamenco/mariachi outfit, with a bunch of fruit on her head like Carmen Miranda. Then Brahmachari, playing her brother, appears in possibly the silliest hat you've ever seen (if you've never been to Beach Blanket Babylon).


Beach Blanket Babylon plus Al Gore plus Carmen Miranda equals Bollywood... it all makes sense now

Also, this might just be me, but I'm seeing a weird resemblance between Brahmachari and Ron Mael of Sparks:


Helen is in fine form in this number, but Brahmachari nearly upstages her with his antics, such as pulling ridiculously fake strands of his hair out and "twanging" them, a bizarre stripping costume change where he ends up in what look like bright orange pajamas, and then just to max out the absurdity, another silly hat with what looks like a blow-up donkey on it. Then Helen walks him on a leash. All this has barely even a tangential connection to the lyrics or to the plot of the movie, and I suspect that maybe it's just meant to illustrate how unruly and strange Anglo Helen and her family are. Pinto writes in Helen that Christians and Anglo-Indians are often characterized in Bollywood movies as having loose morals and being associated with alcoholism, crime and prurient sexuality.

At least in Dus Lakh, Helen's character, Kitty, doesn't die or meet another sad fate, as she tended to. Pinto writes:

Kitty then becomes a nurse, and thanks Kishore, for she has been saved from a life of degradation. Her adoption of what are presented as Indian values and the consequent willingness to enter a life of service — never mind the Anglo-Indian community's long tradition in education and medicine — saves her from a fate worse than death.

Here are the translated lyrics of the song. The "du du du, ni ni ni, ya ya ya" part spells out "duniya," which means "the world."

Du du du
Ni ni ni
Ya ya ya
Duniya
The world listens and obeys him who makes it bow to its feet

Take from one and give to the other, that's how all live in this can
When it's someone else's wealth, eat, drink, enjoy as much as you can
When this is how everyone lives, then why don't you too try it?

Learn and understand the walk the world walks, dear
You too change your color, what is it that you fear?
If it's necessary, be nice even to him who makes you sick

Aaja Aaja Main Huin Pyar Tera

Introducing my favorite Bollywood actor - Shammi Kapoor! Also known as "the Indian Elvis Presley," he cultivated a distinctly Westernized, urban, hip persona, in contrast to the romanticized agrarian and traditional values portrayed by most male stars of the time. He was a huge star in the '60s, and with his youthful, hyperactive intensity, he took over the role of the romantic playboy like no other. As the Official Shammi Kapoor Fan Club puts it, "To watch him tease the heroine was much like observing an overgrown pup romping and frolicking in a bed of prized roses." Shammi's songs were often performed by the playback singer Mohammed Rafi, who was a friend of Shammi's and worked to imitate the vocal style of early Western rock singers like Elvis.

This crazy spasmodic dance sequence is from the film Teesri Manzil, from 1966, which actually has quite a few excellent dance numbers. Shammi's manic, broadly expressive moves are on full display in this deranged, twitch-filled choreography. I have to confess that I have actually watched this movie countless times in an attempt to incorporate Shammi's unique and brilliant moves into my own dance repertoire.

You may have noticed from the bit of dialog at the beginning of the clip that this is supposed to take place in a "rock and roll club," and while the band's music certainly has a strong Western pop influence, their outfits are just confusing... the only description that even sort of fits is that they look they're supposed to be Robin Hood's suave cousins.

Anyway, after several minutes of Shammi cavorting around the club, his lady friend, Asha Parekh, decides it's time for a twitchy dance showdown, and man does she have some tricks up her sleeveless top. By the way, don't get any ideas - that top is the product of advanced Bollywood engineering efforts to produce the most formless and unenticing shape possible. But that's okay, because with Asha, it's all about the eyes, and in this case, her seduction strategy seems to be to induce epilepsy in her victims by fluttering her eyelids at theoretically impossible speeds. This capability, along with some of her jerkier dance moves, make me suspect that Asha Parekh is, in fact, a robot. All I can say is, better not cross her, because she's got a serious posse of backup dancers who clearly have the ability to travel into the future to purchase tights from American Apparel.

Somehow, the excitement just keeps on building, and the contagious epileptic fit dance spreads to the rest of the club! In a final flurry of fast cuts, we see a few token white patrons, several dancers who clearly need either immediate medical attention or an exorcism, and most exciting of all, the guitar-cam, which shows us — for no conceivable reason — the view through the sound hole of the guitar! Finally, the fat lady collapses, and it's all over. I absolutely love it.