Satyam Shivam Sundaram

In Satyam Shivam Sundaram, director Raj Kapoor sets out to teach us it is not what is outside, but what is inside that counts (Really, Raj? And you chose a scantily-clad Zeenat Aman to illustrate that point?).



Sarcasm aside, once I got past the irony of it all, I found SSS to be a fairly enjoyable film. There was lots of pretty things to look at. The story was interesting. I added Zeenat Aman and Shashi Kapoor to my list of actors I want to see more of. And I had my first taste of 70s Bollywood--which, by the way, is just as groovy as everyone says it is!

And, you know what? After watching the film, I think Raj Kapoor made the right choice for his heroine. Zeenat gave the role a mysterious, mesmerizing tone that perhaps only she could pull off. Yes, she was barely dressed and every movement she made was super-suggestive...But it kept you watching...and created a believeable backdrop for an otherwise unlikely tale. I mean, let's face it...only Zeenat's bronze curves prancing through the forest could make a man fall in love without even seeing her face (And by that I should clarify a man like Shashi Kapoor's Rangeev, who was self-admittedly hung up on physical appearances).



Now, I usually steer clear of plot summaries in my posts for two reasons: 1) I'm extremely bad at pulling out main ideas and 2)I'm afraid of going on a tangent and telling too much. But I'm beginning to think they might be helpful to those who have not seen the film and want to decide whether or not it is something they would like. So, I've decided to include a little plot synopsis in all of my posts from here on out. And I promise, I'll try to keep them as simple and brief as possible.

So, here goes: Rupa (Zeenat Aman) has been considered unlucky since the day she was born. She is an outcast, a lonely young girl with few friends and a father who considers her misfortune a curse. As a young girl, Rupa is burned in a cooking accident, which leaves one side of her face scarred. Villagers whisper that Rupa will never get married, and her father fears the same.



Enter Shashi Kapoor (Ranjeev), an engineer transported to Rupa's village to oversee construction of a dam. One morning, Ranjeev is lulled out of his quarters and into the forest by Rupa's enchanting voice, where he spies her volumptous image from afar. He pursues her relentlessly, never once seeing her scars (If the thought of Ranjeev meeting Rupa several times without noticing the side of her face seems impossible to you, just watch the movie. You'd never believe this would work, but it does. Way to go, Raj Kapoor). Ranjeev is head over heels for Rupa, and asks her father for her hand in marriage.



We start to hold out hope for Ranjeev and Rupa until we discover Ranjeev has a phobia for anything less than beautiful. In his own words, he "cannot tolerate any form of ugliness". Uh-oh. What happens when Ranjeev unveils his new bride? I won't reveal anything else, but the rest of the movie takes you down this path.



One nagging flaw in all of this: As the viewer, you seem to be the only one other than Ranjeev who notices how hot Rupa is. The rest of the town appears oblivious to this fact, which seems kind of ridiculous. Scar or no scar, Zeenat Aman is one sultry babe. It's like watching Marilyn Monroe walk through an army of soldiers without turning any heads.



Make no mistake, though--Zeenat Aman gave us more than sex appeal in her performance. I hadn't really seen her in anything, except for Laawaris, which I really didn't remember much about. I thought she was awesome here--the role gave her an opprotunity to take on many different shades to Rupa's personality, and she delivered every time. Her dancing was cool, too-- very snake-like and alluring. Check out this video of "Bhor Bhaye Panghat Pe" and you'll see what I mean (also be sure to notice Shashi's adorable face at 4:22).



In the 70s, men in the U.S. were drooling over Farrah Fawcett. I'll bet men everywhere else were fantasizing about Zeenat Aman in the waterfall.

I've heard that Satyam Shivam Sundaram did not sit well with some because Raj Kapoor flaunted Zeenat Aman's sex appeal to no end. This definitely spiced things up a bit, but I can see why some might be disturbed given the treatment of the main character. Personally, I chose not to overanalyze it, and I'm glad I didn't. It was worth my while to just sit back and enjoy the eye candy, because there was lots of it. As a matter of fact, the entire movie was colored with beauty, from Rupa to Ranjeev to the trippy "Chanchal Sheetal Nirmal Komal"(more on that later).



Ahh, but the real reason I bought Satyam Shivam Sundaram was because it starred Shashi Kapoor.



He's such a fan favorite, especially with my fellow bloggers (check out Sanket's awesome tribute), that I couldn't wait to get my hands on some of his films. In hindsight, this probably wasn't the best place to start, as Ranjeev wasn't the most likable character in the world, but...It just means I'll have to watch more of his films, right? Not that he didn't do a great job--I'm convinced that I would have hated Ranjeev if anyone else had played him. But Shashi had a sort of softness in his voice and smile (I loved the little nervous chuckle he did under his breath!), a boyish quality that caused me to blame his actions on immaturity rather than character. Like Rupa, I kept wanting to forgive him, kept trying to give him ways to redeem himself (***SPOILER***And he does redeem himself in the end--once he and Rupa end up together, I wiped his slate clean of all his past sins. I couldn't help it, because I honestly trusted that he would shape up and treat Rupa right from there on out***SPOILER END***).

Which brings me to the creme filling in Satyam Shivam Sundaram--the song that looks like it was inspired by a 70s acid trip, "Chanchal Sheetal Nirmal Komal". Seriously, I kept expecting little munchkins to pop out and join in on the song. Well, whatever RK was smoking, it did the trick, because this song is jam packed with visual goodies. And, as I've done with my other Raj Kapoor posts, I've included some pics for you...




















As you can see, Satyam Shivam Sundaram made more of a visual impact on me than anything else. But it was still a decent film--and totally worth my time. Watch it for Zeenat, for Shashi, and for eye candy galore.

Text © 2008 Nida Nazir Bitten By Bollywood

Awara

I throughly enjoyed Awara, but in a very different way than the other Raj Kapoor classic I watched last week, Shree 420. Both were excellent films. Both showcased Raj Kapoor in two distinct ways, as the actor as well as the director. And both were, in my humble opinion, worthy of the classic status they hold.

However, while Raj Kapoor won my heart in Shree 420, he broke it in Awara.



I'm not saying that's a bad thing. I may have even liked the overall story a tad better than Shree 420 (If you've read that post, you know I love that film very much, but this story had more romance and family drama, which genre-wise is more my thing). Any film that is about a child separated from his/her parent touches me on a personal level (see my Laawaris post), and Awara presented this situation in a very tangled web of misunderstanding, pride, and hurt.

While this may sound a bit depressing--and it was, at times--the film still had Nargis. Her character, Rita, was like ribbons of sunshine amongst the negativity. While it was Raj Kapoor who stood out to me in Shree 420, it was Nargis who shone here. She had an amazing grace and beauty about her that reminded me of the Hollywood starlets in the same era (I'm not implying that Hollywood actors are superior, but since I've only seen a few Bollywood oldies, and grew up in awe of the old Hollywood classics,that's really all I know to compare this to).

Because Awara cast Raj Kapoor in a different, darker shade than his golden-hearted character in Shree 420, I was able to appreciate the actor's versatility (can't wait to see what else he's done!). Still, I wasn't sure how I felt about this Raj, as he did some things in the film that were questionable.

For those of you who have seen Awara, you probably know I'm mostly talking about the slap.


Yes, Raj Kapoor slaps Nargis in this film. Actually, it was three slaps, sandwiched between a chokehold and a shove to the ground. Now I read in more than one place that it was written in as a symbolism of Raj's frustration at his own iniquities when held up to the goodness of Rita--and has probably been accepted as a necessary part of the story for ages (Correct me if I'm wrong, those of you who grew up loving this film). I'm even confident RK didn't include it to promote domestic violence, but to convey an intense amount of emotion. Still, it was a bit difficult for me to swallow. Did it affect my ability to enjoy the movie? Not necessarily, because I didn't want to overanalyze it. But I just had to mention it now.

But aside from all of that, Awara wowed me like no other with the incredible imagination of Raj Kapoor, particularly in the song "Gyar Aaya Mera Pardesi". For those of you that haven't seen the film, it's possible you may have heard of this one. It's a dream sequence that starts with beautiful picturizations of what appears to be "heaven"...Then, suddenly, as you're basking in the rays of Nargis's beauty and Lata's floating vocal(sounds much smoother than it does today), you're whisked to a "hellish" place and even confronted by a towering villian. Both "heaven" and "hell" even have their own statues of what one can assume is a godly/demonic figure. It's the ultimate contrast of good and evil. Here's a sneak peek:









It was cool that Raj Kapoor was able to cast his real life father and brother in this film. I felt it really added a personal touch to the story, especially in the father/son scenes. And cute little Shashi Kapoor gave a darling performance as the young Raj. He and his costar were equally amazing(I couldn't find this little girl's name, but she was adorable as the young Rita). These two were a delight to watch onscreen, especially after the thick drama that unfolded in the beginning.


If you couldn't tell, I'm really enjoying my journey through the mind of the "Master Showman", Raj Kapoor. I feel like watching these older films has opened a whole new door to something I already love-Indian cinema. I promise to branch out and continue through the different eras and genres, and I'm so lucky to have my readers to do it with me! Your comments and thoughts have been great--keep them coming! It truly makes it so much more rewarding to have someone to share these beautiful films with :).

Text © Nida Nazir Bitten By Bollywood

Shree 420

If you can't resist a face like this, Shree 420 is for you.



He sings. He laughs like a child. His shoes are so worn they can practically talk. He can't afford to pay for his date's chai. But he cleans up quite nicely. He is Ranbir Raj.

I stumbled across Shree 420 while browsing through some of the Hindi classics online. I'd been meaning to branch out and delve into some of the Bollywood oldies from the 50s, 60s and 70s, because I'd heard so many good things about them from the other bloggers, and the Raj Kapoor classics were on sale. So I decided to start there, and purchased Shree 420, Awara, Satyam Shivam Sundaram, Sangam, and Bobby. The other night I figured what the hey, let's start with Shree 420.

As soon as the first song began I knew I was in for a treat. You gotta love these lyrics:


For those of you who know Raj Kapoor, you're probably well aware of his characterization as the "Tramp with a Heart of Gold". For those of you that are not, you must check this film out, as I'm guessing it's one of Raj's most popular roles (I'm only assuming this from what I've read online, as I haven't seen any of his other work yet). He was just as cute as a button! His childlike sweetness and vulnerabilty got me all mushy inside. With a Chaplin-esque outfit and the most pathetic looking pair of kicks I've seen in awhile, Raj lit up the screen as a young man entering Bombay with nothing but his degree, which he carried proudly in his pocket, no less.


Raj's character had such an innocence that most of the time I just wanted to hug him! The man even carried around a medal he had won for honesty. I'm not kidding. And, being the jolly little guy that he was, getting used to the hustle and bustle of the big city was an adjustment. Check out the look on his face when he first arrives in Bombay and discovers people aren't always so friendly:


He also had an interesting way with women. Look at how he laughs like a schoolboy when Nargis (making her entrance into the film) slips on a banana peel:



Smooth, Raj, smooth. You sure know how to woo your women.

The film (which I just discovered got it's name from section 420 of India's penal code--an understandable reference once you see the movie), is about Raj's journey into "the real world" and the consequences of what happens when one is forced to compromise their values and honesty in order to survive (an irony since Raj started the film carrying that medal of honesty award I mentioned above). The film also goes into Raj's clown persona as a mask he wore in order to see the crazy world from a clearer perspective. I'm not sure if this was a deeper message than I took it to be, and maybe I'm overthinking this, but there were times when this was mentioned that made me wonder how "naive" Raj really was. Was that the impression the director wanted me to have? I couldn't tell. And I'm also aware that some of the issues the film touches on probably resonates with those who are more familiar with India's economic standings, particularly at this point in time. Be that as it may, I was struck by how similar Raj's situation was to the middle class American of today.

Shree 420, despite it's sociological undertone, was also a very fun ride. The songs were catchy and sweethearts Raj and Vidya gave me a delightful intro to the famed Raj/Nargis pairing (and, more importantly, to the two as respected Bollywood legends in their own right). (***Spoilers ahead in the next couple of paragraphs**) I liked that the movie ended on an optimistic note--Raj returned to the simplicities of life he began with, proving it is possible not to lose yourself in the trials you may face. (Also, Raj Kapoor looks quite dashing in a suit--see below photo).



Shree 420 also gave me the opprotunity to meet Nargis, the Bollywood star I'd heard about but had never seen onscreen up until now. It's easy to see why she was so popular--her smile was very warm and friendly, almost having a calming effect on me. Yes, Raj was getting too cozy with the bad guys, but seeing Nargis' sweet face reassured me that everything was going to be just fine. Even when Raj dissed her at the party (Something I would have had a really hard time forgiving on a date), I still knew all would end well. How could anybody hurt Nargis?


The songs of the film were a delight to watch. In "Pyar Hua Iqrar Hua", Raj and Nargis reveal their feelings for one another under an umbrella, the rain pouring, an iron fence in the background. We even get a glimpse of the raindrops dancing! In "Mud Mud Ke Na Dekh", I got the impression that Raj Kapoor liked eye candy...and I do too! Here's a glimpse...







Sorry for the picture overload, but it was just so pretty...

As you can see, I really enjoyed this experience. I'll definitely be following up with the posts for the rest of the movies soon. In the meantime, I'll be singing "Mere Joota Hai Japani" as I bartend this weekend. I'm sure patrons at the club I work at will appreciate that. Either that or I'll get jumped in the parking lot.