Totally Filmi

that seventies week: Adalat (here be spoilers)

When Beth (Loves Bollywood) came up with the great idea to run a 70s movie week, I knew I had to come up with at least ONE blog entry for it.  I mean, if it weren't for the films of the 70s, I'd likely not be writing this blog or recording my podcast at all.

But I hadn't intended to write about the 1976 film Adalat at all this week -- in fact, I had a couple of other completely different ideas.  But I find working on the blog and the podcast, sometimes I start in one place, and end up somewhere I hadn't intended after a completely circuitous journey that would echo a 70s masala film if only it included a fabulous lair (my workroom doesn't qualify, alas), a tiger, a guy jumping out of a giant Easter Egg, or a dance number featuring Helen.

And it's probably unfortunate, I think, that when I think of Adalat, the first thing that pops into my mind is this:

Which I totally love, by the way, because it is completely fabulous in a 70s kind of way,but it's unfortunate that "Dance the Kung Fu" (as fabulous as that is) overshadows what is a pretty good film.

Adalat is the story of Dharma (Amitabh Bachchan), a likeable village farmer.  The film opens with the birth of his son, Raju, and the first ten minutes or so sets up Dharma's family -- including wife Radha (Waheeda Rehman) and sister Laxmi (Heena Kausar).  In a scene that warms my masala loving heart, Dharma saves three men (Ajit, Suresh, Sujit) from a tiger attack:

Well, of course, they used the stuffed tiger trick before switching it for the real one.  Now tell me, how can you not love the stuffed tiger trick?

Because of this brave and daring deed, the three men offer Dharma a job in Bombay.  Little does Dharma know how soon he might need it, because the village ends up beset with drought, and Dharma decides to take his family to Bombay in order to survive.  Dharma becomes the warehouse manager for the men, and ends up in jail for illegal activities (that he really has no knowledge of).  As a result of his time in prison, the previously likeable and happy-go-lucky Dharma finds the fabric of his life shredded:  his sister Laxmi kills herself after being raped by Sujit, his wife Radha and son Raju are destitute.  Dharma decides to take his revenge on Ajit, Suresh, and Sujit, and in the end, makes his way up to the head of the smuggling underworld.

Raju, however -- Raju is sent to England to go to school, and when he returns as an adult, we have the delicious situation that one actor (Amitabh Bachchan) plays both the role of father and son in the film, and in true seventies style, all it takes is a floppy wig and some sunglasses to work this magical masala transformation (more on the wig in a bit).

While in England, Raju has met and fallen in love with Geeta (Neetu Singh), whom he wishes to marry.  Adult Raju appears post-interval -- the interval ends with Dharma having wreaked his vengeance (or so he thinks) on all three men who wronged him, and stumbling into taking over the smuggling.  Post-interval we are introduced to the older, more successful Dharma, and we witness the return of Raju from England.

Amitabh Bachchan was nominated for a Filmfare award for his performance in Adalat, and it was, in my opinion, well-deserved, not only for his ability to show the transformation of Dharma from his earlier outgoing, noisy, baghwan trusting avatar, to the silent, brooding, corrupted one, and also for being able to navigate the dual roles, as both Dharma (father) and Raju (son).  Ironically, he won the Best Actor award that year, but not for this role -- he was also nominated for the iconic Anthony in Amar, Akbar, Anthony.

And I think that Adalat represents what the best 70s films have to offer:  despite all the crazy twists and turns that films of that era can take, the best ones offer satisfying and cohesive narratives and an attention to fine details.  Adalat is no exception.  Laxmi's fate is hinted at in the film's first song -- Dharma is the center of attention for it, but we see the men taking looks at Laxmi that suggest their interest is in her rather than in Dharma's dancing.  And then there's this scene:

 

Dharma, Radha and Raju are shown sitting in their dried-up field, as wagons carrying the villagers who are leaving roll by in the background, a fate that soon becomes that of Dharma and his family as well.

But what would any 70s film be without either the wallpaper:

 

or lots of interesting camera effects?  Like this one:

Or this one:

Admittedly, Adalat's first half is better than the post-interval half:  the pacing is better, and Dharma is a delightful character until circumstances turn him into a dour old smuggler.

However, Adalat also features Kader Khan in a very subdued role as a police officer (Inspector Khan) who takes an interest in Dharma from the moment of his conviction, almost acting as our witness in the film to Dharma's change from a good-hearted man forced to take justice into his own hands...

...to one who at some point crosses a moral line, and his descent to becoming an underworld smuggling don seems inevitable.  Inspector Khan represents a justice that seems incapable of doing anything more than watching events unfold, and, as a result, a justice that is incapable of being meted out as it should.

There is, truly, no happy ending in Adalat -- Radha dies of a gunshot wound from a bullet intended for Dharma, and Dharma dies in his son's arms.  We have no idea whether Raju ends up with Geeta -- the only point here is that Dharma must suffer the consequences of the vigilante justice he has meted out, and must pay with his own life.

I have to say, that despite  the sluggishness of the second half, Adalat is still a film that I rather like, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which are the scenes between Raju and his mother.  Raju isn't as meaty a character for Amitabh Bachchan -- but his performance here is the first time that I could clearly see that there are times when his son Abhishek is truly a chip off the old block.

And then, of course, there is That Wig.  The Wig in Adalat is so bad it is wonderful, almost taking on a life of its own.  Here it is at the mercy of static:

And slipping out of place:

And here?

You can almost hear the Big B thinking:  this wig, it's going to cost me the Filmfare Award, isn't it?

Hee.
 
  

eat, strike, love

Yes, it's all Striker, all the time around here these days.

On Saturday (ear infection willing), I'll be doing a session at Podcamp Toronto about the whole YouTube premiere of the film.

I've watched the film three times now.

I've participated in a watch-along, a chat about the film, and today I spoke with Tim Coyne of the Hollywood Podcast about the film -- that'll go up as an episode of the podcast once I find time to edit the audio Tim was kind enough to record for me (at the last minute I realized I didn't have the ability to record a Skype call).

I've been eating, sleeping, dreaming this film for two weeks now.  Let's not comment right now on whether it's a film worthy of that much of my time. 

But I have to say two things about the film:

Yes, I am obsessed with the shirts in this film, they are *that* cool.  I've already screencapped a bunch of them, once I have a little more time I'm going to do them ALL.

And?

Too true, that.    

striker: a challenge

I've been thinking about Chandan Arora's latest film, "Striker", for days now, not sure what to write about it.  I've seen it twice now -- once on my own, once as part of a watch-along organized by Beth.

I reacted to one scene, and its consequences in particular, and wondered if perhaps it were just me.  But during the watch-along (organized on Google Wave) I swear, you could hear the stunned silence across the intertubes at that point in the film.

Since Sunday, a lot of discussion has been taking place about the film, most of it happening on Twitter.  And I've been more and more disturbed by a few things, not the least of which is that mainstream reviewers have, for the most part, ignored the plot point in question.  And many of us who have objected have been accused of doing so because we're women.

Which is bollocks.  We're objecting to it because the scene had no context to justify what takes place in it, and because the action is so out of character for the protagonist as to be, well, slightly shocking.

Here's the thing:  Striker is the first Indian film to be put up on YouTube -- viewers outside India have been given (mostly) free and legal access to the film at the same time as its theatrical release in India (there is a $4.99 rental fee for folks in the U.S, and the film is blocked in India).  This is an amazing opportunity for those of us who have limited access to films in the cinema, and often have to wait for the arrival on DVD.

And the makers of the film are looking at this model to see if this could be a viable form of distribution.  They've encouraged us, in particular, to ask non-Indians to watch the film.

I've been reluctant to do so -- not because the film is bad, it isn't.  In fact, there is a great deal about it that's quite good, from the cinematography to the meticulous research done on the time period, setting, and even the carrom games that form the central thread of the film.  The acting is good, the soundtrack is terrific.  To be honest, the weak point of the film is its screenplay, though even that has solid moments.

However -- I thought, okay, you want honest feedback, from non-Indians, and perhaps from people who've not had much exposure to Indian cinema.  So I'm challenging the folks out there who I know -- the podcasters in particular.  Would you be willing to watch the film?  Would you be willing to set aside a couple of hours of your time (pretty quickly, I'm not sure how long the film will be up)?  And then, would you be willing to record your impressions and feedback and send it to me?  I'd really like to know what others think, and I'd like to be able to share that my reactions really aren't just because I'm a woman (which I find slightly insulting, but there we are).

Or, if you want to write something and send it to me, or put something in the comments here, or write up a blog post I can link to -- do let me know, though, because I want to be able to pass this information on.