Totally Filmi

Sridevipalooza: Mr. India (Part 2)

In Mr. India (1987, dir. Shekhar Kapur), Sridevi plays Seema, a hard-hitting, kid-hating, investigative journalist for the deliciously named "Crimes of India".  And as such, here are some examples of what she wears throughout the film:

Because Seema is, in fact, the epitome of the modern 80s woman:  dresses with draping, ruffles, floral prints, big bows.  Seema is fresh.  She is bold.  She is perfectly attired.

That said:  much of what she wears can pretty much be summed up in the Sridevi colourway I made the blog over with in honour of her this week:  lovely, fresh pastels.

What's a little more interesting for me from a purely colour perspective, however, are the two song picturisations she performs in the film, "Hawa Hawaii" and "I Love You".

Now, I did a whole whack of screencaps for "Hawa Hawaii", but deciding on a colourway for this number would prove a little challenging, based on what's going on it it (Hint:  a lot).  So have a watch, first, and then I'll share some thoughts on colour:
 

I haven't created a colour swatch for Seema based on this number, but if I did?  It would be heavy on gold, red, black, and white -- that is, it would share rather a lot with the colours I picked out for the film's villain, Mogambo.  It kind of makes me think that we have our hero, Arun, with on one side, a powerful adversary, and on the other side, a powerful ally in Seema.

But to create a colourway for Miss Hawaii, I got thinking about two things:  first, her name, which clearly must come from the word "havaa": air, wind, breeze, and therefore "havaaii" -- airy?  Windy?  Breezy?

(I cannot help but think of the song "Windy" by The Association:  "Who's peeking out from under a stairway, calling a name that's lighter than air, who's bending down to give me a rainbow, everyone knows it's Windy.")

Let's go with Miss Breezy, because that, frankly, sounds prettiest.  So, Seema, having accidently overheard about the plot to trade the golden statue of Hanuman for some drugs and weapons, turns up at the venue dressed as the performer for the evening, the infamous Miss Hawaii/Breezy:

This is, actually, one of my favorite moments in the film -- even more so than Sridevi's iconic turn as Charlie Chaplin.  When she starts nibbling the fruit off her hat, I end up in fits of giggles.  Miss Hawaaii is, indeed, breezy, airy, funny, and oh, so colourful: 
 

Color by COLOURlovers

Stil, though -- that's not what I would choose to epitomize the lovely Seema.  For that, I want to turn to the film's most famous song, "I Love You", in which Seema dances with the (mostly) invisible love of her life, Mr. India: 
 

I pulled three screencaps from the film to try to think about the colours:

And played around with them until I finally decided on this:

Color by COLOURlovers

What I love about this is that over at Colourlovers, if a colour hasn't already been assigned a name, you are asked to do so, so now?  The light teal blue on the far left is called "Seema's Sari".  But the darker blue next to it was already assigned a name:  "Blind Lover".  Which is sort of what Seema is.  Blind in the sense that she can't see Mr. India (and the red is there to play with the idea that he can only be seen in red light, which happens in the song) and also that in falling in love with Mr. India, she is blind to the fact that he and Arun are one and the same.

I've had a great deal of fun playing with the colours of the film Mr. India -- I'm grateful for Sridevipalooza for giving me the push to do it, and I will certainly be doing something like this again in the future!

Sridevipalooza: I keep lighting candles, maybe one day it'll pay off.

 

"Anusha Rizvi has been a lover of cinema since her childhood. “I am from that generation that had seen the Sunday movies that used to be aired on Doordarshan. My parents made me watch all the Bengali films made by maestros like Satyajit Ray and Ritwik Ghatak. When I was young , they took me to watch Aamir Khan’s Raakh, which I found to be quite explicit. I am a complete film buff and a big fan of Sridevi and Govinda,” smiles Anusha."

 

If you're not familiar with Anusha Rizvi, don't worry -- she was kind of overshadowed by the producer of her film Peepli [Live], Aamir Khan.  And if I wasn't already keen to see her film (I am, oh, I am) before, she would have totally won me over with that confession that she loves Sridevi and Govinda.

Here's the thing:  I think I love both Sridevi and Govinda for some very similar reasons.  Both are fine actors, great dancers.  Both have a gift for comedy, especially of the slapstick variety.  Most importantly:  both have the capacity to light up a screen in a way that draws the viewer in, that is joyous and just exquisitely wonderful.  That's not to say that every film they made was a gem; but even in the worst of their films,  they still manage to bring something lovely to the screen.

(I could get all philosophical about why that's so, and toss out words like "authentic" and "authenticity", but as much as I think they truly apply to performers like Govinda and Sridevi, I think they tend to be so overused -- so misused -- that it's not a discussion I really want to get into right now.)

So it always seems surprising that they only ever made one film together -- it would seem that pairing them would be a match made in cinema heaven.  Problem is, I think the only reason they ever made one film together is because they made one film together, and that film?  Was Gair Kaanooni (1989, dir. Prayag Raj).

And Gair Kaanooni?  Is messy, convoluted, cliched, and often baffling.  However, the most baffling thing about the film is that it has an impeccable pedigree.  The director, Prayag Raj, wrote the screenplay for Manmohan Desai's Amar, Akbar, Anthony.  Kader Khan, who wrote the dialogues for Desai's film, was the dialogue writer for Gair Kaanooni.  The music is by Bappi Lahiri, the choreography by Saroj Khan, and the cast?  Govinda, Sridevi, Rajnikanth, Kimi Katkar, Kader Khan, Shashi Kapoor:  everything was there to ensure that Gair Kaanooni would turn out to be a spectacular film.

But it's not.  It is, decidedly, not a very good film, except in five specific moments:

1.  When Govinda is on screen (anytime, but most especially the "Tik Tik Tik" song where he and Kimi dance on a giant clock.)

2.  When Sridevi is on screen (every moment).

3.  When Rajnikanth is on screen.

4.  When Govinda and Rajnikanth are together on screen (in fact, I think these are the film's finest moments).

5.  When Govinda and Sridevi are together on screen.

The unfortunate thing is, none of these 5 things happens very often in the film, especially in the first, oh , 45 minutes or so.

But Gair Kaanooni strikes me as a decidedly cursed film.  Not only could that cast and crew not deliver a stellar film, but the film itself creates problems for those wishing to view it for Reasons 1 to 5 above.  Either the film inexplicably stops working in the player; or, it works, but has these severe and inexplicable edits (one right in the middle of what might be the best song in the movie); or it causes destruction in its wake.

Okay, that last point might be debatable, but in any event:  Gair Kaanooni clearly had the potential to be something other than what it turned out to be, which is, alas, pretty much One Hot Mess.  Okay, One Hot Mess with some pretty stellar moments.

One of them being this (and I apologize for the poor quality, but this is the only clip I've managed to scrounge up of this song, and that's the one that will contain an inexplicable edit if you're unlucky):  this is "Pahije Mala Pahije Mala", and Govinda and Sridevi are just delightful in it:

So.  I still think they should work together again.  I think Sridevi should come out of retirement, and make a film with Govinda.  Or a film with Govinda in it.  I'll talk more about that on Friday. 

Tomorrow?  Part 2 of Mr. India, in which I look at the costumes of Sridevi's character Seema.

 

 

Sridevipalooza: Mr. India

The one film I knew I absolutely wanted to re-watch during Sridevipalooza was Mr. India (1987, dir. Shekhar Kapur).  And I have.  Several times.  And no matter what I do, the only thing I can think of to write about Mr. India is this:

OMG!  THIS IS ONE OF MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE FILMS EVER!  I FREAKING ADORE THIS FILM!

Which isn't going to do much towards contributing any kind of thoughtful analysis of the film for Sridevipalooza.

Problem is, what do you say about Mr. India that hasn't already been said?  Shekhar Kapur's only commercial Bollywood film (he is probably known more for films like Elizabeth and Bandit Queen).  Terrific performance by Sridevi, notably in the picturisations for "Hawa Hawaii" and "Kaata nahi katate" (perhaps the ultimate wet sari sequence).  Amrish Puri's classic villain, Mogambo, with his most memorable of lines:  "Mogambo khush hua" ("Mogambo is pleased.")

And Anil Kapoor as Arun, Mr. India himself, the sweet and unassuming everyman who cares for his orphans and yet manages (with the help of a gadget that renders him invisible) to find his inner superhero and save India from evildoers.

Not to mention the dependable cook Calendar (the always delightful Satish Kaushik), the raggle taggle band of adorable orphans, justice meted out using a golden statue of Hanuman, and a cockroach.

Then I read the post by Lindsey Baker entitled "Technicolor Fashion: The Wizard of Oz" over on the Colourlovers blog.  I was mesmerized and fascinated.  In it, Baker discusses how the use of colour and costume design create characters and generally enhance the experience of watching the film for the viewer.

After reading that post, I immediately knew I wanted to do something like this with a Bollywood film -- and quite honestly, I had it in mind to look at Farah Khan's Om Shanti Om.  And to do it much later in the year, to give myself some time to play with the idea and do some research.

But after watching Mr. India for about the umpteenth time, I decided that maybe it deserved to be the guinea pig for my curiousity about colours and characters.

Now, I cannot possibly begin to match Lindsey Baker in trying to apply this idea to Mr. India -- partly because I just don't have the knowledge required to do what she's done.   I did go searching to see if I could find out who had done the costumes for the film, but either there was no particular person assigned to them, or the information never made it into the credits,  or the end credits for the film either never existed or the manufacturer of the DVD edited them out (it happens).  A search of Wikipedia and IMDb shed no further light on the subject.  The best I can do is look at who did the Art Direction, in this case Bijon Das Gupta, and wonder if he contributed anything beyond the sets (though I think the sets here probably contribute as much at times as the costumes do).

But still -- for me, it's an interesting exercise, and I'm willing to share my thoughts and what I've played with as I've looked at the film.

The costumes for The Wizard of Oz, writes Lindsey Baker, "serve firmly to establish characters as particular individuals", and I think the same can be said for those of Mr. India.

Take the film's classic villain, Mogambo:

Shades of silver, gold, black and red, symbolizing power, wealth, violence.  Mogambo is dressed like a ruler, because that's his ultimate aim:  to rule the world.

Color by COLOURlovers

 

Then there's the dependable Professor Sinha (veteran actor Ashok Kumar in a small but key role), who provides Arun with the key to his invisibility:

The professor is dressed in shades of brown and grey, proving he is reliable, conservative, intelligent -- in fact, everything a good scientist should be.

Color by COLOURlovers

And then there's Mr. India himself, Arun Bhaiyya:

 

Color by COLOURlovers

Here's the thing about Arun:  much has been made over the fact that he's a superhero with no costume, and that his outfit for the entire film consists of black slacks, tweedy jacket, and a taupe canvas hat.  But Arun's costume suits him perfectly:  again, the colours show us he's practical, dependable.  And he's dressed like the everyman he really is:  Arun is one of the little people, like the people he tries to help and defend in the film.  Dressed as he is, the viewer can easily identify with him and his cause.  When we cheer for Arun, it's because we can put ourselves in his shoes.  Even if he has the fabulous bracelet of invisibility to help him.

And here's another thing about Arun:  he may be colourless, but his life certainly isn't.  The colour in Arun's life comes from the orphan children he cares for:

And also from the old fashioned car he drives:

 

Arun may be a festival of dependable neutrals, but his life is dotted with red and yellow to represent the love and optimism he exudes  And he really deserves a second colour palette to represent that:

Color by COLOURlovers

Now.  In a post in honour of Sridevipalooza, there's been a decided absence of Sridevi.  But quite honestly, Sridevi's Seema deserves a post all of her own.  Stay tuned for Part Two of Mr. India.

Sridevipalooza: Janbaaz

I am often intrigued by the decisions made by filmmakers when they try to show a character under the effects of mind-altering substances -- how do you possibly show what is going on, what the character is feeling, thinking, perceiving?

It's a problem Anurag Kashyap faced with his film Dev.D.  Kashyap sought the advice of director Danny Boyle, and the result is there on the screen. 

In Janbaaz, director Feroz Khan faced a similar issue -- with what I think are intriguing results.  I will do a proper look at the film at some point, but frankly, the Tech Guy and I sat down last night to watch it and the two of us ended up a little....stunned.

Now, watching a film with the Tech Guy can occasionally be a surprising experience, because sometimes I drag him to all these films and he watches just because he likes movies and not because he's made the choice, and yet, he takes it all in and then occasionally blows me away with stuff that makes me think.

I was commenting that it was obvious that Feroz Khan had a vision and an aesthetic that he was trying to capture, and that it didn't always work, but was incredibly intriguing to think about, and how it made me think about Salvador Dali, and then the Tech Guy said he thought it all looked like "avant-garde masala" to him.  Not to mention reminding him of Dev.D.  At the exact moment that I was thinking about how Kashyap solved the problem of showing his main character on a high, and how Khan had made a different set of choices in doing that.

Which is a long-winded way of saying that now I really need to sit down and think about the film before I write anything about it, because right now, all I could say is, "Holy moly, that is probably the singularly most cracktastic film I have ever seen."  Which I think would do Feroz Khan and Janbaaz a great disservice. 

Not that it isn't cracktastic.  Because it is.  But that's not all it is.

However -- that's not why I started writing this post today.  No, if I'm thinking about Janbaaz this morning, it's because the film features what would seem to be the only guest appearance Sridevi made in her entire career.  In an interview she gave last year at the time of the death of the great and awesome FK, Sridevi spoke about her role in the film, and why she accepted it.  (Hint:  it's because he was TOTALLY AWESOME.)

Sridevi makes a brief appearance in the film as Seema, the love interest of Rajesh (Feroz Khan), a police officer working in the narcotics squad and bent on breaking a drug cartel.  Seema is a beautiful and talented singer, and she is kidnapped by the cartel, drugged, and then killed, all to punish Rajesh.

The role uses Sridevi's beauty and glamour to advantage -- and contrasts it with her rapid descent as her captors make her dependent on the drug they shoot into her arm, to the point where she is reduced to begging for more when she comes down off her high.  Sridevi is brilliant.  But don't take my word for it, watch for yourself:

Sridevipalooza: Heer Ranjha

As retellings of the classic Punjabi love story go, Heer Ranjha (1992, dir. Harmesh Malhotra) is probably not the best version ever.  But it's not the worst either, and proof that a stellar cast (Sridevi, Anil Kapoor, Shammi Kapoor, Anupam Kher) will generally make any film more watchable.

Actually, it's probably proof, too, that no matter what she does, Sridevi is exquisite.  Luminous.  And a joy to watch:

It's also proof that I will get a kick out of any film that casts Anupam Kher as a cracktastic, bhang-addicted uncle:

Because I will.  Indeed, I will.