Joshila (1973)

The premise of this story seemed interesting: a love story that starts in a jail -- and the beginning was promising. Amar (Dev Anand) is working in a prison camp with the other prisoners. He offers food and rest to a fellow inmate, Madanlal Dogra (Madan Puri), and also stops to pick up the scattered pages of poetry dropped by a startled visitor, Shalini (Hema Malini). Shalini is intrigued by Amar's philosophical acceptance of his position and his great gentleness of temper.

That night Amar sings from the jail one of Shalini's poems. It's a beautiful song, and I was pretty excited about the movie at this point.

Shalini, who is visiting the jailor (Manmohan Krishna) is able to visit Amar as often as she likes and to read his file. She learns that Amar is in jail for killing (in a fight) a man who had tried to rape someone. The man also happened to be the son of his boss and the brother of his girlfriend, Sapna (Raakhee). Unfortunately, the attempted rape victim had been bribed to testify falsely against Amar, and he was convicted. His father had died not long before this incident, and his family is in straightened circumstances.

Shalini is clearly interested in Amar at this point, but Amar seems to still be in love with Sapna, and everything is set up for a sweet and interesting film (I was thinking Bandini style).

Well, here's where the plot gets a bit weirder (and a lot more scattered). After Amar almost single-handedly puts down an uprising in the jail, he gets an early release. He comes home and is horrified at his family's new poverty (what was he expecting?) and discouraged with looking for a job. When he finds one, he turns it down because he finds out Sapna is now the boss's wife. Immediately after that, he finds out that his sister dances sleazy dances at a nightclub -- and Amar's philosophical acceptance starts fading fast.

At this point he runs into his old jail friend Madanlal Dogra, who offers him help, acting pretty sketchy. Amar is either unaware of Madanlal's sketchiness, or he ignores it (neither of which seems to match his intelligent, decent demeanor in the jail).

The job Madanlal is offering to split with Amar has been offered him by a man named Kundan, and the job description is to take a letter of recommendation and become estate manager to a rich landowner, then murder the landowner (so Kundan can marry the widow and seize the property).

Madanlal asks Amar to meet him later at a nightclub to learn the details. When Amar gets there, the club is crowded with frantic dancers, (seriously, these guys seems to have contracted St. Vitus' dance), and the whole atmosphere is definitely not great. Madanlal offers him a large portion of the money and the letter of recommendation he is going to give the landowner.  Then, suddenly, Madanlal gets on the wrong side of the pretty rough clientele around there, and I thought Amar would try to come to his aid. But Amar watches passively as Madanlal is murdered, and then he runs away, fearing he'll be pinned to this murder as well.

Not knowing what else to do, and taking some of Madanlal's earlier advice about being less conscientious about taking his opportunities, Amar heads off to impersonate Madanlal as estate manager, not knowing the homicidal part of the plan. On his way there he runs into Shalini again and flirts with her, coming across a little too smarmy to be comfortable.

The landowner is Thakur Saab (Pran), a handicapped gentleman with great hair. His wife is Rani (Bindu), who meaningfully examines Amar about getting the job done. And then, weirdly, she starts trying to seduce him, and Amar acts like he's going along with it, and I start thinking, "Amar, I don't think you're thinking what she's thinking." As it turns out, though, he was. Either that or he doesn't see anything wrong with hanging out with his disabled boss's wife in their bathrobes, singing sketchy songs and drinking cocktails.

I do, though, and I lost whatever interest I still had in this movie. What's weird about it, too, is that Rani still treats Amar with suspicion and distrust, and Amar still treats her with distrustful diffidence as well. Nothing seems to change about their relationship, and it doesn't seem to make sense with either of their characters to this point.

And then, when Shalini shows up (she's Thakur's daughter, of course) and begins to suspect an affair between her stepmother and Amar, Amar acts so injured.

Whatever. The first song is nice, Pran is awesome as usual, and the fake horse stunts in the final fight scene are pretty funny, but I don't really think any of them are enough to recommend the movie. There are plenty of others that are worth watching.

Jugnu (1973)

I'm not going to come right out and say that any movie with Pran, Dharmendra, and Hema Malini is worth watching, because I'm pretty sure there's some movie out there that would prove me horribly wrong. Still, I'd say it's a pretty good start!

Shyam (Pran) is a freedom fighter in pre-Partition India. His father (Nazir Hussain) disapproves, and in their argument over the subject, Shyam's father disowns him. Shyam defiantly retorts that "Only the weak hide behind their father's names." Before Shyam gets a chance to storm off, the police show up to arrest him.

Thanks to the quick thinking of Shyam's wife, Parvati, and also to some remarkable athletic stunts of his own (he does a flip into the air and dives three stories, landing sitting on his motorcycle), Shyam escapes.

Shyam is that blur high in the air. Impressive, no?

Several years later finds Parvati living with her son, Ashok. Parvati had separated from her father-in-law at the time of Shyam's disappearance and had moved during Partition. Shyam has not located them, but coincidentally, Shyam's father is the one handing out awards at school (and Ashok gets many). He asks Ashok his father's name and is taken aback when he hears, "Only the weak hide behind their father's names."

That day as Ashok heads home, he sees his mother being assaulted by Mr. Ghanshyam Das. He rushes to her rescue, beats the man, and starts to leave. Unfortunately, Ghanshyam shoots at him; Ashok's mother steps in front of Ashok and takes the bullet in the heart. Enraged, Ashok bludgeons Ghanshyam to death before escaping on his horse.

Witnessing the scene is the trusted accountant of Ashok's grandfather, and he figures Shyam's inheritance is now up for grabs. He introduces a kid named Ramesh to Shyam's father, telling him that Ramesh is Shyam's son, and Ramesh is warmly accepted. Spoiled by his adopted grandpa and looking forward to inheriting a fortune, Ramesh (Prem Chopra) grows up to be a drunken dissolute.

Ashok grows up to be Ashok Roy (Dharmendra), a respectable philanthropist who runs an orphanage. He funds his philanthropy by also being Jugnu, a patriotic, mustachioed bandit who steals from bad guys.

Running from the police one day with a suitcase full of diamonds, Ashok runs into the beautiful Seema (Hema Malini) out target shooting. Ashok hides his suitcase in the trunk of her car, so when she drives away he follows and uses a Jugnu disguise to get into her house and retrieve the suitcase (and flirt).

Dharmendra is hysterical in his Jugnu disguises, especially when he's with Seema. Ashok keeps running into Seema, and after a lot of flirting -- and after she finds out he's super rich -- Seema falls for Ashok. Yay! They are super cute together, whether Seema's with Ashok or Jugnu.

Ashok has a prestigious position in society, a pretty girlfriend, and a fun moonlight superhero job, but suddenly his luck changes, and he sees no way out.

In his heartbreak he turns to his one friend, Mahesh (Mehmood), to help him. Mahesh spends half his time helping Ashok and the other half running away from his ringmaster father-in-law who wants him to help train the tigers.

One final heist, Ashok decides, will settle everything . . . .

It's kind of a fun movie, mostly because of Dharmendra's hilarious Jugnu scenes, his chemistry with Hema, and Hema's gorgeousness.

Seriously, how come I don't look like that?

Veer-Zaara (2004)

I love the way this movie starts: Veer (Shahrukh Khan) wandering around the beautiful countryside singing a beautiful song, and every now and then we get a glimpse of the beautiful heroine, Zaara (Preity Zinta), although at that point her face is always obscured. At the end of the song the two catch sight of each other, and as they run towards each other, there is a gunshot, Zaara drops in a heap on the road, and Veer starts awake in his prison cell.

We are soon introduced to our other main character, Saamiya Siddiqui (Rani Mukerji), a lawyer assigned to argue her first case -- Veer's case. Saamiya is the first woman lawyer in Pakistan, and her drive to succeed is powered both by her love of justice and by her father's dream of making their country a country where women can succeed in professional careers. How well she does on this case will help to determine the future of women in Pakistani law.

Veer has been in this Pakistani prison for 22 years, and has not spoken to anyone, but he responds to Saamiya's compassion and pleading and begins to tell her his story. His story is the story of how he, an Indian Air Force search and rescue pilot, met and fell in love with Zaara, an engaged Pakistani girl from a wealthy family, and how that love led him to this Pakistani prison.

This was one of the first Indian movies I watched, and as they all did in those days, it completely swept me off my feet. The unabashed emotionalism, the music, the lavish sets, the love and drama and idealism, I thought it was great. I cried like a baby and immediately called my parents and told them they needed to rent it somehow and see it, too.

Watching it again recently, I am a little less easily swept off into the fairy tale than I used to be, a little more used to the style of story-telling and everything else, but I still really like it. One of my brothers also likes Bollywood movies, and he told me once that he didn't like this one because he thought it was stupid for Veer to spend 22 years in prison the way he did, (Allen, you're so unromantic). And maybe it is stupid in a way, but I still thought it was beautiful. Even watching it again six years later.

Actually, I didn't think I was going to cry this time, but I did. The night I rewatched this had been my last day of my clinicals training to be a CNA, and the cute little encouraging thumbs up that Veer gives Saamiya as she nervously stands up to begin arguing her case reminded me so much of the little old guys that would give me the same kind encouragement for my first tries at giving them baths or shaving them.

The first time I watched this movie I was too busy falling head over heels for Veer and Bollywood in general to pay too close attention to the other characters, but my parents, who saw it shortly afterwards, did not much like Zaara's character. They thought she was too self-absorbed, and they also didn't like Veer's parents very well. Coming back to the movie after gaining a better knowledge of the culture and of the tension between India and Pakistan, I appreciate them a lot better. I think Zaara's "I am who I am" song doesn't establish that she isn't willing to do things for other people, (as she proves, actually), but instead that she doesn't believe in forcing herself into a certain mold in her relationships and doesn't want to turn into the shadow of herself that the "perfect wife" mold would make her. And I realize now how wonderful it is that when Veer's parents (Amitabh Bachchan and Hema Malini -- whom I also didn't realize when I first saw this movie are veteran, wonderful actors themselves) learn that the girl Veer just took to see them is Pakistani, their first, knee-jerk reaction is to be delighted rather than skeptical or upset.

All in all, Veer-Zaara comes across a lot like a modern-day fairy tale, with the evil fiance, the unprincipled prosecution lawyer, the kind parents back in the village, the serving maid who secretly helps the lovers, and the kingly parents of the lady-love.

I still like fairy tales.

Andaz (1971)

I turned this movie on a couple weeks ago because I was still not feeling well, and Shammi fixes everything.

Okay, so I didn't feel completely well afterwards, but I felt happy! What a fun movie!

We start with a willful little girl named Munni (Baby Gauri) being picked up from school by the mute, buff, and totally adorable Gangu (Randhawa), her family's servant. She insists that instead of going home they go to find her father, Ravi (Shammi Kapoor). They find him, and poor Gangu loses out with everyone as Ravi and his Munni have a face-off ending in a song.

Awww!

Eventually, Ravi runs into Munni's super-attractive new teacher, Sheetal (Hema Malini). He has kept telling his mom (Achala Sachdev) that he doesn't want or need to bring home a new daughter-in-law, but he seems to reconsider that stance when he meets Sheetal. He flirts outrageously with her, Shammi-style.

 

By the end of the night, she sure looks like she's enjoying it.

 

A few days later Ravi takes Munni to Sheetal's house to sort out some school issues and finds Sheetal singing a lullaby to a little boy, Deepu (Alankar Joshi). Ravi is shocked to discover that she is a mother, a widow.

He leaves the kids with her and heads off to work, but Munni and Deepu wander off and get lost in the jungle before school. Sheetal comes to Ravi to help her find them, and after a tense run through the jungle, they discover them soundly sleeping in an abandoned house.

 

Relief at finding their children safe and sound brings another level of closeness to their relationship, and Sheetal begins to tell Ravi a little about Deepu's father, Raj (Rajesh Khanna).

 

Girls, if you're ever out wandering around trees with Rajesh Khanna and it starts to rain, run the other direction. You'll end up pregnant, and he'll die before he gets around to publicly saying that he's married you. It just gets ugly. (Like happens in Aradhana, too.)

Don't hesitate to wander around with him when the weather's nice, though. Look how much fun they're having!

 

Raj's mean dad has nothing to do with Sheetal, and she has had a tough time of it. Ravi is sympathetic to Sheetal's story, and he continues to make friends with her. Little Munni and Deepu make fast friends, too. We also get a flashback of Ravi with his dead wife, Mona (Simi Garewal), whom he misses, but he's not as conflicted as Sheetal. In her grief and isolation, Sheetal has never really let Raj go, never really accepted his death, and consequently, she now has trouble accepting or comprehending her new feelings for Ravi.

Sheetal couldn't be the only one interested in Ravi. A beautiful village girl named Mahua (Aruna Irani) does everything in her power to get Ravi's attention, frequently vehemently swearing to various ailments in order to get him to give her a ride in his jeep.

In spite of these shenanigans, Mahua is really a sweet girl, who likes Ravi more because he's noble and good than because he is rich and handsome. And to make this triangle into a Shakespearean Midsummer's Night Dream quadrilateral thing, Sheetal's mute servant Gangu loves Mahua. Every day he brings her a beautiful yellow rose from far over the hill for her to wear in her hair. I love Gangu! This side story is sad and sweet.

Meanwhile, Ravi's debauched younger brother in the city, Badal (Roopesh Kumar), has been supposed to be going to school but is instead running through money at an alarming rate. Ravi has finally convinced his mother to stop sending Badal so much cash, and Badal now comes home, a big chip on his shoulder against Ravi, whose adoption into the family he has always resented. As it turns out, he is also armed with gossip about Sheetal, and he is not shy about emptying his spite on her.

Not only does he bet on horses, he hangs out with blonde girls. Evil.

This is a lovely, bittersweet film about second chances, with steady pacing and a sweet and even tone. The music is awesome, the characters are (mostly) realistic and totally adorable, the ending does not veer off into Crazyland, and the characters (except Badal and his buddy) act pretty rationally throughout. Yay!

But, nothing; you should see it.