Dilli Ka Thug (1958)

Kishore Kumar (Kishore Kumar): a man reduced to poverty and gambling by his father's murder

Asha (Nutan Behl): Kishore's childhood fiancee, whom he has not seen since infancy

Anant Ram (Amar): a manufacturer of false medicines and the murderer of Kishore's father; he has now assumed the identity of Asha's uncle (wearing a prosthetic mask) and writes detective novels

In short, the plot is this: Kishore Kumar uses a disguise as the Prince of Sajampur to get a job with Anant Ram, and also unwittingly ends up with a wallet containing a letter that reveals Anant Ram's true identity. Kishore does not examine the contents of the wallet, but Anant Ram sees him with it and tricks Kishore into writing a suicide note signed with his own name. While Anant Ram bides his time, Kishore does his best to repair the fortunes of his family and woo Asha.

The point of this movie, as far as I can make out, is simply to be a vehicle for Kishore Kumar's irrepressible buffoonery and to showcase Nutan Behl's glowing beauty. The film does a good job at both these things. Kishore Kumar is pretty funny in some places, and Nutan is always stunning.

Unfortunately, they don't really enhance each other, in my opinion. Nutan does a good job of coming around to Kishore (as well as the script allows, anyway), but Kishore . . . . Kishore apparently had a very odd personality, and you can tell from his movies that not all of the bizarreness was acting. You can also tell, I think, that Kishore wasn't that good at relationships. He does a good job at the acting that involves personal emotions, like stress and fear, but when it comes down to relational acting, he looks pretty uncomfortable. He and Nutan have a beautiful love song where Nutan looks loving and radiant. Kishore, on the other hand, looks like he wonders how he ended up there and where the nearest exit is.

The movie also has a few other odd things, like the part where Anant Ram shows up to take Kishore (in his very silly disguise as the Prince of Sajampur) to "the water valley" just after Asha figures out the Prince is Kishore. The valley turns out to be a kind of pond full of girls floating around on intertubes and singing, and then Asha pops up out of the water in a lily kind of thing.

So, I'm puzzled. Why would the Anant Ram have a pond full of singing women, and why would Asha, who was annoyed at that point, show up and sing in it? If it's a dream sequence, why would the Anant Ram come and tell Kishore he was taking him there? Maybe it's actually a show Asha was in (and that was never explained)?

Incidentally, Asha, who seems to spend most of her time at home like normal Indian girls, is not only an international swimming champion and owner of a large medicine company, she also seems to spend a little bit of time being a recreational -- doctor? (I think it's great, too, how often she rescues Kishore. And how swimming gives her colds.)

I don't really understand this movie. I don't really get Kishore Kumar, either, other than that he seems to be the Indian equivalent of Danny Kaye. I love Danny Kaye, and I'm beginning to kind of understand the Kishore Kumar humor better, too, but I still find him rather odd.

But if you're a big fan of Kishore Kumar or Indian slapstick, this is your movie. Or if you can't get enough of Nutan Behl (and I don't really blame you there) and you don't care a ton for a tight plot (this is Bollywood, after all), go ahead and watch Dilli Ka Thug.

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.