An Evening in Paris (1967)

…and a day or two in Beirut (plus an afternoon in the Lebanese countryside, masquerading as provincial France). A couple of days in Switzerland, and a grey afternoon at the Niagara Falls. Lots of Paris, of course, from the Eiffel Tower and the Champs Elysées, to the bateau mouche and pretty little cafés.

And Sharmila Tagore. And Shammi Kapoor. And pretty mad masala.

What with reading about Amar Akbar Anthony (and thinking over the lost-and-found trope), I ended up thinking, too, about An Evening in Paris, which is a good enough example of the genre. In this one, Sharmila Tagore is the one who plays the character(s) who’re lost: twin sisters, separated as children, thanks to a villain. They grow up unaware of each other’s existence, and in classic Hindi film style—ranging from Anhonee to Sharmeelee—with one sister good and the other bad, or at least not-so-good.

Sharmila Tagore as Deepa and Suzie in An Evening in ParisThe film begins by introducing us to the good sister, Deepa (Sharmila Tagore), on a flight from Delhi to London [which, by some inexplicable diversion, lands her in Paris, but never mind. It’s just a preview of how this film goes all over the place].

Deepa, we are told, is a very wealthy heiress, who—at 23 years of age, with three failed romances behind her—has come to the conclusion that Indian men are not to be trusted. All of them are after her for her money; none of them really love her. So she’s headed for Paris to find true love.

At the airport in Paris, Deepa is received by two people: the ‘Pariswaale chaacha’, Mr Damodar Dayal (David), who has been employed by Deepa’s father to look after her and her fortune; and the driver-cum-general dogsbody, Makkhan Singh (Rajendra Nath, nutty as only Rajendra Nath can be). Deepa immediately warms to both of them, and also to Honey (Sarita), the maid and companion whom the Pariswaale chaacha has employed to attend to Deepa.

Deepa arrives in Paris
Deepa soon opens her heart [even sooner, actually, than she opens her luggage] to Honey, telling her about her cynicism re Indian men. Honey offers a suggestion: if Deepa is looking for true love, she should pretend to be poor. The two girls decide to pretend that the luxurious flat they’re living in belongs to Honey and that Deepa is her maid.

Deepa confides in Honey
A plan is concocted
To add a touch of verisimilitude to this, Makkhan Singh goes out and buys an Indian naukraani’s outfit [read: bright ghaghra-choli-odhni, with lots of accessories and jewellery] for Deepa to parade around in.

Clad in this completely impractical and unconvincing attire, Deepa goes out to simper on the streets of Paris. Very soon, she’s accosted by a rather naïve [or simple-minded, whatever] Frenchman named Louis, who—because he shares accommodation with an Indian, knows Hindi. [It’s an advantage to be a Hindi-speaking Indian in a foreign land. No matter where you are, you’ll always find someone who speaks your language].

Deepa finds an admirer in Louis
Louis doesn’t stop to wonder at the incongruity of a ‘very very poor’ Indian maid who speaks good English, is loaded down with costume jewellery, and is traipsing around Paris. He’s too bowled over for that, and after a swift proposal [these Frenchmen think on their feet]

…races off to tell his Indian buddy Shyam Kumar ‘Sam’ (Shammi Kapoor, who else?) all about it. When Sam hears about this Indian girl who’s going about tarring all Indian men with the same brush, he decides to do something about it.

Louis breaks the news to Sam
This, sadly, consists largely of cutting out poor Louis’s chances of getting married to Deepa. With Louis out of the way, Sam approaches Deepa [who, by now, is an elegant and wealthy looking confection of embroidered sari, chic jewellery and perfect bouffant; she’s obviously decided there’s no point remaining in ghaghra-choli for a Frenchman stupid enough to believe that].

Sam introduces himself as a Frenchman (who’s lived 20 years in India, hence his familiarity with Hindi). He tries to chat with Deepa, but she gives him the cold shoulder.

Deepa finds herself another admirer
In the meantime, another suitor enters the lists. This is the Pariswaale chaacha’s slimy son Shekhar (Pran, for some unexplained reason wearing an orangey-yellow wig that does nothing for him). Shekhar, we discover from a brief scene where he tries to borrow money from his upright and honest father, is neck-deep in debt. Debt, too, which he’s incurred because of an uncontrolled love for gambling. Daddy is sick of trying to keep Shekhar on the straight and narrow.

Pariswaale chaacha and his wicked son, Shekhar
…and Shekhar, having discovered that Deepa is wealthy, decides that the best way to pay off his debts is to marry an heiress. He starts buttering Deepa up, and our heroine [who literally has ‘more hair than wit’, as Georgette Heyer would’ve described it] laps it all up. To be fair, not because Deepa finds Shekhar extremely attractive, but because she wants to make Sam—who’s lurking in the background—jealous.

Deepa finds an admirer in Shekhar
This being a Shammi Kapoor film, the quintessential picnic takes place (with Shammi, disguised as an Arab named Hukku Pasha, gate-crashing it). This is followed, shortly after, by another Shammi-film-fixture, the Youth Festival in an Exotic Place. In this case, the venue is Switzerland, which allows:

(a) Deepa to go there to do ‘charitable work’, as a Red Cross nurse [I had no idea you could up and become a nurse in a jiffy, no training required]
(b) Shekhar to trail along and inflict his company on Deepa whenever she isn’t working [which seems to be almost always]

And, (c) Sam to trail along, sing songs, and generally indulge in some stalkerish behaviour.

Sam pesters Deepa
By the end of the day, Deepa’s brain has been so addled by being chased up and down the Jungfrau by her two suitors, she allows Shekhar to get her drunk dead as the dodo. Shekhar takes Deepa to his room and is getting ready to have his wicked way with her—

Deepa's virtue, in jeopardy
—when the US Cavalry arrives! [No, well. Not really; just figuratively]. Sam, aided by the faithful Makkhan Singh, phones Shekhar, and (without revealing his own identity) threatens to do a lot of very nasty things if Shekhar doesn’t come down to the lobby ASAP. Shekhar, in a flap, begs ‘Jaggu’ not to do anything rash. ‘Please, Jaggu,’ he pleads. ‘I’d spoken to Jack, and promised him that I’d pay the money back in a month’s time.’ There are some rather puzzling (to Sam) references to people being killed, etc. This is all very odd, and Sam doesn’t have a clue.

The end result, however, is what Sam wished for. Shekhar scurries down from the room, leaving the coast clear for Sam and Makkhan Singh to rescue the semi-conscious Deepa, whom they take to Honey’s room to sleep it all off.

The next morning, when Sam—who’s slept nearby, keeping a careful but very proper watch—awakes, he finds Deepa gone. She’s left behind a note, to say thank you to Sam and to tell him how ashamed she is, and how she will never be able to show her face to him again.

Deepa leaves a letter for Sam
Meanwhile, down in the lobby, Shekhar has met Jack (KN Singh, wearing, like Pran, an odd wig), and is pleading for some more time to pay Jack.

In the middle of this, Deepa—accompanied by Honey, and on her way out of the hotel—enters the lobby, and Jack is surprised: Suzie? He accosts Deepa by that name and is swiftly rebuffed. When (with Deepa having gone) Jack turns to Shekhar for an explanation, a surprise emerges. Suzie, says Jack, is the Oriental dancer at their night club.

Jack receives a shock
We’re introduced to her too [she obligingly begins her song with “I am Suzie!”]. Suzie, as anybody with half a brain would have guessed by now, is the spitting image of Deepa. Except, of course, she is a bad girl [no good girl would prance around in a nightclub with too few clothes and a jewel in her navel]. Dance over, Suzie comes over to flirt with Jack. Jack introduces her to Shekhar, and when Suzie’s bustled off to change, he tells Shekhar his plan: to kidnap Deepa and ask for a huge ransom.

Shekhar meets Suzie
And where is Deepa? Holidaying in Lebanon, where (along with Honey) she’s trying to get over Sam [and making a bad job of it]. Barely has she started to miss him, though, before Sam’s arrived too—and how!
The long and the short of it is that Sam and Deepa are soon an item. All seems tickety-boo.

Deepa and Sam
But no; Shekhar turns up one day at Suzie’s place with a proposition. Both of them, he tells her, are under Jack’s thumb; if they gang up and strike out on their own, they can break free of Jack. And set themselves up for life, with more money than anyone can imagine. All Suzie has to do is impersonate Deepa after Jack’s kidnapped the heiress.

Suzie, to whom the sound of 10 lakh dollars (the sum Shekhar promises will be hers) sounds very attractive indeed, agrees. She spends the next couple of days in Shekhar’s company, quietly spying on Deepa, learning to be Deepa. So that, when the time comes for Deepa to be kidnapped, Suzie can quietly slip into her place and nab all her money.

Suzie checks out Deepa
And all this, barely halfway through the film.

The 60s were the period of bling in Hindi cinema. Bling, not just in fashions (more on that when I’m discussing Sharmila Tagore’s costumes in An Evening in Paris), but in a more general sense, of style and oomph and all that was aspirational. For the average Indian moviegoer, going abroad was pretty much a pipe dream, so Hindi film-makers offered the vicarious pleasure of a ‘phoren’ trip: through films. Singapore (also starring Shammi Kapoor) was (one of?) the first to be filmed abroad, but it was with colour that this type of film came into its element, because it could show audiences the world in all its Eastman glory.

Some of these films had ‘social/family drama’ as themes, but the usual was a combination of romance and crime thriller (sometimes spy thriller): Aankhen, Prem Pujari, Night in London, Love in Tokyo—and An Evening in Paris. All chockfull of exotic locations, puzzled-looking foreigners who weren’t extras, and Indians in odd wigs, pretending to be foreigners—or not.

All of it not necessarily great cinema, but certainly a fun (and inexpensive) way to travel abroad without going further than the nearest cinema hall.

What I liked about this film:

The music. The Shammi Kapoor gang, Shankar-Jaikishan, gave An Evening in Paris some superb songs, from the catchy Hoga tumse kal bhi saamna and the still-popular Aasmaan se aaya farishta, to the beautifully echoing Akele akela kahaan jaa rahe ho. There’s the title song, there are two nightclub songs (Le jaa le jaa mera dil and Zooby zooby je l’aime vous, the latter particularly seductive); and there is the gloriously romantic Raat ke humsafar, which is my favourite song from the film.

Besides the fact that the songs have good tunes, I like the picturisation of Hoga tumse kal bhi saamna, Deewaane ka naam toh poochho, Akele akele kahaan jaa rahe ho, and Aasmaan se aaya farishta. Shakti Samanta—who directed An Evening in Paris—went all out with Aasmaan se aaya farishta, using everything from a helicopter and a motorboat to dozens of extras, and Shammi Kapoor matched it by being quite the daredevil, singing suspended from the chopper, or writhing about on the bow of the boat. (Hoga tumse kal bhi saamna, with Shammi and Rajinder Nath swinging their scooters with gay abandon as they whirled down a road, is along the same lines of living dangerously).

Hoga tumse kal bhi saamna
Sharmila Tagore and Shammi Kapoor. These are, individually, two of my favourite actors—and, together, they have great chemistry and are easy on the eyes. True, Shammi was going a little over the hill by the time An Evening in Paris was made, but he was still handsome.

Sharmila Tagore and Shammi Kapoor in An Evening in Paris
And Sharmila, beehive hairdo and overdone eyeliner and all, was simply gorgeous in this film. Her wardrobe was very stylish (Bollywoodeewana, are you listening? Maybe you should do a post on this). Those smart saris, embellished with embroidered or woven borders, teamed with many-stringed pearl necklaces or chokers, heavy earrings and pretty little heels—quite, quite stunning.  The Western dresses that Suzie wears are very chic, too.

What I didn’t like:

The meandering nature of the first half of the film. In the second half, An Evening in Paris gets down to business, with the story moving fairly swiftly—but the first half just goes on and on with Sam stalking Deepa and Deepa trying to get him jealous by encouraging Shekhar.

Plus, it’s never too clear about some of the villainy, and the villains don’t always make sense. (Minor spoiler coming up). For example, all those years back, what did Jaggu hope to gain by kidnapping a little girl?

Lastly, the lack of attention to detail. This takes different forms. For example, poor use of extras: near the climax, Shammi Kapoor is shown driving a motorbike, but when the motorbike spins out of control and goes off the road, the man who flies off it is quite obviously a firang extra, and not Shammi. Similarly, in the last few frames, close-ups of Sharmila Tagore (her bouffant a little windblown, but otherwise intact) is interspersed with long shots of an extra similarly clad but with very wet hair.

And what, pray, was a Heliswiss helicopter, with a Bern mark on it, doing near the Niagara Falls?

An unusual helicopter at Niagara Falls...
Still, despite that, a fairly fun film. At least, it’s good on the senses, what with all the eye candy and the good songs. And Suzie is one of the more interesting ‘bad girls’ of 60s Hindi cinema: not completely predictable, and really a more intriguing, resourceful, and feisty character than the relatively vapid Deepa.

59 thoughts on “An Evening in Paris (1967)

  1. It is a fun, fun, film, good songs, great lead couple, and yes, fab costumes. Only didn’t like the contempt with which all the good guys treated Suzie, right up to the end.


    • Well said, Banno. Yes, the contempt of the men for Suzie – and especially her own father’s (which is rather more accentuated than anybody else’s) is something that puts my back up. Worse, I always end the film thinking: “What of Suzie/Roopa now?” Because, unlike the usual ‘vamp’ or ‘bad sister’ (as in Sharmeelee), Suzie doesn’t die – last heard of, she’s merely unconscious and Makkhan Singh is fetching a doctor. So what happens to Suzie? Does her father accept her? Does she find another man who loves her and whom she loves?

      There should’ve been a sequel to this.


      • Yes, a sequel would have been interesting. The father really riled me, he seemed to blame Suzie for what she was, with no sympathy for the fact that she was lost as a child.


        • True. It wasn’t Suzie’s fault that she was kidnapped and brought up to be a dancer. One would have expected a father to have more sympathy for her. I can imagine that his initial reaction might have been of shock, but I’d have forgiven that if he’d realised that this ‘fallen’ woman was, after all, his own little Roopa. Vile man.


    • anybody can watch this movie for its visuals and sharmila shammi in it. while watching i realise i have watched this place in sangam too. my favourite song of this is raat k humsafar thak k ghar ko chaley.


  2. Makes me want to watch the filmm right away.
    You review made me laugh all through it!
    60s films were like that,w eren’t they? first half tug-of-war between the hero and heroine and the second half things start happening very fast, bole to madder, blackmail and the works. That is why we love them! :)
    Great review!


    • “bole to madder, blackmail and the works.

      Hehe. Absolutely! I must confess, though, that I prefer the films where the action and the suspense begin a little earlier in the film. Like Teesri Manzil or Shikar – the romance is interspersed with the jasoosi, so one doesn’t have to wait!

      Do watch this film if you get a chance, Harvey. It’s quite good paisa vasool, warts and all, :-)


  3. hehehe! Loved reading the review Madhu. :-)
    I haven’t seen this film, because Sharmila Tagore’s hairdo scares me.
    But the songs are fun and good to listen to.


  4. The 60s were all about shooting abroad, to take full advantage of Eastman colour. Government permission for forex was difficult to get and the allowances were niggardly, but when did that stop the resourceful Indian producer. Think Around the World, Sangam and the many films you have mentioned. Sharmila had come from a very uppity, refined Bengali background but she stunned the world with her bikini (also seen on the cover of Filmfare.) The bouffant, the curlicue on her cheek and that affected Hindi speech; she became a hit right away. You are so right Madhulika, Shammi Kapoor was already ageing, not the least because of all that weight he had put on. BTW, he had once told me he was so scared to go on that helicopter that he drank and drank so that he overcame his fear.


    • I can well imagine that Shammi would have needed something to bolster his courage for that daredevil swing from the helicopter! Thanks for sharing that, Sidharth – I hadn’t known about that.

      No bikini on Sharmila in that song, by the way – a slinky one-piece, but that was about it. On the Filmfare cover, yes:

      Incidentally, while watching this film, I was struck by the same thought: Sharmila Tagore, so completely bhadralok – and beginning her career with no less than Satyajit Ray, too. And see where she was here! Quite a transformation. ;-)


  5. Lovely review! An Evening in Paris is an all time favorite of mine.Handsome Shammi and gorgeous Sharmila, exotic locations,fabulous songs;what could one ask more :) .” Raat ke humsafar” is such a wonderful song! The character of Suzie is my favorite.
    Lol at Pran wearing a orangey-yellow wig (he had made use of various kind of them throughout his career).
    A little bit oft trivia: The scene in which Shammi pays a boy in Switzerland to kick his shin to so that he can be treated by Deepa was was inspired from the film “It Happened at the World’s Fair” starring Elvis Presley and the boy who kicked his shin in that movie grew up as the famous actor Kurt Russell……..


    • I am lucky, to be getting so much interesting trivia about this film! First Sidharth shared that anecdote about Aasmaan se aaya farishta and now you tell me about that bit with the boy kicking Shammi in the shins – I didn’t know that. Thank you. :-D Now I must watch It Happened at the World’s Fair

      (I wondered who that child who kicked Shammi in the shins was. Wonder if he grew up to be a famous actor too!)


    • And here I was, thinking the score of An Evening in Paris was a good original score… I hadn’t heard Man of Mystery before. Shankar-Jaikishan didn’t play around much with that one, did they? It’s very recognizable as the same tune.


      • The same tune was also used by Shankar-Jaikishan previously in Sangam (1964) – it’s the scene where Raj Kapoor and Vyjayanthimala are out and about in Paris and bickering over what to buy (purse vs. bagpipe).


    • I agree; An Evening in Paris is too riddled with plot holes (and just sheer lagginess in the first half) to make it a good film – in fact, there are lots of Shammi Kapoor films that I rate more highly than this one, if only because they’re scripted better. But still, I like it because of the songs and the prettiness. :-)


  6. What a delightful review, Madhu, of a delightful film (yes, potholes and all). I had watched this film again last month just before I wrote the Sharmila post, and found much to like in it, though I agree with you about the first half (and Deepa’s ‘Indian maid’ costume).

    I found Suzy so much more intriguing than Deepa, actually. Deepa was a pest, but oh, what a lovely, lovely one! She was amazingly beautiful and well-turned out in this one. But I liked that they show Suzy not just flirting with Jack, but it is mentioned she is his girlfriend, and she seems pretty happy being so. I wish they had gone a bit further to explore that relationship and why (and how) she falls for Sam, but I suppose you couldn’t have a ‘bad’ girl have her reasons to live and love the way she does. I like that she has some amount of self-respect, given the contempt with which Sam treats her (as Banno pointed out). In fact, I reference her in one of my future posts (inspired by one of your recent posts! *grin*).


    • “I reference her in one of my future posts

      I can’t wait to read! Hurry, please, hurry! :-D

      Deepa is gorgeous, but yes, she’s pretty much the run-of-the-mill Hindi film heroine of the 60s, no? Mostly there just to pout (and show off her dimples, in Sharmila’s case) and be kidnapped by the villain. Suzie is definitely much more interesting, and I like the fact that she’s got more than one dimension to her (your comment about her seeming to be pretty happy with Jack is something I agree with). What impresses me is that she has the guts to admit that she’s a bad girl (even if it means that she has to be overtly shown to be so, what with her cigarettes and daaru and wanting to kiss her man before she’s married… *rolling eyes*). Yet she’s actually human enough to fall in love with another woman’s fiance (and wicked enough to want to blackmail him into marrying her!). Oh, I could go on discussing Suzie.


  7. I saw Evening in Paris not when it released but much later in life. It was one of those typical sixties masala films, I will not say I liked it all that much but yes these films had their entertaining moments and yes Sharmila despite her over the top make-up and hair style was quite enjoyable. At this point of time when I watch these films, it is like travelling back in time, particularly when I see the furniture on the sets and the general set design. It makes me realize how things have changed. People often copied the design and had similar furniture at home those days.


    • Yes, this was pretty typical 60s masala, representative of the lifestyle of an upper middle class, what with all that jet-setting and foreign jaunts and all. At least aspirational for the bulk of the audience, if nothing else.

      I remember my parents having furniture and curtains similar to the sort that appeared in some of these films! Obviously more cheaply made, but one could see the resemblance. And old photos of my mother from the 60s have her looking very similar to the look of the actresses of this time – beehive hairdo, the style of draping the sari, even the sari – silk, with a woven or embroidered border – very like what one saw on screen.


  8. Really enjoyed your review and was chuckling all the way through. I have never seen the film and all your review made me want to do was look forward to your next review, but not to see the film. I like the music in the film and so will talk about it. No Lata in this film – not very common in SJ films. My absolute favorite is “Raat ke humsafar”. The “My name is Suzie” song is a nice tune (copied as it is – something I did not know till I saw the other comment), but I wish Shankar had given it to somebody who could carry a tune without bum notes. Why oh why did he not give it to Asha Bhonsle like he did with “Zuby zuby zulebu” (who is that picturized on btw?).

    Now about Sharmila – you mentioned that you are a huge fan of hers Madhu. Unfortunately, I am not. I found her acting and latke-jhatke very overdone. One film of hers that I love is Satyajit Ray’s “Seemabadhha”; well I am very very very fond of the film and she is very good in it. And in Hindi, I liked her in “Amar prem”. I had remembered liking it as a child and thought I would re-visit it as an adult. The film surprisingly stood up to my (by now) very critical eye with nice performances by both Rajesh Khanna and Sharmila. Aradhana did not do well when I revisited it except for Farida Jalal for whom I have always had a soft corner. I kept wanting to fast forward to the songs and skip the film in between.

    Shammi Kapoor could make almost any role work for him just with his style. I know a lot of people that thought he was good looking. I never got that part, but then again, I am a guy :-) But he had tremendous charisma and presence on screen even when he was being downright goofy.

    Keep those reviews coming.


    • I am a fan of Sharmila’s for different reasons, not always for her acting. I don’t particularly like her acting in Aradhana, for instance, but I thought she was excellent in Anupama, or even in later films like Chupke-Chupke or Mausam. In An Evening in Paris, she doesn’t have an opportunity to do much acting since her roles are pretty average – Suzie is the more interesting character and so allows a better display of Sharmila’s acting, but still… I love her in this movie because she’s so very pretty. :-)

      ” I never got that part, but then again, I am a guy :-)

      Hah! Then you’d better not comment! :-D (Frankly, though, he was looking rather jaded by the time Teesri Manzil happened – mostly because of all the weight he’d put on. He’s delicious in Professor and Junglee).

      Yes, Le jaa le jaa mera dil would have been far far better if Asha had sung it. Sharda’s is a voice I can’t bear. Unfortunately, she bagged a couple of songs that I like a lot otherwise – Jaan-e-chaman shola badan is another).

      Zooby zooby je l’aime vous is picturised on Sharmila. Or is there someone among the extras you couldn’t recognise? *puzzled*


      • I have never seen the film or the picturization of the song. Since the composers went with 2 different singers – Sharda and Asha, I was wondering if that was because it was picturized on different characters. I thought Zuby Zuby seemed like a Suzie song rather than Deepa. Maybe that assumption was wrong to begin with.
        As for the Shammi Kapoor comment, despite all the other nice things I said, I realize that I hit a nerve. So back pedal, back pedal, back pedal :-)


        • Zooby zooby je l’aime vous is a Suzie song, not a Deepa one. But since both Suzie and Deepa are played by Sharmila… yes, it’s picturised on her.

          Hehe. :-) No, even if you didn’t outright gush over Shammi Kapoor, I’m fine with that; what a boring world if all of us agreed! (I’d rather you did, but I can understand that you can’t) *wink*


  9. I just watched this on B4U this morning. It’s a very fun film I had a blat watching it. Sure, it has a lot of plot holes and it gets pretty OTT–like the naukrani bit and the picturization of “asaman se aaya farishta” (but that’s what we love about cinema!) but even with all that it’s still a pretty fun film.

    Also–I could be way off on this–but I think that Suzie’s cabaret number “Zooby zooby je l’aime vous” may actually be Shankar Jaikishan’s take on the French song “zou bisou bisou” [Oh kiss kiss]. I remember in grade school we used to sing it in music class (I had to go to a French school for 8 years). To me it sounds like the gibberish version of “zou bisou bisou, mon Dieu qu’ils sont deux” [oh kiss kiss, my God they’re soft] the beat structure of the words sounds about the same. The rest of the song isn’t though, I mean the Gillian Hill version has a pretty soft beat where as the film’s version is fast paced and loud. According to my grandmother it was actually quite a popular song (especially here in Canada) back in the early 1960s when it was released. So going by my ear, and the fact that the song was quite popular I would think that musicians such as Shankar Jaikishan would have at least been somewhat aware of the French song, and given Bollywood’s track record of ‘borrowing’ musical styles/melodies and the fact that this is a film from the 60s set in France I wouldn’t be surprised if they were using at least some part of the Gillian Hill track as inspiration.


    • I’m glad you enjoyed An Evening in Paris! Yes, plot holes and ‘over-the-top’ness aside, it’s a load of fun. Not my favourite of Shammi Kapoor’s films, but by no means one of the worst, as far as I’m concerned.

      Thank you for pointing me to Gillian Hill’s Zoo bisou bisou. I’d never heard of it, so this was totally new to me! Managed to find it on Youtube, too:

      …and while I don’t think the music of the An Evening in Paris song is much like it, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to discover that the pivotal lyrics are derived from this song.


      • After actually listening to the song I agree with you, the music isn’t anything like zou bisou bisou but I do think the main chorus is definitely “inspired” by it (maybe I’m saying the lyrics over and over to myself in the beat of zou bisou bisou?). Either way inspired is the key word–I’m pretty sure directly translating “Oh kiss kiss! My God they’re so soft” is a bit risque for the 1960s censors. It probably would have led to the censor board cutting the song from the film (after all wasn’t Suzie’ costume scandalous enough lol).


        • I have grave doubts that the Censor Board back then would’ve known what Zou bisou bisou meant, or would even have bothered to find out. ;-) For them – as for almost everybody – I’m guessing those were just nice-sounding but virtually intelligible foreign words. As in the start (and chorus) of Dil ki manzil kuchh aisi hai manzil:


          • Shakti Samanta used Beirut to cut off the overheads in two songs of the movie, (hoga tumse kal bhi saamna and Aasman se aaya farishta). Even Lebanese Air Force provided it’s helicopter for the shooting of Aasman se aaya farishta song, as courtesy. Lebanon was big market for Indian films those days and Shakti had tough time controlling crowds at the locations in Beirut.


  10. I want to ask is there any scene which exactly shows Eiffel tower. watched this movie years ago. and realised the scene i have seen in sangam. but sangam shows inside of Eiffel tower too. its my observation that our actress didn’t had good hairs. they wore wigs , hair extension. they looked beautiful due to their faces. if we wear these hairdos we will look funny and as they were pretty by look we never felt that hairdos are not good n our attention was taken by their faces . i was blessed with world ‘s best hairs but i still looked average.


      • i will watch sangam, an evening in pairs to see Eiffel Tower looks best in which movie ?? when i watched Eiffel tower in purab aur paschim i realised what it means to stand in front of it. In sangam when they go upwards I just loved it.


  11. sharmila had a style of her own to take a very short palla which became very famous. one example of this can be movie aavishkar. i liked this style.


  12. if anybody wants to see how foreign locations can be wasted one should watch around the world duniya ki sair kar lo song.. i will be honest the song doesn’t leave any impact. i have not watched the movie. but when i watched the song the focus was to mention the places of foreign locations like disney land , los angles and paris london and all. with mukesh and sharda singing. its obvious with foreign locations that western music suits and even strong back round music is alone enough. when i watched the song around the world in eight dollars i thought that other singers could have taken plus with more fast music. i really disliked the song but i got to know that beautiful fountains belong to london which i appreciate.. on Effiel tower if we watch sangam.. lift is shown going upwards and all. think the beauty of tower is lost and its like we are watching some kind of crane machine. shakti samanta did great job.


  13. I am awestruck every time I listen to ‘Deewane ka naam to poocho’ and the title song. Shankar-Jaikishan’s songs are what they are mainly because of the orchestra! I have always wondered who has played the accordion in these 2 songs. Was is Nanji Bahadur? Yes, Dattaram was their assistant music director and Sebastian D’Souza used to arrange their music. If someone could shed light on this! The album was a hit, but, in my humble opinion, these 2 songs stand apart in terms of orchestration.


      • hoga tumse kal bhi samna… On the outskirts of Beirut.
        Title song An Evening in Paris was mostly shot in St Pauli in Hamburg, with some shots of Paris during interlude.
        Tere dil hai mere… Beirut and Niagara in Canada
        Akele Akale.. in Murren, near Interlaken in Switzerland
        Aasman se aaya farishta.. Beirut
        Raat ke humsafar… Paris
        The final helicopter scene is shot at Rhinefalls near Zurich, that’s why the Swiss Helicopter, based in Bern.


  14. Soon after An Evening in Paris, Aankhe with Dharmendra and Mala Sinha was shot in Beirut… famous song tujho rakhe Ram tujko Allaha Rakhe.. was shot at same location of Tera dil hai mere.
    Night in London also had some shooting in Beirut.


  15. What a beautiful film this was – almost a snapshot of how Indians travelled abroad and settled, and gave way to what we know today as third and fourth generation “foreigners” of Indian descent: this is the western world they were in. Also, so nice to see everyone so happy in this film, i’m 17 myself and watched this out of interest, but just makes me so happy seeing this. This period up until the late 2000s was a golden period for Hindi cinema – always making movies with lessons and aspiration of some sort.


    • Yes, it’s fun to see what Indians abroad back in the 60s were like – or at least what Hindi film makers thought they were like! So much a way of living the high life vicariously. If you can’t afford to travel abroad, let the films do it for you, and show you all the sights.


  16. Coincidently, the Boeing 707 shown at the start of the film (for Air India) had a stock standard route (in order) from Delhi –> Beirut –> Geneva (Switzerland) –> London. This could explain the chosen filming locations in the film (apart from Niagara and Paris)


  17. Also, in the song “Hoga Tumse Kal Bhi Samna”, do you know (just out of curiosity) if the young men and ladies accompanying Shammi Kapoor and the crew, are local Lebanese invited to participate in shooting, or Indians brought over to fill in for this song video?


  18. Great review of the film 👍🏼

    Does anybody know the name of the tourist bus/company who ran the double decker bubble bus (Just my description) shown in ‘Deewane ka naam to poocho’ ?
    Looked Uber luxurious – couldn’t see it on the web.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.