Category Archives: Uncategorized

Sapphire (1959)

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Not even half an hour into this 1959 British film, directed by Basil Dearden, and I was wondering: “Why isn’t this one better-known? How come I hadn’t heard of it before?”

Having finished watching Sapphire, I think I know the answers to those questions. It’s not as if Sapphire is an obscure film; in Britain, in knowledgeable film circles, it’s probably fairly well-respected, given that it won the BAFTA Award for Best Film in 1960. But here in India, while British cinema of earlier years (Hitchcock’s early cinema, the films of Laurence Olivier and Leslie Howard in the 30s and 40s, for instance) were the stuff of my childhood film-watching—thanks to Doordarshan, which would air the great classics—by the 1950s and 60s, the cinema that seemed to be most popular was Hollywood. I am not talking of what English-language films were actually screened in India back then; I am talking of the 50s and 60s English-language films that were aired by Doordarshan in the 1980s and early 90s, when much of my film-watching was on TV.

Anyway, better late than never, I guess. I finally watched Sapphire (because of a serendipitous discovery on YouTube; the film is available here). And this, I can safely say, is one of the more unusual noir films I’ve seen. While it is a solid police procedural, a whodunnit revolving round a murdered woman, it is, too, a comment on society, on norms, what is right and what is wrong.

The story begins on Hamstead Heath, where two little children, playing with their ball, tumble onto the body of a young woman (Yvonne Buckingham) who’s been stabbed to death. The police are called in, and Chief Inspector Bob Hazard (Nigel Patrick) comes with his team to examine the scene of crime. The young woman’s body is taken away for autopsy.

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The LO goes to Rajasthan, Part 1: Sariska

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Given that we live in the National Capital Region, Rajasthan, rich in culture and natural beauty, would seem like the perfect destination for a holiday—but I guess here it’s a case of ghar ki murghi daal baraabar; familiarity breeds contempt. We invariably think of Rajasthan as a place we can always visit, after we’ve exhausted the places further away, the destinations more exciting and more exotic.

Also, I guess, because my husband and I, on multiple trips over the years before our daughter (the Little One, or LO) came into our lives, had visited a good bit of Rajasthan. We weren’t especially interested in revisiting the same places again and again.

But it has struck me recently that the LO really should get to see Rajasthan beyond Bharatpur—Keoladeo Ghana, Abhaneri’s Chand Baori, and the Neemrana Fort Palace, all of which she’s been to. All, by the way, before she turned three, so she has no recollection of any of these. Some more colourful culture, I thought, was in order. And more wildlife.

At Sariska: sambhar deer and peafowl
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Jaagte Raho: A Night of Truth

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(Click through to read my post on Learning and Creativity’s Silhouette Magazine)

December 14th 2024 marked the birth centenary of actor/film-maker Raj Kapoor. I commemorated the day by posting a review of one of my favourite Raj Kapoor films (as an actor, not a director), the delightful Chori Chori. Simultaneously, the online magazine for cinema, art and literature, Silhouette, was hosting a month-long extravaganza on Raj Kapoor, the man, his films, his music, and more. The event is on till January 13th.

As part of this online celebration, I too was invited to contribute an article (as Anu, who curated the event, said: “I know there are RK movies you like!”). I chose to write on Jaagte Raho, a film I’d seen earlier (and reviewed, on this blog), and which I had liked enough to now want to rewatch it, and review. On purpose, I did not revisit my earlier blog post; I approached the film with new eyes, and found myself liking it even more than I had the last time.

Here, then, is my review of Jaagte Raho. Do also check out the other articles that form part of this RK fiesta: lots of good stuff here!

Bedazzled (1967)

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If, like me, you were old enough to be watching films in 2000—and you watched Hollywood films—you might have come across the Brendan Fraser-Elizabeth Hurley comedy Bedazzled. It was about a geeky, socially inept but otherwise sweet fellow (Fraser) who makes a pact with the Devil (Hurley), who promises to grant him seven wishes in return for his soul. Unfortunately for our hero, all his wishes come to nought, leaving him even more distressed than he was originally. It was a funny film, and Brendan Fraser, in my opinion, shone as a comic actor.

I discovered, a few weeks ago, that the 2000 Bedazzled, directed by Harold Ramis, was actually a remake of a 1967 British film of the same name. Directed by Stanley Donen, Bedazzled was based on a story by Peter Cook and Dudley Moore, who also acted as the leads in the film: Dudley as Stanley Moon, Peter as the Devil.

The story begins in a church, where Stanley is praying very hard that God give him a sign. Something to assure a despondent Stanley that there is someone listening.

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Ten of my favourite cosmetics songs

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This song list actually had its genesis many years ago, when I posted my list of jewellery songs. Back then, it had occurred to me that there were also songs that celebrated other ways (less expensive ways!) of adorning oneself. Cosmetics, most of them the ‘traditional’ ones, rather than those that came to us, along with their names, from the West, are not all that uncommon in Hindi film songs. And with reason: after all, romance plays a major part in old Hindi cinema, and where there is romance, there is shringaar ras: the very essence of attraction. A woman (mostly, though there are instances of men too) is often praised for her beauty, and that beauty is accentuated by cosmetics: by kaajal (kohl) in the eyes, mehendi on the hands, sindoor in the parting of the hair, and so on.

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Announcing a New Book: Gardens of Delhi

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This is a once-in-a-lifetime occasion for me: two books being launched in the same month. For someone who usually only has a new book coming out every two years (if that), it’s a very unusual thing to have not one, but two, books being released within a couple of weeks of each other.

Some of you might know that I have an elder sister, Swapna Liddle, who (like me) is an author. Like me, too, Swapna is deeply interested in history. That, however, is where the resemblance ends. Swapna is a much-respected historian and all her books have been well-researched, immensely insightful works on the history of Delhi (her field of specialization is Delhi of the 19th century). I, of course, primarily write fiction, when I’m writing in the long form: non-fiction, in the form of travelogues, book reviews and film writing, are reserved for short form articles.

This is where we finally come together: in a book about the gardens of Delhi.

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Police (1958)

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If you’ve been reading this blog some years, you probably know by now that I am a fan of Madhubala’s. I’ve watched most of her films (several of which I have not got around to reviewing on this blog), I’ve done lists of my favourite songs of hers, and I have waxed eloquent every now and then about how much I like her.

One of the things I dislike about much of the online (at least) raving about Madhubala is that the praise is invariably just about her beauty. How gorgeous, how exquisite. Yes, indeed; but Madhubala’s beauty, I think, often comes in the way of people appreciating what a good actress she was, too. Watch her performances in films like Mughal-e-Azam and Amar, for instance, and if you can look past her face, you will see how well she holds her own against heavyweight thespians like Dilip Kumar and Prithviraj Kapoor.

And she was a fantastic comedienne too. The madcap way she matches Kishore Kumar in Chalti ka Naam Gaadi, for example. Or her airhead character in Mr & Mrs 55. Interestingly, Madhubala is often compared to Marilyn Monroe, almost entirely on the basis of their beauty and popularity; but I think the two stars had one more thing in common: both could portray the ditzy beauty very well. This, in fact, is just the type of woman Manju, of Police, is: nutty, silly, a clown. But so endearing too (and, it goes without saying, so gorgeous).

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What’s named after Dara Singh?

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A reblog of an old post, from when my blog was only a couple of months old.

Reblogged, because there’s an addition to this list.

After many years of thinking I knew all the obscure (and not) ways in which popular actors are immortalised in everyday objects, I had a moment of serendipity—an unexpected addition to this all-too-short list.

The other day, our gardener turned up, bringing with him a rather nice-looking plant with glossy striped green leaves. Would we like to keep it, he asked my husband. It’s a good indoor plant. We really don’t need any more indoor plants (we have plenty as it is), so we declined, but my husband asked him, out of curiosity, what it was called.

“Dara Singh ka paudha,” he said. Dara Singh’s plant.
Why on earth?
“Bahut shaktishaali hai,” he explained. “Marta nahin hai.” It’s very hardy, doesn’t die.

Later, when I had some time, I checked the plant out on Google Lens, and the penny dropped. This, to give it its botanical name, is Dracaena fragrans. Dra-caena, which has a similar set of syllables to ‘Dara Singh’, barring that g at the end. In a country where we have gardeners mangling names of plants left, right and centre (a friend has ‘begum bailiya’ flowering profusely in her home, another looks forward to pansotia at Christmastime), this is hardly unexpected.

Anyway, so we’ve said no to Dara Singh’s plant. But I’ve learnt something new in the process.

https://madhulikaliddle.com/2009/01/22/if-only-i-were-a-film-star/?page_id=677

Announcing a New Book: An Unholy Drought (The Delhi Quartet, Book #2)

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Back in November 2021, my publisher, Speaking Tiger, released the first novel in my four-book The Delhi Quartet, a series of novels that will tell the stories of a group of interconnected families against a backdrop of 800 years of Delhi’s history. That book, The Garden of Heaven, was set in the early years of the Delhi Sultanat, beginning four years before Mohammad of Ghur attacked Delhi and wrested power from the ruling Rajputs. The Garden of Heaven spanned around 200 years, and its story was narrated by a woman, Shagufta. Shagufta, who tells the story of her ancestors to a wounded enemy soldier (one of the attacking army of Taimur), whom she has (against her better judgment) saved and succored.

Cut to 150 years later. 1556. A terrible drought grips the north Indian plains, even as a thirteen-year-old Jalaluddin Mohammad Akbar tries to maintain a grip on the throne he has inherited after the sudden death of his father Humayun. There is uncertainty, instability—and death could be right round the corner.

In Delhi, an old calligrapher named Nadeem sets out to document the story of his family. Along with his teenaged grandson Mohsin, Nadeem chronicles their history, beginning with the tale of Daanish, the son of Shagufta (from The Garden of Heaven).

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Paigham (1959)

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This is a film that’s been on my radar for a while now. Dilip Kumar, Vyjyanthimala. A cast also boasting of Motilal and Johnny Walker. Some good songs. Paigham, I thought, might be worth a watch.

I will admit, though, that my heart sank a bit when I saw the opening credits and discovered that this is a Gemini Studios release. Like AVM, I now approach Gemini with trepidation: while their films often had great casts and excellent music, they were invariably just too melodramatic for my liking.

But I persevered.

Paigham begins by introducing us to Manju (Vyjyanthimala) who, along with her best friend Malti (B Saroja Devi), has just finished college: Manju at the top of her class, Malti at the bottom. Malti isn’t fazed by this; she’s a wealthy girl, her father Seth Sewakram (Motilal) a prosperous cotton mill-owner. Malti, in fact, has promised Manju that she will ask her father to give Manju (who’s done a course in shorthand and secretarial work) a job at the cotton mill, which is in a town named Rangpur.  

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