I am occasionally inclined to see a film simply because I adore one particular song of the film. Unfortunately, I score more hits than misses using this criterion. Saranga (1960) is a case in point—it has the classic Saranga teri yaad mein nain hue bechain (one of the few hit songs of Anu Malik’s father, Sardar Malik), but not much else. With Usne Kaha Tha, I had better luck. The lovely Aha rimjhim ke yeh pyaare-pyaare geet liye is a wonderful song, and the film itself is an interesting one.
There are some things I have very little patience with while I’m watching a film. Weepiness, for instance. Precocious children for another. Endless bhajans (unless the bhajan in question happens to be of the calibre of Allah tero naam or Man tadpat hari darshan). Mindless self-sacrificing which can’t possibly benefit anyone.
And much more. Beti, unfortunately, has all of these in ample doses. I saw it primarily because I like the lead pair (Nanda is an old favourite, and I haven’t given up on Sanjay Khan, despite the lamentable Ek Phool Do Maali). And when a film lists Rajendranath, Shyama and Asit Sen in its cast, one can hope for lots of entertainment.
Or so I thought.
Love in Tokyo was before my time, but I can well imagine what its trailer should’ve been:
Japanese gardens! Asha Parekh in a kimono! Joy Mukherji in a wet shirt! Mehmood as a geisha! Mehmood as an Arab doctor! Mehmood as a nawab! Mehmood as Asit Sen!
And so on and so forth. It probably would’ve mentioned a few other attractions: Pran as a lecherous villain (so what’s new?), Lalita Pawar as a tyrannical matriarch with a soft heart (ditto), surprise revelations, a gold digger without a conscience, and a comic side plot without a shred of sense in it.
In spite of all that lunacy, though, this is an entertaining film with a certain mad charm about it.
There are some films I see because of the people who act in them (Shammi Kapoor, Asha Parekh, Mumtaz, Dharmendra, etc). Some I see because of the people who direct them (Guru Dutt, Vijay Anand, Raj Khosla). Some—relatively few—I see simply because of the music (Parasmani, Aah, Saranga—pretty awful otherwise, but great music).
And then there are some I see because they’re a bit of it all. Like Kabuliwala. The story’s by Rabindranath Tagore, it’s produced by Bimal Roy (directed by Hemen Gupta), it stars Balraj Sahni, and it has one of the loveliest patriotic songs I’ve ever heard: Ae mere pyaare watan.
Asit Sen directed some of my favourite films, including Mamta and Safar. I’ve just added another to the list: Anokhi Raat. I’d wanted to see this film for two reasons: one, it stars Sanjeev Kumar, who’s one of my favourite actors. Two, it features the classic Oh re taal mile nadi ke jal mein: a beautifully lyrical song in more ways than one. By the end, I had plenty more reasons to label it a great film. Read on.
Dustedoff 