Last week, to commemorate the 100th birth anniversary of Raj Kapoor, I reviewed my favourite film of his as an actor: Chori Chori, which was a remake (uncredited) of It Happened One Night. I had seen Chori Chori before; I had also seen It Happened One Night before, though in both cases, I had not reviewed the film in question.
Since I’ve finally reviewed Chori Chori, it seemed to me about time I reviewed It Happened One Night as well (which is why there’s also a comparison with Chori Chori further along in this post). Directed and co-produced by Frank Capra, this film was based on a short story, Night Bus, by Samuel Hopkins Adams. It is generally regarded as the first ever screwball comedy, having pretty much invented the genre; it was also the first of only three films so far to have won all five major Oscars: Best Picture, Best Actress, Best Actor, Best Director and Best Adapted Screenplay.
But, to start at the beginning: on a private yacht moored off the coast at Miami, where Ellen ‘Ellie’ Andrews (Claudette Colbert) has been confined by her banker father (Walter Connolly). Mr Andrews disapproves, unreservedly, of Ellie’s having gotten married to a man named King Westley (Jameson Thomas), whom he (Mr Andrews) is convinced is a rotter: only interested in Ellie’s wealth, nothing else.
Happy 100th birthday to one of India’s greatest film makers, Raj Kapoor!
RK was born in Peshawar on December 14th, 1924. What can I say about him that hasn’t already been said or written, and by people much more erudite, well-informed, and more fond of RK’s cinema than I am? Yes; I will admit that I am not the greatest of Raj Kapoor’s fans, but let us keep the whys and the wherefores of that, the debates and the discussions, for another time. As Anu Warrier (of Conversations over Chai, not just a fellow blogger I admire hugely, but also an RK fan) said “I know there are RK films you like!”: and for RK’s birth centenary, I decided it was high time I finally reviewed an RK film that I particularly like.
I have watched Chori Chori several times, and always with great satisfaction. Even though it starred Raj Kapoor (opposite Nargis, moreover), the film is not at all the sort of film RK was known for: this was the light-hearted romp that younger brother Shammi was to go on to make his own. A road trip, a pampered heiress, a romance. Lots of songs, great chemistry.
In English, ‘Give and Take’.
I read a review of this Uttam Kumar-Tanuja starrer many years ago, and, ever since, I’ve been wanting to watch Deya Neya. All this time, I had never been able to get a subtitled version of it, but now there’s one (thank you, Angel), and I wasted no time in watching it.
The story begins in Lucknow, where Proshanto Roy (Uttam Kumar) lives with his parents: his very successful and wealthy industrialist father BK Roy (Kamal Mitra) and doting mother (Chhaya Devi). Mr Roy has Proshanto working at the office, doing accounts; but Proshanto is never to be found at work, and it riles his father up no end.
At the time I got married I was working on a freelance project. The project was nearly complete, but I needed to let my client know some last details. In the course of our meeting, I mentioned that I wouldn’t be available for the next month, because I was getting married and would be away. “How long have you known your husband-to-be?” the client asked after he’d congratulated me. When I mentioned three years, he grinned. “Good,” he said. “I went to a wedding the other day, where the couple had known each other three days.”
We had a laugh over that, and wondered how long that marriage would last. I was reminded, too, of the old adage about marrying in haste and repenting at leisure.
But, really, what risks do you run if you marry someone in the heat of the moment, without really knowing that much about them? What if you later find that you share very little in common? Or, worse, that there are downright scary people in your spouse’s life?
I remember watching a fair bit of Soviet cinema as a child. This was back in the late 1970s and 80s, when India and the USSR were bosom buddies. Soviet children’s literature filled our bookshelves and the occasional Soviet Film Festival meant that even before I turned 10, I’d already seen English-dubbed Russian cartoons. Later, when we got a TV, we saw several classics—Anna Karenina, War and Peace, and the like—on Doordarshan. Those, sadly (yes, literally sadly!) left me with a lasting impression of Soviet Cinema = Moroseness, Morbidity, Unrelenting Angst.
It struck me the other day that that couldn’t be all. So I set out to see what I could unearth, and I discovered several films that I liked a lot. Devchata (The Girls) is one of them.
Doris Day, Rock Hudson and Tony Randall acted together in three films: Pillow Talk, Lover Come Back, and Send Me No Flowers. Since I’d already reviewed the other two, I decided it was time to complete the trio with a re-view and a review of Pillow Talk, the first of the Day-Hudson-Randall films.
Here’s how:
(a) Look like Marilyn Monroe/Betty Grable/Lauren Bacall
(b) Dress as if you were already married to that millionaire
(c) When asked the definition of scruples, open those baby blues wide and say “Huh?”
(d) Be very, very lucky
…which more or less sums up the `strategy’ the three protagonists of this film use to try and hook great (read wealthy) husbands for themselves.
Dustedoff 