Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Javed. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Javed. Sort by date Show all posts

Monday, March 30, 2015

Amitabh's breakthrough: Zanjeer


Zanjeer (Chains, 1973) is not the kind of film my partner and I normally seek out, and a glance at the blood, guns, knives, and angry grimaces on the poster will tell you why. But Zanjeer holds such a significant place in Hindi cinema that we thought it was worth a look.

Ranjit (M. Rajan) is involved in the illicit trade in fake medicines. When he emerges from prison to discover that his daughter has died due to an injection of the very product he's been peddling, though, he decides that he wants out of the business. But Ranjit's bosses aren't willing to let him go—he knows too much about their operation—and they send a hit man to eliminate him. Ranjit's son Vijay witnesses the brutal murder of his parents by a man wearing a chain bracelet with a white horse symbol:



Orphaned, Vijay is taken in and raised by the upright Police Inspector Singh (Iftekhar). Twenty years later, Vijay has grown into Amitabh Bachchan, an honest cop in a world full of corruption and crime.


His battle against evil is a lonely and dangerous one. Once the local gang boss Teja (Ajit)—who not only distributes adulterated medicines, but also adulterated booze—discovers that Vijay isn't deceived by respectable appearances and can't be bought, he frames him to make it look as though he is taking a bribe. The honest and compassionate Vijay is sent to prison for corruption.

But this just makes Vijay more determined to bring down those who sent him there. Months later, when he is released, he resumes his crusade. Teja, angry that Vijay hasn't gotten the message, orders him to be savagely beaten and left for dead. But Teja and his gang come to regret that they didn't finish the job...

Vijay does have a few allies in his battle against Teja's vast criminal enterprise. There is De Silva (Om Prakash), whose sons died after being poisoned by Teja's "whiskey." De Silva seems like a harmless drunk, and so he is ignored by the gang. But since they don't pay him any attention he is able to see and hear all about the gang's plans, and he telephones Vijay with information about their next moves.

Mala (Jaya Bhaduri) is an itinerant knife-sharpener. She is a prime witness when one of the gang's liquor trucks speeds through a checkpoint and plows into a group of schoolkids. Reluctantly, Jaya agrees to identify the driver; murderously pursued by the gang, she seeks shelter with Vijay. He takes her to the home of his step-brother and wife for safekeeping. But as Vijay and Mala are thrown into each others' company, tender feelings begin to develop between them...



"Deewane hain" (We crazy ones) was composed by Kalyanji-Anandji, with lyrics by Gulshan Bawra, and sung by Mohd. Rafi and Lata Mangeshkar.

Just remember that (to paraphrase Chekhov) if in the first act a knife is sharpened, in the third act it must wind up in someone's back—hurled there by Mala.

Vijay's other ally is Sher Khan (Pran). Sher Khan ran a gambling den that was broken up by Vijay. After the two have a brutal but honorable bare-knuckle fight that leaves them both dazed, they become fast friends. Sher Khan closes his establishment, becomes an honest auto mechanic and Vijay's two-fisted backup.

This is the first film that made us really notice Pran, who (both before Zanjeer and after) mainly played villains. We had seen him (without giving him special attention) in other classic films: Ram aur Shyam (1967), Bobby (1973), Don (1978). But Sher Khan is so memorable because he is such a delightful and strongly positive character: tough, fearless, and loyal, as he demonstrates in "Yaari Hai Imaan Mera" (Friendship is my honor, friends are my life; Pran's playback singer is Manna Dey):



With friends like these can Vijay's ultimate discovery of the identity of his parents' murderer, and his victory over Teja and his gang, ever be in doubt?

Zanjeer has a key place in Amitabh's career because he had not previously had a great deal of success as a leading man. It also has a key place in the career of the heroine, Jaya Bhaduri. At the time she was a more successful actor than he was; she had had several hits and had already won a Filmfare Award. It was something of a risk for her to appear with him, but (already in love with him, thanks to their work together on Bansi Birju the year before) she didn't hesitate. During the shooting of Zanjeer the couple reportedly decided to marry if the film was a hit. It was, and they married less than a month after its release. Ironically, the success of Zanjeer and the couple's subsequent marriage mark the beginning of the decline in Jaya's film career: a young wife and mother, she was soon displaced as a romantic heroine by other, unmarried actresses.

Zanjeer was also the first Salim Khan-Javed Akhtar scripted film in which Amitabh appeared. Salim-Javed went on to write the Amitabh-starring superhits Sholay (Flames, 1975), Deewar (Wall, 1975), Trishul (Trident, 1978), and Don (1978), among others. Although these Salim-Javed films are all very distinct, in each Amitabh plays a working-class man who is forced to respond—usually with violence— to the world's crushing injustice. The names of his characters? Vijay (Zanjeer), Jai (Sholay), Vijay (Deewar), Vijay (Trishul), and Vijay (Don).

Zanjeer is the film that made Amitabh Bachchan a superstar, and which defined the Angry Young Man role he would play for much of the next decade. And while it's impossible for us to watch this film without hindsight, it's clear that this kind of role became Amitabh's trademark because of his powerful charisma and fierce conviction—qualities that he continues to bring to his roles more than four decades later.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Six favorite songs from Yash Chopra films

Yash Chopra, 1932-2012 (Carl Court/AFP/Getty Images)

I was greatly saddened to hear of the death of Yash Chopra on October 21. Although I'm not an uncritical fan of every Yash Chopra film—see my posts The "Arrgh!" factor: Chandni and Forbidden Love: Silsila and Lamhe—his films are justly renowned for their great music. In memory of this legendary figure, I've selected six favorite songs from Yash Chopra films spanning five decades.

 Aye Meri Zohra Jabeen from Waqt (Time, 1965):



Music: Ravi
Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi
Playback singer: Manna Dey

You may recognize this as the song interpolated into Mehndi Laga Ke Rakhna from Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (The Brave Heart Will Win The Bride, 1995), written and directed by Yash Chopra's son Aditya.

Kabhi Kabhie Mere Dil Mein from Kabhi Kabhie (Sometimes..., 1976):




Music: Khayyam
Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi
Playback singer: Mukesh

Khayyam won the Filmfare Award for Best Music, while Sahir Ludhianvi won Best Lyrics and Mukesh won Best Male Playback Singer for this song.

Pehli Pehli Bar. . .Ladki Hai Ya Shola from Silsila (The Affair, 1981):



Music: Shiv-Hari
Lyrics: Javed Akhtar
Playback singers: Kishor Kumar, Lata Mangeshkar

Rekha warns Amitabh not to get burned by her flame...

Lagi Aaj Sawan Ki from Chandni (Moonlight, 1989):



Music: Shiv-Hari
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Playback singer: Suresh Wadkar

A monsoon song, of which there are many examples in Yash Chopra films. This one is unusual for its melancholy mood.

Bholi Si Surat from Dil To Pagal Hai (The Heart is Crazy, 1997):



Music: Uttam Singh
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Playback singers: Udit Narayan, Lata Mangeshkar

Shah Rukh teases Karisma, but she's hurt because she recognizes (sooner than he does) that his feelings aren't really in earnest. Click on the CC button for English subtitles.

Main Yahaan Hoon from Veer-Zaara (2004):



Music: Madan Mohan
Lyrics: Javed Akhtar
Playback singer: Udit Narayan

One of the best soundtracks of the past decade, at the very least.

Yash Chopra is no more, but the music of his films is timeless.


Update 16 July 2013: Since this post was published a few days before Yash Chopra's last film was released, I thought I would include something from it as a bonus 7th song, from a sixth decade:

Ishq Shava from Jab Tak Hai Jaan (As Long As I Live, 2012):



Music: AR Rahman
Lyrics: Gulzar
Playback singers: Raghav Mathur, Shilpa Rao

What makes this song work for me is Shilpa Rao's passionate vocal performance.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Why I Love Bollywood: The Playlist (Part 2)

A continuation of Why I Love Bollywood: The Playlist (Part 1):

  1. Song: "Choli Ke Peeche" (What's beneath your blouse?)
    Film: Khal Nayak (The Anti-Hero, 1993); dir. Subhash Ghai
    Stars: Ila Arun, Madhuri Dixit, Sanjay Dutt
    Composers: Laxmikant-Pyarelal
    Singers: Ila Arun, Alka Yagnik

    I can't resist the playfully suggestive lyrics, propulsive music and Madhuri's outrageously flirtatious performance. What's beneath her choli? Her heart, of course:




  2. Song: "Dil Laga Liya" (I gave you my heart)
    Film: Dil Hai Tumhaara (My Heart Is Yours, 2002); dir. Kundan Shah
    Stars: Preity Zinta, Jimmy Shergill, Mahima Chaudhary, Rekha
    Composers: Nadeem-Shravan
    Singers: Alka Yagnik, Udit Narayan

    Samir (Jimmy Shergill) loves Shalu (Preity Zinta), and Shalu loves Dev (Arjun Rampal), while Dev is betrothed to Shalu's sister Nimmi (Mahima Chaudhary). At Nimmi's engagement party Shalu performs a song that expresses her own hopeless love for Dev...




  3. Song: "Dil Cheez Kya Hai" (What is my heart?)
    Film: Umrao Jaan (1983); dir. Muzaffar Ali
    Star: Rekha
    Composers: Khayyam (music), Shahryar (lyrics).
    Singer: Asha Bhosle

    Another story of hopeless love; the tragic courtesan Umrao Jaan is Rekha's greatest role.




  4. Song: "Pyar Kiya" (When one has loved, why be afraid?)
    Film: Mughal-e-Azam (The Great Mughal, 1960); dir. K. Asif
    Star: Madhubala
    Composers: Naushad (music), Shakeel Badayuni (lyrics)
    Singer: Lata Mangeshkar

    The dancer Anarkali (Madhubala) defiantly declares her love for Prince Salim (Dilip Kumar) before the Emperor Akhbar (Prithviraj Kapoor) and his court. Sensing a theme?




  5. Song: "Mehndi Laga Ke Rakhna" (Adorn yourself with henna)
    Film: Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (The Brave Heart Will Take The Bride, 1995); dir. Aditya Chopra
    Stars: Shah Rukh Khan, Kajol
    Composers: Jatin-Lalit (music), Anand Bakshi (lyrics)
    Singers: Udit Narayan, Lata Mangeshkar

    I love the interplay of secret glances and coded messages as Raj (Shah Rukh) performs this song for his lover Simran (Kajol) at the celebration of her engagement to another man.




  6. Song: "Kajra Re" (Dark eyes)
    Film: Bunty aur Babli (Bunty and Babli, 2005); dir. Shaad Ali
    Stars: Aishwarya Rai, Amitabh Bachchan, Abhishek Bachchan
    Composers: Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy (music), Gulzar (lyrics)
    Singers: Alisha Chinai, Shankar Mahadevan, Javed Ali

    An instant classic.




  7. Song: "Saakhiya Aaj Mujhe Neend Nahin Aayegi"
    Film: Sahib Bibi aur Ghulam (Master, Mistress and Servant, 2005); dir. Abrar Alvi
    Star: Minoo Mumtaz
    Composers: Hemant Kumar (music); Shakeel Badayuni (lyrics)
    Singer: Asha Bhosle

    The gorgeous black and white cinematography of this number (V. K. Murthy is the credited cinematographer, and this song was probably directed by Guru Dutt), with silhouetted backup dancers surrounding the brightly lit courtesan, shows what films lost when technicolor became the standard.




  8. Song: "Dhoom Taana"
    Film: Om Shanti Om (2007); dir. Farah Khan
    Stars: Deepika Padukone, Shah Rukh Khan
    Composers: Vishal Dadlani, Shekhar Ravjiani (music), Javed Akhtar (lyrics)
    Singers: Shreya Ghoshal, Abhijeet

    An homage to Bollywood heroes of the 1960s and 1970s, including Sunil Dutt, Rajesh Khanna, and Jeetendra, among others.




Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Second- and third-generation stars, and films: Student of the Year, Bol Bachchan, Teri Meri Kahaani


Last week we caught up with three movies released in the second half of 2012 that feature second- and third-generation Bollywood actors: Student of the Year, Bol Bachchan, and Teri Meri Kahaani. Unfortunately, it wasn't only the stars that were second- and third-generation.

Student of the Year feels like a pile of old scripts in Karan Johar's office got accidentally shredded and then randomly reassembled. It combines the "son seeking domineering father's approval" plot of Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (Sometimes joy, sometimes sorrow, 2001) with the "two boys in love with the same girl" plot and flashback structure of Kal Ho Naa Ho (Tomorrow may never come, 2003) and the swishy gay stereotypes of Dostana (Friendship, 2008). But most of all, SOTY feels like the college scenes from Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (Something is happening, 1998) stretched into a feature-length movie (and that's not intended as a recommendation).

Shanaya (Alia Bhatt, daughter of director/producer Mahesh Bhatt and actress/director Soni Razdan) is the queen of St. Teresa's College; the role seems modelled in equal parts on Kareena Kapoor's Pooja (from K3G) and Alicia Silverstone's Cher (from Clueless (1995)). Despite her queen-bee status she's taken for granted by her boyfriend Rohan (Varun Dhawan, son of director David Dhawan), who wants to be a rock star but at the same time craves the approval of his father Ashok, a corrupt business tycoon. New man on campus Abhimanyu (Sidharth Malhotra, not a star kid) decides to help out Shanaya by flirting with her to make Rohan jealous, but soon realizes that he's really falling in love with her himself—the subtext of "Radha":


(Music: Vishal-Shekar; lyrics: Anvita Dutt Guptan; playback singers: Shreya Ghoshal, Udit Narayan, and Vishal Dadlani)

We didn't recognize her, but Rohan's dance partner Tanya is Sana Saeed, who played Rahul's daughter Anjali in KKHH.

Meanwhile, Rohan resents the way the self-made Abhi has ingratiated himself with Rohan's father. The tensions among the three come to a head during the annual Student of the Year competition, when something happens to cause a final break between Rohan and Abhi.

That "something" is referred to by the other characters throughout the film in the hushed tones usually reserved for mass catastrophes. What happened isn't revealed until the film's final scenes, but my partner and I had guessed it by the interval, making the second half pretty suspenseless. And despite the attempts by director Johar and screenwriter Rensil D'Silva to give the wealthy Shanaya and Rohan troubled home lives (see, even rich kids have problems!), the sheer level of privilege on display made it hard to feel like anything truly significant was at stake for these characters. Family money will clearly enable them to come out ahead in "the competition of life," as one of the film's taglines has it.

On the plus side, Alia Bhatt has striking, unconventional looks, and Sidharth Malhotra is tall, hunky and has an assured screen presence. On the negative side, Rishi Kapoor's Dean Vashist is a compendium of offensive gay stereotypes, such as fawning over the straight sports coach (Ronit Roy) and acting with undisguised hostility towards his wife (Prachi Shah).

The four friends/sidekicks of Shanaya, Rohan and Abhi, who include the unhappy Sudo (Kayoze Irani, son of actor Boman Irani), are woefully underdeveloped even though they narrate the film. In particular, I thought the subplot involving Shruti (Mansi Rachh), Shanaya's best friend, had a lot of unexplored potential. Shruti clearly has a major girl-crush on Shanaya, and it's not clear whether those intense feelings are developing into romantic ones. But that subplot and its possible complications are dropped, alas, and the film seems overeager to heterosexualize the present-day Shruti. Giving her story more screen time would have made SOTY a different and more interesting film.

Bol Bachchan (Say "Bachchan") is also a mashup, this time of Hrishikesh Mukherjee's Gol Maal (Confusion, 1979) and Rohit Shetty's slapstick Golmaal series. After breaking into a locked Hindu temple to rescue a child, Abbas Ali (Abhishek Bachchan, son of actors Amitabh Bachchan and Jaya Bhaduri Bachchan) is asked for his name by the village strongman, Prithviraj (Ajay Devgn, son of director Veeru Devgan). Before he can answer, a friend (played by Krishna Abhishek, nephew of actor Govinda) blurts out "Abhishek Bachchan!" That Abhishek Bachchan's character is called Abhishek Bachchan is one of the movie's recurring gags; others include Prithviraj speaking in mangled English, and the moustached Abhishek pretending to have a clean-shaven twin named, of course, Abbas Ali.

This alleged comedy does have its (few) moments of brainless fun, and it's clear that Abhishek (the actor) is quite comfortable in comic roles. But for me the high point of the movie was the opening credit sequence, featuring Amitabh Bachchan schooling both younger actors in screen charisma, grace, comic timing, and elocution; it goes swiftly downhill from there:


(Music: Himesh Reshamiya; lyrics: Farhad-Sajid; playback singers: Amitabh Bachchan, Abhishek Bachchan, Ajay Devgan, Himesh Reshamiya, Mamta Sharma and Vineet Singh)

Teri Meri Kahaani (Our Story) features three love stories set in periods fifty years apart: 1960, 2010, and 1910. In 1960, Govind (Shahid Kapoor, son of actor Pankaj Kapur and actress/dancer Neelima Azeem) is an aspiring music director in Bombay who meets starlet Ruksar (Priyanka Chopra, not a star kid); love and misunderstandings ensue. The costume, hair, and musical styles seem modelled on movies from significantly later in the decade, such as Teesri Manzil (The Third Floor, 1967); nonetheless, it's fun to watch Shahid channel his inner Shammi in "Jabse Mere Dil Ko Uff":


(Music: Sajid-Wajid; lyrics: Prasoon Joshi; playback singers: Sonu Nigam and Sunidhi Chauhan)

The 2010 section tries to show a modern romance conducted via Facebook and Twitter, but director Kunal Kohli's onscreen use of texting acronyms feels self-conscious and instantly dated. Krishna (Shahid) is a college student who has just broken up with his girlfriend Meera (Neha Sharma) when he meets—who else?—Radha (Priyanka). Meera takes revenge by posting embarrassing photos of Krish online, and he retaliates in kind. Radha can be excused if she wonders about this guy's emotional maturity.

In 1910, Javed (Shahid), a poet of wine, women and song, woos Aradhana (Priyanka), the daughter of a freedom fighter. However, she is distressed by his lack of commitment (both political and emotional), and her father disapproves of the match. This part of the film feels like it lost crucial pieces of its conclusion in the editing room; director Kohli makes the ending feel rushed and incomplete.

We also discover here that Javed and Aradhana have vowed to be together in all their lives to come. But if that is what is supposed to tie these stories together, either our lovers are short-lived (are they reborn every 50 years?), or Kohli and his screenwriter Robin Bhatt (one of Alia's uncles, to bring this full circle) couldn't be bothered to be coherent and thought we wouldn't notice.

My advice, for what it's worth: for a better Shahid Kapoor movie, watch Vivah (Marriage, 2006); for a better Abhishek Bachchan comedy co-starring his father, watch Bunty aur Babli (2005); and for a better Karan Johar-associated film, watch Kal Ho Naa Ho.

Saturday, October 22, 2022

Bollywood and Hindu nationalism

Poster for Ali Abbas Zafar's Tandav (2021). Image source: IMDB

Samanth Subramanian's recent New Yorker article "When the Hindu Right Came for Bollywood" (issue of 17 October 2022) uses the controversy over the Amazon Prime series Tandav (2021) as an illustration of the pressure the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and its Hindu nationalist satellite organizations are bringing to bear on the commercial Hindi film and television industry. That pressure includes calls for boycotts and outright bans; both veiled and explicit threats of violence (which sometimes have erupted into actual violence); and filing FIRs (First Information Reports requesting police investigation of alleged criminal wrongdoing) against actors, directors and producers for offending the religious sentiments of Hindus.

The BJP-led government has also moved to assert pre-release control over content: in 2020, the government ordered that streaming services such as Netflix and Amazon Prime fall under the censorship of the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, which has long been involved in film censorship through its Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC). And in 2021, the government abolished the Film Certification Appellate Tribunal, where negative decisions by the CBFC could be appealed.

Tandav is about political betrayal, corruption, blackmail, and the cynical exploitation of social unrest to gain personal power. It includes a scene where a student leader named Shiva paints his skin blue and carries a trident (both elements of the iconography of the Hindu god). In response FIRs were registered in Bengalaru (Karnataka) against the actors Mohammed Zeeshan Ayyub (Shiva) and Saif Ali Khan, writer/director/producer Ali Abbas Zafar, producer Farhan Akhtar, and head of Indian Originals for Amazon Prime Aparna Purohit. Accusations against each were made under Indian Penal Code sections 153A ("Promoting enmity between different groups on grounds of religion, race, place of birth, residence, language, etc."), 295A ("Deliberate and malicious acts, intended to outrage religious feelings of any class by insulting its religion or religious beliefs"), 298 ("deliberate intent to wound religious feelings"), and 35 ("When a criminal act is done by several persons in furtherance of the common intention of all, each of such persons is liable for that act in the same manner as if it were done by him alone"). Similar cases were filed in Maharashtra (the state that includes Mumbai), Madhya Pradesh, and Uttar Pradesh; in all, at least 10 FIRs were registered.

Ram Kadam, a BJP Member of the Legislative Assembly for Maharashtra who filed an FIR against the creators and stars of the show in Ghatkopar, a suburb of Mumbai, tweeted that the Shiva scene in Tandav "demean[s] Hindu gods" and called for a boycott. Under the hashtag #BanTandavNow, Dehli BJP leader Kapil Mishra tweeted to his 1.3 million followers that Tandav was "spreading massive hate against our dharma and our Gods making hero out of terrorists [i.e., Muslims] and making fun of our forces." [1]

On January 18, only three days after the series' release, Zafar tweeted an "Official Statement from the Cast & Crew of Tandav." Under the heading "Our sincere apologies," he posted:

We have been closely monitoring viewer reactions to the web series Tandav and today during a discussion, the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting have informed us regarding a large number of grievances and petitions received on various facets of the web series with serious concerns and apprehensions regarding its content hurting the sentiments of the people.

The web series Tandav is a work of fiction and any resemblance to acts and persons and events is purely coincidental. The cast and crew did not have any intention to offend the sentiments of any individual, caste, community, race, religion or religious beliefs or insult or outrage any institution, political party or person, living or dead. The cast and crew of Tandav take cognizance of the concerns expressed by the people and unconditionally apologize if it has unintentionally hurt anybody’s sentiments.

Subramanian writes, "In Mumbai, people divide recent history into pre-'Tandav' and post-'Tandav' periods, reading the show’s fate—its bitter legal battles, its suspended second season—as a lesson in what can and cannot be said in Modi's India." While the manufactured outrage over Tandav is clearly intended to send a message to filmmakers, those who think it marks the beginning of an era have short memories. The tactics used against Tandav and its creators are well-established.

Poster for Deepa Mehta's Fire (1996). Image source: RogerEbert.com

  • In 1998, screenings of Indo-Canadian writer/director Deepa Mehta's film Fire in India were violently attacked by members of the interrelated Hindu nationalist organizations Shiv Sena, Bajrang Dal, and the BJP; Mehta herself received death threats and required armed protection. Fire depicts two sisters-in-law (Shabana Azmi and Nandita Das), each trapped in a loveless marriage, whose growing emotional closeness develops into passionate erotic desire. Shiv Sena's founder and leader Bal Thackeray claimed absurdly in an interview that sexual relations between women "are not part of Indian culture.'' [2]

    Vishvanath Temple in Khajuraho, Madhya Pradesh, India. Photo credit: Aotearoa, CC BY-SA 3.0. Image source: Wikimedia Commons

    After theaters and audiences in Mumbai, Dehli, Surat and Calcutta (now Kolkata) were attacked—the audience in Calcutta fought back against the attackers and the screening continued—the film was withdrawn from theaters for recertification by the CBFC. Advocates for freedom of expression and gay and lesbian rights mobilized and Fire was recertified without changes. Theater showings resumed, although some theater owners feared renewed violence and were reluctant to book the film.

Poster for Karan Johar's Ae Dil Hai Mushkil (2016). Image source: dnaindia.com

  • On 23 September 2016, as a response to an attack by Pakistan-based jihadists on an Indian army base in Uri, Kashmir, the Hindu nationalist group Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS) ordered all Pakistani actors and film technicians to leave India within 48 hours or "we shall push them out." In a show of support for MNS, both the Indian Motion Picture Producers Association and the Film Producers Guild quickly followed this pronouncement with a call for a ban on the employment of Pakistani actors and technicians.

    Producer Karan Johar initially opposed the ban. However, after threats by the MNS to prevent screenings of his new film Ae Dil Hai Mushkil, which featured Pakistani actor Fawad Khan, Johar reluctantly joined the boycott, saying "For me, my country comes first. . .Going forward, I would like to say that of course I wouldn’t engage with talent from the neighbouring country given the circumstance."

Poster for Sanjay Leela Bhansali's Padmaavat (2018). Image source: Allociné

  • In his New Yorker article Subramanian mentions a January 2017 attack on the set of the film Padmaavat during a location shoot at the Jaigarh Fort in Jaipur, Rajasthan, by members of the organization Karni Sena. A crowd of men chanting slogans invaded the set, struck director Sanjay Leela Bhansali in the head and seized him by the hair, and vandalized the set and equipment; a video of the assault can be seen on YouTube. A few months later, after the production was moved to Maharashtra, the sets were burned in a late-night arson attack.

    Karni Sena falsely claimed that the film contained a dream-sequence love scene between the Hindu Queen Padmavati (Deepika Padukone) and the Muslim Sultan Alauddin Khalji (Ranveer Singh), as though this would justify its violence. Mahipal Singh Makrana, state president of Karni Sena, later threatened to facially disfigure Padukone. Surajpal Amu, media coordinator of the BJP in Haryana, offered a ₹ 10 crore reward for the beheading of Bhansali and Padukone (₹ 10 crore is 100 million rupees, or US$ 1.3 million). Haryana BJP leader Subhash Barala asked Amu to "show cause" for his comments (as if there could be any cause to call for beheadings), but later refused to accept Amu's resignation. In 2021 Amu was appointed the spokesperson of the Haryana BJP. [3]

    It's ironic that Padmaavat was the target of Hindu nationalist violence, because the film depicts the Muslim characters as stereotypical villains: lecherous, treacherous, and murderous. In the final scenes—spoiler alerts!—the black-clad, black-flag-waving Muslim horde stabs the upright Rajasthani hero Maharawal Ratan Singh (Shahid Kapoor) in the back, and yes, I do mean literally. Subramanian writes, "Padmavati and her handmaidens are besieged by Khilji’s army. Instead of submitting, they dress in red and stream through the palace, like blood through an artery, to leap into a pit of fire—a happy ending, in the moral universe of the Hindu right." Padmaavat quickly took its place among the all-time top ten highest-grossing Indian films worldwide, and went on to win a slew of awards; Karni Sena withdrew its condemnation and declared its support. Padmaavat was named Biggest Disappointment in my year-end survey Favorites of 2018: Movies and Television.

Film critic Fareeduddin Kazmi has written,

Conventional Hindi films. . .instead of challenging the ideological assumptions of their times, tend to reinforce and perpetuate them. In India, the mass media are primary technologies of ideology, with the Hindi conventional cinema standing in the forefront. [4]

Although no film industry is univocal, in the decades following independence the ideology expressed in mainstream Hindi films tended to be pluralistic. This followed the lead of the modernization policy of the Nehru-led government which criminalized caste and religious discrimination and attempted to give women legal parity with men.

The quintessential example of a film reflecting pluralistic values is Manmohan Desai's Amar Akbar Anthony (1977).

Amar (Vinod Khanna), Akbar (Rishi Kapoor), and Anthony (Amitabh Bachchan) in Amar Akbar Anthony.

As I summarized the film in my Favorites of 2019: Movies and television, three little boys, inadvertently separated from their parents and apparently abandoned, are taken in by a Hindu police officer, a Muslim tailor, and a Catholic priest. Twenty-five years later, Amar (Vinod Khanna) has become a tough but honest cop, Akbar (Rishi Kapoor) has become a famous qawwali singer, and Anthony (Amitabh Bachchan) is a two-fisted, good-hearted bhai who rules his lane. When a blind old woman (guess who) is hit by a car and needs an emergency transfusion, the three men (who, of course, all share the woman's blood type) volunteer. As the blood of the three strangers who are her unsuspecting Hindu, Muslim and Christian sons mingles in Ma's veins to give her life—symbolism, anyone?—the credits begin to roll. The opening credits. This is just the pre-credit sequence.

Of course, the mid-1970s were also the period of the Emergency, during which Prime Minister Indira Gandhi ruled by decree. Political opponents were jailed and their organizations banned, civil liberties (such as political protests and trade union strikes) were restricted, and a program of forced sterilization was instituted that targeted the poor and marginalized, especially Muslims. The sentimental pluralism of films like Amar Akbar Anthony was belied by the actions of the Congress Party-dominated government.

One reason for the pluralism of many Bollywood films between independence and the early 1990s was not only the (stated) non-sectarianism of government policy, but the pluralism of Bollywood itself. As Maidul Islam writes,

. . .for many decades, Bollywood has remained one of the strongest bastions of secularism and 'perhaps the least religiously segregated place in India today where Hindus and Muslims work together as well as intermarry.' It is one of the few sites in India where Muslims are not marginal, but actually enjoy some prominence and success, and has many famous stars, successful directors, screenwriters, choreographers, lyricists, and composers. [5]

"Some prominence and success" indeed (links are to mentions in E&I):

As the BJP, aided by Congress Party corruption and incompetence, developed significant political power from the late 1980s onward, pluralistic films continued to be made. Films such as Lagaan (2001), Veer-Zaara (2004), Rang de Basanti (2006), Dor (2006), Chak De! India (2007), and My Name Is Khan (2010) were critical and box-office successes.

However, with the ascendency in the 2014 general elections of Modi and the BJP, and their consolidation of power in the 2019 general elections, Bollywood is bending with the prevailing political winds. We were dismayed to learn from Subramanian's article about recent films such as the Hindu-chauvinist Samrat Prithviraj (starring Akshay Kumar, 2022), and prominent actors who have embraced the BJP and its Hindutva ideology, including Anupam Kher and Kangana Ranaut.

Even many of those who aren't vocal BJP supporters are keeping their heads down, or up, as the case may be. A 2019 photo from Karan Johar's Instagram account:

Ranveer Singh, Sidharth Malhotra, Karan Johar, Varun Dhawan, Ranbir Kapoor, Vicky Kaushal (? identification uncertain), Rohit Shetty, Ekhta Kapoor, Ashwiny Iyer Tiwari, Rajkummar Rao, Bhumi Pednekar, Alia Bhatt, Ayushmann Khurrana, and others surrounding Narendra Modi. Image source: India Today

Actress Nafisa Ali posted in response, "Felt sad to see my Fraternity being part of PM’s planned PR. . .I will pray that the truth is exposed and the closed door planning of divide & rule is understood. I worry for the Constitutional rights of every Indian. I was in Gujarat soon after the riots and will never forget the reality of what I saw. I pray for the Unity of India."


  1. Mishra has been accused of fomenting the 2020 Dehli riots which started when a non-violent crowd blockading a road was attacked. The blockade was in protest of the discriminatory Citizenship Amendment Act, which provides a path to Indian citizenship only for non-Muslim immigrants from neighboring Muslim-majority countries. Over several days of violence and arson 53 people, more than two-thirds of them Muslims, were killed. ^ Return
  2. Quoted in Barry Bearak, "New Dehli Journal; A Lesbian Idyll, and the Movie Theaters Surrender." New York Times, 24 December 1998, p. A4. https://www.nytimes.com/1998/12/24/world/new-delhi-journal-a-lesbian-idyll-and-the-movie-theaters-surrender.html. Bearak's smirking, flippant article betrays his own profound limitations of perspective as a cultural observer.
  3. Throughout the anti-Padmaavat protests Hindu nationalists selectively conflated the characters depicted onscreen with the actors who portrayed them. Selectively, because while Padukone was threatened with death for what the perpetrators believed were the actions of her character in the dream of another (evil) character, apparently it didn't matter that offscreen Padukone and Singh were a real-life couple; they are now husband and wife.
  4. Quoted in Maidul Islam, "Imag(in)ing Indian Muslims in Post-liberalization Hindi Cinema," in Indian Muslim(s) After Liberalization, Oxford University Press, 2019, p. 111. 
  5. Maidul Islam, p. 93.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

70s Week

We're halfway through 70s Week (an inspiration of Beth Loves Bollywood), and the fabulousness just keeps coming. There have been too many excellent 70s Week contributions for me to list them all, but among my favorite posts so far:

70s OST Top 10 (Apni East India Company): Shweta shows why the accomplishments of artists like composer RD Burman and singer Kishore Kumar remain unsurpassed.

Don vs. Don: Two will enter only one will leave! (FilmiGirl): It's a throwdown between the 2006 Farhan Akhtar-directed remake and the 1970s original written by Farhan's father Javed Akhtar. Slickness vs. heart--which will win?

My ten favorite 70s movies (MemsaabStory): Memsaab is the ideal guide to 1970s Bollywood; now I have to track down these movies!

Shining the spotlight on Gulzar (Old Is Gold): 1970s Bollywood wasn't only masala craziness; here Bollyviewer writes about the "delicate and ethereal beauty" of director/writer/lyricist Gulzar's films.

Romance and awesome heroines (...so they dance!): Veracious writes that one of the best things about 1970s Bollywood movies is their fierce heroines portrayed by actresses like Hema Malini and Neetu Singh (to which I'd add Don's Zeenat Aman).

I haven't seen nearly enough films from the era to do my own 70s Week post, but I'm really looking forward to the rest of the week!

(Thanks to V Love Movies for the 70s Week logo.)

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Femininity as performance: Konkona Sen Sharma

Konkona Sen Sharma has quickly become an Exotic and Irrational favorite. She first came to our attention in Aaja Nachle (2007), where she played the distinctly unglamorous Anokhi. Anokhi is a tomboyish village girl who is trying to get Kunal Kapoor's Imran to notice her; when they are cast as the legendary lovers Laila and Majnu in the theatrical show that Madhuri Dixit's Dia is directing, Anokhi has her chance.

Even without English subtitles, the dynamics among the characters and the shifts between the film's reality and the characters' fantasies in Aaja Nachle's "Ishq Hua" should be pretty clear. That's Vinay Pathak and Sushmita Mukherjee as the older couple, and Ranvir Shorey dancing with Madhuri in his character's fantasy (music by Salim-Suleiman; directed by Anil Mehta):


Under the tutelage of the older, more experienced (and divorced) Dia, Anokhi learns that the way to a man's heart is to glam up, flirt, and become more feminine. By making a parallel between Anokhi's role in the show and her adoption of a more girlish personal style, the movie is suggesting—perhaps not inadvertently—that femininity is a performance.

And this isn't the only Konkona movie that makes that suggestion. In Life in a...Metro, Konkona plays Shruti, as a woman we are supposed to see (at least initially) as exaggeratedly severe; it's only after she gets some girl-to-girl advice about her appearance and demeanor that she begins to get some (initially unwanted) attention from Irrfan Khan's Monty. It's a measure of how good she is as an actress that the striking Konkona is so convincing as these supposedly unattractive women.

Incidentally, both movies also suggest that men are crude and self-centered until love allows them to let down their emotional guard a little. In other words, masculinity is also a performance—or to put it another way, an act.

In addition to (or sometimes along with) the ugly duckling who becomes a swan, Konkona also often plays young women beginning to make their way in the big city. Her characters, with the same mixed success as the rest of us, are seeking not only love, but creative fulfillment in their work. In Page 3 (2005), she plays a naïve journalist who realizes too late that she's become a part of the empty-celebrity machine; in Luck By Chance (2009), she plays an aspiring actress who discovers that talent and ambition aren't all that's required for Bollywood success; and in Wake Up Sid (2009), she plays a young writer who eventually lands a column in a hip nightlife magazine as the "New Girl in the City." Konkona's sympathetic performances are the best thing about all three of these movies.

Here she shows Aisha's recognition of her growing love for Ranbir Kapoor's Sid in Wake Up Sid's lovely "Iktara" (music by Shankar-Eshaan-Loy, lyrics by Javed Akhtar; directed by Ayan Mukherjee):


After Wake Up Sid, which was very successful both critically and commercially, Konkona may have felt that she was finished for the time being with "new girl in the city" roles. Certainly her current projects seem to involve very different kinds of characters. We haven't seen Atithi Tum Kab Jaoge or Right Ya Wrong (both 2010)—neither slapstick comedy nor suspense thrillers (Hitchcock aside) are favorite E & I genres. We are, though, looking forward to Iti Mrinalini (announced for a June 2010 release), Konkona's reunion with her mother Aparna Sen, who wrote and directed Konkona's breakthrough Mr. and Mrs. Iyer (2002).

Friday, December 10, 2010

Favorites of 2010: Movies and television

The end of the year tends to put one—or at least me—in a reflective and retrospective mood. What follows is a list of my favorite movies and television from 2010; books, music, and art will be included in my next post.

Please note that these are not movies or TV shows that were necessarily created or released in 2010, but rather ones that I first encountered in 2010. As you'll see, almost all of these favorites date from years or decades earlier.

Bollywood 2010

Is it just me, or was this a pretty dismal year for Bollywood? I found myself following the examples of Memsaab, Beth, and Bollyviewer in turning primarily to Bollywood's Silver and Golden Ages for my viewing pleasure.

Favorite Bollywood movie: (tie)

Seeta aur Geeta (1972)

What a delightful movie! Hema Malini is adorable in a double role as twin sisters separated at birth. Seeta is raised to be a properly submissive daughter in a rich household, but her greedy relatives cruelly exploit her. The spirited Geeta is raised by a poor family and becomes a street performer with her partner Raka (Dharmendra). Of course the twins get switched, their respective families get big surprises, and many catchy R.D. Burman songs (and a few tight slaps) ensue before everything is sorted out. If for some reason you haven't yet seen this charmer (directed by Ramesh Sippy and written by Javed Akhtar, Satish Bhatnagar and Salim Khan) put it at the top of your list.

Sadhna (1958)

Yes, this classic from Yash Chopra's older brother B. R. is a tawaif-with-a-heart-of-gold story. But the great performance of Vyjayanthimala as the courtesan Champabai, the wonderful songs of N. Dutta (music) and Sahir Ludhianvi (lyrics), and the film's powerful indictment of the exploitation and oppression of women, make this a very special experience. As always, I'm lagging behind in my discovery: see Memsaab's post on Sadhna from two years ago, which is beautifully written and filled with screencaps of M.N. Malhotra's gorgeous black and white cinematography.

Favorite Bollywood soundtrack: Barsaat Ki Raat (1960)

This movie is full of wonderful music sung by the great Mohammad Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhosle. But what makes this one of the greatest soundtracks ever are a series of qawwali competitions where the performances just keep getting more brilliant with every exchange. Rohan (music) and our friend from Sadhna, Sahir Ludhianvi (lyrics), outdid themselves; this film has almost too much great music to take in. And if that's not enough, you get to see the songs picturized on Bharat Bushan, Madhubala, and the sparkling Shyama and Ratna.

Favorite non-Bollywood movie: Tokyo Story (1953)

An elderly couple (Chishu Riyu and Chieko Higashiyama) make a once-in-a-lifetime trip to the big city to see their children and grandchildren—only to discover that no one has any time for them. A radiant Setsuko Hara, the couple's daughter-in-law, is the only one who treats them with kindness; but we can see that her own life is cruelly constrained by her poverty and widowhood. Director/writer Yasujiro Ozu takes this simple story and creates a masterpiece of restraint in which details of the characters' lives and emotions are slowly unveiled. As rich an experience as reading a great novel.

Favorite English-language movie: Flushed Away (2006)

We're big fans of Nick Park's Wallace & Gromit series, but somehow we missed this Aardman Animations feature when it came out. Maybe the comical adventures of rats in the London sewers didn't sound all that appealing at the time. Flushed Away turned out to be hilarious, with sight gags and movie references coming so fast that it's difficult to catch them all. And the characters are voiced by actors Hugh Jackman, Kate Winslet, Ian McKellan and Bill Nighy.

Favorite TV show (on DVD, of course): Middlemarch (1994)

George Eliot's Middlemarch is an 800-page novel, but this excellent BBC/Masterpiece Theater series—written by Andrew Davies of Pride and Prejudice fame—manages to include virtually every major incident in the book (and many of the character-revealing minor ones). A wonderful cast, and of course fabulous costumes and locations, make this another great BBC adaptation.

Runner-up: Glee, Season 1

I wrote about Glee recently; since that post we've continued watching the first season. The story lines are getting ever more absurd, the quality of the music is wildly uneven, and it feels like the last third of the season is just marking time until the big finale. It still manages to be utterly addictive, though.

Next time: Books, music, and art

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Don 2

don 2Don 2 (2011) has a built-in problem. In writer/director Farhan Akhtar's Don: The Chase Begins Again (2006), the remake-with-a-twist of the original Don (1978), good-hearted street performer Vijay (Shah Rukh Khan) is coerced into impersonating the criminal mastermind Don (also Shah Rukh Khan). It's a clever story (devised for Amitabh Bachchan in the original film by Salim Khan and Javed Akhtar, father of Farhan) that allows us to have it both ways: we can vicariously revel in the transgressive criminal actions of Don, while at the same time rooting for the good guy Vijay. It's not only the audience that experiences some cognitive dissonance: the beautiful Roma (Priyanka Chopra), who wants to kill Don in revenge for her brother Ramesh's death, finds herself instead falling in love with Vijay-Don.

There's no way for me to discuss this without a spoiler, so be forewarned, but at the end of Don: TCBA

—spoiler alert!—

we discover that Vijay was murdered by Don before he could take his place. So throughout the second half of the film, we think we're rooting for Vijay, but in the final shots of the film we discover that all along we've been pulling for Don, who was impersonating Vijay impersonating Don. With Vijay dead,

—end of spoiler—

Don 2 leaves us only with Don himself, which is the problem. Don is a pretty nasty customer—Shah Rukh's fabled charm is not much in evidence. The only thing that gives us any interest in the outcome of Don's elaborate heist at the Deutsche Zentralbank is that every other criminal in the film is even nastier. Along with a sympathetic main character, gone are the clever Infernal Affairs-like plot twists from Don: TCBA. Instead, Farhan Akhtar gives us an efficient recounting of the planning and execution of the theft. It's almost disappointingly straightforward. It also leaves very little room for songs, unlike Don: TCBA, whose remixed/remodelled soundtrack borrowed liberally from the 1978 film.

It was nice to see the underused Kunal Kapoor as Sameer, a reformed hacker who agrees to one last job for his wife and unborn son. But that's about it for subplots. The unfinished business between Don and Roma (who apparently still has residual feelings for Don despite Ramesh, who is barely alluded to) and between Don and criminal rival Vardaan (Boman Irani, who is given very little to do other than glower), isn't allowed to distract from the car chases, gun battles, explosions, and other standard action-movie sequences. But despite the high-tech slickness of the filmmaking, the object of the heist—currency printing plates—seems almost quaint. And (mild spoiler alert) the way Don eludes arrest at the end is simply lame.

Of course, the filmmakers have to leave their options open for another sequel. I found Don 2 to be an entertaining enough watch on a summer evening, but perhaps the point of diminishing returns has been reached for this franchise.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Sholay

SholayI'm hesitant to write about Sholay (1975) because it has such a revered place in Bollywood history. Sholay often makes it onto lists of the best Bollywood films, and indeed received Best Film of 50 Years at the 50th Filmfare awards ceremony. While it's hard to compare eras, it is listed by BoxOfficeIndia.com as the highest-grossing Bollywood film of all time after adjusting for inflation. It's the movie that made Amitabh Bachchan a superstar, and many of its scenes are now considered classics.

So in the face of all this acclaim, why is my reaction to Sholay so lukewarm? Why would I rather watch Rani Mukherjee and Sonali Bendre cavorting in Shimla (see my review of Chori Chori) than Amjad Khan frothing his way through his role as Sholay's psychotic villain Gabbar Singh? Before you slap your forehead in disbelief and stop reading, let me explain why, for me, Sholay doesn't live up to its legendary status.

It's been described as a "curry Western," and the parallel to Sergio Leone's spaghetti Westerns is deliberate. Like Leone's films, Sholay is a self-conscious pastiche of elements from other movies. In the case of Sholay, elements are lifted from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969), High Noon (1952), The Magnificent Seven (1960) and its Japanese original Seven Samurai (1954), and Leone's own films.

Sholay's borrowings from Once Upon A Time In The West (1968) are especially blatant. Much of the plot is lifted directly from the Leone movie: two petty thieves, Jai and Veeru (a young Amitabh Bachchan and a slightly gone-to-seed Dharmendra) are recruited by a former cop (in Leone's film, it's a widow) to take revenge on the gang that terrorizes his village and that has massacred his family.

Warning: multiple spoilers follow.

Sholay's director Ramesh Sippy restages many scenes from Once Upon a Time in the West--only less effectively. In the opening moments of Once Upon a Time In the West, a young boy emerges from a house, crying, and wanders among the bodies of his murdered family. Then (if I'm remembering correctly; I haven't seen the film in 20 years) a shadow falls over him. He looks up--into the blue eyes of Henry Fonda. Your first impulse is to think that he's saved, that the sheriff has come to rescue him; Fonda has to be a good guy, of course. Then a shot rings out, the boy crumples into the dust, and we're staring into Fonda's blue eyes again. Only this time we see in them the cold stare of a brutal killer.

In Sholay's massacre scene, which comes in a flashback halfway through the film, Gabbar Singh's gang slaughters the family of the Thakur (Sanjeev Kumar). A young boy runs out of the house--and is immediately blasted by Gabbar Singh. There's no similar moment of (delusional) hope, or any ambiguity in the casting (Amjad Khan plays Gabbar Singh as a demented sadist from his first moments onscreen).

The action of the final gun battle in which Jai single-handedly holds off the bad guys trying to cross a bridge is also badly managed. I'm not complaining about the unerring aim of the good guys or the seemingly limitless manpower and ammunition that the gang can bring to bear--those are pretty standard features in "Westerns" of all nationalities. But at one point the gang rolls a bundle of dynamite onto the bridge. If it goes off, of course, it will destroy the bridge (making it impossible for the gang to get across), but apparently they didn't think of that. When the dynamite doesn't go off and Jai's gun falls silent, the bad guys decide to advance en masse across the bridge. You can probably guess what happens next, although the bad guys evidently couldn't. Ramesh Sippy needed to rewatch Leone's The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly (1966) or even Buster Keaton's The General (1927) to see how the bridge/dynamite thing should be handled.

There are other direct borrowings from Once Upon A Time in the West in Sholay; for example, Jai periodically plays a lonesome harmonica, just like Charles Bronson's character (named Harmonica) in the earlier film. But if the idea was to suggest a parallel between their characters, it's misguided. As Jai, Bachchan lacks Bronson's sense of inarticulate menace, and the tension between the two hired guns in Once Upon A Time In the West (Bronson's face is an impassive mask--his limited acting abilities become an essential part of what makes his character so unsettling) is replaced by Bachchan and Dharmendra's Butch Cassidy-Sundance Kid buddy act.

That act is indeed a pleasure to watch, and it's easy to understand why this film made Amitabh Bachchan the epitome of cool. Hema Malini is also terrific as the flirtatious love-interest Basanti. There are other effective moments: a Russian roulette scene which holds several surprises; and the end of the film, where the good guys don't entirely triumph and the closing off of possibilities is beautifully symbolized (I'm trying not to spoil these moments for anyone planning to see the film).

I realize that as someone who doesn't speak Hindi and who must read the dialogue in subtitles, I'm missing out on a key dimension of the movie. Most people who praise Sholay talk about its endlessly quotable dialogue (Javed Akhtar and Salim Khan are credited as the writers). But for me it's impossible to escape the feeling while watching Sholay that the movies on which it's based surpass their Bollywood reincarnation. Of course, several generations of Indian filmgoers couldn't disagree more.

P.S. For a thoughtful introduction to Sholay (and to Bollywood in general) aimed at western viewers, see the Sholay page of Philip Lutgendorf's Notes on Indian Popular Cinema.

Sunday, April 19, 2026

In memoriam: Asha Bhosle

Photograph of Asha Bhosle

Asha Bhosle. Image source: MumbaiMirror

The great playback singer Asha Bhosle (née Mangeshkar) died last Sunday at age 92. Born into a musical family, she recorded 12,000 songs (according to the Guardian's obituary) for over 2200 movies (according to the Internet Movie Database), outpaced perhaps only by her older sister Lata. If Lata became famous mainly for songs of romantic yearning and sorrow, Asha often represented youth, flirtatiousness and pleasure. (Of course, this division of labor wasn't absolute by any means.)

Asha's career as a playback singer began in the 1943 film Maze Baal (My Child), when she was was 10, and continued into the 21st century. Below I've selected some of my favorite Asha performances spanning the decades, linking to the videos on YouTube when they can't be embedded.

Aaiye Meherbaan from Howrah Bridge (1958): Many of the films for which Asha Bhosle sang playback in the 1950s became classics, such as Raj Kapoor's Shree 420 (Mr. Trickster, 1955), Bimal Roy's Devdas (1955), and Guru Dutt's Kaagaz Ke Phool (Paper flowers, 1959). In Howrah Bridge she voiced the seductive "Aaiye Meherbaan" (Come, my dear one), in which cabaret-singer-with-a-heart-of-gold Edna (Madhubala) practices her allurements on handsome stranger Prem (Ashok Kumar). Ultimately she will help him bring his brother's killer to justice. The music is by O.P. Nayyar and the lyrics by Qammar Jallalabadi. (Song ends at 43:16.)

Incidentally, in the video of this song linked above the young dancer in the cap and checked shirt is Saroj Khan, the subject of another "In memoriam" post.

Koi Kehde from Baharen Phir Bhi Aayengi (Spring will come again, 1966): The final production of Guru Dutt Films, Baharen Phir Bhi Aayengi features a love triangle between newspaper publisher Amita (Mala Sinha), her younger sister Sunita (Tanuja), and crusading journalist Jitendra (Dharmendra). In a classic plotline borrowed later by many other films, each sister decides to sacrifice her love for her sibling's happiness. But we can hardly blame Jitendra for being unable to resist the combination of Tanuja and Asha in "Koi Kehde" (Go tell the world). The music is by O.P. Nayyar and the lyrics by Sheven Rizvi.

koi kehde kehde kehde
zamaane se jaa ke
ke hum ghabraa ke
mohabbat kar baithhe
haaye mohabbat kar baithhe
koi kehde kehde kehde

ab jalta hai jale zamaana
banaaye fasaana
nahin ghabraayenge hum
dil ka sauda kiya hai khushi se
daren kyun kisi se
ke hum to abhi se hain thaame jigar baithhe
haaye mohabbat kar baithhe
koi kehde kehde kehde

kyun na raahon mein kaliyaan bichha den
jahaan ko dikha den
mohabbat ki jaadugiri
aaj dil ko jabaan mil gayi hai
dil ki kali khil gayi hai
ye dunia nayi hai
jo karna thha kar baithe
haaye mohabbat kar baithe
koi kehde kehde kehde
Go, tell, oh tell,
tell the world,
That in fear
love we unfurled,
Oh, love we unfurled.
Go, tell, oh tell, tell.

Let the world burn,
let tales be spun,
We shall not tremble, not be undone.
We exchanged our hearts, a joyful trade,
Why fear anything? We're unafraid.
Joining our hearts in this embrace,
Oh, love we embrace.
Go, tell, oh tell, tell the world,

Why not scatter blossoms on the way,
And show the world
love's magic play?
The heart now speaks,
the bud has bloomed,
This world is new, our hearts consumed.
What had to be, we now have done,
Oh, love we have won.
Go, tell, oh tell, tell.

Phur ud chala from Tere Mere Sapne (Our dreams, 1971) is an example of the spectacular songs that Asha sang in films such as Teesri Manzil (Third Floor, 1966) and Anamika (1973), which take place in Busby-Berkeley-like fantasy spaces or in nightclubs as big as airplane hangers. Anand (Dev Anand) is an idealistic doctor who chooses to practice among poor villagers instead of treating the complaints of the rich in the big city. In the coal-mining town where he goes to treat black lung, he meets schoolteacher Nisha (Mumtaz), and the two fall in love. On their day off they go to the village fair, where Bombay Touring Talkies has set up a screen to show the latest movie of the biggest Bollywood star, Maltimala (gorgeous and glamorous Hema Malini, voiced by Asha). The music of "Phur ud chala" (Where does the heart take flight?) is by S.D. Burman, with lyrics by Neeraj:

https://youtu.be/UcdORTx6CBU

Piya Tu Ab To Aaja from Caravan (1971): Asha made something of a specialty of drunken songs, many picturized on dance legend Helen. "Piya Tu Ab To Aaja" (Oh my beloved, come to me) is a paradigmatic example from Caravan. Helen plays Monica, a cabaret performer in thrall to the villain Rajan (Krishen Mehta), who is trying to steal the inheritance of heroine Sunita (Asha Parekh). The music is by R.D. Burman, with lyrics by Majrooh Sultanpuri.

Dil Cheez Kya Hai from Umrao Jaan (Beloved Umrao, 1981): Amazingly, although she'd been singing in films for nearly forty years, Umrao Jaan is the first film for which Asha sang the entire soundtrack, and it was also the first film for which she won the National Film Award for best female playback singer. It is a classic, probably the finest work not only of Asha, but of its star Rekha, writer/director Muzaffar Ali, and composer Khayyam. Set at the time of the 1857 Uprising, Umrao Jaan is the story of the impossible love between the tawaif (courtesan) Umrao Jaan (Rekha) and the Nawab Sultan (Farooq Shaikh). "Dil Cheez Kya Hai" (What is my heart?) is the moment when the Nawab Sultan, hearing her singing from his passing carriage, becomes enraptured by her voice—as are we. The music is by Khayyam and the lyrics by Shahryar:

https://youtu.be/5sYHweBM4L4

This post was inspired by a memorial re-watch with my partner of Umrao Jaan, a film that gets richer with every viewing.

Zara Sa Jhoom Loon Main from Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (The Brave Heart Will Win The Bride, 1995): DDLJ, one of the biggest blockbusters in Bollywood history, is the film that made Shah Rukh Khan a superstar. The brash Raj (SRK) and the proper Simran (Kajol, Tanuja's daughter) meet on a summer Eurail tour, and despite Raj's relentless teasing of Simran, opposites attract and the two fall in love. But soon Simran reveals her secret: she is betrothed to a man she's never met, the son of her father's friend back in his home village in India. "Zara Sa Jhoom Loon Main" (Let me dance a little) displays the special onscreen chemistry between SRK and Kajol, a jodi that would ultimately appear in a series of superhit films. It's another drunken song: Simran has her first taste of alcohol, and enjoys it a little too much. The music is by Jatin-Lalit, with lyrics by Anand Bakshi; Abhijeet Bhattacharya sings playback for SRK.

https://youtu.be/96YVQBjrtWE

Radha Kaise Na Jale from Lagaan (Land Tax, 2001): Asha Bhosle was ageless; her voice retained its purity and range for decade after decade. In "Radha Kaise Na Jale" (How can Radha not burn with jealousy?), Asha, approaching 70, sang the playback for Gracy Singh, who had just turned 20 and was appearing in her first starring film role. Singh plays Gauri, a young woman who has long been in love with her village's leader Bhuvan (Aamir Khan). Bhuvan has accepted the challenge of the captain in charge of the nearby British military outpost (Paul Blackthorne): if Bhuvan's villagers can beat his soldiers in a game of cricket (a game the villagers have never played), they will be spared the ruinous land tax for three years. The captain's sympathetic sister Elizabeth (Rachel Shelley) decides to help the villagers prepare for the match—and discovers her own growing love for Bhuvan. 

In "Radha Kaise Na Jale" Gauri's suspicions are enacted as she and Bhuvan adopt the ritual roles of Radha and her wayward lover Krishna. Will the ragtag villagers set aside their caste prejudices and romantic rivalries to overcome impossible odds and defeat the crack British military team in the Big Match? And will Bhuvan be tempted by the British beauty or stay true to his village sweetheart? The music is composed by A.R. Rahman, with lyrics by Javed Akhtar; Udit Narayan sings playback for Aamir Khan. 

https://youtu.be/qNnvL0ztJhA

Asha received the International Indian Film Academy Award for Best Female Playback Singer for this performance, and the Filmfare Lifetime Achievement Award in the year of Lagaan's release. With her passing, an era has ended.

Update 20 April 2026: Dustedoff, far more expert than I in the Indian films of 1950s and 1960s, has written a wonderful tribute to Asha, "Ten Composers, Ten Solos: The Magic of Asha Bhonsle." (Asha was sometimes credited under different romanized spellings of her name; in Umrao Jaan she is credited as Asha Bhonsale.) It's a complement to her earlier post "Asha in Ten Moods"; I now have a list of Asha films I'll need to track down.