Showing posts with label Jaal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jaal. Show all posts
100 years of Guru Dutt: The filmmaker who changed the way we ‘see’ songs
9:14 AM
Namrata Joshi (THE TIMES OF INDIA; July 6, 2025)
Guru Dutt was a man of many parts — a consummate actor, a perceptive writer, a trailblazing director and an accomplished producer. A significant element of his oeuvre, worth a deep dive on his birth centenary this July 9, is his flair for conceiving and conjuring up musical set-pieces that haven’t just stood the test of time but become touchstones for visualizing a film song for generations of filmmakers.
Take the most popular composition in Dutt’s romantic noir, ‘Jaal’ (1952). It comes as a double bill — two different versions in two distinct situations. Lata Mangeshkar’s sad counterpart — Chandni raatein pyaar ki baatein kho gayi jaane kahan —to the preceding S D Burman-Sahir Ludhianvi song sung by Hemant Kumar— Ye raat ye chandni phir kahan — is striking in the way Dutt slips it into his storytelling.
Fisherwoman Maria (Geeta Bali) is pining for the stranger Tony (Dev Anand) she has fallen hopelessly in love with. Her father Carlos (K N Singh) has warned the bad boy to stay away from his daughter and got her formally engaged to Simon (Ram Singh). After the church ceremony, she returns to the same spot by the beach where Tony had once serenaded her — the guitar placed in the backdrop a symbolic reminder of lost love. Once Dutt sets up the scene, he opens it deftly with Hemant’s call for love playing in the background, as a prelude and launchpad for the Lata melody. He then keeps weaving the Hemant line in and out as a memory of Tony that won’t fade.
It’s a unique aural throwback. Voice as a memory. “Filmmakers commonly use flashback of images. Guru Dutt does an audio flashback through a song split over time,” explains author-filmmaker Nasreen Munni Kabir, who made ‘In Search Of Guru Dutt’, a three-part documentary on the actor-writer-filmmaker-producer and has written two books on him.
Another song used by Guru Dutt to great cinematic effect is in the romantic comedy ‘Mr and Mrs 55’ (1955). Unlike ‘Jaal’, here the song is in the same time frame but divided across two separate spaces. Geeta Dutt warbles Preetam aan milo (originally a 1945 non-film song of C H Atma) that Anita (Madhubala) is shown listening to on the radio. As her aunt Seeta Devi (Lalita Pawar) switches it off, Dutt cuts to Preetam (Dutt himself) packing his bags to leave town with the song playing on his radio as well. The song becomes a subtle representation of the couple’s estrangement. Later, in the climax, it again plays behind the scenes but this time as a marker of their reconciliation.
“Dutt had a unique understanding of the form, the shot-taking and editing across time and space. His songs are pure cinema,” says Kabir. Dutt’s songs were integral and drove the narrative, be it any genre he directed — the early crime thrillers, the romantic dramas in the middle and the two classic tragedies that have immortalised him. A Guru Dutt song had an identity of its own while always being in harmony with the larger picture. “Just listening to the songs can give you the vision of a Guru Dutt film even though you may not have seen it,” says film historian Pavan Jha.
The magic of black and white and his steady collaborator, cinematographer V K Murthy, were keys to his singular craft such as the signature tracking shots, the eloquent closeups, use of light and shade, the looming shadows and the elemental melancholia alongside slivers of desultory merriment. “The vision was Guru Dutt’s, but Murthy was the one to execute it,” says Jha. Their most potent collaboration was in Waqt ne kiya (‘Kaagaz Ke Phool’, 1959) with the play of light writing exquisite poetry on Waheeda Rehman’s face.
There are several seminal aspects to a quintessential Guru Dutt song. The special way he framed the scenes like the iconic “poet Vijay (Dutt) as Christ image” in Ye duniya agar mil bhi jaaye to kya hai (‘Pyaasa’, 1957). Or the way he designed Saakiya aaj mujhe neend nahin aayegi in ‘Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam’ (1962), a film credited to Abrar Alvi with speculations of Dutt having ghost-directed parts of it. In the song, the lead Meenu Mumtaz’s face is brightly lit to keep the focus on her, while the background dancers stay in the shade. The years spent at Uday Shankar’s cultural centre in Almora would have been crucial in imparting Dutt a sense of rhythm that is reflected in the tempo and flow of his scenes and song sequences. Dutt alternates between the Baul singer and Gulabo (Waheeda Rehman) in Aaj sajan mohe ang laga lo in ‘Pyaasa’ to create an inimitable mix of the sacred and the profane as an expression of her inner desires.
Though he gets identified with melancholy, some of his best songs have a conversational beat and a sense of playful banter like Taqdeer se bigdi hui and Aaj ki raat piya (‘Baazi’, 1951); Chori chori meri gali aana hai bura (‘Jaal’); Mohabbat karlo jee bharlo, Ye lo main haari piya, Babuji dheere chalna, Kabhi aar kabhi paar and Sun sun sun sun zaalima, all in ‘Aar Paar’ (1954), the last one with another version, Ja ja ja ja bewafa.
On the other hand, a seemingly fun song like Sar jo tera chakraaye in ‘Pyaasa’ becomes an oblique but effective comment on class divides. And who can forget the scathing critique and protest embedded not just in Sahir’s words, but the many tableaus of nation’s troubles and the wry cynicism of Dutt’s face filmed in Jinhe naaz hai hind par wo kahan hain?
Guru Dutt is one of the rare Indian directors to have made a film both his crowning achievement and a grand box-office failure — ‘Kaagaz Ke Phool’ (1959). Instead of lengthy dialogue, the almost five-minute song Ud ja ud ja pyaase bhanware captures the once-successful Suresh Sinha (Dutt) — now lonely and forgotten — meeting his end on his rightful director’s chair.
It’s with the likes of Guru Dutt that songs have spoken louder, and more profoundly, than words.
100th anniversary special: How Guru Dutt made the camera sing
9:12 AM
The director of Pyaasa and Kaagaz Ke Phool, whose 100th birthday anniversary falls on July 9, brought a lyricism to his craft that shone through in some unforgettable tracks
Avijit Ghosh (THE TIMES OF INDIA; July 6, 2025)
Songs are bookmarks of mainstream Hindi films. Long after a movie disappears from theatres and memories, they suddenly waft over a cabbie’s FM radio or emerge on an algorithm-driven app. They become a movie’s reference point, keeping them alive. In Guru Dutt films, the songs are more eloquent. Works of care and empathy, they not only take you on a guided tour of his art and aesthetics, but also offer a peep into his emotional world.
The songs also carry his signature. Dutt, who spent his early years in Kolkata, loved dance, having trained at visionary dancer-choreographer Uday Shankar’s centre in Almora and performed with his troupe. The films he made had a dance director but his contribution to their picturization is well-acknowledged.
“He was the first to make the songs visually interesting... he gave them much thought, he would spend nights thinking of song situations,” lyricist Majrooh Sultanpuri is quoted as saying in Yasser Usman’s biography of the actor-producer-director.
Tight close-ups, interplay of light and shade, symmetry of movement — Dutt, in tandem with cinematographer V K Murthy, produced a bouquet of soundtracks that feel contemporary even today, both visually and musically. They also provide meanings beyond the frame. Here are four songs, all from black-andwhite movies directed by him, that offer a glimpse into his craft:
HOON ABHI MAIN JAWAAN AE DIL
FILM: Aar Paar, 1954
MUSIC: O P Nayyar
LYRICS: Majrooh Sultanpuri
SINGER: Geeta Dutt
In ‘Aar Paar’, Dutt lensed songs in the unlikeliest of places: a construction site (‘ Kabhi aar kabhi paar’), a taxi (‘Ee lo main haari piya ), a garage (‘Sun sun zalima’). ‘Hoon abhi main jawan ae dil ’ is set in a storeroom of sorts. The actual filming hardly uses 10ftx10ft space. But we never feel the need for more.
The track begins with the sound of the accordion. The movie is halfway through and we see the back of a familiar head, the one always with a tilted cap and mostly a cigarette on lips. The protagonist follows the music. Philosophically, ‘Hoon abhi main jawaan ae dil’ is the B side of ‘Babu ji dheere chalna, pyaar mein zara sambhalna’.
The gangster’s moll (played by Shakila) who invitingly sang those words of warning, while dancing amidst covetous men in a crammed nightclub, did not follow her own advice. She has fallen for the amiable rake whose heart belongs to another girl. Unrequited love has taken the fire out of her eyes. But she doesn’t want to be pitied. When she falls on the ground and the protagonist picks her up, she gently brushes him off. She has lost in love, but she isn’t a loser. Through these little directorial gestures, Dutt imbues her persona with strength and beauty. The song is filmed in tender close-ups, underlying the director’s empathy for the outsider.
JAANE KAHAN MERA JIGAR GAYA JEE
FILM: Mr & Mrs 55, 1955
MUSIC: O P Nayyar
LYRICS: Majrooh Sultanpuri
SINGER: Geeta Dutt, Mohd Rafi
Offices served as avenues for fun numbers in the past, too, notably ‘Lara lappa’ (film: Ek Thhi Ladki, 1949). But in this romantic comedy by Dutt, we witness Office Romance 2.0 in the energy and the effervescence of funnyman Johnny Walker and Yasmin, the dimpled steno with eyes that seem eager to spring out of their sockets. The newspaper office transforms into the most romantic place in the world.
Majrooh prefers using ‘jigar’, instead of the normally used ‘dil’ for heart. And it adds to the song’s distinctiveness. So does the expression, ‘Kahin maare dar ke chuha to nahi ho gaya’. How many times before or since have we heard of the heart being compared to a rat? Crawling on the floor in search of a lost heart, amid chairs, tables and typewriters, never looked cuter.
THANDI HAWA KAALI GHATA
FILM: Mr and Mrs 55, 1955
MUSIC: O P Nayyar
LYRICS: Majrooh Sultanpuri
SINGER: Mohd Rafi, Geeta Dutt
We don’t feel the breeze blowing. Or, see the dark clouds the song talks about. Shot by an open swimming pool at Bombay’s well-known PM Hindu Bath in Chowpatty, ‘Thandi hawa kaali ghata’, could have been just another number that a heroine and her friends sing in a 1950s movie. Only that it is better and different. The camera showcases and maximizes every inch of the physical space that the outdoors offers. The track is marked by a fluidity and symmetry of movement, evident in every frame. The girls slide slowly on the railing. The distant men swim to its melody. And the boys dive into the pool to its rhythm. It is the twirling umbrellas, though, that’s the song’s takeaway visual. Holding these, the group of girls, with the ethereal Madhubala in lead, frolic and frisk like a musical marching band. The track is more than its infectious melody and easy-on-the lips lyrics. It is a celebration of space, freedom and dancing umbrellas.
BICHDE SABHI BAARI BAARI
FILM: Kaagaz Ke Phool, 1959
MUSIC: S D Burman
LYRICS: Kaifi Azmi
SINGER: Mohd Rafi
He walks into an empty studio, a metaphor for his own isolation. Everything is in the shadows. He, too, is a shadow of his old self. This was his empire. The empire remains, but the kings have changed. He is a trainwreck now; broken in personal and professional life. The protagonist’s life, told in flashback, begins with the song that has the melody of a requiem, its words his distilled truth of the film world. The track sets the movie’s tone, prepares us for the denouement.
The movie ends with the song, too. The man who had created the star is worn out, like the sweater he is wearing. But she, his one-time protégé, recognizes him. He can’t bear to talk to her and runs away as the song plays in the background. When he steps out of the studio gates, she cannot catch up with him as fans besiege her. The film cuts back to the scene where it all began. The perch where he sees his life flash by. How it starts and how it ends. The silence that accompanies the protagonist’s death is music at its best. It’s hard to encapsulate a life in a song. Guru Dutt Padukone captures it.
Just before he died, Dutt had planned a visit to TOI office
On Oct 7, 1964, a reporter from TOI visited Guru Dutt Studios, where ‘Baharen Phir Bhi Aayengi’ was being shot. Dutt was playing a journalist in the film and asked the reporter if he could visit the newspaper’s Bombay office for research. A visit was planned. But three days later, Dutt was found dead. There was a Hindi novel by his side, and a glass with a pink liquid — sleeping pills Sonaril crushed and dissolved in water. The movie would be finished with Dharmendra in the lead.
(Source: Guru Dutt: An Unfinished Story by Yasser Usman)
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COMING SOON: SEVEN RESTORED DUTT FILMS
Seven Guru Dutt films, including the iconic Pyaasa (1957), are being restored by National Film Archives of India (NFAI) as part of the National Film Heritage Mission (NFHM), a govt-funded initiative for digitisation and restoration of Indian cinema.
The other films are: Baazi (1951), Jaal (1952), Baaz (1953), Aar Paar (1954), Mr. & Mrs. 55 (1955), and Chaudhvin Ka Chand (1960). Barring the last, which was directed by M Sadiq, the other films were all directed by Dutt, whose 100th birth anniversary falls on July 9.
“The restoration is likely to be complete by Aug 15. The larger aim is to exhibit the restored films on the big screen after discussion with the rights holders,” said Prakash Magdum, managing director, NFDC-NFAI. NHFM’s budget is about Rs 550 crore.
Experienced industry professionals have been brought in for the task. “Senior cinematographers, familiar with Dutt’s cinematographer V K Murthy’s work, are supervising the restoration,” Magdum said.
The restoration is being done keeping in mind a film’s genre. Chaudvin Ka Chand was a blockbuster romantic drama where Dutt played the lead. The film’s music, composed by Ravi, was a chartbuster. “It was important for us to maintain the vocal texture as well as the innocence in the vocals to do complete justice to the landmark songs in this film,” said Leenali Khairnar, manager, film preservation, NFDC-NFAI.
“The music was rather muffled in the original print we had. We were fortunate that another print with a matching film type had the desired quality and punch. We restored from the primary print and replaced the songs from the alternative source, which allowed us to bring out what was perhaps intended by Dutt,” she said.
Earlier this year, NFDC-NFAI had restored Muzaffar Ali’s Umrao Jaan (1981). Sholay (1975), now in its golden jubilee year, was restored by Shivendra Singh Dungarpur’s Film Heritage Foundation. — Avijit Ghosh
The dreams and unfulfilled promises of Guru Dutt and Dev Anand
7:51 AM
Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; September 28, 2017)
It was a washerman who forged the connection by inadvertently exchanging their laundered shirts. Dev Anand and Guru Dutt turned up at a Pune studio wearing each other’s shirts and instantly gravitated towards each other, laughing over their dhobi’s mistake. One was the debutante hero of Prabhat’s Hum Ek Hain and the other, an assistant director-choreographer. During the shoot, the two starry-eyed strugglers quickly entered into a pact — if Dev produced a film, he’d take Guru Dutt as the director, and the latter promised to cast him as the hero in his directorial.
Dev saab kept his word and after the debacles of Afsar and Aandhiyan, launched his friend as the director of Navketan’s Baazi in 1951, which turned out to be a big break not just for the duo, but also for its lyricist Sahir Ludhianvi, composer S D Burman, comedian Johnny Walker and actresses Geeta Bali and Kalpana Kartik. Dev went on to marry Kalpana while Guru Dutt tied the knot with singer Geeta Dutt, whom he’d met while recording of the song, “Tadbeer Se Bigdi Hui Taqdeer Bana De.”
“That song brought Guru Dutt and Geeta together, but it also created some friction between S D Burman and Sahir, who was upset that his philosophical number had been turned into a peppy track,” reveals Mohan Churiwala, a close associate of Dev Anand.
Despite the behind-the-scenes friction, Baazi went on to bust the box office and Guru Dutt started a film titled Baaz. Forgetting his promise to his friend, he cast himself in the lead opposite Geeta Bali, but couldn’t replicate the success of Baazi. “Even though he claimed he wanted to be a director, Guru Dutt secretly aspired to be an actor too. Even in Baazi, he popped up in the first scene, sitting on the footpath watching the villain’s sidekick, Rashid Khan, step out of the car and walk into a club where he makes the acquaintance of a card shark played by Dev saab,” informs Churiwala.
After Baaz, Guru Dutt went on to play a cabbie in Aar Paar, which came in the same year (1954) as Dev saab’s Taxi Driver, followed by Mr & Mrs 55. It was only in ’56 that he cast his friend in CID, which he produced, but was directed by Raj Khosla, who’d come to Mumbai with dreams of becoming a playback singer and gone on to assist Guru Dutt in Baazi on Dev saab’s recommendation. Dutt, however, directed TR Fatehchand’s 1952 crime thriller, Jaal, repeating the Baazi jodi, along with K N Singh.
Churiwala recalls how KN Singh had persuaded Dev saab, a teetotaler, to gulp down a glass or two of Feni on the last day of shooting in Goa, assuring him that it was a local, non-alcoholic drink. The next morning, at around 6.30 am, Dev saab left for Mumbai in his Chevrolet Impala, with Geeta sitting beside him, her sister and his chauffeur at the back. “Dev saab was a little drowsy and hungover from the Feni he had drank and was happy to drive sedately. But Geeta egged him on and he put his foot down on the accelerator and the big car was soon racing down the highway. Then, for a split second he shut his eyes, and the car crashed into a tree. His expensive car was totaled and the steering wheel rammed into his chest, cracking a few ribs. Geeta sustained a few bruises on the head. The villagers rushed him to Pune’s Sassoon Hospital where he was treated by Dr Shriram Lagoo, whom he later signed for films like Lootmaar and Des Pardes,” says Churiwala
Despite the crash, Jaal made the cash counters jingle to the tune of Lata Mangeshkar and Hemant Kumar’s chartbuster, “Yeh Raat, Yeh Chandni Phir Kahan, Sun Ja Dil Ki Dastaan.” But the friendship that had begun with rainbow-hued dreams ended with disillusionment, despair and an untimely death. Guru Dutt was a broken man after the debacle of his passion project, Kagaz Ke Phool, and never directed another film. But Churiwala remembers that three days before he passed away, he told Dev saab that he wanted to make a film with him as the hero. Once again he didn’t keep his promise. Their next meeting was in Guru Dutt’s bedroom, as he lay lifeless on the bed. Dev saab outlived his friend by almost five decades. Had he been around, he’d have turned 94 on September 26, and would probably be in the middle of directing a film. For him, dreams didn’t die, and promises were made to be kept.
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