BMC wants to create a 1,000-bed facility for Coronavirus patients at the venue where classics such as Mother India and Guide were shot; Residents fear a common stormwater drain will bring the virus into their homes; BMC says not yet decided whether high-risk contacts will be quarantined at the studio
Linah Baliga (MUMBAI MIRROR; May 25, 2020)

The BMC’s proposal to convert Mehboob Studio in Bandra into a 1,000-bed quarantine centre has met with stiff opposition from residents, who fear the move will expose them to pathogen risks, especially with monsoon round the corner. In a petition to the BMC, the residents have highlighted the risks posed by a common stormwater drain that carries the studio’s debris to the residential area.

Constructed in 1954 by director Mehboob Khan who shot the iconic Mother India at the studio in 1957, Mehboob Studio has been the venue of some of Bollywood’s best known movies such as Guide, Sangam, and more recently Chennai Express and Simmba.

With Mumbai reporting over a thousand corona-positive cases every day, the BMC is looking to take over all large properties and turn those into quarantine facilities. A few days ago, the civic body decided to take over the Wankhede Stadium at Churchgate, but hastily abandoned the plan on the ground that it will not be sustainable in the monsoon.

Hubert D, a resident of St Sebastian’s Colony on Rebello Road, said: “This is a low-lying area. Mehboob Studio is at the heart of a residential area, with the studio walls running along a housing society and other residential areas that have many senior citizens and children, who are prone to the virus.” The residents argued that the stormwater outlet from the rear, eastern side of the studio connects to the gutters on St Roque Road. Every year debris (plastic paper cups, plates and bottles) and waste from the studio finds its way to the common stormwater drains, they said.

If the studio waste finds its way to the stormwater drains – “which it will as in the past years” – using the studio premises as a Covid-19 facility will pose a huge risk to people, Hubert said.

Derek Talker, a resident of Mount Mary’s Road, told Mirror that they have suggested alternative locations at MET, which is on BMC land and has ready infrastructure to handle such requirements, with rooms and toilet facilities.

“The other location is 81 Aureate, an illegal building near MTNL on reclamation now in the hands of authorities. It has ready rooms and infrastructure facilities. The expense of building infrastructure would be minimal as compared to creating it from scratch,” said Talker.

Peter Gomes, a resident of St Roque Road, said Chief Minister Uddhav Thackeray wanted to allow movie shoots to recommence at the studio. Vinayak Vispute, assistant commissioner, H West Ward, said the proposal is yet to be finalised. “The higher authorities will decide whether it will be high-risk contacts or asymptomatic positive patients who are sent here,” said Vispute.

BOMBAY TIMES (March 27, 2020)

Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; May 31, 2018)

Every year, as the world gears up for the Academy Awards, at least one movie aficionado will remind you that an Indian film almost brought home the Oscar for India in the Best Foreign Language Film category. Many will immediately remember Aamir Khan’s Lagaan and sigh over the fact that the 2001 release was outpaced by No Man’s Land, a Bosnian drama. Few will recall that 44 years before Lagaan, Mehboob Khan’s epic drama Mother India lost out by a solitary vote in the third round to the Italian film, Nights Of Cabiria. However, it’s leading lady Nargis bagged not only the Filmfare Best Actress Award but was also feted at the prestigious Karlovy Vary International Film Festival for perhaps the most defining performance of her career.

With make-up and the power of histrionics, the 26-year-old actress had brought to life the trials and tribulations of a blushing bride who weathers every adversity imaginable, from floods and famine to drought and desertion, starvation and alienation. Suddenly a single parent and the family’s sole breadwinner after her weak-willed husband steals out of home never to return, she metamorphoses into Mother Earth, picking up the plough to feed her children. When life gets tougher, she transforms into the Mother Goddess, moving from a virtuous Sati-Savitri to a fiery Durga- Kali who shoots dead her rebellious younger son Birju to save the honour of the daughter of the village money lender, who had once offered her food in return for her body.

With plenty of drama and melodrama, Nargis turned into the archetypal screen mother even though in real life she was still unmarried and two years away from becoming a mother to son Sanjay, born on July 29, 1959, who was not unlike Birju, given his battle with drugs and his brushes with the law. Interestingly, her son’s real father, Sunil Dutt, played Birju in reel life.

On March 11, 1958, close to midnight, Nargis became Mrs Dutt. The wedding may not have happened had the nervous groom, who had arrived on the dot of 7 pm, got tired of waiting for the bride and driven away thinking he had been stood up. Caught in a traffic jam, Nargis reportedly turned up three hours late and the first person she saw outside Mumbai’s Arya Samaj Hall was Sunil Dutt who hadn’t moved an inch from his designated spot in all the time.

It’s strange how destiny charts the course of many a journey. Had Mehboob Khan not listened to his writers and stuck to his original casting, Dilip Kumar would have played both father and son in the film or maybe Hollywood’s Elephant Boy Sabu stepped into Burju’s shoes. Had Nargis not broken an almost-exclusive contract with RK, she might not have played Radha. And had these two roads not crisscrossed, maybe the love story of Mr and Mrs Dutt may never have even been written.

Or maybe it may have been plotted, anyway. Radio announcer Balraj (Sunil) Dutt had been roped in to play the good older son, Ramu (later enacted by Rajendra Kumar) and only landed this part after Sabu’s exit and then won Nargis’s lifelong gratitude and love by saving her from a fire.

It sparked off in a haystack on the afternoon of March 1, 1957, in the village of Umra, trapping her in a ring of flames. As everyone watched in horror, Sunil jumped into the blazing inferno, swept Nargis up in his arms and dashed back for safety, ensuring that though bruised and slightly burnt, they both lived to see another dawn.

From that day he was a real hero in Nargis’s eyes. Yet, when news of their marriage leaked, many were convinced it wouldn’t last beyond six months. It lasted for 23 years and only ended with Nargis’s death on May 3, 1981. By then, she had mothered not just Sanjay, but two daughters, Namrata and Priya, too.

Mother India was a remake of Mehboob Khan’s 1940 black-and-white film, Aurat, with his wife Sardar Akhtar in the lead. That film had its genesis in Maxim Gorky and Pearl S Buck’s novels, Mother and The Good Earth, and over the next half a century, many actresses have aspired to mould their own Mother India but the original remains an icon. Was it just a coincidence that Nargis and Sunil Dutt were born in the same month, just days apart, she on June 1, he on June 6. And like his beloved Mrs Dutt, he too quietly said goodbye to the world in May — May 25, 2005 — and so did their mentor–director Mehboob Khan on May 28, 1964. Maybe this was another of destiny’s designs.

Meena Iyer (DNA; February 1, 2018)

As you alight from a taxi in a quiet Juhu bylane, your eyes darting left to right to spot where Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s office could possibly be, a police jeep comes into your vision. And you know immediately that behind the intimidating brown gates is where the man is “imprisoned.’’

When the gate slams shut, a name and reference check is done. And then, a dozen safari suit-clad men with walkie-talkies point you in the right direction. Finally, you are seated opposite SLB, who is dressed in his signature kurta-pyjama. His mop of grey hair and dark-rimmed glasses lend style to his carefully-built persona. He is celebrating the runaway success of his magnum opus with chocolate. Urging you to dig in, he indicates that he is ready to talk. And so, we ask:

Padmaavat continues to go through a lot of strife…
Yes, but Padmaavat is blessed. There are creative angels who come and bless such films. There is some divine energy that says this is the way it should be. It is fascinating to go with the flow. If you are supposed to face the attacks or these kind of protests that we have gone through, it’s a part of the film’s destiny. All I can say is that it just makes you stronger and wants you to make the movie better. When your whole being is at stake and you feel that you are going to perish, you give the thing on hand your best shot. Then things unfold in a way. So, from January 27, 2017, when we were attacked in Jaipur to January 25 this year when the film released, it has been one whole year of strife. I cannot describe all that my team and I went through.

Why didn’t you speak earlier?
A lot of people said that I didn’t answer or defend myself. I didn’t come out in the open to speak or react. But my only reaction was to make the film better. If it hit the screen, which it seemed would be almost impossible at one point, that itself would have been a victory. At the cost of repeating myself, I must say that movies like Padmaavat are destined. How can the same set of people (actor, technicians) who have worked on this film and go to another film, are not able to achieve the same kind of results that this movie has? There is some divine energy. When a film reaches a theatre, that is the happiest journey for me because there is no greater joy than that final lap from the laboratory to the screen. That is what you live for. When the first frame is beamed on the screen, it is the most fascinating and satisfying moment for me even after all these years and so many films. It is a moment to die for.

Do you agree that you have achieved a cult status in Bollywood?
I don’t know who says what. All I know is that there’s a madness that is growing within me. I constantly strive to say something bigger and better. There is a time when you evolve. You feel that you have understood your craft, signature and style of filmmaking. You know you are more adept at doing things and find that rhythm slowly over the years. That’s what I think has happened to me. I found scale during my Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam and Devdas days. But the journey between Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-leela and Padmaavat taught me so many other aspects. It is very difficult to make a big-scale film. What people call, ‘the big-screen experience’, is hard to achieve.

All that I loved about music, drama; all that I have learnt from Raj Kapoor, K Asif or Kamal Amrohi, V Shantaram and Mehboob Khan, I started finding and putting it together. I have also deeply admired Ramesh Sippy (of Sholay fame). I’m constantly imbibing the energies of these great men with vision and talking to them. So, I’m discovering far more than the basic box-office collection.

You said Ram Leela was a learning curve...
I started finding the rhythm of the shot for the first time during Ram Leela. I made sure the sur and the scale didn’t go wrong. I found some joy in making Padmaavat irrespective of the problems that I encountered.

Is it right to say that you have been obsessed with your ideas long before your films went on floors?
I took 12 years to make Bajirao Mastani. I waited nine years to make Ram Leela and I had to wait eight years from the time I did Padmavati, the opera on stage, in Paris to get to the film. I’ve enjoyed making these movies so much. They were very challenging. How to put things into a big frame and how to spend money are things that I’m obsessing about all the time. You know budgets become available to you but how you spend that money in the correct way is important. And I really don’t care whether the films brought in the numbers at the box office or not. I never work with that fear.

One never hears of you taking a holiday...
People say why don’t you go on a holiday and I tell them I only want to go to the studio. I want to go to Film City and Mehboob Studios and sit over there. So often, when I’m crossing Bandra, I make it a point to drive into the Mehboob Studio compound, sit there and just stare. That is the kind of love that I have for cinema.

That’s why you have been labelled eccentric…
(Laughs) They can call me what they want. If I’m happy and I enjoy taking that detour into the studio compound and saluting the memory of Mehboob Khan, then let me be. Perhaps the energies of Mehboob saab will get into me and his soul will bless me. Who knows? I like doing that, so I do it. I go to V Shantaram’s Rajkamal Studio in Parel for my mixing. And when I stroll in that place, I can feel his energy and soul. His trophies... the smell in that re-recording studio which has been exactly the same over the years. I had gone there first when I was remixing for Parinda (1989) because I was an assistant with Vidhu Vinod Chopra.

It does matter right that Padmaavat will cross the 150 crore mark today?
It’s so nice to know that the audience wants to see your work. A film without an audience makes no sense. When they say, ‘We now understand your signature and style of filmmaking, so we come to see your film,’ it’s a great high. Whether it has Ranveer (Singh) and Deepika (Padukone which is an added attraction), they come to see my film. I personally thank god for this blessing because even if I’ve been cursed with all these innumerous problems — over the years which I have fought — inner demons and external problems — I’ve also been blessed by God because he has said, ‘Ok fine, you get a style and signature, you have an audience, you do not need anything more.’ Who puts in Rs 180 crore to make a film? It is easier said than done. I would say I’m more blessed than I’m cursed. Even though Padmaavat has gone through so many problems, today it is getting its due.

You have done three films with Aishwarya (Rai Bachchan) and three with Deepika. Is it time to look for a new muse?
Deepika is so fabulous; she is such a jaan. I just love her. All her hard work and brilliance that she brings to the set is effortless. She does her preparation but there is none of the—I AM PREPARED FOR A ROLE—heaviness around her. It is done with so much silence. It’s such a pleasure to work with someone who does what she is doing at that moment with absolute honesty. She’s an actor who feels so honestly and simply, but her performances are detailed and nuanced. I’m not done with her yet.

What about Ranveer Singh who seems to be your favourite?
No other filmmaker understands Ranveer the way I do. Ranveer and I have a great chemistry and understanding. I know how to direct him and I’m aware about his limitations and strengths. I know what to do with him. He’s a very special actor. He has so much energy. I only feel he puts too much effort into ‘I did my research and I went here and did that’, all that I understand. For him to pursue his greatness, he has to be a little more effortless. He is fantastic. I am not done with him either.

Shahid was the new energy on your set?
Shahid was a new energy on set because I hadn’t worked with him before. It was interesting to see how a new actor works. He is a great-looking kid. He is extremely talented and so effortless. He is constantly wanting to become better. He would say, ‘I’m unhappy with that shot. Can I do this better?’ And I would tell him, ‘Can you stop pushing yourself. And punishing yourself because I know what I want from you.’ It was great working with him. He gave Maharawal Ratan Singh such dignity and silence. It was a nuanced and delicate performance. I’m so proud of what he has done in this film. Ranveer obviously had the author-backed role and he has come out with flying colours in it because of the range, but to play a straight and understated part, yet to make your presence felt is very difficult. Deepika and Shahid look so good together. I wish they do more films with each other.

Aren’t you being too harsh on yourself by completely isolating yourself from the world?
I’m in a zone. I’ve not met anyone. I only live for my films. I do not feel I’m too harsh on myself. I’m enjoying it immensely. Once I start a film, I’m like that person who is sitting in a yagna completely consumed by the puja and the process. I’m in that meditative state where I see nothing, but my film. Even if I’ve been physically attacked or my set has been ransacked, my first reaction is, ‘Oh god, that shot, which we had set up, was so beautiful! Where will I take it?’ The humiliation and the anger of what I went through became secondary in so many ways. My film mattered to me. I saw a film called Sant Tukaram so many years ago. When Tukaram was asked anything, he would say ‘Vithal, Vithal.’ And you would wonder what he meant. Today, I understand what it means because for me it is only films. I have become Tukaram.

Doesn’t all work and no play make you dull?
The emotions that I may deprive myself of in terms of relationships don’t matter. I live my life through my films. It is such a joy. Nothing distracts me. I just want to make bigger and better films. I’m constantly asking myself, ‘How do I evolve further?’ I’ve done a lot of introspection to reach this stage. If a film worked, I’ve never got up and said, ‘Wow, my movie worked. Bro, let us have a party.’ For me, it is how do I get better. How do I get one more star from a reviewer? How do I become a better person and a better filmmaker? Which is why you are finding a slow growth in my films from Ram Leela to Padmaavat. The search for excellence doesn’t die. It is getting more and more pronounced. And I’m living it completely.

Anvar Alikhan (THE TIMES OF INDIA; February 28, 2016)

Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; September 22, 2015)

When Vijay Anand was studying at St. Xavier's College, he often passed Metro Cinema and caught black-marketeers in action as they peddled tickets of blockbuster movies with the oft-repeated, "Dedh ka do..." The words stuck in his head and in 1960, inspired Navketan's Kala Bazar.

The film revolved around a black-marketeer, Raghuvir, transformed by the love of a woman who is pledged to another. Both the Anand brothers, Dev and Goldie, were vying for Alka, played by Waheeda Rehman, but never come face-to-face on screen.

However, Dev had many scenes with his elder brother, Chetan, who played an advocate whose money finances Raghu's black-marketing business. Once the money starts rolling in, the thief with a conscience returns to confess to his crime and repay his debt. This inspires the lawyer to defend him in court later, arguing that circumstances led him astray and he should be given the opportunity to repent.

"The film's message was that crime doesn't pay and makes a strong case for education which can change one's life. All three Anand brothers were well educated and Kala Bazar was the only film to bring them together," says Mohan Churiwala, a close associate of Dev.

One of the film's highlights was Mother India's grand premiere at Liberty Cinema, which its filmmaker, Mehboob Khan gave Dev permission to shoot live and incorporate it in his film. It was a star studded affair with a host of big Bollywood names, from Sohrab Modi, Nargis, Dilip Kumar and Nimmi to Raaj Kumar, Rajendra Kumar and Nadira, walking the red carpet. There were also 'cameos' by the star singers, from Geeta Dutt and husband Guru Dutt to Kishore Kumar, Lata Mangeskhar and Mohd. Rafi. Churiwala points out that Raghu sells tickets priced at Rs 2 for Rs 100. "This was happening outside Liberty too. Goldie saab mixed shots of real black-marketeers with Devsaab's play acting. Later, everyone went inside to watch the movie," he says.

For the first time SD Burman was collaborating with a lyricist new to Navketan, Shailendra, and the result is pure magic. Churiwala recalls the Rafi gem, Khoya khoya chand, which was filmed in Ooty. Shailendra hadn't delivered the song despite repeated reminders so Goldie sent his assistant to his house with strict instructions not to return without the lyrics. Shailendra confessed that he hadn't written it yet and suggested that they go for a drive.

"At Juhu Beach he went for a stroll in the moonlight, returned to the car with the words, 'Khoya khoya chand,' on his mind. Back home, he penned the song which the assistant took back to Goldie saab," says Churiwala.

He also remembers that while filming Manna Dey and Asha Bhosle's romantic Saanjh dhali dil ki lagi in Ooty, Dev tripped and fell, hurting his hand. It was a hairline fracture and he must have been in pain, but since the camera was still whirring, he picked himself up and continued with the shot till Goldie saab shouted, 'Cut'.

Geeta Dutt and Sudha Malhotra's bhajan, Na main dhan chahoon, crooned by Leela Chitnis and Nanda who play Raghu's mother and sister in the film, is also sublime. "Nandaji was overwhelmed when Dev saab approached her but disappointed when she heard that it was another 'chhoti bahen's role," says Churiwala. Her uncle, V Shantaram's Toofan Aur Deeya in '56, followed by Bhabhi, had slotted her as the long-suffering, deglamorised sister and almost triggered a nervous breakdown.

Dev assured her he'd cast her as his heroine in his next film, wowed when an emotional Nanda continued to shed real tears 10 minutes after a rona-dhona scene in Kala Bazar. "She was the leading lady of Teen Devian," adds Churiwala. "And even though the writer of Hum Dono was pushing for Meena Kumari, he signed Nanda as the Major's ailing wife."