Showing posts with label Romu Sippy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romu Sippy. Show all posts

Hrishikesh Mukherjee would insist on travelling by train, by second class sleeper-Romu Sippy

Hrishikesh Mukherjee with Rajesh Khanna and Amitabh Bachchan on the set of Anand

Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; October 1, 2020)

Had he still been around, Hrishikesh Mukherjee would have turned 98 on Wednesday, September 30. Surprisingly, while it’s not difficult for me to imagine Dev Anand saab as an energetic nonagenarian, I remember Hrishi da from our few meetings as a melancholic man in his eighties, crippled by arthritis and surrounded by his many dogs as he half-reclined on bed. The mention of dogs strikes a chord with producer Romu Sippy, who recalls his father N C Sippy (left)’s director-friend and one-time production partner casually chatting with guests while removing ticks from the pet cradled in his lap.

“Dada was a simple, unassuming gentleman with no demands. A producer’s director, he kept a hawk-eye on the film’s budget and never indulged. Even when my father, Dada, and I went location hunting, he would insist we check into a no-frills PWD guesthouse for the night. If my father walked into a five-star hotel, he’d chide him, saying, ‘Why are you wasting money?’” Romu ji reminisces, sharing that, at times, Hrishi da would insist on travelling by train, occasionally by second class sleeper, because “if life took a downturn, I should not find it difficult to return to my roots”.

He informs that it was on the behest of singer-composer Hemant Kumar that his father collaborated with Hrishi da on the 1965 period drama, Do Dil, featuring Biswajeet as a prince who, while touring his kingdom in the guise of a common man, learns about women being harassed and back in the palace, when he tries to put an end to this, is drawn into a life-threatening fencing duel with his villainous minister, played by Pran. “During the Jaipur schedule, Pran saab designed and choreographed those sword fights,” reveals Romu ji. Do Dil was followed by Aashirwad three years later. It was memorable for Ashok Kumar’s rap song, “Rail Gaadi” and bagged him the National Award and the Filmfare Award for Best Actor, along with the National Award for Best Feature Film in Hindi.

Guddi, Anand, Bawarchi, Mili, Alaap, Gol Maal and Khubsoorat followed and thrived from an unspoken pact between Sippy saab and Hrishi da, wherein there was a clear demarcation of administrative and creative responsibilities with neither questioning the other. “My father never visited the sets of any of Dada’s films; they had blind faith in each other,” says Romu ji (right).

He confides that there are two films from their library that he holds close to his heart. One is Hrishi da’s Anand , the other, his brother Raj Sippy’s Satte Pe Satta, because neither has got boring, slow, or outdated with time. “Even today, if you watch Anand, it will make you cry, while Satte Pe Satta will still make you laugh,” he reasons, recalling an anecdote from Anand. “I’m told Amitabh (Bachchan) had a problem with the kurta he was wearing in a scene. He complained about the fit or maybe the length to Dada who, nodding his head sagely, told him, “Don’t worry, we will fix your problem,” and removing his own kurta, offered it to him, saying he could wear it. Amitabh never took the chance of complaining again,” he chuckles at the memory.

Gol Maal brought on the laughs too, and Romu ji believes its enduring appeal has a lot to do with Amol Palekar’s character Ram Prasad Sharma whose one lie forces him to fabricate a twin, Lakshman aka Lucky and occasionally masquerade as him. “The character is so true-to-life that it’s easy for people to identify with him. Amol’s performance was complemented by Utpal Dutt’s; he was absolutely fabulous as Bhavani Shankar, the boss Ram tries to hoodwink,” he smiles.

I love every one of Hrishi da’s films and being a Bengali, can trace the roots of Chupke Chupke to the Uttam Kumar-Madhabi Mukherjee laugh riot, Chhadmabeshi, which came four years earlier. Bawarchi is a remake of Golpo Holeo Shotti with Rajesh Khanna stepping in for Rabi Ghosh to play the cook who reunites the Sharma family. I remember Hrishi da telling me that Raghu was a lot like his own father. “Baba was a student of chemistry who had graduated first class first,” informed one of my favourite directors, who himself had graduated in chemistry, taught mathematics and science, before signing up with Kolkata’s New Theatres studio because he enjoyed photography. “He loved cooking, and thanks to his science background, he sometimes made cosmetics for the women in the family.”

That was Hrishi da’s world which his films mirrored. No wonder it’s hard to forget them or him.

Hrishikesh Mukherjee had filmed just 9,000 feet of Anand's reel when we submitted for National Awards-Romu Sippy


Hrishikesh Mukherjee with Rajesh Khanna and Amitabh Bachchan during Namak Haraam; Samit Bhanja and Jaya Bhaduri in Guddi (below)

Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; August 30, 2018)

The name Hrishikesh Mukherjee instantly brings to mind some much-loved classics, from Anand, Guddi and Bawarchi to Mili, Chupke Chupke, Gol Maal and Khubsoorat. But there is one other name, or rather two, that are invariably overlooked when we talk about these movies, that of N C Sippy who produced them with Hrishida, and his son Romu who was the executive producer on some of them. “I’ve yet to see a relationship like the one Dada and my father shared. They did what each specialized in without any questions asked,” says Romu.

While Hrishida picked his subject, developed the script, spoke to the actors and shot the film the way he wanted, N C Sippy raised money, sold the film and gave it a good release, no one interfering with the other. “So close were they personally and so congenial professionally that they formed a production company, Rupam Chitra, which started with Anand and Guddi, launched at the same time and released in 1971. The partnership ended only after my father’s demise. With his friend gone, Dada didn’t want to produce films anymore and we settled things amicably between us,” the veteran filmmaker informs.

He reveals that none of Anand’s songs, “Kahin Door,” “Zindagi Kaisi Hai Paheli”, “Maine Tere Liye” or “Na Jiya Lage Na”, were composed for the film. Salil Chowdhury had some unused compositions and they bought the rights of four. “We wanted to enter Anand for the National Awards and it was imperative that the film be completed by December 31. Hrishida had filmed just 9,000 feet of film reel when we submitted it. It was completed later. It won the National Award for Best Feature Film in Hindi,” says Romu.

The film is remembered for Rajesh Khanna’s performance as the cancer patient who wants to live life to its fullest till his dying day, which bagged him the Filmfare Award for Best Actor. Amitabh Bachchan also caught the eye as happy-go-lucky Anand Saigal’s dour babumoshai, Dr Bhaskar Banerjee, and took home Filmfare’s Black Lady for Best Supporting Actor. “Om Prakash who had worked with him in Parwana which had Amitabh as the antagonist, was very impressed with him and recommended him to Hrishida who signed him for both Anand and Guddi,” narrates Romu, adding that three reels of Guddi had been shot when one day Hrishida asked him to send a plane ticket to a gentleman in Kolkata. “I learnt later that he was the Bengali actor Samit Bhanja who would be replacing Amitabh as Navin in Guddi, as the latter had got busy with other films. Hrishida, who started a film with every detail planned, including the release, didn’t want to wait.”

Hrishida himself didn’t like travelling by planes and once when Romu booked him a first class train ticket to Kolkata, he insisted he wanted to travel by the second class sleeper coach because it reminded him of where he’d come from and what he’d been. “I don’t want to lose touch with my roots. If I were to suffer a financial setback some day, I won’t have to make too many adjustments in my lifestyle then,” he reasoned.

Raving about Hrishida’s simplicity and lack of airs, Romu recalls how once when they went for a shoot to Jaipur in the peak of summer, he was reluctant to be put up at an expensive five star hotel, insisting that Romu see if he could get them rooms in a PWD guest house. “He was also an ardent chess player who’d be playing quietly in a corner while a shot was being taken. While everyone assumed he was clueless about what was happening, he would tell the actor later exactly where he had done wrong,” he says.

Romu adds that Dada was a stickler for punctuality who hated it when anyone turned up late. “Once when one of actors whom I won’t name, came at 2 pm for a 9 am call time, profusely apologetic, he embraced him, saying soothingly, ‘Don’t worry, you just gave me the title of my film, Namak Haraam, since you obviously have little respect for a producer’s money,’” he adds.

Romu met Dada for the last time when he went to invite him for his sister’s wedding. “By then, he was very unwell and I knew he wouldn’t be able to make it to the wedding, but no occasion was complete without his blessings. He was a part of our family till the very end,” Romu says.