Three times the laughter- Amar Akbar Anthony

A funny thing happened after I watched Amar Akbar Anthony, the Bollywood hit from 1977 starring Amitabh Bachchan, Rishi Kapoor, and Vinod Khanna (which, in case you didn't know, is an awful lot of star power).

I watched the film and enjoyed it, full as it was of good ol' Bollywood melodrama, plus a generous sprinkling of what I like to term "'huh?' moments." My husband had wandered in and out while I was watching a couple of times, but he is never drawn in by 70s Bollywood production values, so he never stayed. Afterwards, however, he asked me what it was about, and while telling him I literally laughed until tears came to my eyes!
I'm not sure I would recommend this as anyone's first introduction to Bollywood, but it is a rollicking good time!

The story begins thusly: a chauffeur, played by the inimitable Pran, agrees to take the rap for a hit-and-run crime perpetrated by his rich boss, because his boss assures him that he will take better care of his family than he himself can.

However, when the chauffeur gets out of jail he finds that his boss did not keep this promise, and that his wife is ill and his three sons hungry. He confronts his boss, and there follows a dramatic series of events culminating in the children being lost, the chauffeur thinking his wife is dead, his wife thinking her entire family is dead, and the three boys being adopted by a Hindu police officer, a Catholic priest, and a Muslim tailor, respectively. Oh, I forgot to mention that the boys' mother was struck blind in this series of unfortunate events. The chauffer had managed to steal a lot of gold from his rich boss, and, in retaliation for the loss of his family, also steals the rich man's baby daughter.

We then shift scenes to 20 years later. The three brothers unknowingly reunite at a hospital when they all donate blood to an accident victim, who is actually their mother. Many hijinks follow before the family are all reunited at last. Many hilarious, hilarious hijinks, and also some confusing offshoots of subplots as well.

But surely we can forgive a lot of a film that presents us with Amitabh Bachchan dressed like Mr. Peanut.

 


 This is, you see, apparently how a good Christian man dresses to attend an Easter party. One must be properly dressed when emerging from the huge, celebratory Easter egg to sing and dance in honor of the occasion.

Frankly, I think these images alone should make you want to see the film! And that was one surprise for me from this film, actually. Amitabh Bachchan is hilarious! I had seen a few of his 70s films before this, and he was always very serious and brooding, with his character showing any levity only very rarely. This was not surprising, since he is famous for his "Angry Young Man" persona. But in this film he gets to display a knack for clowning and a wonderful sense of comic timing. It made me wonder if there are more "funny Amitabh" movies out there.

Another thing that surprised me about the film is that there is never any contention between the three brothers stemming from their different religions. When I read the short synopsis given by Netflix, I had assumed that the fact that they had been raised in different religions would prove a significant issue for the three brothers, and perhaps that they would be antagonistic towards each other before having to face the fact of their blood relationship. But this plays no part in the story whatsoever. The brothers are perfectly friendly, despite being ignorant of their real connection, after meeting that fateful day in the hospital. (Well, there is some tension between the Hindu brother, who is a policeman like his adopted father, and Anthony, who has unwittingly aided a criminal his policeman brother is pursuing, but religion never enters into it.) Though this surprised me, I found it quite nice. It also seemed to gently suggest that all religions are kin, even if their adherents don't recognize it, which is a nice sentiment.

Now I want to do a shout out for the ladies of the film! They are wonderful. Each of the brothers has a romantic interest (but of course!), and each of the women (Parveen Babi, Shaban Azmi, and Neetu Singh) gives a delightful performance.

Bollywood films from the 1970s seem to be brimful of strong female characters, although they do not get a fair share of screen time. For example, a major part of the ending of the film (I hesitate to say climax... this film has several contenders for the "climax" title) revolves around rescuing Anthony's love interest, who has been kidnapped, with the kidnappers intent on forcing her to marry a particular goon who is obsessed with her. The three brothers go to the rescue, aided by the love interests of the other two brothers. They are disguised as the priest who is to perform the marriage, the tailor who made the wedding dress, and a "one man band" hired to provide the music.

They don't find a sobbing damsel in distress when they arrive, however. She is giving her kidnappers plenty of trouble, and Anthony actually has a hard time getting near enough to let her know it's him because she has plenty of fight in her.

Incidentally, perhaps only Vinod Khanna could pull off the dignity he showed when called upon to reveal himself as a police officer, ready to take charge of the situation, while actually still wearing cymbals attached to his knees.

I think anyone exploring Golden Oldies of Bollywood should certainly give Amar Akbar Anthony a try! It is chock-full of melodrama and delightful music, colorful characters, great performances, and, yes, the occasional plot thread that simply disappears into thin air. Masala film-making at its best, perhaps, and all part of the charm.

Stopping the moonlight- My attempt to watch Chandni

When Bollywood works for me, it is a fabulous cinematic experience. It may make my heart sing or crack, but either way, it's worth the investment of my time. But let's face it: there's a reason Bollywood's reputation isn't entirely sparkly with praise from across the globe. It doesn't always work. Sometimes it is flat, or dreadful, or flatly dreadful.

In other news, I tried to watch Chandni.

I think Chandni has been in my "Netflix recommends for you" row since I first watched a few Bollywood films. I saw it there but it never caught my eye, what with the surfeit of Bollywood available, enough to look into it. However, it has been slowly and inexorably looming larger in my awareness for some time. I learned, because it is used in many song lyrics, that "chandni" means "moonlight." And I thought, "Oh, that's what that movie title means..." I gradually became aware, watching the song "Phir Milenge Chalte Chalte" from Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi over and over again (many many times- it was the toddler's favorite for a good long time, so the entire family has seen this one countless times) while also reading and learning more about Bollywood, that the lyrics of the song are in large part made up of references to other songs and movies. "Oh," I thought, "When he sings 'Meri Chandni,' maybe it's a reference to that film I see on Netflix..." Most recently, with the buzz surrounding Sridevi's newest film English Vinglish, I, well, heard of Sridevi, who plays the heroine (from whose name the title comes) of Chandni and is, according to some internet sources, "a legend."

Moreover, it is a Yash Chopra film! I thought it was time to pull the trigger.

The film starts promisingly, with a dance number by Sridevi, looking impossibly large-eyed, dewy, and winsome.

While she is dancing, I got the first hint of something amiss: Rishi Kapoor is there, angling to watch her dance, trying to sneak into the performance although (for some reason) her audience is entirely female (she's dancing at a wedding celebration). I saw Rishi Kapoor in Bobby, and he was fresh-faced and appealing. Chandni is some 16 years later, and he looks flabby-faced and unattractive. (Sorry, Rishi, but it's true. You're looking much more palatable now that no one is trying to make a romantic lead out of you.) They also stuck him in the most ridiculously unflattering clothes. For a futile moment I hoped he wasn't to be her hero, but I also sinkingly knew he was, because there he was, ogling her dancing. From my limited Bollywood experience, being desperate to see or being captivated by a girl's dancing is a sure sign of a sudden and irrevocable plummet into romance. This was not a good sign. But there was the possibility that they could make it work.

It did not work.

After her dance, Rishi's character accosts (assaults) Chandni on the stairs, declaring his love for her apropos of nothing (does she even know who this guy is??) and demanding she reciprocate ("Do you love me? Yes or no?"). At one point, as she tries to slip past him and go back to whatever she was planning to do before he inserted himself into her life, he actually grabs her wrists and twists her into himself, holding her is a semi-chokehold. My eight-year-old daughter was in the room and commented in disgust, "I would never want someone to grab me like that!" And we immediately had a little discussion about how she was perfectly right in feeling that way, about how he was being a jerk and no one should be treated like that, and about how this was an entirely inappropriate way to express affection. Because, wow, Great Jangling Bangles what a hideous way to kick-off a relationship! After she has finally escaped to her room she looks at her wrist to see it bleeding because Rishi broke a bangle when he grabbed her. How romantic.

As the wedding celebrations continue Rishi's character keeps inserting "Yes or no?" accompanied by meaningful looks into his every interaction with Chandni. And how does he finally get the answer he wants? He takes her for a motorcycle ride and scares her by driving fast and recklessly, shouting that he'll stop when she says "yes." So that's how their love affair begins. Under duress. None of this is even slightly ameliorated by any chemistry between Rishi and Sridevi, because I can see none. Later, Rishi shows her his room, which he has wallpapered with various photos of her. She is apparently touched by this disturbing behavior, which was disturbing to me as a viewer.

To make a long story short (too late), I stopped watching during the "honeymoon in Switzerland" dream sequence. I do not have enough free time in my days to permit me to even come close, over the course of my lifetime, to watching all the Bollywood films I might possibly find enjoyable. I'm certainly not going to waste any of my allotted Bollywood hours watching something so joyless.

"I wonder if she'll like me in Amar, Akbar, Anthony..."

If anyone out there wants to tell my why I'm completely wrong and Chandni is a marvel of film-making, please feel free!