Showing posts with label Aruna Irani. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aruna Irani. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Fighting Femmes, Fiends, and Fanatics Episode 5: Rani aur Jaani

It's time once again for Steve Mayhem's Fighting Femmes, Fiends, and Fanatics, once again hosted by that lovable scamp, Todd from 4DK! This time around I wax rhapsodic over the 1973 Bollywood action classic Rani aur Jaani, in which Aruna Irani and Jyothi Laxmi spend a good deal of time beating the living shit out of one another. Enjoy!

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Rani Aur Lalpari (India, 1975)



Rani Aur Lalpari might seem like your friend, because it offers you the opportunity to see some of Bollywood's biggest stars of the 70s in a context that you probably never could have imagined you would. But, kids, make no mistake about it: Rani Aur Lalpari hates you.

What the film will eventually give us -- among many, many other things -- is a series of fantasy sequences featuring cameo appearances by those stars, but, first, director Ravikant Nagaich must establish a framing narrative drenched in misery. Of course, the theme of fantasy as an escape from life's cruelties is an inexhaustibly resonant and evergreen one. But what if we, the audience, experience those fantasies, as presented, as cruelties in themselves? Where do we go to escape from Rani Aur Lalpari? (And if you're a Bollywood novice who's surprised to learn that Hindi popular movies are about anything other than singing, dancing and joy, consider that one of the industry's most frequently revisited tales concerns a guy drinking himself to death.)

The film's title character, Rani, is one of those little girls who has developed a rich imaginary life as a buffer against everyday hardship. We see this demonstrated in an early song number in which the penniless and hungry kid fantasizes herself into what looks like one of those old drive-in theater "head to the snack bar" promos, in which she frolics through a landscape made up of garish, over-abundant displays of name brand candies. Looks like the Chiclet tree is in full bloom!




It seems that Rani's dad has been forced by circumstances to seek employment in another country, leaving Rani, her mom (Asha Parekh!), and Rani's pet rabbit Moti to seek shelter with relatives. These relatives turn out to be cruel, glutinous oafs, who, during the days when Rani's mom is off slaving away at her thankless seamstress job, heartlessly mistreat Rani and force her to act as their personal slave. Needless to say, there is a lot of crying.


Even Moti the rabbit cries.


BTW, don't get too used to Moti. He will die. Then again, this is a kid's movie, so how bad could it be?


Oh.

Finally Rani befriends a little boy in a neighboring apartment block who regales her with tales of fantasy and wonder. This provides the opportunity for a couple of extended song sequences in which those tales are acted out by the stars of the day. The first is Cinderella, featuring Neetu Singh as Cinderella, Jeetendra as the Prince, and Reena Roy as the Fairy Godmother, aka the titular Lalpari, which translates as "Red Angel".




The second tale is a very abbreviated version of Gulliver's Travels starring Feroz Khan. I kept waiting for Feroz to drink a boatload of ale and start smashing Liliputians with his fists, but it never happened. Still, it's an enjoyable bit, loaded with lots of dodgy process shots.



Somewhere in all this there's also a school pageant that I think is meant to be some kind of plea for world peace. The kids dress up as the people of many lands and then reenact warfare, shooting at and stabbing each other as explosions are projected behind them. At the end, the stage is littered with dead kids, and Rani, dressed as Mother India, spins around and cries.




Then Danny Denzongpa gets up on stage and gives a speech before handing Rani a trophy.


Finally the happy day arrives when Rani's dad is scheduled to make his return to India. Rani and her mom excitedly head out to the airport, only to see dad's plane, upon making its approach, plummet to the ground and explode. Rani's mom goes into shock and lapses into a coma, dying soon thereafter.


Little Rani then decides that she must travel to the netherworld to beseech Yamraj, the Hindu god of death, to bring her parents back to life. Calling for her mom, she runs out into the surf and plummets to the bottom of the ocean, where she is soon fleeing for her life from a badly rear-projected giant octopus.


I should point out here that Ravikant Nagaich, who is also credited with special effects on Rani Aur Lalpari, also directed the psychedelic curry western Kaala Sona, and that this film sees him give full expression to his obvious love -- only hinted at in that other film -- for creating bizarre fantasy landscapes with copious crude applications of glass mattes and the Schufftan Process. I should also point out that Nagaich later went on to direct both of Mithun's Gunmaster G-9 films, which really isn't relevant to Rani Aur Lalpari, but establishes Nagaich's status as a filmmaker of great import.

Anyway, what little Rani endures from this point on -- and what we endure from this point on -- can only be described as an ordeal. After fleeing the octopus, she comes upon a white robed female figure in a boat, who ferries her along peacefully for a  while before disappearing and leaving Rani in the vessel alone, at which point the boat plummets down a crazy Willie Wonka style vortex. She then encounters a trio of mermaids lead by Padma Khanna, who seems to really not want her to plunge into this fiery red hole that opens up in the ocean floor before her, but she does anyway.



One might think that plunging down this fiery hole would lead Rani to Hell. But, then again, one might be said to be held too heavily under the sway of Christian mythology for thinking so. Then again, when Rani gets to the bottom of this hole she finds angels, which makes this sequence confusing on an impressive number of levels. These angels lead Rani to a statue of the Fairy Godmother/Lalpari from the Cinderella segment of the movie. This vaguely reassuring turn of events aside, Rani Aur Lalpari quickly demonstrates that is far from done being one of the most harrowing children's movies you have ever seen, as Rani then takes a candle and walks in circles around the statue until her hands are covered in scalding hot wax.


Finally the statue turns into Reena Roy, who leads Rani to a place where there are a trio of scary talking heads on pedestals.


And then she and Rani run across a rainbow until they are, for some reason, on the Moon.





I have to admit that the events of the movie really began to blur for me at this point. There was a lot of falling through the abyss and crudely painted nightmare landscapes, and then a part where Rani, now wearing Cinderellas sparkled slippers,  climbed up a ladder into the stars. I did perk up a bit, though, when Aruna Irani appeared on screen for a sapphic, mind-bendingly sexy dance number that involved her being bathed by handmaidens in a flower shaped bath.


Then Aruna takes Rani to Krishna, after which we get a sequence in which Rani appears to have died in the process of her toils, but is then revived by Krishna at Aruna Irani's tearful insistence. Then a statue cries. And, hey, Jagdeep is down there too!


Rather than proceed with this summary, I'm just going to end this review Memsaab style, with a series of questions: Will Rani survive her ordeal and make her way to Yamraj? And, if so, will he grant her wish and, in defiance of all that is right and holy, revive her dead parents? And, if so, will they be zombies? Did you make a child watch Rani Aur Lalpari, or watch it yourself under the influence of psychedelic drugs? And, if so, how sorry are you now?

In the course of typing this, I have continually had to pause to seek confirmation that I did not, in fact, simply dream Rani Aur Lalpari. Even as a B picture it would have been something of a skull-fuck, but the absurd assemblage of A list talent within it takes it to a whole other hallucinatory level entirely. I mean, you bring in Danny Denzongpa just to hand out a trophy at the end of a freaky, ultra violent grade school pageant? Really? I think it's telling that Moser Baer didn't even bother to subtitle the DVD edition of this film, as if seeking to put another prohibitive layer between it and those uninitiated souls who might be harmed by it. Look, I know you don't want to be told that you can't handle this movie. So I won't. But... oh, no, no, I'll shut up now.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Seven days of 70s Bollywood: Qurbani

[This post is part of a week long blog-a-thon, masterminded by Beth of Beth Loves Bollywood, paying tribute to the films of 1970s Bollywood. Be sure to check out the other participating blogs for more about the best decade ever in the history of Indian film-making!]

Qurbani (1980)
Directed by Feroz Khan
Written by K.K. Shukla
Starring: Feroz Khan, Vinod Khanna, Zeenat Aman, Amjad Khan, Amrish Puri, Aruna Irani, Shakti Kapoor
Music by Kalyani-Anandji


Despite it's 1980 release date, I doubt anyone who's seen Qurbani would disagree that it is a quintessentially 1970s film. It's as if director/star Feroz Khan looked back upon the preceding decade of masala excess and distilled it down to its very essence. Thus we get bikini-clad disco divas, careening muscle cars, musky bromance, and shameless bare-chested ascot wearing, all set to what has to be Kalyani-Anandji's most downright funky score ever. Qurbani IS the 70s!

Read my review of Qurbani at Teleport City

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Seven days of 70s Bollywood: Rani Aur Jaani

[This post is part of a week long blog-a-thon, masterminded by Beth of Beth Loves Bollywood, paying tribute to the films of 1970s Bollywood. Be sure to check out the other participating blogs for more about the best decade ever in the history of Indian film-making!]

Rani Aur Jaani (1973)
Directed by K.S.R. Doss
Written by K.S.R. Doss, Prem Kapoor
Starring: Aruna Irani, Jyothi Laxmi, Anil Dhawan Narendra Nath, Jagdeep
Music by Satyam


Rani Aur Jaani sees Tollywood director K.S.R. Doss bringing his distinctive brand of trashy, female-centric action cinema to Bollywood -- and with it comes his muse apparent, the fugalicious and disturbingly habit forming Jyothi Laxmi. Taking the oft told filmi tale of siblings separated at birth who grow up on opposite sides of the law and giving it an estrogen-injected spin, Rani Aur Jaani comes across like Deewar as directed by the Hindi version of John Waters. Add to that Peter the sharp-shooting wonder dog, a rare and very enjoyable leading turn by the under-appreciated Aruna Irani, and one of the best rear-projection enabled motorcycle chases in film history, and you have the makings of a classic. Currently only available on VCD, this is at the top of my wish list for a subtitled DVD release.

Read my review of Rani Aur Jaani on 4DK

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Doodh Ka Karz (India, 1990)


If Bollywood has taught us anything, it's that animals have a limitless capacity for holding grudges and exacting bloody-minded vengeance. Even a gerbil, once crossed, is not safe to turn your back upon. And the same goes a hundred-fold when you're dealing with an animal as evolutionarily designed for the purpose of killing humans as a cobra. Especially when that cobra is bonded in spirit, as is the case in Doodh Ka Karz, with a human as evolutionarily designed for being angry and violent as Jackie Shroff.

Doodh Ka Karz begins on a somewhat biblical note, with snake charmer Gangu (Kuldip Pawar) and his very pregnant wife Parvati (Aruna Irani!) seeking shelter from inclement weather in a temple to the god Shiva.

Unfortunately, also in the vicinity are Amrish Puri, Prem Chopra and Sadashiv Amrapurkar, which is a sure indication that something even more messy and unpleasant than the miracle of childbirth is about to go down. And sure enough, just as Parvati is popping the bun from the oven, Amrish and his pals make off with the diamonds adorning the temple's idol, though not before killing a priest who catches them in the act. Gangu stumbles upon the scene and is framed for the crime by the three upper-caste villains.


What next transpires is Gangu being whipped to death in the public square by internet sex god Amrish Puri as Parvati, newborn in arms, watches helplessly.


Also watching, from within the confines of his basket, is Gangu's prize cobra, who I will call Charles -- just because it seems like, given the kind of movie this is and the role Charles plays in it, he should have been given a name, though one was never mentioned in the subtitles.


Anyway, while Charles cannot see all of the action from between the narrow slats of his basket, he makes a point of committing to memory the distinctive necklace worn by Amrish Puri.

Later, as a despairing Parvati nurses her baby, she notes that the loyal Charles, while lacking the means to communicate it, must also be a bit hungry. And so she squeezes out some of her breast milk and offers it to him. And he drinks it. Now, I've just recently completed a survey of the search terms that bring people to this blog, and while the term "Aruna Irani feeds her breast milk to a cobra" was not among them, given what was there, it certainly wouldn't have been out of place. Now I'm happy to know that, from this day on, anyone who does type those words into Google will be dumped directly into my lap. Perverts should also note that we do get a shot of some -- no doubt body-doubled -- lactating boobs during this sequence, which, though not presented in any way that would be titillating to a normally inclined person, are nonetheless quite shocking to see within the context of an Indian film.

Anyway, because she does not have the means to care for him, Parvati urges Charles to slither off on his own, which he does, after which she goes off to confront Amrish Puri. Unfortunately, she arrives at Amrish's estate just in time to see him murder his own father. What with giving birth, seeing her husband flayed alive before her eyes and witnessing two murders, this has been sort of a rough day for Parvati, and its not going to get any easier. Fortunately, once Amrish, Prem and Sadashiv have chased her and her baby off a cliff, they leave her for dead and she is rescued by a kindly blacksmith played by Goga Kapoor.

Goga pledges to raise Parvati's child as if he were his own son, and Parvati, taking a page from Mithun's psycho mom in Kasam Paida Karne Wale Ki, urges him not to spare the rod, and to give little Suraj the kind of upbringing that will basically result in him growing up to be a dead-eyed, vengeance crazed meat puppet.

Oh, and what's this? That's right, it's the opening credits to Doodh Ka Karz. Which means that I have just spent the last several paragraphs of what I was hoping would be a brief review describing only the prologue of Doodh Ka Karz. Obviously, it's time to speed thing up, because, while I enjoyed this movie well enough, it's not the kind of thing I want to while away hour after hour painting vivid word pictures of. Happily, much of what transpires from this point on in the movie is exactly the kind of thing that the term "needless to say" was designed for. As in, needless to say, little Suraj grows up to be Jackie Shroff, and while he is raised to be a blacksmith, he quickly finds that he has more of an affinity for snake charming.


But Jackie is not just any snake charmer. He is the KENNY G of snake charmers.

And needless to say, Charles the cobra, whose memory is as long for a solid done him as it is for wrongs that need to be avenged, eventually finds his way back to Suraj and his mom in time for him to act as an instrument in their plot to get payback against that damn Amrish Puri and his friends. This, needless to say, will involve him demonstrating the ability to do some very un-snake-like things, like unlocking doors and leaping through the air like some kind of self-propelled reptilian javelin, as well as more conventional Bollywood anipal antics like terrorizing Bob Christo. He will also prove himself to be the Douglas MacArthur of the snake world by leading a sizeable cobra army in a siege against the bad guys' hideout at the film's conclusion.

Yes, Doodh Ka Karz is indeed a weird and trashy film, but it is also a Bollywood film from the 90s, which means that calling it weird and trashy is like calling the ocean wet. In fact, you could say that it need not be said at all. Aside from all the snake business, which was uniformly awesome, I also liked that Amrish Puri's character, despite being a typically scummy villain in the Amrish Puri mold, was given a protracted and actually quite moving death scene -- something a lot more dignified and demonstrative of the great man's formidable acting chops than the usual bellowing-as-his-head-gets- chomped-on-by-a-crocodile exit he normally gets. (And by a long shot more dignified than having his ass handed to him by Anil Kapoor in a Gilligan hat.)

Sure, I've seen millions of better movies than Doodh Ka Karz, but none of them had a breast feeding projectile snake in them. Indeed, the fact that I can recount such things in anything approaching a blasé manner is indicative of just what a long and strange journey my mining the depths of Indian cinema has been. But that, of course, goes without saying.



(Thanks to Sunil -- who will someday start his own blog and render mine redundant -- for steering me toward this one.)