Waheeda Rehman in Khamoshi (1969)

Camera cuts from the girl on the balcony to the ambu­lance below. It drives off and the nurse is alone staring into space. She has been in love with the patient: never mind all that corn about love therapy, it seems an interesting enough affair.

A while later they clear the ward for the next patient — the only normal looking case in a hospital overloaded with clowns. The first love takes a back seat — it just about disappears —and the new one is neither in­teresting nor convincing.

The few glimpses of Waheeda and her first patient leave little doubt that the man had return­ed her love. He leaves the hos­pital to get married and sends a polite wedding invitation to the nurse as if he had known, all along it was all an act.

“Khamoshi” gets bogged down in its own psychology when it drags in the second patient. The doctor rattles off a few lines on narcissism, the you-dee-pus (that’s the way he pronounces it) complex etcetera, then orders the nurse to fall in love with the patient for the rest of the film.

Rajesh returns to normal soon enough when the new nurse takes over and “rescues” him from shock therapy and hugs him every now and then and finally says he’s being per­mitted an airing for the outdoor song — scene ends like every other love scene with Waheeda clinging to Rajesh and dream­ing of Dharmendra.

The love therapy isn’t any more convincing when they ex­plain that it was betrayed love that drove the hero mad in the first place. They show the girl behaving like an outright bitch to explain why the hero still loves her before bringing her over to the hospital to assure you he doesn’t love her any more.

Far better if they had cut off that clinical stuff and turned it into a story of conflicting love, if they hadn’t dropped Dhar­mendra after the marriage and had instead shown Waheeda torn between love for both men. There are moments of conviction when she dreams of the first man, the eagerness with which she expects him to re­turn. There’s the time Rajesh slaps her by accident and she merely looks at him … moments that come sporadically amid the generally poor performanc­es, Waheeda’s own overacting in places and that furred, feathed and bejewelled air that keeps reminding you, you never really got a glimpse of the woman’s private life. (Filmfare Review – 1970)

Usha Kiron as the pretty fisher-girl (Mohnia) in Baadbaan (1954)

An excellent picture, and obviously the result of the united effort of a group of stars and technicians all of whom have given of their best, “Baadbaan”, produced by the Bombay Talkies Workers’ Industrial Cooperative Society Limited, was premiered on Friday, June 18, 1954, to packed houses at the Roxy and various other theatres in Bombay.

The all-star cast of eleven top-rate players comprises Dev Anand, Meena Kumari, Usha Kiron, Ashok Kumar, Bipin Gupta, Gope, Krishnakant, Jairaj, Leela Chitnis, Sheikh Mukhtar and Shivraj.

The credit for handling this brilliant array or talent goes to Director Phani Mazumdar who also wrote the story and to Nabendu Ghosh whose compact screenplay and terse, but tell­ing, dialogue exploit both the stars and their well-written parts as well as the richly-interest­ing story.

A beautiful, very melodious music score composed by Timir Baran and S.K. Pal, lovely lyrics written by Indivar and Udhav Kumar and superbly choreographed dances designed by the brilliant exponent Shanti Bhardan and Parvati Kumar provide sparkling highlights in this engrossing film.

The picture depicts a story rich in incident and emotional conflict and centers on an orphaned child whose parents, fisher folk, are killed in a storm and who is adopted by a rich, kind and broad-minded philanthropist. The real drama sets in when the boy returns from Eng­land and falls in love with a lovely young so­cialite who reciprocates his love. On hearing of his true parentage, however, her father forbids the marriage but relents at seeing his daugh­ter’s unhappiness.

The hero’s overwhelming passion for a beautiful fisher girl from the village of his birth to which he returns, bent on improving his peo­ple’s lot, and his love for his charming wife make for strong emotional power climaxed tragically by the latter’s death and given subtle meaning by his return to his own people and a girl of his own kind.

By far the best performance comes from Usha Kiron who dominates the picture with her gloriously rich portrayal as the fisher girl Mo­hnia. She literally lights up the screen with her brilliant, sympathetic acting and is the embodiment of allure in the dances she puts over with inimitable sensuous grace and the joyous aban­don of a gifted danseuse.

Dev Anand, as the hero, puts over a good role despite the fact that he tends to fall short in some of his scenes and is a trifle gauche throughout the film. Meena Kumari, as his ill- starred wife, turns in a quiet, polished role in a quite difficult part. Another subtle but telling performance comes from Ashok Kumar who plays her silent lover and the hero’s friend with the consummate ease of a veteran artist.

Bipin Gupta and Krishnakant, as the hero’s foster-father and the heroine’s father, act im­peccably as usual. Jairaj, as Dev Anand’s fa­ther, does well in a small part and Leela Chitnis as his mother acts well and looks love­ly. The comedy is provided mainly by Gope who handles his comic and dramatic scenes very well.

The music is beautiful and the songs are excellently sung by Geeta Roy, Hemant Kumar Asha Bhonsle and Manna De.

The dances are superb, rich, colourful folk numbers brilliantly choreographed and executed by Usha Kiron and a troupe of excellently trained chorines.

The production values, sets, photography and costumes are impeccable.

Cast and Production Credits

Year – 1954, Genre – Drama/Social, Country – India, Language – Hindi, Producer – Bombay Talkies Workers’ Industrial Co-operative Society, Director – Phani Mazumdar. , Music Director – Timir Baran, S. K. Pal, Cast– Ashok Kumar, Dev Anand, Meena Kumari, Usha Kiron, Krishnakant, Jairaj, Sheikh Mukhtar, Bipin Gupta, Leela Chitnis, Gope, and Shivraj

Sheikh Mukhtar, Mukri and Baby Shashi on the sets of Mangu (1954), directed by N.A. Ansari

Sheikh Mukhtar Productions’ action-packed, sentimental human drama “Mangu,” whichwas premiered at the Super and other cine­mas in Bombay on February 11, is one of those films loaded with mass appeal. Deftly written and cleverly directed, the picture is a singular success for N. A. Ansari, the veteran charac­ter-actor, who makes a promising debut as a full-fledged director in, this film.

The story centres round the exploits and innate humanity of a giant-sized tramp called Mangu. His rugged exterior and enormous phy­sical strength lend poignancy to the pleasing qualities of his heart. Never given to working for a living, he becomes a changed man when an innocent child, an heiress chased by assassins hired by her uncle, suddenly comes into his life and he takes upon himself the responsi­bility of sheltering her.

In this task he is aided by another tramp, a dwarf who justifies his name, Kamchor, by his abhorrence for work. For the sake of the child Mangu begins to work as a railway coolie and, in the colony where he lives, meets and falls in love with the daughter of a fellow-worker. On the other hand the hunt for the child continues unabated and Dr. Shorey, the wicked uncle of the child, tries every trick to deprive her of her inheritance.

The big, bluff Sheikh Mukhtar dominates the picture with his powerful personality and fine, sympathetic performance in the role of Mangu, the kind-hearted tramp. Mukri, the pint-sized comedian, lends able support to Sheikh Mukhtar as Kamchor and brings the house down with his mirthful sequences.

Niger Sultana as Mukhtar’s sweetheart, Purvi, looks utterly charming and is superb. She puts over the song sequences with gay abandon and alluring ease. Ansari as Dr. Shorey, the villain of the piece, lives up to his reputation as one of the most hated bad­men of the Indian screen. Baby Shashi as the child heiress who is the victim of all the intri­gue in the film endears herself to audiences in her delightful, impish and enchanting role.

Sankatha Prasad as Purvi’s kind and sym­pathetic father, Mumtaz as the child’s long- suffering mother and Aroon as her rich rela­tion are others who do well in their roles.

A complete misfit in the cast, however, is Sheila Ramani in a role which demanded dramatic talent and dancing ability. Stiff and stilted, with more pose than poise, she re­duces what could have been an entertaining characterisation to a dull, artificial portrayal.

The songs are melodious, and are pleasing­ly sung, scored and written. Anna Nevada, the Spanish danseuse, contributes an exotic dance number.

Production values in matters of decor, sets, rostunies, photography and sound are good (Filmfare – 1955).

Cast and Production Credits

Year – 1954, Genre – Action, Country – India, Language – Hindi, Producer – Sheikh Mukhtar Productions, Director – N.A. Ansari, Music Director – Mohammed Shafi and O.P. Nayyar, Cast – Sheikh Mukhtar, Mukri, Nigar Sultana, Sheila Ramani, Baby Shashi, Sankatha Prasad, Anna Nevada and Aroon.