Film: Pyaasa
Director: Guru Dutt
Country: India
Released: February 1957
Runtime: 153 minutes
Genre: Bollywood
Studio: Guru Dutt Films
Influenced: Mani Ratnam, James Ivory, Wong Kar-Wai, Mira Nair, Ashutosh Gowariker
Bollywood is a genre that is hard to define and trace historically, but it emerged as a real force during the Golden Age of Indian cinema from the late 1940s to the early 1960s, when a vast array of innovative and popular movies were released, including epic productions like Raj Kapoor's Awaara (1951), Bimal Roy's Devdas (1955), Guru Dutt's Pyaasa and Mehboob Khan's Mother India (1957). Having watched several of them, Pyaasa – roughly translated as "thirst" – is my pick of the bunch, containing some of the best songs and a perfect balance between melodrama, social themes (inequality and the struggles of urban life) and comic musical interludes.
Guru Dutt's expressive acting is a key element of the film's appeal, and he would become one of many stars of Hindi cinema during this period, along with Dilip Kumar, Nargis, Raj Kapoor, Meena Kumari and the incomparable Johnny Walker. Pyaasa was based on a story idea called Kashmakash, written by Guru Dutt in the late 1940s when he was just 22, its narrative inspired by his early struggles as an artist. There's a dreamy quality to the opening as Vijay (played by Dutt) lazes in the park staring at clouds and nature while singing, but then reality intrudes in the form of someone stepping on a bumblebee. Like Pather Panchali, one of the main characters is a man with an artistic temperament who feels at odds with the world, but in this case his poems are being rejected for being too concerned with contemporary issues, with the publishing house describing them as a "crusade against hunger and unemployment".
But Pyaasa is not all serious and highbrow. About half an hour in we have one of many musical interludes, this time an itinerant massage oil man who sings the now famous song, Sar Jo Tera Chakraye (When Your Head Spins), well-loved and much imitated throughout India. Johnny Walker as Abdul Sattar is a massage oil salesman whose clowning around and facial expressions serve as well-timed comic relief. He says his business has doubled since he started singing Vijay's song.
Like many Bollywood films, Pyaasa is rooted in the tradition of Indian epic poetry, literature and theatre, and at the outset the movie references classic poets of the Urdu language like Mir Taqi Mir and Momin Khan Momin, as well as more contemporary ones of the 20th century like Josh Malihabadi and Faiz Ahmad Faiz. Some of the acting and the score may now seem overly melodramatic, but the film has such heart and vitality that it's easy to overlook this and remember that Bollywood is a genre unto itself, full of fantasy and heightened emotion. Despite his talent, Vijay is unable to get his poems published or find a steady job. He is in love with a prostitute named Gulabo (played by Waheeda Rehman) who is sympathetic to his struggles. Meanwhile, Vijay's former college friend, Mr Ghosh, who is now a successful publisher, tries to exploit his talent for his own gain.
There's a wonderful scene at the posh publishing party where servant Vijay burst into gentle song: "When I asked for flowers, I was given a garland of thorns, who are the fortunate ones who love and are loved in return?" I'm really fond of the mournful yearning of this song and the lyrics, like when he sings that even his shadow is weary of him. Some scenes are tough to watch too, like when Vijay sees his brothers paying last rites to his mother. Vijay didn't know his mother had died and is treated with contempt by his brothers. "Where are those who claim to be proud of India?" is Vijay's lament as he wanders through the back alleys of the city, observing the physical and moral sickness of its poor.
Only when he's thought dead, in a terrible train accident, do Vijay's poems finally succeed. The depiction of the madhouse from which he escapes is very over the top, though Sattar breaking Vijay out has its comic moments too, involving a reprise of his earlier massage oil song. This is followed by an emotional scene of high drama when Vijay returns to society, turning up at his own funeral service. In the end, Vijay decides to reject the publisher's offer and instead he continues to pursue his art on his own terms. The film ends with Vijay and Gulabo walking away together, symbolising their rejection of societal norms and their desire for freedom. Pyaasa's romantic rejection of materialism and its sympathetic portrait of sex workers are just two of the many wonderful features of the film that make it stand out as a classic.
Comments