Down Melody Lane..::..Article on Films, Personalities, Music Reviews and More..

The facets of cinema making that were most revolutionary in this decade were in the fields of photography and music. While the photography and choice of locales, with slick editing became a treat to watch, the musical quality sunk deeper and deeper. To be fair, technology helped in allowing some of the charm of the marriage of Hindi movies and songs to endure, since techno pop with all its gadgetry and electronic wizardry was unheard of previously, except in the musical imports from the West. Else, Hindi film music, especially songs, would have died in the 80s.

New stars were rising on the horizon. Some, like Jackie Shroff, Govinda, Sunny Deol and Salman Khan, are still going strong. Anyway, the old guard was completely uprooted in the eighties in almost all areas of Hindi film production. Movies were based on mainly violence, and any excuse was acceptable to the film makers and film goers for depicting violence in its crudest forms. The dialogues became very cheap in temperament; words and sentences of the kind that would make most sensible people grimace in disgust. Hindi films ceased to be Hindi films - they became Bambaiyya films - anyone familiar with Bambaiyya slang and culture will know what I mean. The acting became loud and garish, as did the costumes and totally inane dance sequences. Good films were very few and very far between. The villain and hero became indistinguishable except for the fact that the inevitably better looking hero usually won the battle and the heroine at the end. Brawn ruled rather than the brain, and good acting gave way to athletic bodies being flaunted. People generally compare the roles given to heroines in the 1980s with the roles of vamps previously. I would prefer to compare the vamp's histrionics (note, not her social standing in real life) with the muscular bodied heroes of the eighties who gyrated and shed clothes like no self-respecting man would. The heroines were mere artefacts with hardly any role worth mentioning. Pretentious film makers who knew little about film making but wanted to be different, like Mahesh Bhatt, also made a mark for themselves. Promiscuity and downright uncouth behaviour was passed off as openness.

The comedy was of the level of Johnny Lever, whose acting hurts the sensibilities of anyone with an iota of intelligence, but, he fit in well with the all-round vulgarity. Satish Shah, Paresh Rawal and Tikku Talsania were a breath of fresh air and really good actors, who had to be loud to fit into the general arrangement. Some excellent performances by people like Sunny Deol, Madhuri Dixit, Tabu, occasionally Salman Khan, and that fun chap, Govinda saved an otherwise dismal decade. A number of nobodies made the headlines too, for a short while, and then quietly faded into oblivion. The crop of actresses that had spilled over from the seventies chose to get married, aka, Sarika, Poonam Dhillon, Reena Roy. In Sarika, filmdom lost a very versatile actress.

Shooting stints abroad were now here to stay, for fun as well as economy and ease of various other arithmetical permutations. A villager in rural Central India would be seen singing songs in Switzerland, but that kind of bewilderment for the cine-goer was overlooked by all. Dancing steps (if at all they can be called that) metamorphosed into absurdities never even imagined, let alone seen before. Dresses became more and more revealing, although what these actresses revealed were physically more appealing, owing to a new fashion consciousness that had taken Bollywood, nay, India, by storm. Arrogance and bad manners passed off as style. Indian poverty was a thing of the past, and if shown, was merely to portray a rags-to-riches story - the means adopted to become wealthy were ludicrous, at the minimum. And the motive for becoming rich were either to woo the girl or take revenge against someone who had wronged the hero's family precisely two decades ago. Some tear jerkers merely succeeded in jerking the viewer out of his seat to the nearest popcorn stand, so artificially made were they; without a hint of effort that should have got into any of the facets of the making of such films. Womens' character portrayals became more strident, usually spewing nonsense and screaming to get themselves believed, in mostly irrational presentations about the plight of the 'weaker' sex. Feminity went for a toss, and masculinity leaned more towards feminity, except when fisticuffs (and much more) was called for. The scenes of violence, curiously, became increasingly amusing for the intelligent cine-goer, so unbelievable were they.

Musically, technical excellence was all that remained. Digital, multi-track recording and samplers created new sounds, but barring a handful, no song lingered even beyond the next week. Some singers like Kavita Krishnamurti and Alka yagnik were fresh to the ears, Kumar Sanu and most others, painful, whereas guys like Hariharan, Jaspinder Narula and Remo were pretentious and downright unmusical. Then we had the crop of goody-goody boys like Shaan and Sonu Nigam, who made it solely because they knew who to suck up to. This trend would continue into the 90s and even spill over into the new millennium, with just a few names changing or being added.

It will be unjust of me to neglect the importance of the small screen, TV, in the eighties, nineties, and, no doubt, well beyond. TV vied with the topmost class of cinema in terms of excellence in production, whether it be talk shows, serials, spoofs or even ads. Whatever the big boys could do, the youngsters did better, and reached out to a larger audience - instantly. On the popularity front, inevitably, big screen icons made up for a large part of TV shows by way of interviews, rushes, mimicry take-offs and song count-downs. It gave audiences the best of both worlds. Big screen stars no longer fought shy of being seen on TV. Legendary names like Helen, Nadira, and Rajesh Khanna, new found superstars of the small screen, like Navin Nischal, Farida Jalal, Shekhar Suman, and an entirely new genre of faces which became instantly recognisable became the staple of the average home viewer. Ladies were glued to the idiot box, watching nonsensical soaps. Kids were hooked onto shows designed just for them. And the men too graduated from being news gazers to not uninterested onlookers at the world of make-believe that unfolded in their living rooms every evening.

In the film scene, Kiran Kumar (a flop from the 70s) became a recognised star, as did a few others. Amitabh Bachhan gave a number of stunt films which appealed to the back-benchers, and then gave his life's best performance in Suryavansham, both as father and son, except when he sang a duet with his nubile heroine. Thereafter, he chose, in his wisdom to do a Boom and a music video for Adnan Sami, a performer better forgotten. Lata Mangeshkar became the uncrowned Queen of Bollywood, as did Dilip Kumar became King. They hardly performed, but when they did, the result was sheer magic. Asha Bhonsle made a mess of her otherwise enviable track record by doing senseless remixes and pop numbers. She appears pathetically desperate to cling on, not realizing that at her stature, she does not need to prove anything to anyone anymore.

Speaking of remixes, creativity became so bankrupt that 'musicians' had to steal from old numbers. Hits from the 60s and 70s again became the rage, although they, I must admit sound quite listenable in their new incarnations. But, added to that was hideously choreographed videos, portraying romance and sex in its crudest form. The faces, general demeanour and behaviour of these stars/ singers of those pop-videos were such that no self-respecting person would allow them entry into his home, if they (God forbid!) ever chose to visit.

Once upon a time, only a handful of film stars used to appear in ads. Now, the stars are seen more in ads than in films. Such is the lure of lucre.

Star Nites became more frequent, somuchso that they became almost everyday fare. Of course, if you'd seen one show, you'd have seen them all. They were dull, boring, uncreative, monotonous, and terribly choreographed and compered. But, they were great if you wanted the tots out of the way for a couple of hours. As always, even private family functions aped the star shows. As always, they were a pain to watch. This time around, they were embarrassing to watch. There are a few major areas of film-making which can be commented upon in light of the current sea-changes we see in Hindi cinema today.

Acting - very natural, in circumstances which are abnormal owing to stories that are abnormal. Some performances are commendable, but sadly only by some established stars of yesteryear, say, Amitabh and Hema in "Baghban'. Hema still stands head and shoulders over the newest starlet in terms of beauty and grace. Little is called for by way of talent, when you are supposed to shout and dance in almost the entire film. Give a minimal dose of histrionics or drama and all today's stars fall flat, with the unique exception of Sunny Deol. True, many stars previously also were slotted similarily in terms of talent, but other facets of the films made up for what they lacked.

Dresses - hugely garish and unnatural, with even slum dwellers wearing the latest from Armani. No one in their right minds would be seen dead wearing what the heroes and heroines of today's films wear. But, when everything else is unbelievable, why not the attire too?

Dances - I can't figure out what style of dancing graces the big (or small) screen today. It's certainly not Eastern, certainly not Western. It's Bollywood's own brand of contortions, garnished with suggestive movements, quite reflecting the pedigree of the choreographers and directors. Give any 'dancer' the task of doing one stretch of what Vyjayantimala did in even "Jewel Thief", and they will resemble orangutans doing the calypso underwater. OK - some heroines appear seductive because of their suggestive movements and revealing attire, but totally lack in grace. They start off where cabaret artistes of yore used to leave off, so little needs to be left to the imagination. Even this soft porn is portrayed in such a crass manner, that it doesn't even titillate.

Stories - Twists, turns, plots and sub-plots have always been the main-stay of Hindi films, but never before were they so clich�d, repetitive, predictable, and badly executed. Some pretend to take on bold subjects, but given the faces and educational levels of most of these film makers, lose out on just about every nuance as soon as the credits get done with. What they end up with is a dull TV soap-opera that takes 150 minutes to end, and says nothing at all except "The End". Sex, violence, a peculiar brand of romance which has nothing to do with love, and wonky family and social values go into the making of trash. Viva la Bollywood!

Music - Even a tone-deaf idiot will draw his own conclusions if he can bear listening to just a few songs from even some of the 'hit' films. I will be insulting the intelligence of the reader (which is above average, in any case, if he has read so far) if I say anything more on this subject. I would only add that the cut scenes in the songs are so rapid, it's difficult to make out even who the stars are, and lip-synching seems a joke under the circumstances.

The only area where new films have been able to score is in the social strata. Previously, films were made with distinct classes in mind. There were certain kinds of films that would have mass viewership, and another stream that would be preferred by the classes. Modern filmmakers have completely done away with the class divide - now all films are pedestrian. Filmmakers have thus done what no politician, saint or socialist has achieved ever in the Indian context.

The present

Excellence in technique, most contextual aspects borrowed heavily from the West, over-dramatic performances in totally unreal situations, very low-brow stature of film makers and artistes, barring an elite few, the silver screen has been reduced to a roadside tamasha. (As this article goes into print, I thankfully notice a slight trend towards the better, especially as far as the comedy goes.
Now, let us all get up and pray!