Sham Shanti Om

From the skeptic in the shoutbox. This is from Tehelka
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Sham Shanti Om

A film historian finds that Om Shanti Om is hardly the tribute to 1970s Bollywood it claims to be. By SMM AUSAJA

As the year was wrapped up, we were told that Farah Khan’s Om Shanti Om has trounced Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Saawariya at the turnstiles, to emerge as “the biggest grosser ever in the history of Indian cinema”. Modesty, even in seventies, existed I’m sure. When I say ‘we were told’, it’s what the publicity managers want us to believe.

Curious to ascertain facts I turn to a trade journal to know the figures myself. I pick up Complete Cinema and the percentages of the third week are as follows: Mumbai 65%, Delhi 60%, Kolkata 55%, Allahabad 28.01%, Lucknow 48%, Udaipur 28.05%, Ujjain 21.91%, and so on. While these figures may be approximate, they don’t correspond with the enthusiasm with which the film is being publicised. And the figures of Bombay Talkies’ Kismet, K Asif’s Mughal-e-Azam, G P Sippy’s Sholay, Manmohan Desai’s Amar Akbar Anthony, Rajshri’s Maine Pyar Kiya, or even Yash Chopra’s DDLJ, were I’m sure better in comparison. However, the cinema business has changed so much in the last decade that it’s all a first week affair these days. So the length of a film’s run doesn’t necessarily become a yardstick of its success. Om Shanti Om is a huge success, and the marketing blitzkrieg unleashed on its pre-release days deserves substantial credit.

To discover what has made this film such a success, I venture into the nearest multiplex, burning my pocket with popcorn worth Rs.60, and a ticket worth Rs.300. When the movie ended I see a mixed reaction amidst the audience. What makes the film succeed is its wacky humor, Deepika Padukone – an honest performance, Shahrukh Khan’s south Indian ‘Rascalaa’ avatar, and the brilliantly choreographed songs by Farah herself – the one where Deepika dances with digitally presented yesteryear stars, and the magnificent title track reminding you of the John Jaani Janardhan track in Manmohan Desai’s flamboyant Naseeb (1981). So the film has merit to succeed and a dependable screenplay (Mushtaq Sheikh with Farha) compliments the success. What angers a seventies buff is the idea to call it a tribute to seventies.

Having grown up in seventies and eighties, queuing up for Manmohan Desai/ Prakash Mehra flicks, with Salim-Javed dialogues celebrating the Amitabh Bachchan years, and R D Burman on the record player, I was curious to see if the film is an apt tribute. It is not. The film opens with a Karz song, which belongs to the eighties, not seventies, since the film was released in 1980. The characters sport a longish hairstyle – sported by Shahrukh and Arjun – yet their ears are visible! In the seventies, the hairstyles covered the ears. Then there are spoofs on stars like Dev Anand (fifties and sixties), Manoj Kumar (sixties), and Sunil Dutt (sixties, including Amrapali) which don’t fit in the seventies era at all, since these stars were at their prime way before seventies!

Lets now move to Disco. They show Shahrukh gyrating to a disco track called ‘Dard-e-Disco’. If we rewind, Disco arrived in the west in the seventies indeed, but in India, its unquestionably an eighties phenomenon. Feroz Khan’s Qurbani ushered in the era of Disco on the Indian silver screen with Nazia Hasan’s ‘Aap jaisa koi..’ storming the charts. It was released in 1980! Hari Om Hari followed this from Pyara Dushman the same year. In 1981 came Nazia Hasan’s Disco Deewane, Ramanand Sagar’s Armaan with Ramba ho, Nasir Husain’s Zamaane Ko Dikhana Hai with Poochho na yaar kya hua, Rakesh Kumar’s Yaarana with Saara zamaana, haseenon ka deewana, and Sunil Dutt’s Rocky with Aa dekhen zaraa. By the time we reach 1982, Disco was everywhere, from a Paan shop to the HIG drawing room. The phenomenon bloomed on popular patronage with Disco’82 from Ravi Tandon’s Khud-daar, Disco station Disco from Surendra Mohan’s Hathkadi and Jaane-jaan from Barkha Roy’s SanamTeri Kasam. As we reached 1983, Bappi Lahiri delivered the baap of all Disco albums – B.Subhash’s Disco Dancer! The association of Disco with seventies is therefore blasphemy!

Finally lets look at the icons of seventies – two stars dominated the era unchallenged – Rajesh Khanna and Amitabh Bachchan. From 1970 to 1973 it was Rajesh Khanna all the way. In 1973, Prakash Mehra’s Zanjeer hit the theatres with Salim Javed’s Angry Young Man exploding the screen. Amitabh Bachchan arrived in style, and took no time to be crowned the numero uno, a position he hasn’t vacated since then. With Deewar, Trishul, Kabhi Kabhie, Sholay, Amar Akbar Anthony, Don, Muqaddar ka Sikandar, Suhaag, Adalat, Mr Natwarlal, Kaala Patthar, Do Anjaane, Abhimaan, Mili, Khoon Pasina, Hera Pheri, Majboor, Adalat and the endearing Chupke-Chupke, the Amitabh phenomenon – to quote a celebrated gay critic, “snowballed into a cult”, standing heads and shoulders above the rest in the decisive seventies decade. In the film claiming to give a tribute to the seventies Bollywood, there is no trace or hint of Amitabh Bachchan ever having influenced the era. Shame. I am also surprised at the film critics who ignored the fact that elements from other decades are also blooming in the seventies Bollywood created for the celluloid.

Posted on January 11, 2008