D se hota hai DISCO

Disco Dancer (B. Subhash, 1982)

I have to say, I approached Disco Dancer with a little bit of trepidation, not wanting to sour my experience of the popular classic by having crazily inflated expectations. I was kind of fortunate actually – I've obviously been aware of Disco Dancer for almost as long as I've been aware of Bollywood films but largely, my awareness of the film has been limited to the extremely vague concept of Disco Dancer as one of the biggest cult films to come out of India.

So here's what I knew:

1. Disco Dancer was hugely popular in the Soviet Union – like, mega-mega-mega popular, attaining cult, iconic status, and I'm pretty sure I read somewhere else it was big in Japan or China. And it remains this huge cult, kitschy classic with audiences both in and outside of India, even recently inspiring a book exploring its enduring allure.
2. It stars Mithun Chakraborty in the role he's pretty much famous for.
3. It has at least two famous songs in it, one that goes Aaja Jimmy Aaja and one that spells out DISCO
4. It's all about a guy called Jimmy who is a disco dancer. Who dances his way through the film.

Special bonus quasi-fact:

I'm pretty sure THIS AMAZING FILM borrows from/is inspired by Disco Dancer. (Having actually seen DD now – yep. Pretty damn sure).

If you gave me that information, I could not write a cult hit based around disco dancing, because...yeah – where do you go plot-wise? SO OBVIOUSLY I WAS CURIOUS as to how and why this film has inspired such a following.

Disco Dancer is the story of Anil, a talented street kid who is accused of stealing by a prominent businessman. Anil's mother takes the blame for the non-existent crime and ends up in jail. On her release, she and Anil flee from the public humiliation – people follow them through the streets every day chanting “Mother's a thief, son's a thief!”, which would get tiresome pretty quick - and leave their home in Mumbai for Goa, with Anil vowing to return one day to take revenge on the man who put his mother in prison.

This guy.

 

18 years later, Anil gets his wish in... slightly unorthodox fashion. Unless of course, you are the star of a highly melodramatic Bollywood film, in which case, his path to revenge is totally on course.

Instead of returning to Mumbai as a gangster or a vigilante cop, heart set on hunting down the businessman who got his maa locked up, Anil (Mithun Chakraborty) returns benignly as an aspiring street performer. His lifelong talent for singing and dancing soon gets him noticed by talent agent David Brown (Om Puri) who cuts difficult star disco dancer Sam loose in favour of signing a fresh, talented face.

Anil, with a new stage name “Jimmy” and the benefit of David Brown's expert management rapidly rockets to disco stardom.

Poor, former megastar Sam naturally seethes with bitter jealousy. Turns out, in a shocking twist: he's the evil businessman's son. Other twist: SAM'S SISTER IS JIMMY'S LOVE INTEREST. DUN DUN DUUUUUN.

Together, Sam and his dad plot Jimmy's downfall because there is no way they will let him get away with being a better disco dancer than Sam. 

 

 

Dad has a lot riding on Jimmy's failure.

 

 

 Sam talks about himself in 3rd person WAY TOO MUCH.

(Can I just say right now, if you've seen the film, you will know than your grandma is a better disco dancer than Sam. Sam is basically THE WORST DANCER I HAVE EVER SEEN EVER IN MY LIFE).

I loved every second of Disco Dancer, and can totally see why it has inspired such a following.

Among the tiny details I just adored:

The incredibly florid, melodramatic dialogues:

Some of the (admittedly unsubtle, but still quite lovely) editing and effects – like when David Brown is talking about how he will make Jimmy into a star and it cuts from him to star shaped lights.

Or this when Jimmy's world falls apart:

I can't help but think that its reputation as a kitschy classic (read: hot mess or ridiculous awesome cracktastic masterpiece) is slightly unjustified though. On the whole, it's not a lot more crazy or outrageous than any other Bollywood masala melodrama...it's just that the story and the songs are centred around a very specific, distinctive trend that was popular for a really short, specific time.

Fact: disco came a little late to India. Saturday Night Fever, the (Hollywood) movie that brought disco from underground clubs into mainstream culture, was released in 1977, and was a mega, super hit, and though it is a much darker, different kind of film to Disco Dancer, you can see lovely little echoes and tributes all through Disco Dancer.

The disco in Disco Dancer – in 1982 - is not the disco of the West in 1977. 

 This song, for example, is all about Lord Krishna.

This is a different beast entirely. The precise, intricate dance moves of Travolta are replaced by...well, kind of aerobic shimmying and a LOT of pelvic thrusting. It's more about the energy, seemingly, than the steps. And of course, this song, which we are all familiar with:

The film plot does take a turn into slightly...deranged territory, briefly, when Sam and Pop Oberoi's scheme to bring down Jimmy involves SPOILER ALERT...MAKING JIMMY AFRAID OF HIS OWN GUITAR. By rigging up an electrified electric guitar with tragic consequences, Sam and Oberoi succeed in triggering a “guitar phobia” in Jimmy, sabotaging his act just in time for the International Disco Competition at the climax of the film.

But come on – THAT'S HOW YOU MAKE A FILM ABOUT DISCO DANCING SUPER AWESOME!

Well, that, and this:

 Seriously. Worth it for THIS SHOT ALONE.

Mere Brother Ki Dulhan

Mere Brother Ki Dulhan (Ali Abbas Zafar, 2011) 

 

Mere Brother Ki Dulhan tells the story of Indian-based Kush (Imran Khan), who is tasked with finding a bride for his London-based brother Luv (Ali Zafar). The girl he chooses – Dimple (Katrina Kaif) is perfect because she is a little unconventional – wilder than most Indian girls, she'll fit into life in London perfectly. The problem? Before Luv arrives for the wedding, Kush and Dimple fall in love. Now they have to figure out a way to halt the impending nuptials and end up together, without resorting to the filmi standby of running away together.

Basically the first thing you learn about genre in film studies is that watching a genre film is essentially like an exercise in ticking off a list of the elements that comprise that particular genre. Action films have car chases and explosions, corruption and redemption; romantic films have boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy wins girl back; obviously I'm waaaay simplifying things but you get my drift.

There's a formula and certain things that are always included – so the pleasure in a genre flick is partly in the recognition of those familiar elements, but also in recognising how the same elements are put together in a new way, or enhanced so that the familiar feels fresh and exciting and new.

I started thinking about the pleasures of genre as soon as the title song in Mere Brother Ki Dulhan kicked in: a song that sees Imran Khan pay tribute to the three key Khans in Bollywood: Shahrukh, Salman and uncle Aamir; 

as well as shouting out to a couple of the big Bollywood romantic film tropes like running to reunite with a love on a train

and emoting arms outstretched to the sky.

These elements are all familiar from having seen them before: yet seeing these moments recreated in the opening song I was PSYCHED for the rest of the film – because I simultaneously felt the thrill of recognition: “yes! I know that reference!” and as if I was seeing these moments for the first time – Imran Khan bringing his own goofy, likeable charm to the hero role. Later on in the film another filmi icon will play its part: the Taj Mahal, along with several other checkboxes for a Bollywood romance being ticked: lovers attempting to run away, clashes between cultural and generational traditions causing problems, preparations for a big glitzy wedding going ahead because of fears for "reputations" involved...

What I'm leading up to saying is this: on paper, Mere Brother Ki Dulhan reads like nothing especially original – which is why, I think, in the lead-up to its release, I was less than excited for it – it was hardly even on my radar. On the surface, MBKD seems like just another Hindi romantic comedy with the same elements as pretty much every Hindi romantic comedy that has preceded it: boy meets girl, falls in love, there's a hurdle they have to conquer to be together (tradition/parents/society). We already know the journey from A to B (and if you don't know that romantic comedies are characterised by their happy endings, then you must never have seen one) – but it's in the fine details and embellishments on the journey along the way that the film lies.

I've mentioned it plenty of times before, but I'll say it again – one of the things I love the most in Bollywood films is when they are abundant with filmi references and commentary. It can be overt sometimes, hyper-aware and over the top, taken to the point that characters break the fourth wall and address the audience; or it can be more naturally incorporated in the filmi universe created onscreen – which is the case with Mere Brother Ki Dulhan. The characters in this film either work in Bollywood (Imran Khan's character, Kush, is an Assistant Film Director), or, like the rest of us, are fully pop-culture aware and saturated, speaking to each other in famous film-quotes as shorthand, referencing films and filmstars in their everyday conversations...and fantasies: Ali Zafar's character, Luv, drunkenly sees a resemblance between his fiancee Dimple (Katrina Kaif) and a film hoarding for Mughal-E-Azam featuring the beautiful Madhubala:

Which brings me to the elephant in the room: Katrina Kaif. I've never written much about her on the blog before because, to be honest, I've never been greatly enamoured of her. As in: previously, I mostly couldn't stand her. This is the second film this year that I have LOVED her. (Believe me, I never EVER thought I would write that). MBKD really is Katrina's film (after all, it is named for her character) and reveals her, after her natural wildchild hippy turn in ZNMD, to be a talented comic actress.

I think the thing is that I've never really bought Katrina Kaif when she's in a role that requires her to be a sultry siren or sell her “sexiness” too hard; in MBKD (and in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, also this year) she comes across for much of the time as far more natural and relaxed, and far more likeable for it. I would much rather see Katrina channel her goofy side – which she apparently does pretty well – and see her like this:

because that is far more sexy than any gyrating scantily clad choreography she can learn.

The whole reason I even watched this film in the first place, given I wasn't initially psyched for it, was for Imran Khan. I can't help it, I am a super fan of the guy. I HATED him in Delhi Belly though, and MBKD helped me figure out why: what I like most about Imran is his sincerity. He can't really dance that well (and he has admitted as much in interviews) but damn if he doesn't throw himself into every sequence. I love it when he's playing a goofy, lovestruck guy who actually emotes (so, the opposite of his character in Delhi Belly) – Kush waggles his eyebrows sardonically in song; reveals to his friends inadvertently how much he loves Dimple because his face is like an open book, will dress up in silly outfits and do Dimple's bidding because he loves her.

I like Hindi movies because nobody is scared to show their emotions and Mere Brother Ki Dulhan ticks this box (not just with Imran but he's my favourite); I realise now that the complete lack of emotion in Delhi Belly was part of why I hated it so much. 

To dismiss MBKD as an ordinary romantic comedy would be to do it a great disservice. MBKD is a great pleasure to watch - greater than the sum of its parts: a likeable, talented set of leads;  fantastic, well-picturised songs; a satisfying ending that ticks the elemental boxes in slightly unexpected fashion. It is a mass entertainer with pure heart and plenty, PLENTY of filmi soul.