Madhubala in Mahal (1949)

Bombay Talkies Mahal is a story of ghosts, spooks, apparitions, jitters, quivers, bats and snakes. It succeeds in giving one the creeps, but through more causes than one. In the initial stage the spine tingling chill of weird horror which slowly creeps down one’s back is because of the masterly genius ace cameraman Josef Wirsching whose brilliant use of the camera imparts to Mahal that dreaded foreboding of evil and terror which lurks there. But later on the cold shiver of fear which one experiences is the cumulative effect of director Kamal Amrohi’s excursion into the realms of meta-physics. In trying to tackle the subject of reincarnation Kamal Amrohi, to use the cricket parlance, merely swung the bat in the empty air. I give full credit to him for the daring and initiative that he has shown in taking up such a subject. But daring and initiative without good sense and logic are like boiled potatoes with out pepper and salt. In it’s final analysis Kamal Amrohi has failed in Mahal for the simple reason that the innumerable movie goers who go into fits of rapture over Mahal are still unable to cite a reason for their appreciation, except mumble a few words about the enthralling realism of it’s weird atmosphere. But that is a wonderful tribute to Wirsching and not to Amrohi.

According to me the greatness of Mahal as a picture lies in the towering achievement of Wirsching who photographed it. If the critics rave about it and the public applauds it, then it is because of Josef Wirsching, the wizard with the lens who has made of Mahal a milestone in the annals of the Indian film industry. The magic of his camera, has through the witchery of it’s crafts imparted to Mahal an atmosphere of awe and wonder. The fluttering curtains, banging doors, shaking chandeliers, fleeting shadows on the wall have all been so vividly captured on the celluloid that it throws a grim mantle of mystery over Mahal.

But now coming to Kamal Amrohi’s role in the picture as a director I fail to perceive any noteworthy part which he has played in the creation of Mahal, except for the boundless opportunity which he gave to Wirsching to exhibit his talents and prowess in his own field. One would have preferred a more sensible and logical solution of the mystery than the drivelling gamut of reincarnation which badly cripples whatever interest audience may have held in the story. From the moment Amrohi strove to bring the three generations hobnobbing into the picture he missed the mark and in trying to hit an overbound he failed to contact the ball.

In the first half of the picture the eerie atmosphere fits in well with the mood and the events depicted. But from the moment Vijaylaxmi steps in and Ashok Kumar drags her through an interminable process of climbing and panting, does Mahal from a well balanced picture suddenly merges into a blood curdling boredom, which, as I have already mentioned, also gives one a cold fright.

The most glaring inconsistency in the story was the letter written by Vijaylaxmi, in the role of Ashok Kumar’s wife, to her sister-in-law confiding the secret of suicide to her. If she wished her husband to die because of her false confession than why did she write that letter thus, most obviously ruining her own plans? Then again how did the last letter of Vijaylaxmi went to dead letter office when all others were delivered safely? Obviously to bring about the court scene and other following scenes which would otherwise could never have been presented as Amrohi wanted.

Kamal Amrohi’s idea of a Dak Bungalow seems to be a dilapidated broken down, dusty and inhabitable shack, nestling precariously on what seems to be a mountain. Its only dwellers appear to be bats, snakes and cobwebs. Such gross and blatant ignorance is ridiculous and Amrohi would have done better to see what a Dak Bungalow looks like before depicting it in Mahal. Granting even for the sake of argument that Dak Bungalows are a battleground for bat and snake fights and that this particular one was not inhabited for a long time, then one would question as to how a well regulated clock giving correct time happened to be there?

Ashok Kumar and Madhubala have both given the finest performance of their careers, thus adding extra luster to their already shining reputation. The rest of the cast including Vijaylaxmi, Kanu Roy, and Kumar did their parts well.

If only Amrohi had left spiritualism  alone and wound up this mystery melodrama in a normal way, Mahal would have become the finest picture to come out of the Indian film industry.

Music by the late Mr. Khemchand Prakash was most melodious. Songs were well composed and dialogues were written intelligently. The defect of Mahal lay in it’s mystic phenomena. Kamal Amrohi’s direction was both brilliant and deft.

Mahal is an unusual picture. By all means it is worth a visit if only to see the superb photography of Josef Wirsching and to indulge in the luxury of seeing something new on the Indian screen. (The Motion Picture Magazine, December 1950)

Cast and Production Credits

Year – 1949, Genre – Mystery/Thriller, Country – India, Language – Hindi, Producer – Bombay Talkies,  Director –Kamal Amrohi, Music Director – Khemchand Prakash, Cast - Madhubala, Vijayalaxmi, Kumar, Kanu Roy, S. Nazir, E. Tarapore, Sheela Naik, Neelam, Ashok Kumar

Kumar as 'Sangtrash' in Mughal-e-Azam (1960)

With brilliant character actors of the level of Talish, Alauddin, Zeenat Begum, Kumar and Bibbo, Pakistan were fast coming up as a cinematic entity in the 1950s. After 1970s, the situation deteriorated, because most of these artistes had either died or become too old to act. One of those stalwarts, who made their mark very early after the Partition, was Ali Mir Kumar, a man now distinctly known to the enthusiasts of the films for his vital performance in film Tauba. Kumar belonged to UP India, with his family amongst the most respected Lucknow families of the Syed’s. His real name was Syed Ali Hasan Zaidi, but was lovingly called Mir Mujjan in the family. He started his career in films from New Theatres, Calcutta. His first two movies were Subah Ka Tara and Zinda Lash, in 1932. In these films, he was playing what is called a side role, while the hero in both of them was Saigal, with Rattan Bai. In his third film, Pooran Bhagat, which also had Saigal, Ali Mir became popularly known as Kumar. A personable man, Kumar soon made his presence felt, and was soon being considered as a stylish artiste. He was considered the most well dressed and polished person in the Indian industry. His other films in India were Yahudi Kee Larki, Watan, Suhag, Shehr Ka Jadoo, Maa Ka Pyar, Mughal-e-Azam, Nek Parveen and many others. His acting and dialogue delivery had an individual class, which is evident in many films, including Kamal Amrohi’s Mahal, where as the father of the accused, he implores the barrister to advocate his case well. Similarly, in Tauba, when he realizes that he has wasted his life in drinking, the face registers such sadness that is only brought on by the greatest artistes of their times. As Haji Sahab in Nek Parveen, and as Madhubala’s father in film Tarana, Kumar also impressed. Kumar married a very well known actress of her days, Pramella, and both of them established their own film making house, called Silver House, making films like Naseeb, Jhankar, Barey Nawab Sahab and Devar. His daughter from Pramella was Naqi Jahan, who was a most stunning beauty, and later participated in a Miss India contest.

In 1963, Kumar migrated to Pakistan, and started to work in Pakistani films without any delay. His son, S. A. Hafiz, who made Tauba, later became one of the best and well known directors of the country. Kamal and Zeba played the lead in Tauba, which became a grand success. Kumar performed so brilliantly that the young generation of those times also discovered his potential. In the film, Kumar is shown to be a person belonging to a good family, whose obsession with wine lands him into trouble, and he throws away, a lot of his fortune in pursuance of the drink. But, at the climax, losing all he has, he travels to Data Darbar and falls down at the steps. He wants to repent for his sins, and the Qawwali that follows Na milta agar yeh tauba ka sahara to hum kahan jatay, sung so famously by Saleem Raza, Munir Hussain, Irene Panreen and others, was the highlight of the film. There was a famous legend built around that Qawwali that Kumar was also a drunkard in real life, and having acted in the climax scene, he got so affected that he actually swore off sharab! It is noted by film critics that Qawwali was first used in Pakistan, as a potent climactic element, in Tauba. A. Hameed, who was one of the most versatile music directors of Pakistan, gave super hit songs in the film, including this fine Qawwali in 1964.

Kumar worked in quite a few Pakistani films, including Head Constable, Azad, Shabnam, Naela, Saiqa, Sajda (his own film), Hum Dono, Nadya Ke Paar, Ik Musaflr Ik Hasina, Baalam etc. Kumar died in 1982, while his son, S. A Hafiz had gone and settled in America, and died there. Two fine cameramen of the industry, Azhar Zaidi and Muzaffar Zaidi were Kumar’s nephews, while PTV’s famous makeup artiste, Lily Raza is his niece.

Dilip Kumar, Madhubala and Prithviraj Kapoor in Mughal-e-Azam (1960)

Mughal-e Azam tells the story of the Great Mughal, Akbar (r. 1556-1605). The film’s making was itself something of an epic, as it took over fifteen years to shoot, and involved a complete change of cast (the original included Chandramohan, who played Jehangir in Pukar [1939], Nargis and Sapru), several writers and so on. It had the largest budget of any film of its day, Rs 15m, of which a large proportion was spent on costumes, sets and extras. The cinematography is superb, mostly black and white, with some songs shot in colour, including Anarkali’s defiant ‘Pyar kiya to darna kya?’, which was shot in the Sheesh Mahal or Mirror Palace.

The story concerns Anarkali (Madhubala), a dancing girl in the Mughal court. Prince Salim (later Emperor Jehangir) (Dilip Kumar) falls in love with Anarkali but his father, Emperor Akbar (Prithviraj Kapoor), forbids him to continue this affair. Salim leads a campaign against his father, is defeated and sentenced to death. Anarkali offers to sacrifice her life to save Salim and is buried alive, although Akbar allows her to escape through a tunnel unknown to Salim.

It is not clear whether Anarkali was a historical person, but she was certainly a legendary figure. A favorite story for Indian theatre, the first film version of her life was a silent shot in 1928 by the Great Eastern Corporation of Lahore: The Loves of a Mogul Prince (1928), based on Syed lmtiaz Ali Taj’s play, Anarkali. The Imperial Film Company of Bombay made its own version of the film with Sulochana, and in 1953 Filmistan made Anarkali with Bina Rai and Pradeep Kumar, but Mughal-e Azam outshone them all.

Mughal-e Azam tells Mughal history in the context of the new nation, emphasized by the voiceover at the beginning and the depiction of the Muslim sites of India, yet it relates family history rather than social history. The film brings out themes that are popular in Hindi film, notably the struggle between the father and son, and between public duty and private desires and the self-sacrificing woman. It evades issue of Hindu—Muslim relations, despite the Mughal’s reputation for even ­handedness, although it suggests religious tolerance in the court, as Queen Jodhabai (Durga Khote) was a Hindu and Anarkali sings a Hindu devotional song on the occasion of the birth of Krishna, Janmashtami, ‘Mohe panghat pe’, with Akbar participating in his wife’s Hindu rituals.

Mughal-e Azam is greatly enhanced by Naushad’s music (and Shakeel Badayuni’s lyrics), in particular, two numbers sung by Bade Ghulam Ali Khan (‘Shubh din aayo’ and ‘Prem jogan banke’). As well as the two Anarkali songs mentioned earlier, there is a qawwali and the thrillingly dramatic ‘Mohabbat ki jhooti kahaani pe roye’, which Anarkali siings when she is in the dungeons, bound in chains. One of the most popular songs is the wonderful qawwali competitions between Anarkali and Bahaar (Nigar Sultana), ‘Teri mehfil mein kismat aazmaakar hum bhi Dekhenge.’

The film contains perhaps the most erotic sequence of Hindi cinema, where Dilip Kumar and Madhubala, said to be off-screen lovers, are shot in close-up, Madhubala’s beautiful and iconic face motionless in ecstasy as Dilip Kumar watches in adoration. From time to time they tease the viewers by hiding their faces from the camera with a white (?) feather, forbidding the audience’s look but inviting their speculation.

Cast and Production Credits

Year – 1960, Genre – Historical, Country – India, Language – Hindi, Producer – Sterling Investment Corporation, Director – K. Asif, Music Director – Naushad, Cast – Murad, Johnny Walker, Durga Khote, Surendra, Sheila Dalaya, Dilip Kumar, Madhubala, Prithviraj Kapoor, Nigar Sultana, Kumar, Jalal Agha, Vijayalaxmi, S. Nazir, Paul Sharma, Tabassum, Ajit