Mumtaz

Mumtaz realised an impossible dream. In an industry notorious for its nonegalitarianism, she was that rare actress who rose from non-featured roles to become the most saleable actress of the early 70s, through sheer charm, sunny good humour and fiesty sexuality.

Though Mumtaz, with her youth and jaunty insouciance, very obviously fit into the image of the conventional Hindi film heroine, it took producers a long to recognize it. Little Mumtaz and her sister, Mallika, had started going to the studios, as soon as they entered their teens, doing whatever roles came their way. Their origins were strictly middleclass but their mother, Naaz, and their aunt, Neelofer, had been celebrated beauties in their time. Mumtaz inherited their allure and soon outpaced Mallika as she started winning attention for small roles in major films like Sehra (’63) and Mere Sanam (’65).

Times were hard, she had to counter several ‘Put up or shut up’ responses but this born coquette added a splashy dimension of zany fun to even small roles like the semi-autobiographical desperately-seeking-success starlet of Pyar Kiye Jaa (’66). A lucky windfall was the Dara Singh wave of the mid-60s. Caught up in its sweep, Mumtaz did 16 stunt films with Singh that were sterile artistically but satisfying financially.

No single godfather can claim credit for lifting this self-made maiden out of this rut. When Dilip Kumar agreed to have her as one of his heroines in Ram Aur Shyam (’67), her stock went soaring. When V Shantaram replaced daughter Rajshree with Mumtaz in Boond Jo Ban Gaye Moti (’68), she fainted with joy. But all that star appeal that had been dormant for years finally ignited like a firecracker when in 1969 Mumtaz met her ‘match’ in Rajesh Khanna. Do Raaste, Saccha Jhootha, Apna Desh and Dushman made them the premiere box office duet.

Mumtaz became the toast of the early 70s. She magnanimously forgave those who had snubbed her in the past. Shashi Kapoor had once rejected films opposite her, yet she cheerily did Chor Machaye Shor when he was going through a low phase. Mumtaz strongly espoused the cause of other artistes. Her protegee, Shatrughan Sinha, swears eternal gratitude to Mumtaz.

Onscreen, she was a mantrap, yet every gesture was also calculated for cuteness. A stray Khilona (’70), won her praise for her acting but Mumtaz never disavowed the oft-repeated analysis that her appeal lay in her flagrant sexiness. She continued to flaunt her physicality in Apradh and Loafer. Unfortunately, her attempts at respectability, Aap Ki Kasam and Prem Kahani, did not quite come off, and the film industry once again underutilized (like Geeta Bali and Tanuja before her) an actress whose forte was not melodrama but a joie de vivre that gave her a direct link to the audience.

This maverick was on the crest of a fresh wave of success in 1974 (Roti, Chorillachaye Shor) when she decided to give it all up for marriage to London- based Gujarati millionaire, Mayur Madhwani. Sixteen years and two daughters later, rumbles of trouble invaded her marital paradise. “I have 10 houses but no home,” she lamented. Mumtaz took an ill-advised plunge back into films with Aandhiyan (’90). But the audience turned away disappointed. This was not the vibrating reincarnation of the Mumu they expected. This was not the full-of-­beans jeune fille that they had loved. The button nose was still there but that trademark sparkle in the eye was conspicuous by its absence.

Waheeda Rehman in Ram aur Shyam (1967)

The theme of identical twins has been present in many cinemas (this being one of the most basic ‘tricks’ available to cinema that was not available to live performances such as plays). Common to melodramas, it is taken to extremes in Hindi cinema, with not just identical twins (Afsana [1951], Anhonee [1952], Gol maal, Hum dono [1961], and others, including ‘fake’ doubles in Jewel Thief) but unrelated doubles (Don, Kaho na pyaar hai), while there are many other examples of non-identical brothers separated at birth (Amar, Akbar, Anthony, Johny mera naam and many others) as well as brothers who are opposites (Mother India, Gunga Jumna, Deewaar and so on).

Ram aur Shyam is also interesting for being one of several south Indian films that were remade in Hindi in southern studios. Shot in Madras, it was a remake of a Telugu hit starring N. T. Rama Rao, Ramudu Bheemudu (1964), whose director, B. Nagi Reddi, produced this film for a new director, Chanakya.

The timid Ram (Dilip Kumar) is terrified of his brother-in-law Gajendra Babu (Pran), who has bullied him all his life but, to protect his sister (Nirupa Roy) and niece, he suffers in silence. Gajendra wants Ram to marry heiress Anjana (Waheeda Rehman) so he can take her money as well as Ram’s. When Ram realises that Gajendra will stop at nothing, he runs away. Meanwhile, we have met the lively and fearless Shyam (Dilip Kumar) who lives in a village, where he gets up to mischief and loves playing jokes, especially on his friend Shanta (Mumtaz). He goes to the city, where he rescues Anjana, who thinks he is Ram. They fall in love but he cannot convince her that he is not Ram. Meanwhile, Shanta falls in love with Ram, who has ended up in Shyam’s village. Gajendra also mistakes Shyam for Ram, so is in for a shock when Shyam asserts himself. However, he finds Ram and imprisons him, then accuses Shyam of his murder; only later does it emerge that Ram and Shyam are twins separated at birth.

Dilip Kumar was known as the king of tragedy, so his debut in comedy was anticipated with skepticism if not amusement. However, as soon as Shyam appears, all doubts were dispelled, as he gives a hilarious performance as a villager hired to be a hero in a film who actually beats up all the baddies and is told that he will never make it in the movies. He is then soundly beaten by his mother for even thinking about joining the film industry. It must have been quite a shock when the film came out to see Dilip Kumar dancing and singing at a children’s party, pulling faces and putting on silly voices. The others play roles with which they were usually associated. Waheeda and Mumtaz were well cast as opposing types. While Waheeda was already established as a major star, this was the film that moved Mumtaz onto the A-list of actresses, a position she would hold until her marriage. Nirupa Roy is saintly and long-suffering, while Pran is cruel and villainous.

The music for this film is not Naushad’s best score but songs such as ‘Aaj ki raat’ were quite popular.

Cast and Production Credits

Year – 1967, Genre – Drama, Country – India, Language – Hindi, Producer – Vijaya International, Director – Chanakya, Music Director – Naushad, Cast – Dilip Kumar, Waheeda Rehman, Mumtaz, Nirupa Roy, Kanhaiyalal, Nazir Hussain, Sajjan, Mukri, Amar, Leela Misra, Zebunissa, Farida, Pran

Mumtaz

Mumtaz’s first cinematic appearance wasn’t in a film role, but during two intermittent song interludes in M. Usman’s 1973 Urdu film Farz where she wiggled her voluptuous yet constrained figure. This body kineticism gave way to another outstanding song sequence in Haider Chaudry’s Punjabi film Ziddi with Yusuf Khan, Zamarrud and Firdous. The song, based in a mujra milieu, became famous and popular for it’s erotic appeal and the suggestive wording of it’s opening lines: Ve chad meri veeni na maror (Don’t you twist my arms).

Mumtaz’s first acting role was as a supporting heroine in Shamim Ara’s Bhool (1974) starring Nadeem, Shabnam and Babra Sharif. Despite several other nondescript roles during the early 1970′s, two superhits came to Mumtaz’s way during the mid 70′s. One was 1975′s multi-starrer Jab Jab Phool Khiley with Waheed Murad, Mohammad Ali, Nadeem and Zeba and the other was the comedy Pyar ka Mausam with Munawwar Zarif. Mumtaz’s fledgling career was on a roll. Other successes included 1975′s Mohabat Zindagi Hai with Waheed Murad in which a song titled Tut trut trut tara tara landed Mumtaz in hot soup with the Censor Board and the newly installed Zia regime banning it from all electronic media. Although the song was hardly suggestive or erotic, the words through some subconscious transference implied a rude kink, despite another more suggestive song in the film, the brazenly lewd Dil sambhala na jaey. Another hit which endeared her to the masses was 1974′s Jadoo with Shahid.

During the 1970′s Mumtaz was embroiled in a huge scandal during the making of S. Suleiman’s Intezar (1974). Mumtaz’s then husband, studio owner Bari Malik, was scandalized by the close proximity shared by Mumtaz and her co-star Nadeem and made the cinematic duo drink a glass of milk on the set to pledge their siblinghood as brother and sister. She was married to Malik for a short period before separating from him in early 1980′s. During the early 1980′s only three film actresses held court in Pakistani film’s throne room : Shabnam, Babra Sharif and Mumtaz. During her hey day, Mumtaz’s outstanding films include 1981′s Manzil with Muhammad Ali and Shabnam; 1982′s Khushboo with Shahid and Rani; and 1984′s Muqadar ka Sikandar with Muhammad Ali and Sultan Rahi.

In late 1980′s, due to her considerable weight, she was slotted into Punjabi films wearing lacha kurta and begin paired with and competing with the other voluptuous screen diva, Anjuman notably in 1981′s Sher Khan.

In this still from 1974′s Shikar with Shahid, Mumtaz is made to dance like a marionette in the film’s first song, Dil leke mukar geya haey wearing an emerald cut guluband set, floral hairs, gem pins and the gota covered jora with cone held dupatta, one wonders if the larger than life actress’s private existence and career had as many strings pulling them.