Synopsis

Kalyani (Nutan), an inmate of a women's ward of a prison in pre-independent India, appears determined to serve out her full term, resisting the kind overtures of the prison doctor, Deven (Dharmendra), who wishes to marry her, fearing her past will catch up with her. Her past is
told in flashback. In Bengal in the 1930s, the daughter of the postmaster (Raja Paranjpe) of
the village, she had become involved with the anarchist Bikash Ghosh (Ashok Kumar).
Bikash and Kalyani become close to one another and fall in love and in a difficult situation
she is passed off as Bikash's wife in order to save his life. Bikash proposes to her and her father agrees to the marriage. Bikash leaves the village promising to come back. He never
does and Kalyani learns he has married someone else. The family becomes the butt of
ridicule in the village causing Kalyani to leave the village to avoid her father's dishonour. She starts working in a hospital taking care of a particular shrewish and obnoxious woman
patient. Her father comes to the city in search of her but is killed in an accident. The same
day she discovers the woman she is taking care of is Bikash's wife. Believing the woman
to be the cause of all her troubles, Kalyani poisons her. Deven is still willing to marry her
and after reading her story, his mother too accepts her. As she leaves for Deven's house
where happiness awaits her, she runs into Bikash again. He is now terminally ill. She
learns the real circumstances of Bikash's unhappy marriage, done for the freedom cause,
and decides to go with him.

The Film

Bandini is arguably Bimal Roy's greatest and most complete film, Do Bigha Zameen nothwithstanding. The shooting of Bandini had taken place in Bhagalpur.The story is based on a book by Jarasandha, a former jail superintendent who wrote fictional versions of
his experiences (Louha-Kapat (1953), Tamasha (1958), Nyaydanda (1961)). Set at a time
when women had no choices, the film's protagonist Kalyani had the courage to not only
make choices in her life but choices which at times might appear to be even wrong ones
as she gives up everything for love.

What is exteremly interesting in the film, which suggests a straight link between terrorism
and patricide, is the form used by Bimalda. The story, told in flashback from the woman's
point of view, is unraveled in a manner such that by and large she is always there or from
where she can overhear the goings on rather than the general practice of opening up the
story to a neutral point of view and then relating the whole story. Thus the viewer gets to understand Kalyani and her actions much more clearly and are tied up to her character
right from the beginning, thereby respecting her for her actions. Interestingly when Bikash
tells Kalyani his story, Bimalda uses the flashback within flashback device in the film,
surely one of the earliest use of such a technique in Indian Cinema. The title, Bandini, is explained in the climax of the film in the song Mere Saajan Hai Us Paar - Main Bandini
Hoon Piya ki, Main Sangini Hoon Saajan ki...The character of Kalyani gets lifted from that
of a woman who is a prisoner of destiny to one who defines her own freedom. It may be
another form of servitude but it is one of her own making, not something imposed on her.

While the events of the story are highly melodramatic, Bimalda takes great care to handle
them with sensitivity, simplicity and subtlety. He beautifully uses imagery and sound to
convey the various moods of the female prisoner, Kalyani. As she is seated in the corner
of her grey, grim cell facing the prison's high wall, she can hear the hoofs of the horse
pulling the carriage taking away Deven, or that masterful scene in which Kalyani murders Bikash's wife with the hammering of a welder in the background thus heightening the drama! Every frame is so well thought out and full of rich subtext. Kalyani and Deven are constantly shown together in their early meetings without any sort of barrier between them but when
Deven decides to propose to her, the scene is delicately handled with the door between
them as Kalyani refuses his proposal without seeing him, the door symbolic of the barrier Kalyani sees in their future life together due to her past. After that the two of them are
always framed with a barrier between them for e.g. he is outside the room and she seen through the barred window of the room and vice versa i.e. her inside the room and Deven
seen outside through the window finally culminating in the masterly scene mentioned above
as Kalyani 'hears' his departure from the other side of the wall. Splendid use is made of the prison guard as he announces 'Sab Theek Hai (Everything is fine)' at times when nothing is actually going well. The first time he does so, a freedom fighter is caught and brought to the jail. The second time Deven goes out of Kalyani's life and the third time the freedom fighter
is hung, all fine examples of making an ironic counterpoint in the film.

If one person is the life and soul of Bandini, it is Nutan. Bandini sees her give an extra - ordinary performance - certainly one of the greatest by an actress in Indian Cinema ranking right there with Nargis in Mother India (1957) and Meena Kumari in Sahib, Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962). Totally devoid of highly charged emotion and theatrics, Nutan appears as a quiet woman with her passions raging from within her and plays her role with great delicacy and dignity. One just has to see the entire gamut of emotions fleeting across her face in the
film's key sequence as she murders her lover's wife. It is a masterful performance by an
artiste supreme at the peak of her histrionic powers. Ironically Nutan had in fact almost
given up films after marriage and the birth of her son Mohnish. But Bimalda insisted she
take on the film. Nutan responded to the role of a lifetime and how! The success of the film
saw her resume her career as an actress as she went from strength to strength right
through the 1960s and 1970s with strong performances in films like Milan (1967), Saraswatichandra (1968), Saudagar (1973), Sajan Bina Suhagan (1978), Kasturi (1978)
and Main Tulsi Tere Aangan Ki (1978) before being saddled with mundane mother roles
in the 1980s.

Nutan is strongly supported by Ashok Kumar, whose flawles performance matches Nutan scene for scene and Dharmendra, just beginning to make an impact in the film industry. Incidentally Bimal Roy and Ashok Kumar worked together after a period of 10 years
following Parineeta (1953). Parineeta, produced by Ashok Kumar, was shot at the same
time as Bimalda's own home production, Do Bhiga Zameen and Ashok Kumar felt that
Bimalda gave priority to Do Bhiga Zameen at the expense of Parineeta. Famed Marathi
Director Raja Paranjpe ably plays the role of Kalyani's father.

Bandini is brilliantly photographed by Kamal Bose with its rich tonal quality and evocative framing. The film also sees the debut of Gulzar as a lyricist with Mora Gora Ang Laile,
perhaps one of the most romantic songs in Indian Cinema as it expresses the heroine's
first flush of love. The other songs, written by Shailendra, further add to the poetic quality
of the film be it the haunting O Jaanewale Ho Sake to Laut ke Aanaa, or the soulful Ab
ke Baras conveying Kalyani's solitude in prison at one level and the lament of the female prisoner singing it with no hopes of release at another.

The music by S.D. Burman represents perhaps some of the finest work he has done in his entire career. Mora Gora Ang Laile, Ab ke Baras and O Jaanewaale always feature in the
best ever songs of Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosle and Mukesh respectively. Talking of Mukesh, Burmanda hardly ever used him as a singer but as and when he did the result
was sheer magic - Chalri Sajni from Bombay ka Babu (1960) being a case in point. When Mukesh recorded this masterpiece for Burmanda he hadn't sung for him for 11 years
following Shabnam (1949)! Burmanda himself is in fine form as he renders the climactic
song Mere Sajan Hai Us Paar with Nutan beautifully expressing Kalyani's dilemma of
having to choose between security and love. The song picturizations by Bimalda help
enrich the film even further.

Sadly Bandini was the last film of Bimal Roy as a director though he did complete another
film under Bimal Roy Productions, albeit as a producer - Benazir (1964).

Tejpur, which lies on the banks of the Ganga, is a particularly lawless town ruled by the father-son duo of Sadhu and Sundar Yadav (Mohan Joshi and Yashpal Sharma). Even the DIG of police, Amit's boss, and the state home minister turn their eyes away from the Yadavs' crimes.

Moreover, just about every officer working under Amit is on their payroll.

So when Amit tries to clean up the system, he meets with stiff resistance from within and without. His idealism rubs off on one of his subordinates, Bachha Yadav (Mukesh Tiwari), who turns against his mentor Sadhu Yadav and stands by his boss.

When Bachha and three of his subordinates vent their frustrations on two of Sundar's cronies in police lock-up by blinding them with acid (a reference to the Bhagalpur Blindings of 1979-1980 when 30 undertrials were blinded by policemen), the situation spirals into a crisis that gets out of everyone's hands, including that of the filmmaker.

Suddenly, Amit becomes a social crusader than cop, with the entire population of Tejpur standing by him. Good and evil neatly stack up against each other. There are tokenisms like a bad cop whom Amit has suspended suddenly reforming into an honest tea-stall owner, making a very mushy speech about his makeover with a Raj Kapoor song with a socialistic message playing in the background.

The symbolism of acid being described as the gangajal used to cleanse the system does not filter through the confusion of the post-interval mayhem.

But it is heartening to watch Jha's hero keep his idealism intact to the very end and not cop out and go on a killing spree like most other noble filmi policemen do in the name of justice.

While Gangaajal doesn't have anything original to say, it is well shot, well edited and brilliantly enacted by most of the lead actors. Cinematographer Arvind K's visuals lend tremendous character to the discontented yet deceptively calm temple town (shot in Wai, Maharashtra) where the plot unfolds.

Wayne Sharpe's background score is outstanding. There is a stream of restlessness in the seemingly serene notes of the fusion music used in the background track. The film has one song. One wishes directors would do away with these raunchy item numbers, irrespective of whether they are relevant to the storyline or not.

Oh for a heroine who has a role to play! Jha seems to have spent all his creative energies on writing the character of Amit Kumar, his deputies and adversaries and forgotten all about the SP's wife (Gracy Singh), whose only role in the proceedings is to warn her husband about the hazards of smoking, caution him against drinking too much and heating the food.

Worse, Gracy Singh doesn't attempt to lend colour to her screen self. She only makes the heroine look like a caricature. Mohan Joshi repeats his Mrityudand (also directed by Jha) act by playing the supercilious villain with vigour. Yashpal Sharma, on the other hand, has essayed the hedonistic bad man so often in his short career that he has become totally typecast.

One of the most engaging performances in the film comes from Mukesh Tiwari. After a hyped debut in Chinagate five years ago, he finally gets a role that offers scope for histrionics. He delivers the goods without much ado.

Ajay Devgan pulls up an ace with a part tailormade to reinforce his seething-under-the-surface angry hero image. To his credit (and the director's), he brings style and grace to a largely stereotypical, righteous protagonist. To a great extent, his presence covers up the film's patchiness in the second half.

Director Jha does not take the problems addressed by Shool and half-a-dozen other films on similar lines much further. Also, he is rather simplistic with his solutions. But considering the fact that you rarely get to see justice being done outside the fictional confines of the movie halls these days, Gangaajal does offer solace and a sense of retribution.

The young director, who chucked his job in London to make the film, counts Satyajit Ray, Hrishikesh Mukherjee and Alfred Hitchcock among those whose works influenced him.
And for his story-telling skills, he also has his two children to thank! In an interview with
IANS, he reveals why. Excerpts:

"Jhankar Beats" seems inspired by Farhan Akhtar's "Dil Chahta Hai".

It couldn't be. I wrote it before "Dil Chahta Hai" was released. But, yes, I'm prepared for the comparisons. All the characters played by Rahul Bose, Sanjay Suri and Shayan Munshi are based on people I know, including me.
I think my characters in "Jhankar Beats" have reached a stage in life when they need to be more responsible than the dudes in "Dil Chahta Hai". My protagonists are family men.

Why does "Jhankar Beats" look so different from other coming-of-age movies?

Comedies all over the world are edited in a very simple, very linear way. I edited the film like
a thriller. It added that cutting edge into the narrative. Instead of Hrishikesh Mukherjee who's
a big influence on me, I cut my comedy like Alfred Hitchcock.

Who's the biggest influence on your style?

If you push me to a corner, I'd have to say Satyajit Ray. He's one of the directors who
made me realise cinema isn't about what you say but how you say it. I learnt about
making movies from reading and watching lots and lots of movies.

I think I've told more stories to my two children than any father in the world. That's where I
learnt to be a storyteller. That's where I learnt how to hold the audiences' attention. If you
can hold children's attention, you can hold anyone's.

Yours is a very original film.

No, it's not. I copied shamelessly from life. Almost every word that you hear in the film is
from people. I don't know how much I've achieved.
But the one thing that would make me really happy is to have people say my genuine
respect for R.D. Burman shines through. And the movie is filled with references to "Sholay".
I can't live without "Sholay". I grew up on that film.
If I ever copy "Sholay", I'll declare it from the rooftops. Actually my two heroes Rishi,
played by Rahul Bose, and Deep, played by Sanjay Suri, are inspired by Veeru and Jai
in "Sholay".

The cast of "Jhankar Beats" is dead-on.

As a newcomer and I gravitated towards making my first film with new faces. But then my producer Pritish Nandy gave me a decent budget. That's when I could bring in Rahul,
Sanjay, Juhi Chawla etc. And they're perfect!
Rahul, for instance was doing intense roles before "Jhankar Beats". To cast him as this
don't-care-a-damn dude was a stroke of luck. And Sanjay Suri is the dark horse of the
film. It takes a lot of guts for an actor to let someone else walk away with a scene. Sanjay does that.

What does "Jhankar Beats" target?

Unfortunately, the urban audience alone. And I'm very sorry for that.
When I wrote "Jhankar Beats" in English and Hindi I wanted to reflect the language of
urban young people like me. While Rahul and Rinke Khanna speak mostly in English,
Sanjay Suri and Juhi Chawla speak in Hindi.
That's how I saw them. But my next film will be completely in Hindi, I promise you.
I want to reach out to the man in Bhagalpur and Akola .

You love "Sholay". But "Jhankar Beats" takes us far away from that kind of cinema.

I'd love to do escapist cinema. People like us who make realistic cinema think it's easy to make a film like Manmohan Desai's "Amar Akbar Anthony". But let one of us go out there
and make it.

For me one of the most moving moments in cinema was when Amitabh Bachchan, Vinod Khanna and Rishi Kapoor gave blood to Nirupa Roy. Manmohan Desai could actually make
us believe this! If my next film is a subject called 'Home Delivery', it will be escapist.

However, if I make 'Borivili Express' with Amitabh Bachchan and Naseeruddin Shah, then
I'd have to adopt a more realistic tone. Bhagalpur and Akola will have to wait!