Directed by: Raj Kapoor
Starring: Shashi Kapoor, Zeenat Aman
Released: 1978
My rating: destroy
every copy – horrible – bad –
whatever – flawed but enjoyable - good – great –
amazing
I guess every director has a bad movie
or two (or all, righ, Mr. Bazmi?) and Raj Kapoor is no different. Or
perhaps Satyam Shivam Sundaram is not „bad“ per se, but the story
is just so prepostrous and Shashi Kapoor such an asshole in it, that
I cannot help but hate it. And mind you, I am among Raj Kapoor´s
most ardent fans. And Shashi Kapoor´s. Which makes it even harder to
forgive.
The story is that of a young girl
Roopa, whose mother had died while giving birth to her, and who,
because of an accident from childhood, has the right part of her face
and neck covered in ugly scars. Considered „cursed“ by one and
all in her village, Roopa still remains a good soul with great trust
in God. Her love for the Creator is only matched by her love for a
handsome young engineer (Shashi), who arrives to the village to
supervise building and reparations of a nearby dam. He falls in love
with her too. Or rather – her voice. Because that is the problem
you see: he has never seen her face, which she carefully hides
whenever they meet. And she is all too careful never to show herself
to him, since he cannot tolerate any ugliness. He doesn´t dislike
it, neither he is „not comfortable“ with it – he cannot
tolerate it, not even his own reflection in a joking mirror at a fair
(seriously, dude?) When a bit later in the film Roopa asks him if he
would love her still should she not be beautiful, he completely
avoids answering by stating some shit about „not possible you have
to be sundar cause you sing so well.“
Ultimately he marries Roopa, and only
after marriages sees her face. He is horrified and convinced she is
not his beloved. And so poor Roopa chooses to serve his selfishness
and in disguise keeps meeting him outside their home, instilling the
twisted belief there are two women instead of one even further.
(yeah, that would totally work in her favour. Geez girl, have some
self-respect!) The whole thing with a covered face may have worked a
lot better if it actually remained covered throughout. However the
character of Shashi sees almost all of Roopa´s face, more than once,
and so his argument about „I´ve never seen it“ makes no sense at
all. Further more he never questions the girl as to why won´t she
show herself to him. And finally, in the end he recognizes her by her
voice. And me, already fed up with all the nonsense and Shashi´s
asshole ways, couldn´t understand for the life of me why she just
didn´t sing to him an hour ago, which would have saved her loads of
humiliation and me thousands of brain cells.
 |
| He sees THIS much of her face. |
 |
| And THIS much. |
 |
| And how much more do you need to see???? WTF man??? |
It is, indeed, the story which makes
the whole film an unpleasant experience. One cannot protest about the
production values, because they are (for the time the film was made
in) excellent. From colour play of the early morning in the temple to
a bit psychadelic fantasy song, the camera presents everything
beautifully. The music is actually a highlight, and till now I have
goosebumps listening to Lata Mangeshkar´s voice in the title song.
Performances are fairly good (aside from Zeenat´s emotional scenes
which reveal her limitations as an actress), unfortunatelly 90% of
the characters are unlikeable. I have never imagined it was possible
for me to dislike Shashi Kapoor in any avatar, but his own brother
made it possible. To see little Padmini Kolhapure in Roopa´s
chidhood avatar was a sweet surprise for me and she did very well,
especially considering how awful most of Hindi cinema child artists
are.
Semi-nudity in Raj Kapoor films somehow
never bothered me (be it Simi Garewal´s butt in Mera Naam Joker,
Mandakini´s breasts in Ram Teri Ganga Maili or Roopa´s overal
semi-nudeness in this), even though I realize what effect it must
have had on certain parts of the audience. I suppose that what makes
the marginal difference lies in how the people on screen react to
Roopa. She chooses to wear the clothes she wants, and others around
her are unconcerned. They would have treated her the same (awfully or
well) had she been fully covered from head to toe. Roopa is also
obviously at peace with her body, so why should I be concerned? It is
not like she is selling herself at the market. She bathes. She
changes clothes. She walks the fields under a blazing sun. Now, if
people off-screen see her only as a titillating sexual objects
because of the clothes (or rather lack of it), it is above all
because they have a filthy mind.
Satyam Shivam Sundaram is definitely,
so far, the weakest Raj Kapoor film I have seen.
