Character Spotlight: Gulab(ji) from Sanjay Leela Bhansali's Saawariya
If you're reading this blog, you most probably follow me on twitter. If you follow me on twitter, you most certainly know that I am a die-hard Rani Mukerji fan. If we've interacted on twitter you have a good chance of knowing that I love her character Gulab from Sanjay Leela Bhansali's unnecessarily despised film Saawariya. After revisiting Saawariya, I wanted to write about the film. But problem is, my love for Gulab-ji will take a precedence if & when I write about it. Earlier when I wrote about A Death in the Gunj, speaking about Shutu sufficed (or so I'd like to think) because he was the heart and soul of the film. The same cannot be said about Gulab-ji, so I decided to dedicate a piece solely to her. So readers, fasten your seatbelts, because the fan boy in me is about to take a flight.
I have not read Fyodor Dostoevsky's White Nights on which Saawariya is based, neither have I watched the other Hindi films based on the same story (Ahista Ahista, Chhalia). I am assuming Writer Prakash Kapadia & director Sanjay Leela Bhansali had to make certain adjustments in the script if they had to adapt a story about a young couple meeting in four consecutive nights set anywhere in India. But that must have been at odds with the director's intention of delivering a visual treat. That is most probably why they decided to tell the story in the land of imagination. The film, thus starts with Gulab-ji telling us that nowhere in the map of world will we find such a place that we are about to see.
As a character though, Gulab doesn't make much of a ripple in the actual storyline. Sure, she pops up every now & then and departs with words of wisdom. Her few attempts at uniting the couple didn't matter much and in a particular event even backfired. After reading the brilliantly insightful Pankaj Sachdeva's piece on Saawariya (link here) after my recent rewatch of the film & its 'Making of' videos though, a different aspect of Gulab-ji's presence struck me. Pankaj writes, "This is a dreamland or as Gulaabji says, khwaabon ka sheher. Perhaps that is why there is not even a speck of sunlight in the film. It is as if someone is sleeping and dreaming this world." Then in a making of video (link), Rani says that while narrating the role to her, Bhansali told her that Gulab is the sunshine in the film. This fits perfectly, because the film has only one daytime indoor scene. Other than that all the scenes are set in the night-time. It only makes sense to have one dazzling presence in the film that bursts the screen with color, laughter & charm. Convenient also to have her play a prostitute, who knows more about the city's nocturnal secrets than anyone else. On a surface level the changing colors of Gulab-ji's sarees indicate the passing of the four nights.
The fact that Gulab isn't an integral part of the main storyline doesn't make her less fascinating as a character. She isn't someone fallen into prostitution, but rather born into it. She maintains a hard exterior for the world. It seems that she lives by the words another of my favorite characters, Tyrion Lannister from Game of Thrones: "Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you." Gulab never forgets she is a prostitute. When she meets Raj for the second time, she offers to sleep with him. This, I see as her testing Raj. Of course, had he taken up the offer their relationship would have been something else altogether. But making the offer first, she tries to get her profession out of their personal equation if there was to be any. Then in a scene with Sakina she says "Gulabji ki naam nehi daam poocha karte hain", again owning her profession & putting it across bluntly to throw the other party off balance. In her final scene where Raj seemed intent to start a romantic, or rather physical relation with her, Gulab says, "Kagaz ke phoolon se kabhi ittar bante dekha hai?" She just knows her place in the world all too well to entertain any notion that Raj might be even remotely interested in her romantically.
But just because a person has come to accept the unfortunate situation s/he is in, doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt anymore. We see Gulab's eyes well up as she hears a kid of a prostitute crying. The wailing reminds her of the time when she used to cry all night waiting for an angel to come & save her. There is a fraction of a moment at the end of the song Chhabeela where Raj kisses her hand & goes off. Only when he turns his back on him do we get an inkling of what that little gesture meant to her & how deeply she feels for him. Her tears though are not for the world to see. Whenever her eyes moistens she laughs twice as hard as usual to fight back the tears. In her final scene, where she drives Raj away for good we see a tear finally drop, but not before she's hid herself from Raj's view.
If there is one role Gulab plays in the storyline, it is to salvage Raj's innocence & his ability to love. Someone who's seen the ugliness of the world as closely as she must have seen, Gulab is skeptic from the start about the prospect of a happy ending for Raj & Sakina. Very early in the film when Raj threatens to resign as RK bar's lead singer, she warns, "Yeh mohabbat ki raah hai, zaara soch samajh ke kadam rakhna" and then adds as an afterthought "Kisi se itni bhi mohabbat na karna, ki ekdin khud se hi nafrat ho jaye". When she sees Raj burning Sakina's letter to Iman, she worries that Raj's love for Sakina might eventually corrupt his soul. She pleads to Raj to go up to Sakina, confess the sin he's committed along with his love for her. In her final scene too, she throws Raj from her abode. This is because he'd disrespected the friendship between them by treating her as a prostitute and not as a friend. But there is another angle to it. When asked why she threw him out when she loved him so, she replies that if she didn't he would ruin the rest of his life in brothels. By pushing him aside, Gulab makes her last attempt at saving Raj from self-destruction.
Now you can call me shallow, but I think costume plays a very important role in establishing a character in films. Yes, a character must dress in accordance with her background. The costumes can sometimes lend a backstory that is not written in the script. On another level, characters with distinctive styling just has better chances of being memorable. Look at Shabana Azmi's brothel madame Rukmini Bai from Mandi or the very recent Carol Aird played by Cate Blanchett. These characters had signature looks which plant them firmly in our memories. Director Sanjay Leela Bhansali is known to take care of every minuscule aspect of the films that he makes. It is a given that he knew very well how he wanted Gulab to look. Joining hands with him was costume designer Anuradha Vakil who was responsible for designing Gulab's costumes. She says in an interview (link), "Rani plays a street woman in the movie and thus her clothes were to be made gaudy. But I chose to move away from it. Why can't a prostitute be artistically inclined?" Rani herself is known to have her say in every aspect of the characters that she plays since she really came into her in the early 2000s and the designer confirms it, saying "Rani was one helluva actress. She wouldn't mince her words. If there's a look she doesn't appreciate, she'd be straight forward about it. Of course, she is appreciative of the detailing too". Now add a retro styling & a bunch of roses behind the ears and voilà, you get one of Rani's most iconic looks in her career! And that is no mean feat when you take a look at the actress's filmography. Credit must also be given to cinematographer Ravi K. Chandran who's captured Rani like no one else has to this day in films like Black, Paheli & of course Saawariya. Rani acknowledges their special collaboration while talking about their work together in Paheli: "I believe one particular cinematographer always makes a difference to a film actress's career. Sridevi had W B Rao, Madhuri Dixit had Baba Azmi. For me it's Ravi K Chandran all the way."(link)
Saawariya also has Rani grooving to one of my most favorite numbers of her, Chhabeela. I have already watched the song countless time and will continue to do so with full knowledge that it will never tire me. The choreography combines the actress's ability to shift through a thousand (legible) expressions in a minute with her impeccable dancing skills. The song composed by Monty Sharma is markedly different from the other tracks in this exceptional soundtrack. It is not something you may want to hear on its own because you get the complete experience only when you combine the visuals. Alka Yagnik is remarkable as always as she adds her own nuances through her vocals.
Last but not the least, the performance. I don't think I need to describe Rani Mukerji's superlative talent. She's worked with some of the best filmmakers of her time and some not quite so maintaining her quality of work in both cases. But whenever a Yash Chopra, a Mani Ratnam or a Sanjay Bhansali cast her it was not to portray one of their luminescent heroines but rather to portray characters like Saamiya or Shashi or Michelle, characters for which they needed a solid actress. Here finally, even though not cast as the dreamlike heroine Rani could inhabit SLB's world in all its grandeur and the actress is visibly ecstatic. She amps up her star charm like she very rarely does and add colors, both literally & figuratively to the otherwise subdued surroundings. Her scene with the grumpy landlady Lilian played by the inimitable Zohra Sehgal is one of my most favorite scenes ever. It's to revel in the magic of scenes like this that I watch cinema.
I have not read Fyodor Dostoevsky's White Nights on which Saawariya is based, neither have I watched the other Hindi films based on the same story (Ahista Ahista, Chhalia). I am assuming Writer Prakash Kapadia & director Sanjay Leela Bhansali had to make certain adjustments in the script if they had to adapt a story about a young couple meeting in four consecutive nights set anywhere in India. But that must have been at odds with the director's intention of delivering a visual treat. That is most probably why they decided to tell the story in the land of imagination. The film, thus starts with Gulab-ji telling us that nowhere in the map of world will we find such a place that we are about to see.
As a character though, Gulab doesn't make much of a ripple in the actual storyline. Sure, she pops up every now & then and departs with words of wisdom. Her few attempts at uniting the couple didn't matter much and in a particular event even backfired. After reading the brilliantly insightful Pankaj Sachdeva's piece on Saawariya (link here) after my recent rewatch of the film & its 'Making of' videos though, a different aspect of Gulab-ji's presence struck me. Pankaj writes, "This is a dreamland or as Gulaabji says, khwaabon ka sheher. Perhaps that is why there is not even a speck of sunlight in the film. It is as if someone is sleeping and dreaming this world." Then in a making of video (link), Rani says that while narrating the role to her, Bhansali told her that Gulab is the sunshine in the film. This fits perfectly, because the film has only one daytime indoor scene. Other than that all the scenes are set in the night-time. It only makes sense to have one dazzling presence in the film that bursts the screen with color, laughter & charm. Convenient also to have her play a prostitute, who knows more about the city's nocturnal secrets than anyone else. On a surface level the changing colors of Gulab-ji's sarees indicate the passing of the four nights.
The fact that Gulab isn't an integral part of the main storyline doesn't make her less fascinating as a character. She isn't someone fallen into prostitution, but rather born into it. She maintains a hard exterior for the world. It seems that she lives by the words another of my favorite characters, Tyrion Lannister from Game of Thrones: "Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you." Gulab never forgets she is a prostitute. When she meets Raj for the second time, she offers to sleep with him. This, I see as her testing Raj. Of course, had he taken up the offer their relationship would have been something else altogether. But making the offer first, she tries to get her profession out of their personal equation if there was to be any. Then in a scene with Sakina she says "Gulabji ki naam nehi daam poocha karte hain", again owning her profession & putting it across bluntly to throw the other party off balance. In her final scene where Raj seemed intent to start a romantic, or rather physical relation with her, Gulab says, "Kagaz ke phoolon se kabhi ittar bante dekha hai?" She just knows her place in the world all too well to entertain any notion that Raj might be even remotely interested in her romantically.
But just because a person has come to accept the unfortunate situation s/he is in, doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt anymore. We see Gulab's eyes well up as she hears a kid of a prostitute crying. The wailing reminds her of the time when she used to cry all night waiting for an angel to come & save her. There is a fraction of a moment at the end of the song Chhabeela where Raj kisses her hand & goes off. Only when he turns his back on him do we get an inkling of what that little gesture meant to her & how deeply she feels for him. Her tears though are not for the world to see. Whenever her eyes moistens she laughs twice as hard as usual to fight back the tears. In her final scene, where she drives Raj away for good we see a tear finally drop, but not before she's hid herself from Raj's view.
If there is one role Gulab plays in the storyline, it is to salvage Raj's innocence & his ability to love. Someone who's seen the ugliness of the world as closely as she must have seen, Gulab is skeptic from the start about the prospect of a happy ending for Raj & Sakina. Very early in the film when Raj threatens to resign as RK bar's lead singer, she warns, "Yeh mohabbat ki raah hai, zaara soch samajh ke kadam rakhna" and then adds as an afterthought "Kisi se itni bhi mohabbat na karna, ki ekdin khud se hi nafrat ho jaye". When she sees Raj burning Sakina's letter to Iman, she worries that Raj's love for Sakina might eventually corrupt his soul. She pleads to Raj to go up to Sakina, confess the sin he's committed along with his love for her. In her final scene too, she throws Raj from her abode. This is because he'd disrespected the friendship between them by treating her as a prostitute and not as a friend. But there is another angle to it. When asked why she threw him out when she loved him so, she replies that if she didn't he would ruin the rest of his life in brothels. By pushing him aside, Gulab makes her last attempt at saving Raj from self-destruction.
Now you can call me shallow, but I think costume plays a very important role in establishing a character in films. Yes, a character must dress in accordance with her background. The costumes can sometimes lend a backstory that is not written in the script. On another level, characters with distinctive styling just has better chances of being memorable. Look at Shabana Azmi's brothel madame Rukmini Bai from Mandi or the very recent Carol Aird played by Cate Blanchett. These characters had signature looks which plant them firmly in our memories. Director Sanjay Leela Bhansali is known to take care of every minuscule aspect of the films that he makes. It is a given that he knew very well how he wanted Gulab to look. Joining hands with him was costume designer Anuradha Vakil who was responsible for designing Gulab's costumes. She says in an interview (link), "Rani plays a street woman in the movie and thus her clothes were to be made gaudy. But I chose to move away from it. Why can't a prostitute be artistically inclined?" Rani herself is known to have her say in every aspect of the characters that she plays since she really came into her in the early 2000s and the designer confirms it, saying "Rani was one helluva actress. She wouldn't mince her words. If there's a look she doesn't appreciate, she'd be straight forward about it. Of course, she is appreciative of the detailing too". Now add a retro styling & a bunch of roses behind the ears and voilà, you get one of Rani's most iconic looks in her career! And that is no mean feat when you take a look at the actress's filmography. Credit must also be given to cinematographer Ravi K. Chandran who's captured Rani like no one else has to this day in films like Black, Paheli & of course Saawariya. Rani acknowledges their special collaboration while talking about their work together in Paheli: "I believe one particular cinematographer always makes a difference to a film actress's career. Sridevi had W B Rao, Madhuri Dixit had Baba Azmi. For me it's Ravi K Chandran all the way."(link)
Saawariya also has Rani grooving to one of my most favorite numbers of her, Chhabeela. I have already watched the song countless time and will continue to do so with full knowledge that it will never tire me. The choreography combines the actress's ability to shift through a thousand (legible) expressions in a minute with her impeccable dancing skills. The song composed by Monty Sharma is markedly different from the other tracks in this exceptional soundtrack. It is not something you may want to hear on its own because you get the complete experience only when you combine the visuals. Alka Yagnik is remarkable as always as she adds her own nuances through her vocals.
Last but not the least, the performance. I don't think I need to describe Rani Mukerji's superlative talent. She's worked with some of the best filmmakers of her time and some not quite so maintaining her quality of work in both cases. But whenever a Yash Chopra, a Mani Ratnam or a Sanjay Bhansali cast her it was not to portray one of their luminescent heroines but rather to portray characters like Saamiya or Shashi or Michelle, characters for which they needed a solid actress. Here finally, even though not cast as the dreamlike heroine Rani could inhabit SLB's world in all its grandeur and the actress is visibly ecstatic. She amps up her star charm like she very rarely does and add colors, both literally & figuratively to the otherwise subdued surroundings. Her scene with the grumpy landlady Lilian played by the inimitable Zohra Sehgal is one of my most favorite scenes ever. It's to revel in the magic of scenes like this that I watch cinema.
Comments
Post a Comment