(1954,
Hindi, 144 minutes)
Directed by Mehboob
Story: S. Ali Raza, Mehrish, S. K. Kalla, B. S. Ramiah; Dialogs: Agha Jani Kashmiri,
S. Ali Raza; Lyrics: Shakeel Badayuni; Music: Naushad; Choreography: Sita Devi;
Cinematography: Faredoon A. Irani; Art Direction: V. H. Palnitkar; Sets: D.
R. Jadhav
In a plot that bears more than a passing resemblance to that of BABUL (1950),
Dilip Kumar plays Amar, a rich and successful young lawyer who is known for
his high ideals and willingness to assist local villagers, especially in their
dealings with Sankat (literally, “affliction,” a local landlord and
bully, played by Jayant). Sonia (Nimmi) is an innocent and vivacious village
girl who talks to animals and birds and dances unselfconsciously by babbling
streams—in short, the Shakuntala type (and the role played by Nargis in
BABUL). She falls for Amar one day when her dupatta blows off and lands
on his head, leading to a teasing exchange. But when the lawyer sustains a cut
finger, Sonia spontaneously rips her threadbare scarf to bandage it—a motif
that invokes a famous Mahabharata tale in which Draupadi does the same
for Krishna, thus putting him in her debt. Indeed, Amar’s little flesh
wound, and the possibility that it will “infect” him further, dominates
the ensuing dialog back at his law office. And well it might, for although Amar
soon becomes betrothed to, and falls in love with, the sophisticated Anju (Madhubala),
the daughter of a local zamindar and his own father’s choice for him, and
although Sonia is likewise engaged, by her scheming stepmother, to the dreaded
Sankat, Amar’s prior link with the village girl refuses to go away. And
one Dark and Stormy Night, when the dripping wet Sonia takes shelter in Amar’s
mansion while fleeing the wrath of Sankat, the young lawyer loses control of
himself.
Such little cross-class indiscretions, when elite men take advantage of rustic
and especially low-caste girls, are known to be routine enough in rural areas,
and generally hushed up with money or intimidation. What’s different here
is that Amar is a man of both principle and cowardice—a combination that
might strike some viewers as odd in a “hero” (the Encyclopaedia of
Indian Cinema observes that the film was not a commercial hit, "possibly
because the audience refused to accept Dilip Kumar in a negative role")—who
suffers crushing guilt yet cannot bring himself to openly confess his indiscretion.
One may assume that he is constrained by social circumstance: by the impossible
class gulf that divides him from Sonia, and by the fact that an admission of
guilt would wreck his reputation, his career, and his hopes of marrying his
beloved Anju. For her part, Sonia bears his secret (and, it soon turns out,
his child) with a slightly-loopy stoicism and puppy-like loyalty. Both Anju
and Sankat gradually begin to suspect that something is amiss, and Amar repeatedly
comes close to fessing up, especially when dragged to the local Krishna temple
by Anju, who is herself an idealist and champion of the downtrodden, where a
bhajan informs him that “This is the temple of justice, the house
of God; say what you have to say—what is there to fear?” But many
plot turns, each accompanied by a memorable Naushad song (nine in all, and entirely
sung by the female characters), precede the final revelation.
The cinematography is notable for its use of light and shadow, ingenious framing,
Mehboob’s trademark sunset silhouettes, and frequent and lingering closeups
of the principals’ tormented faces. Ornate, surreal sets (typical of this
period) are likewise used to good effect. Like BABUL, this is an operatic “he
done her wrong” fantasy that delights in heavyhanded symbolism (shattered
windows, torn dupattas, flickering lamps) and mythological allusions: the opening
reference to Draupadi is renewed during Sonia’s climactic humiliation by
angry villagers, when (like the Pandava heroine being disrobed in the Kauravas’
gambling hall) she calls on Krishna for help, and her plea reaches her own “immortal,”
Amar.
[The Eros/B4U DVD of AMAR features a generally excellent quality print of the
film. Subtitles are also unusually accurate, but are unfortunately missing for
the many songs.]