Opinion Guru Dutt at 100: The filmmaker, the man and the myth

The ephemeral nature of fame was a theme that Dutt carried into his next film as well. In Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959), the actor-filmmaker played director Suresh Sinha. Once a star in his own right, Sinha falls out of favour with his producer boss after a spate of unsuccessful films, owing to his unravelling personal life. Here too, like in Pyaasa, Dutt’s character prefers to resign himself to a life of oblivion rather than compromising his artistic freedom. “Matlab ki duniya hai saari, bichhdey sabhi baari baari” croons Mohammed Rafi, mourning how easily people forget a man whose fortunes are in freefall.

Born on this day a century ago, Dutt left a body of work that made an indelible mark on our cinema and national consciousness. As author and documentary filmmaker Nasreen Munni Kabir noted in the preface of her seminal book, Guru Dutt: A Life in Cinema, “As an American academic commented after seeing Pyaasa, if Guru Dutt’s work had been better known internationally in his own lifetime, he would have been ranked alongside the likes of Douglas Sirk and Billy Wilder.”

In the same preface, Kabir also remarked, “It is interesting to note that in his own films, Guru Dutt speaks suggestively of the posthumous fame of the creative artist who is only truly valued after he has died.”

It was Guru Dutt’s social commentary that assured his films a place in cinema history. Pyaasa and Kaagaz Ke Phool held up a mirror to a nation coming to terms with its newfound independence. The films raised uncomfortable questions about human avarice, increasing materialism and the short-lived nature of success.

Dutt’s preoccupations were evident even in the supposedly lighthearted Mr & Mrs 55 (1955). A quick exchange between his character, Preetam, and Seeta Devi (Lalita Pawar) highlights the plight of millions of pavement dwellers for whom home did not even mean a roof over their head. “Tum communist ho? (Are you a communist?),” an irate Seeta Devi asks, to which Preetam replies, “Ji nahin, cartoonist” (No, just a cartoonist).

Consider also the song sequence, “Jinhe naaz hai Hind par” in Pyaasa. The song was an adaptation of noted Urdu poet and songwriter Sahir Ludhianvi’s poem, Chakley, meaning “brothels”. As Vijay makes his way through a red-light area, the song unfolds in Rafi’s voice, imploring the nation to pay attention to the plight of these exploited women. It is no surprise that Pyaasa finds a place in Time magazine’s 100 greatest films of all time.

Beyond the politics of his films, Guru Dutt championed a certain fragile masculinity that has since gone out of fashion in our cinema and society. His characters weren’t afraid to weep and wallow in self-pity. This could be said of Dilip Kumar, too, who courted a definitive tragic persona as espoused by his characters in Devdas (1955), Madhumati (1958) and Mughal-e-Azam (1960). But Kumar could be self-confident in some of his other notable films, such as Aan (1952), Naya Daur (1957), Gunga Jumna (1961) and Ram Aur Shyam (1967).

In the films he is best remembered for, Guru Dutt withdrew to a more philosophical place when the tide turned against him. His cinematic gems underscored the necessity to pause and reflect. His protagonists — cartoonist, poet, filmmaker — advocated a higher intellectualism, something that any civilisation needs, no matter the era. In contemporary times, when there is so much chest-thumping, perhaps there is an urgent need to revisit Dutt’s films. Even today, the fine songs in these films can provide cathartic release in moments of despair.

To Guru Dutt also goes the credit of shaping several film careers, both before and behind the camera. Writer Abrar Alvi, who worked with Dutt beginning with Aar Paar (1954) until the latter’s last film, changed the theatrical manner of dialogue delivery in Hindi cinema to a more conversational style. The composer-songwriter duo of S D Burman-Ludhianvi got a firm foothold in the industry thanks to their early work in Baazi (1951) and Jaal (1952) before hitting their peak in Pyaasa. Dutt forged a similar successful collaboration with music director O P Nayyar and lyricist Majrooh Sultanpuri who worked on successive hits — Aar Paar, Mr & Mrs 55, CID (1956) — with Dutt. CID saw Dutt hand the directorial baton to Raj Khosla, his assistant director on films like Baazi and Aar Paar. Following its success, Khosla would go on to become one of the most successful directors of mainstream Hindi cinema in the 1960s and 1970s.

Highlighting the noir-ish and poignant mood of many of Guru Dutt’s films was ace cinematographer V K Murthy. Starting his career as an assistant cameraman on Baazi, Murthy flourished under Dutt’s patronage. His high-contrast lighting style in Pyaasa, Kaagaz Ke Phool and Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962) enhanced the frailties and dilemmas of the characters.

Dev Anand, one of the dominant trio of male actors of the 1950s alongside Dilip Kumar and Raj Kapoor, also benefited from his partnership with Dutt. But Dutt’s biggest gift to the film industry was the actor Waheeda Rehman. In bringing the teenage Rehman from Telugu cinema to face the shining arc lights in CID, Dutt unearthed a rare gem. The relationship between actor and filmmaker, very much like the story between Suresh Sinha and Shanti (Rehman) in Kaagaz Ke Phool, is also speculated to have enhanced the turmoil in Dutt’s personal life. Dutt allegedly ended his life in October 1964.

This mix of classic films, an untimely death, and the blurring of lines between his personal life and cinematic work is what makes the Guru Dutt story so captivating. It gives a mythical quality to a man whose fragility, both on screen and in real life, was all too real.

Manwani is the author of Sahir Ludhianvi: The People’s Poet and Music, Masti, Modernity: The Cinema of Nasir Husain