Pakeezah (1972)

पाकीज़ा

The noble courtesan is a very common incarnation of downtrodden yet elevated womanhood of the sort I discussed in connection with the film Amar Prem.  Rekha's Umrao Jaan is a canonical example of this kind of character, but a decade earlier there was Pakeezah.  Pakeezah means "pure" or "chaste," and thus the film's very title evokes the concept of unsullied womanhood despite the most debasing circumstances.

Shahabuddin (Ashok Kumar) marries Nargis, a courtesan he loves, in an attempt to save her from the tawaif's life.  When his family rejects her, though, she runs off and dies in a cemetery, but not before giving birth to a daughter.  The infant is taken by Nargis's sister and also raised in a brothel, growing up to become the famous tawaif Saheb Jaan.  When Shahabuddin learns many years later that he has a daughter, he tries to save her too, but her aunt - not wanting to lose such a lucrative member of her household - ships her off to another brothel, to become the exclusive entertainment of an aging nawab.  On the rail journey to her new home, the sleeping Saheb is spotted by a mysterious traveler (Raj Kumar) who leaves her a tender note.  She clutches the note close to her heart, and harbors a romantic fantasy that the traveler will come for her.  When circumstances finally do reunite them, he commits himself to saving her, and Saheb must decide whether she wants to be saved.

Some things about Pakeezah are very, very beautiful.  Some of the shots are just lovely - a sky full of spectacular color, a sweeping landscape, Meena Kumari languishing with her hair floating in a fountain.  And its soundtrack sparkles, both the beautiful songs and Meena's sensuous mujras.  (I never tire of well-done courtesan songs.)  The film is excessively romantic, but this does not detract; rather, it contributes to a sense of otherworldliness that the colorful sets and languid, dreamy tone that the film creates. 

All of the positives notwithstanding, the story is a little bit frustrating.  Saheb Jaan seems to be the anti-Umrao Jaan; as much as Umrao was determined to get out of the tawaif's life, Saheb never really believes herself worthy of anything else.  The result is that overarching tone of the film is depressing and hopeless.  Saheb never does anything to help herself, and she never develops any inner strength - she isn't saved except when men save her.  She has a famous dance on glass, but even this comes across as self-flagellation and punishment, not a display of strength and resolve (as was Hema Malini's dance on glass in Sholay).  Saheb Jaan is a character made up of sadness and poor self-esteem, and Pakeezah offers her no arc away from that depressing place.

Comments

[Amit]

I don't remember much about Pakeezah (saw it a long time ago), but the movie was a super-hit. The songs have beautiful lyrics (Kaifi Azmi) and some of the classic dialogs by Raaj Kumar are repeated even today. One thing I really like about older Bollywood movies is that the lyrics are beautiful and meaningful (unlike most of current movies), and have stood the test of time.

If you are looking for some movie suggestions for reviewing/blogging, here are some good ones: Hum Kisise Kum Nahin (old, RD Burman music, I think you'll like it), Ardh-Satya, Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron.

Cheers,
-Amit

[carla]

Thanks Amitji. I did not mention that the lyrics in *Pakeezah* were Kaifi sahib's because I wanted to preserve the illusion that I do watch at least some films that have no connection to Shabana Azmi or to some member of her family. :-) I appreciate your suggestions as well - *Hum kisise kum nahin* I have heard of but know nothing about (except the song "Bachna ae haseeno"); *Jaane bhi do yaaro* is in my stack of DVDs waiting to be viewed; I have not heard of *Ardh-satya* and will have to go find out about it.

[Beth]

Oh, I hate, hate, hate stories (real or fictional) about men wanting to save women or women wanting to be saved by men. Bleh. You'll have to fill me in on whether she decides she wants to be saved - that was an interesting point.

[carla]

To tell you the truth, Beth, I'm not sure what she decided. At the end of the film I knew whether she had been saved but not whether she wanted to be. At any rate I agree with you about the whole women-being-saved motif, and it's the main reason I couldn't love *Pakeezah* despite all of its loveliness and style. I'm sure I'll watch the songs again and again, though.

[Szerelem]

Hi Carla...

Got her via Rsowitha's page. Commenting on this particular because I just wrote about Pakeezah before coming across your blog! Your site is great - I have been browsing about a bit and your take on some of my favourite movies is wonderful :)

[Josh]

i think your comparison of sahib jaan with umrao j is interesting, but my thinking is different as i have seen the new umrao j with aish, but not the old one with rekha as it is unavailable here. in the new one, umrao vacillates much like sahib, craving the decency of the respectable life that a kind nawab could provide her by taking her out of the tawaif world while questioning her own value as a human being. in fact, in the new umrao there are many lines that seem to be drawn directly from pakeezah, namely those to the effect of tawaifs being corpses. i really do need to see the old one, hai na?

[sulagana]

lovely reviews, but u missed a vital point. the traveller in his note tells the courtesan that he glimpsed her feet and found them beautiful, and that she should never sully them by putting them on the ground. for a courtesan who is forever sullying her feet by dancing on the ground, the note became symbolic of a hope too big to come to terms with.

[carla]

Sulagana, thanks for that comment. That's an extremely astute and lovely point.

Josh (sorry, very late to reply here) - you certainly do need to see the old UJ as it is in some subtle ways a much fiercer and more interesting film than the remake!

thanks to all for the comments.