Sabita Bhamidipati's Dances and the film Saptapadi (1981, Telugu)

Just like Malavika featured in my previous post about the the film Ananda Bhairavi, Sabita Bhamidipati was also a film-classical-dance-one-hit-wonder.  Her only film was K. Vishwanath's 1981 feature, Saptapadi, which TeluguOne has uploaded in full on their YouTube channel (starting with Part 1 here)- yay!  Do note that they have also inexplicably uploaded the whole thing in better video quality BUT the video is stretched so everyone looks short and fat!

About the Film

Saptapadi won the 1982 Indian National Award for “Best Feature Film on National Integration” for “focusing on the problems of society whose orthodoxy inflicts grave injustice on the underprivileged, for the dilemma faced by a brahmin disciplinarian in confronting his grand-daughter’s love for a Harijan, [and] for resolving the problem in a rational manner, worthy of the country’s best secular traditions."  It sounds like quite a serious film from that description! But it’s actually what I would consider a sweet film with a serious message.

Saptapadi essentially tells the story of a Kuchipudi dancer Hema (Sabitha Bhamidipathi) who is the granddaughter of the feared and orthodox Brahmin priest Yajulu (JV Somayajulu) of the local Hindu temple. Impressed by Hema’s dancing, the priest fixes her marriage with a man named Gowrinath (Ravikanth). But Hema is in love with another man, Hari (Girish), who is the flute player accompanying her performances and whom she soon is astonished to learn is a “Harijan” low-caste untouchable! Since intercaste marriage is unacceptable, she dutifully enters into marriage with Gowrinath. On the wedding night her husband envisions (hallucinates?) that she is a Hindu goddess and he worships her instead of consummating the marriage. This continues for some time, much to the disappointment of Hema. She often fondly recalls her romance with Hari, and her pent up frustrations find expression in a thrilling tandav dance! Yajulu comes to know of Gowrinath's visions and Hema's true love (a plot point which I'm not clear on due to, once again, the lack of English subtitles). It appears the visions are seen as an "act of God" that spurs Yajulu to reconsider his orthodox positions.  Near the end of the film, the priest and Hema’s husband have a change of heart and actually bring Hema and her true love Hari together to be wed--of course not until after Yajulu gives some long speeches (presumably scriptural/spiritual discussions about caste) to the shocked local community  Some commenters over at Idlebrain and Telugufilms have said that the film essentially examines the orthodoxy and true purpose of the caste system and shows through Yajulu’s character the transformation of a person transitioning from judging someone based on caste to learning to see the true nature of the person’s heart.

Classical Dances from the film Sringaram (Tamil, 2007)

While I featured one song (the exquisite Bharatanatyam Padam piece) from the Tamil film Sringaram in my "Practice Scenes" post a while back, I feel it is high time I feature all of the dance songs from this wonderful film.  I was rewatching all the dances this week and was reminded of how strikingly exceptional they are compared to the vast majority of classical-based film dances (especially of recent years).  I had initially only posted one song from the film in the hopes that it would be released on DVD soon, but it appears that will probably never happen.

About the Film

Sringaram, a Tamil film directed by Sharada Ramanathan, was made in 2005 (and received National Film Awards for that year) but was not theatrically/publically released until 2007.  The film is a period piece about devadasi dancers and focuses on two dancers in particular, Madhura (Aditi Rao Hydari) and Kama (Hamsa Moily), and their struggles with their positions and desires (and feminist ideas!).  Manju Bhargavi also plays a role in the film and dances in a number.  I wrote a long, screencap-filled review of the film here.

What is most striking about the film is its artistry; there are no filmi determents or commercial distractions, and as the film ends you find yourself questioning your understanding of its reality and pondering its characters as metaphors.  The art direction, visuals, lighting, and costumes greatly enhance the beauty and charisma of the period atmosphere. 

The Exceptional Dances

These characteristics of the film carry over into the dances which are notable in having a heavy classical influence in visual appearance and a serious tone. What's disappointing is that while most of the dances have all the trappings of a classical number (authentic costumes, jewelry, and settings), the choreography is not as authentic as one would expect. On some of the numbers I get so excited when they begin just by looking at them (especially the ones with the cotton practice-saris), but as the dance plays out I find myself let down.  Costumes have a way of distracting us from the choreography, don't they!

Kamala's Dances in Jwala (Hindi, 1971)

I have found two more Kamala Lakshman film dances! Yay! I happened upon them today completely by accident while searching for videos of Gopi Krishna's choreographies. When I saw a girl who looked suspiciously like Kamala in the Hindi film Jwala, I took a look at the credits and to my surprise "Kamla Laxman" was part of the cast! After browsing through the film, it looks like Kamala dances in the two songs below and has two short scenes where she speaks to the hero.  This is fascinating as I had thought Kamala's dances in Konjum Salangai (Tamil, 1962) were the latest filmwork I would ever get to see of hers, but Jwala was released almost ten years later in 1971!

But...don't get too excited.  This film and its dances are simply terrible!  The colors (Eastman Color?) are horribly washed out and offtone, the costume designer must have been on an acid trip, and the whole thing is one big, gaudy, ugly, kitschy mess!  It's not the kind of thing you would expect Kamala to have participated in.

Shhh... we won't tell anyone!

This is the first time I've been disappointed by Kamala's film dances.  Her dances in Veerakkanal were the first time I'd seen her stray from a classical dance basis and get closer to popular commercial numbers, but the dances were still fairly enjoyable because she brought her special talents to the table.  However, here in Jwala, the choreography, costumes, and sets she's been given would be hard for anyone to overcome.  No hint of classical influence can be found in the movements which is perhaps why she doesn't excel here.  I wonder why she agreed to do these dances... perhaps Gopi Krishna's involvement as one of the choreographers had something to do with her participation and expectations.

Malavika's Dances and the film Ananda Bhairavi (1983, Telugu/Kannada)

Some of my top favorite classical dances in Indian films can be found in the relatively-obscure 1983 film Ananda Bhairavi (made in Telugu and Kannada). I've finally learned enough about the dancers in this film, and the film itself, to give the film some recognition and praise its main dancer, Malavika!

Film Background and Plot

From Cinegoer.com

Ananda Bhairavi is a very low-budget, village-based film about traditional practitioners of the Indian classical dance form Kuchipudi and their personal struggles with tradition in relationships.  It is apparently set in the actual Kuchipudi village in Andhra Pradesh where the dance form originated and got its name. 

Surprisingly, the film is said to have beat Saagara Sangamam (Salangai Oli in dubbed Tamil) for the coveted Golden Nandi Award in the 1983 Telugu state awards.  K. Vishwanath did not direct this film as one might assume; it was actually directed by Jandhyala who was best known for directing Telugu comedy films but had a connection to K. Vishwanath in writing dialogues for many of his dance and culture films (including, amusingly, Saagara Sangamam).  Unfortunately, it seems the film was not a big commercial success and has largely been forgotten, especially when compared to the similar film released that same year, Saagara Sangamam.  I think it was because Ananda Bhairavi just wasn't on the same magical level as its successful peer films about dance that followed in Shankarabharanam's footsteps; the film is also a bit rough around the edges and feels a little "claustrophobic" in that, outside of the songs, most scenes are just people talking and the viewer doesn't feel very engaged.

Indian Dances in Western Films about India: Part 4 (Coproductions)

At last, the final installment of the "Indian Dances in Western Films about India" series!  This post looks at Indian dances in Western-Indian historical coproductions about India.  As I was finishing up Part 3 I realized that I had not included the gorgeous Padmini dances from Pardesi, a crime for sure!  I wasn't sure where they would fit in this series since the film was a coproduction between India and the Soviet Union...thus, Part 4 was born. Coproductions with India get to "cheat" in the sense that they have lots of Indian assistance and input which results in more authentic dances.  Unfortunately outside of Pardesi I've only been able to find one other coproduction with classical-inspired dances in it, so I've split this post into two sections: Soviet-Indian coproductions and the film Jhansi Ki Rani.

Soviet-Indian Coproductions

Raj Kapoor in Shree 420

Russian interest in Indian films is a fascinating subject of study!  A couple great reads are the article "Soviet-Indian Coproductions: Alibaba as Political Allegory" by Masha Salazkina (library/university access required) and the book "Indian Films in Soviet Cinemas: The Culture of Movie-Going After Stalin" by Sudha Rajagopalan (Google Books). From these sources I learned that Soviet-Indian cinematic ties began in the 1950s and seem to have sprung from the political affinity of India and the Soviet Union.  The Soviet Union apparently kicked things off by "courting neutralist India" and sending a group of filmmakers and officials there which was reciprocated in a visit by Indian filmmakers in 1954 resulting in an "official proclamation of friendship and cooperation between the cinemas of the two countries."  It was very interesting to read that Raj Kapoor was a member of the Indian visiting group (along with Bimal Roy, Nargis, and others) and was said to have taken "copious notes" when the group visited the Soviet Institute of Cinematography, the "world's first film institute."  Kapoor seems to have been a critical component of the Soviet-Indian film friendship and there are lots of Russian connections in his work; one of the most endearing was his song about his Russian hat and Indian heart in "Mera Joota Hai Japani" from Shree 420.