Filmmaker Sudhir Mishra unpacks the brilliance of Guru Dutt and its enduring impact

Indian Express

3 days ago

Filmmaker Guru Dutt is like a poet who works with other poets such as Sahir Ludhianvi (he wrote lyrics for Baazi (1951), Jaal (1952) and Pyaasa (1957) among others) and creates enduring cinematic moments. I see his films as a series of moments which resonate with me at various points of my life. I tend to understand myself better in a weird way through those moments.
I don't have an intellectual relationship with Guru Dutt but more of a subconscious relationship. Once his films entered my mind, they never left. I don't know whether that shows in my work. If it shows, I am glad. If it does not show, then I am not good enough. Because of him, I am also attracted to people on the margins.
Chhoti Bahu in Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962), a character essayed by Meena Kumari, is a woman locked up but bursting with desire and sensuality. She wants to explore the world outside. The way Guru Dutt sees women is very interesting. He is not condescending. There is even a mischief there in Waheeda Rehman's character in this film. There is jealousy and all sorts of desire. Women are not ashamed to express their desire. They are not making any excuses. His women are capable of expressing their deeper desires. He treats them as he treats men. Of course, the experiences of men and women are different.
It is remarkable how Guru Dutt almost rewrites a script while making a film. He creates an ambience that's beyond the written pages. Sometimes, it is even contrary to the dialogues. Handled by any ordinary filmmaker, the dialogues can be seen as mundane. A lament can be melodramatic but he makes it poetic. Chhoti Bahu becomes a metaphor for me — much more than just a character.
The way he shoots the songs is outstanding. 'Waqt Ne Kiya Kya Haseen Sitam' in Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959) almost foretells the lead characters' parting and encapsulates the inevitability that their lives will go separate ways. It is kind of in the subconsciousness — he is not trying to intellectualise it. Because he was also a dancer and choreographer, he understood rhythm. The way he shoots 'Jinhe naaz hai hind par woh kahan hai' in Pyaasa — with VK Murthy behind the camera — transforms the song into something much more than a complaint. It is as if he completes the poem by Sahir. He rewrites it with the camera.
My grandmother identified herself as Meena Kumari (who plays Chhoti Bahu) after my grandfather had walked away, into the arms of another woman. I was around five years old when I first watched Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam with my grandmother. My father founded the film society in Lucknow. I saw Guru Dutt's films there again. I watched them on my own. Whenever there was a screening of a Guru Dutt film — Pyaasa, Chaudhvin Ka Chand, Aar Paar or Baazi — I would go. In hindsight, that was the trigger to my becoming a filmmaker.
I am quite intrigued by the fact that he was a passionate man and that his first love was filmmaking. He was obsessed with taking the right shots. He has shot films and dumped them because he was not happy with them. He was trying to make sense of the world. He had certain ideas and it was difficult to replicate them. They are ephemeral. A lot of people can call it confusion. But he was searching as he shot. When he sees Meena Kumari singing 'Na Jao Saiyan Chhuda Ke Baiyan' and Murthy has lit the shot, that's when he realises what he has in his mind.
Consciously, he has left those moments for us. He is a poet, painter, and filmmaker. Call it hyper realism, he takes a moment, fits into the art, and thereby creates a third moment. Look at the image he creates with Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaaye in Pyaasa. He speaks for many.
Guru Dutt exists in all my films. I am not claiming that kind of greatness but I am a product of so many things and my lineage. Then, there is something unique, something that I have — my filmmaking is a search for that. It is what Ghalib called 'andaz-e-bayan' (style of expression). That was what Guru Dutt was searching for. He was also trying to understand who he was.
His death at the age of 39 was sad. When you die young, you either disappear or become a legend. The latter is justified in his case since his films created the impact that they did. He was discovering the medium through his early movies. He is exploring how to treat a character and how to take a shot. Then, he made Pyaasa. He was getting ready to make these kinds of films. Cinema is a commercial world. You can become independent and explore what you want if you are a producer too. He was a producer-director.
The medium of cinema is unique. There are certain things that only cinema can express if you submit to the muse and the medium. Then you will become a filmmaker and express what only cinema can do. That's what he was trying to find. He was saying what can be said only through cinema. His muse was the medium itself.
(As told to Alaka Sahani)