Celebrating 100 years of Guru Dutt
This video tells his story, from learning dance in Almora to directing Pyaasa, Kaagaz Ke Phool, and Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam. His films, once misunderstood, are now considered among India's greatest.
Presentation: Sharmada Venkatasubramanian
Editing: Johan Sathyadas J
Script: Shikha Kumari A
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The Print
2 hours ago
- The Print
Guru Dutt was more than brooding loneliness. His cinema pulsed with wit and satire
Yet, as Nasreen Munni Kabir notes in Guru Dutt: A Life in Cinema , he was also looking ahead—eager to complete Baharen Phir Bhi Aayengi and actively involved in projects like K Asif's Love and God and RS Tara's Picnic . His professionalism, even amid personal struggles, remained intact. Similarly, auteurs like Andrei Tarkovsky, Ingmar Bergman, and Michelangelo Antonioni explored alienation and melancholy in their work—elements that often mirror personal conflicts but do not define the artist. In Dutt's case, films like Pyaasa and Kaagaz Ke Phool certainly convey the brooding alienation of a misunderstood artist. The latter, semi-autobiographical and a commercial failure at the time, deepened the myth of the tortured filmmaker. On Guru Dutt's centenary, much of the discourse gravitates toward his mental health and tragic end, often at the cost of overshadowing his towering cinematic legacy. This recurring emphasis on his depression reflects a broader cultural tendency to conflate artistic genius with emotional turmoil—a narrative seen with Tim Burton, Francis Ford Coppola, and Lars von Trier, all of whom have openly discussed their struggles with mental health. The so-called suicide theory remains contested. While he had earlier incidents involving sleeping pills, there is little definitive evidence that his death was intentional. His onscreen presence in songs like 'Bhanwara Bada Naadan' or 'Aaj Ki Mulaqat' doesn't bear the stamp of a man entirely consumed by despair. As with Meena Kumari and Madhubala, the mythmaking around Dutt often overshadows the reality: that he was a complex, driven artist who, despite loneliness and internal battles, continued to work, create, and captivate. A hundred years on, it's time to remember Guru Dutt not merely as a tragic figure, but as a visionary who redefined Indian cinema with lyricism, technical innovation, and emotional depth. His work endures—not because of the mystique surrounding his death, but because of the life he poured into every frame. Also read: Guru Dutt built Bollywood's most unlikely dream team—bus conductor, unknown writer, dancer Aar Paar showed a different Guru Dutt The lighter side of Guru Dutt shines through in the genre-bending experimentation of his 1954 film Aar Paar. A blend of noir, romance, musical, and social satire, Aar Paar marks a confident display of Dutt's directorial control. Fresh off the success of Baazi and Jaal, Dutt centres the film on Kaalu, a taxi driver navigating love and crime in Bombay's post-Independence urban landscape. Played by Dutt himself, Kaalu is emblematic of the city's working class, making Aar Paar one of the earliest Indian films to realistically portray the migrant population of Bombay. Unlike the mythic romanticism of Kaagaz Ke Phool, Aar Paar is embedded in the everyday. Abrar Alvi's dialogue sparkles with authenticity; characters speak in a mix of Hindi, Urdu, and Bombay street slang—a linguistic realism rare for its time. The film avoids 'literary' Hindi and allows each character to speak in their own dialect. The noir elements—use of shadows, reflective surfaces, and confined spaces—coexist with choreographed musical exuberance. Songs like 'Sun Sun Zalima' (shot in a garage) and 'Ye Lo Main Haari Piya' (set on Bombay's streets) turn real urban spaces into stylised songscapes. The garage scene is particularly notable for its use of space as narrative—a car becomes both a prop and symbolic barrier between the lovers. The song 'Mohabbat Karlo Ji Bharlo' offers a meta-commentary on love and disillusionment. Dutt's character grunts disapprovingly at young lovers, only to break into a philosophical song that reflects both scepticism and rueful acceptance of love's illusions. Such visual playfulness and choreographed mise-en-scène are rarely seen in Indian cinema of the time. Dutt and Shyama share palpable on-screen chemistry, anchoring the romantic plot with charm. Shakila, in her noir-inspired club songs like 'Babuji Dheere Chalna,' brings sensual mystique, marking the arrival of the femme fatale in Indian noir. Johnny Walker, as always, injects comedic balance, grounding the film in Dutt's broader humanist vision. Aar Paar redefined the musical as a narrative driver, not merely an interlude. It also foregrounded Bombay as a character—its taxis, clubs, backstreets, and garages becoming living, breathing backdrops. The creative team—Abrar Alvi (dialogue), VK Murthy (cinematography), OP Nayyar (music), and Majrooh Sultanpuri (lyrics)—set a high-water mark for collaboration in Hindi cinema. The film laid the groundwork for the noir-romance blend seen in later works like CID (1956), Kala Bazar (1960), and even Teesri Manzil (1966). Aar Paar is an essential film in Guru Dutt's legacy—not a footnote, but a standalone masterpiece that showcases his wit, range, and control. Its artistic experimentation, urban realism, and unforgettable music testify to Dutt's joy in storytelling. It's time we celebrate Aar Paar not just as a 'lighter' film, but as a work of cinematic intelligence and warmth that rivals any in Dutt's oeuvre. Rajeev Srivastava is a filmmaker and photographer, who has directed and produced documentaries and reportage for the World Bank, BBC, Reuters, APTN, and France 24. He has also curated international film festivals in Delhi. Views are personal. (Edited by Prashant)
Hans India
12 hours ago
- Hans India
Guru Dutt: A fine specimen of introspective artistry
As India commemorates the 100th birth anniversary of Guru Dutt in 2025, the spotlight returns to one of the most enigmatic and influential figures in Indian cinema. Born on July 9, 1925, Guru Dutt's legacy transcends time, genre, and geography. His films were not just entertainment—they were poetic reflections on the human condition, marked by emotional depth, visual innovation, and philosophical introspection. Guru Dutt's cinematic journey, though tragically brief, was revolutionary. Films like Pyaasa (1957), Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959), and Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962) explored themes of alienation, artistic struggle, and societal decay with a sensitivity rarely seen in mainstream cinema. His protagonists—often misunderstood poets or disillusioned dreamers—mirrored the existential angst of a newly independent nation grappling with identity and modernity. Technically, Dutt was a pioneer. His collaboration with cinematographer V.K. Murthy introduced dramatic lighting and expressive framing that gave his films a noir-like intensity. His use of CinemaScope in Kaagaz Ke Phool was a bold experiment in visual storytelling, decades ahead of its time. Equally powerful was his musical sensibility. Songs like 'Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaaye' and 'Waqt Ne Kiya Kya Haseen Sitam' remain cultural touchstones, blending lyrical melancholy with haunting melodies that continue to resonate. In today's era of spectacle-driven cinema, Guru Dutt's introspective artistry offers a counterpoint—a reminder that film can be both personal and profound. His influence is visible in the works of auteurs like Satyajit Ray, Mani Ratnam, and Anurag Kashyap, and his films are now studied globally for their emotional and aesthetic richness. As retrospectives, exhibitions, and digital restorations mark his centenary, Guru Dutt's voice echoes louder than ever. He was not just a filmmaker—he was a philosopher of the screen, a poet of shadows, and a visionary who saw cinema as a mirror to the soul. Amarjeet Kumar, Hazaribagh
Hindustan Times
20 hours ago
- Hindustan Times
Guru Dutt's tragic affair with life, and Bollywood
In the Hindi film world, Deepika is not the only famous Padukone. Many decades earlier there was another Padukone, arguably far more iconic. His name was Gurudutta Padukone, known to the world as Guru Dutt. July 9 marked his 100th birth anniversary. Starting life as a telephone operator, Guru Dutt achieved, even before he was 30, unprecedented success in Hindi cinema. Making his directorial debut with the hit film Baazi in 1951 starring Dev Anand, he acted in/directed or produced four blockbusters between 1954 and 1956 — Aar Paar (1954), Mr & Mrs 1955 (1995), and CID and Sailaab in 1956. In 1960, he played the lead role in the unforgettable commercial hit, Chaudhvin ka Chand. But apart from these successes, Guru Dutt will always be remembered for three of his films, Pyaasa (1957), Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959), and Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962). In an era where most films were mythological dramas, the usual song and dance routines, or tales of simplistic morality, Dutt had the courage to create these celluloid indictments of a society that rewards mediocrity, punishes idealism, and fears introspection. To understand Guru Dutt's genius, one must first understand Pyaasa, arguably his magnum opus. At its heart is Vijay, a penniless poet in a materialistic world, whose verses, suffused with anguish and truth, find no takers. In crafting Vijay, Dutt gave us a character who was as much a reflection of his own inner torment as he was a symbol of the artist in any era — ignored, misunderstood, and ultimately commodified. Dutt employed Sahir Ludhianvi's searing poetry — Jinhe naaz hai Hind par woh kahan hain? — to strip away the false pieties of a newly independent nation that had begun to forget its promises. Pyaasa will be remembered too for the role of Gulabo, the courtesan played by Waheeda Rehman, who becomes the sole repository of compassion in a cruel world. Dutt subverts societal norms by investing dignity in the most marginalised. That, in essence, was his moral vision: the courage to see worth where others saw waste. In its stunning compositions, Dutt introduced a visual grammar rarely seen in Indian cinema at that time — deep shadows, noir-inspired frames, long tracking shots that mirrored the protagonist's emotional descent. In short, he turned cinema into poetry. If Pyaasa — which was listed in the top 100 films ever by Time magazine — was Guru Dutt's lament for a callous society, Kaagaz Ke Phool was his bitter elegy to fame, failure, and the crushing loneliness of the creative spirit. Rarely has any filmmaker so nakedly exposed his inner disillusionment on screen. The film is an autobiographical confessional, cloaked in fictional narrative. Ironically, while regarded now as a cult classic, it was a commercial disaster. The film's protagonist, Suresh Sinha, is a celebrated film director who falls from grace, destroyed by a society that first deifies and then discards him. It is a scathing commentary on the fickle nature of fame, on the voyeurism of a public that consumes the artist but offers him no solace. That iconic shot of light streaming through the studio roof onto a forlorn Sinha remains one of the most powerful visual metaphors in Indian film history. In Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam, Guru Dutt turned his gaze towards the declining feudal order and, in doing so, offered one of Indian cinema's most nuanced portrayals of female suffering and resilience. While the film was directed by Abrar Alvi, its visual style, thematic undertones, and emotional palette bear the unmistakable stamp of Dutt. Meena Kumari's haunting performance as Chhoti Bahu, the lonely wife who turns to alcohol to win her husband's love, is arguably the most tragic character in Dutt's oeuvre. Guru Dutt's personal life was tormented. He drank and smoked excessively. His marriage to singer-artist Geeta Dutt was a failure. His rumoured infatuation with Waheeda Rehman also led nowhere. On October 10, 1964, at the age of 39, he was found dead, possibly due to an accidental overdose of alcohol and sleeping pills, but more likely suicide, which he had attempted twice before. What sets Guru Dutt apart is his profound aesthetic solitude. He did not pander. He did not flatter. He did not conform. In today's age of algorithm-driven content, he insisted that art must have soul. Pavan K Varma is author, diplomat, and former Member of Parliament (Rajya Sabha). The views expressed are personal.
