Latest news with #JaaneBhiDoYaaro


NDTV
11-07-2025
- Entertainment
- NDTV
Gurugram And Its 'Manhattan' Dreams: Fake It Till You Flood It
There is a reason why Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro, made in 1983, is called a cult movie. There is plenty in the Kundan Shah satire to jolt one's memory every time something strange or absurd happens in India. As it happens, this week I thought of Tarneja, the ruthless real estate builder played by Pankaj Kapur, as monsoon rains flooded Gurugram, sparking an annual ritual of outrage, memes and protests. In that movie, there is a place where the then Bombay's realtor talks of plans to reclaim the Arabian Sea, with the projection that one day, Bombay will reach Dubai. In Gurugram's case, one could say that having reached Sohna and Bhiwadi already, the city, once considered a distant, rural suburb of "congested" Delhi, is fast on its way to a merger with Jaipur. While news pages are moaning about waterlogged roads in the city, there is a builder boldly advertising in a newspaper jacket "luxe suites" in a place imaginatively titled "South of Gurugram". It seems like the other day that a locality now in the heart of New Delhi was named "South Extension" in a self-explanatory name gone horribly wrong. A Reality Check, Please Gurugram's realty boom badly needs a reality check. A drive through the national highway to Jaipur on a sunny winter day might well make you think you are driving past an Asian version of New York's Manhattan, befitting its title as Millennium City, as skyscrapers with multinational software company tags flash by. But the ground reality is exposed in the rainy season, when you realise cloud computing badly needs a monsoon version because there is no connection between the Manhattan fantasies and traffic jams worsened by flooded roads, not to speak of accidents caused by exposed live wires. A massive crater swallowed by a truck in Gurugram late Wednesday night after an intense spell of rain caused a portion of the road to collapse. A friend updates on Facebook that he is now staying in what might be called Lake View Apartments. Given the mix of unfounded optimism and brash advertising that Gurugram's realtors are famous for, they might even turn such sarcasm into a sales pitch. "We promised you a Manhattan Skyline. We also deliver Venice. Absolutely free. Rush to book at early bird prices." Seriously, how did we get here? Gurugram is growing on all sides, defying all sorts of logic. The answers are varied, but the phenomenon remains real. From Gaon To Gurgaon Circa 1991, when India launched an economic liberalisation programme under then Finance Minister Manmohan Singh, the doors were opened to prospects of foreign investment, and with it came a dream sold by Kushal Pal Singh, who built DLF and acquired the tag of the builder of Millennium City. Until then, Gurgaon, as it was called, was an affordable boondocks village for poorer Delhiwalas, such as humbler Partition refugees from Punjab. Then there were early Punjabi lovers of the " kothi" (a house built on one's own plot, not a multistorey apartment) who dreamed of an idyllic life away from what was then called "polluted" Delhi. Today, Gurugram grapples not only with monsoon flooding but also winter-time smog equally blessed by an unchecked automobile boom and stubble-burning by farmers in Haryana and Punjab. DLF successfully sold new dreams as companies like Nestle built spacious Manhattan-resembling offices. South Delhi's eager wannabes bought into the dream and shifted up in droves as well-paying MNC jobs met New York and new-rich lifestyle fantasies. As the Microsofts and Googles of this world set up shop, the centre of gravity of India's national capital almost shifted to the concrete-and-glass skyscrapers of Gurugram. A new-age metro rail moved in to aid poorer commuters. Such is the lifestyle-meets-social status dream of the South Delhi middle-class that monsoon mayhem and large doses of pollution do little to shake their zest for life. Gated Dreams Meet Guttered Roads Around the same time as Gurugram started towards its skyscrapers, in 1991, Robert Reich, who went on to become the Secretary of Labor for the US, wrote in a thought-leading New York Times article titled 'Secession of the Successful' about the rise of gated communities for the rich. Gurgaon-turned-Gurugram offers an excellent Indian example of the phenomenon that undermines old-fashioned ideas of the city as a shared space of various kinds of citizenry. But fairy tales have a horrible way of unravelling. Waterlogging, traffic jams, bar brawls, and air pollution are part of Gurugram's everyday reality because heady growth was foisted upon the city by a bunch of realtors and wannabe consumers who had the wealth to buy penthouses, but not the resourcefulness to build basic infrastructure. The greatness of urbanity was thrust upon what was once a sleepy village, resulting in a strange mix of vanity and inanity. A Shoddy System It pays to remember that Gurugram started out with a difficult terrain. It is partly located around the rocky Aravalli hills. Groundwater problems and water shortages were somewhat anticipated. But the overloading of offices and apartments and the inadequacy of municipal infrastructure were not really on the minds of dream merchants. A flooded road in Gurugram last year. Gurugram did not have a municipal corporation until 2008, nearly two decades after the suburb started out to be a city. The city had a master plan unveiled only in 2007, while a "metropolitan development authority" was set up as late as 2017. Such bodies, pushed more by private developers than a real town-planning vision, had mixed-up priorities, much like a house having ambitious architects but not a sound foundation. What Could Have Been You only have to contrast Gurugram with Noida, Chandigarh or New Delhi to get an idea of what could have been. Built by state authorities who thought up roads, parks and stadia first, the sense of space and infrastructure management shown by these cities is far better than Gurugram. It does not help that the rich, trendy citizens of Gurugram have no real voting power. Even New York has a 'leftist' in Zohran Mamdani to speak for the well-being of its citizens. The Haryana town has no such luck. Farmers-turned-land sellers or rugged rural politicians offer little hope for its lifestyle addicts, who are more comfortable in happening bars than in mustard fields. When the successful secede from their roots, they learn hard lessons in politics and administration. Angry Instagram posts or tagging politicos on X tweets can hardly help. Their high-rise apartment block is more like a Noah's Ark protecting them from the floods than a tower of power that can get roads cleaned up. Realtors, meanwhile, sell more dreams to feather their own nests. Maybe, just maybe, dreams of a Viksit Bharat may grow to include the idea that development is not about Gross Domestic Product but the quality of life of citizens. Maybe, just maybe, such moral suasion might work on rugged politicians who are busy dividing people along caste or religious lines. Maybe, just maybe, we might see a born-again Gurugram in which the facilities inside a gated complex match the amenities outside. Hope thrashes about in the swirling, muddy monsoon waters of Millennium City. (Madhavan Narayanan is a senior editor, writer and columnist with more than 30 years of experience, having worked for Reuters, The Economic Times, Business Standard, and Hindustan Times after starting out in the Times of India Group.) Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author


Time of India
16-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Neena Gupta reveals a huge part of her role from 'Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro' was removed
Actress Neena Gupta, who is awaiting the release of her upcoming film 'Metro... In Dino', has revealed that almost one track of her character was trimmed out from the cult-classic 'Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro'. Actress Neena Gupta , who is awaiting the release of her upcoming film 'Metro... In Dino', has revealed that almost one track of her character was trimmed out from the cult-classic 'Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro'. The actress spoke with IANS ahead of the release of 'Metro... In Dino', and shared that she had a track with actor Ravi Baswani . However, she told IANS that her entire track with Ravi was edited from the film. Speaking with IANS, the actress said, "I had a track with Ravi Baswani. It was dropped from the final output. In fact, it got cut in the rehearsal itself. It was a major track. The film was very long on paper. We used to rehearse. We used to read the play. They thought it was too long. So the makers cut our track." She further mentioned that she has read the script of the film's sequel, which was also quite long. However, the film has been shelved, and the actress feels it's for better. "I have read the script of 'Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro 2'. I have read the script. Very long script again. I was almost playing Bhakti's role. The film's producer called me. I forgot his name. I don't know what happened but it got shelved. It's good that it didn't work out. Whatever is good, it shouldn't be made again. It is a classic," she added. Earlier, the actress recollected an incident when she was ready to give her shot on the film's set but was asked to return to her van. The actress shared that director Anurag Basu is very instinctive and perceptive, and is brimming with ideas till the last moment before the take. She praised Anurag and said that the whole script is in his head and the best part of working with him is that he improvises on the spot. Presented by Gulshan Kumar & T-Series presents, in association with Anurag Basu Productions Pvt. Ltd., 'Metro... In Dino' is produced by Bhushan Kumar, Krishan Kumar, Anurag Basu, and Taani Basu. The film is set to arrive in cinemas on July 4, 2025.


Indian Express
31-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
Ek Doctor Ki Maut: Put some respect on Pankaj Kapur's name and give him that Padma Shri; he's a national treasure
It's Pankaj Kapur; he's the secret sauce that brings it all together. In India, even the best actors are rendered helpless without proper direction. Only a few of them can deliver dependably strong performances regardless of how skilled the filmmaker supervising them might be. This is the difference between Manoj Bajpayee and Nawazuddin Siddiqui, between Alia Bhatt and Taapsee Pannu. It is up to you to figure out who falls in which category. Kapur, however, can instinctively understand the tone of the project he's in, figure out his position in it, and then mould his performance accordingly. Over the course of his decades-long career, he has proven himself to be uncommonly chameleonic. In the cult comedy classic Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro, he played the cartoonish villain Tarneja; a dastardly man with a Napoleon complex so comical that his entire body seemed to be revolting against it. In Vishal Bhardwaj's Maqbool, he communicated more through a silent closeup than others could with a soliloquy; in Anubhav Sinha's IC-814: The Kandahar Hijack, his one look was enough to inspire faith in an institution as untrustworthy as government. Kapur was doing television before it became cool (even in Hollywood). And yet, when lists are made about the greatest Indian actors of his generation, for some reason, his name isn't at the top of them. Naseeruddin Shah won a Padma Shri in 1987, and a Padma Bhushan in 2003. Kapur, 71, has won neither. Also read – Kapurush: The most underrated film of Satyajit Ray's career predates Past Lives by decades, but is even more stirring Perhaps the greatest metaphor for his career is the plot of the film Ek Doctor Ki Maut, directed by Tapan Sinha and released at the end of the parallel cinema movement; Aditya Chopra and Ram Gopal Varma were right around the corner, ready to drive Hindi movies to an entirely foreign destination. In the film, the detestable Dr Dipankar Roy claims to have invented a vaccine that could wipe leprosy off the face of the earth. But he's made to run around in circles by professional rivals, jealous colleagues, and petty superiors. In the end, he throws in his weapons and concedes defeat, allowing foreign scientists to claim a victory that was rightfully his. The biggest question that Ek Doctor Ki Maut leaves you with is this: had Dipankar been a more pleasant fellow, would he have avoided getting wrapped up in red tape? Would he have been honoured for his achievements? The biggest hurdle in Dipankar's path to success, the movie suggests, is his personality. He doesn't drink a drop of alcohol in the film, but Kapur plays him like a drunk. Dipankar is prone to outbursts; they're typically directed at his long-suffering wife, Seema, played by Shabana Azmi. He doesn't seem to have any friends, although he finds companionship of a kind in a young reporter, played by Irrfan Khan. His anger and frustration erupts with worrying regularity; he doesn't much care for the basic necessities of life, such as food and leisure. Dipankar isn't a happy man, not even when he's tinkering away in his home-made laboratory. There's probably more than one undiagnosed mental illness lurking in his psyche. It's a waste of his time, he says, to be put through the rigmarole by middle-managers and the like. Everybody in his community seems to either be jealous of him or furious at him. It isn't that they doubt his claims; he could've cured cancer for all they care. They simply don't want someone like him to succeed. But then, there's evidence to suggest that they'd have probably have treated him similarly had he been a nicer person. Kapur himself toyed with this alternate scenario in the show Office Office, which trapped an altogether more agreeable man in a web of bureaucracy. What Dipankar needed to be, it becomes clear as the movie goes along, is a sycophant. Read more – Sikandar: Anurag Kashyap's right; Bollywood is doomed if stars like Salman Khan enable the Snapchat-ification of cinema It's no secret that one's ability to navigate the system plays a role in their being considered for an award. Eligibility is secondary; talent is tertiary. Not always, but often. There is no way of knowing how astute Kapur is in these matters. But, as Ek Doctor Ki Maut asserts, Indian society has an odd relationship to fame. Poor behaviour is forgiven (at least publicly) the moment someone hits a certain level of popularity and power. Like everything else, their reputation often rests on their ability to make others money. And since fame and finances are usually in bed together, it's common for folks who've outlived their usefulness to be discarded without a thought. These are all ideas that Ek Doctor Ki Maut contemplates, but struggles to express; at least not as lucidly as IC 814: The Kandahar Hijack, yet another project featuring Kapur that put 'babugiri' on blast. Dipankar is mature enough to understand the ways of the world, and yet, because of his misplaced idealism, he finds it near-impossible to fit in. He is a recluse; he leaves home only to tend to his patients. That, too, with a clinical dispassion. He finds it easier to channel his frustration into hate for an inanimate disease than empathy for a living being. He's a complex character with exactly two dimensions, the sort that sounds impossible to play on screen. And this is why Kapur's performance is so memorable, and his effortless talent so underappreciated. Post Credits Scene is a column in which we dissect new releases every week, with particular focus on context, craft, and characters. Because there's always something to fixate about once the dust has settled. Rohan Naahar is an assistant editor at Indian Express online. He covers pop-culture across formats and mediums. He is a 'Rotten Tomatoes-approved' critic and a member of the Film Critics Guild of India. He previously worked with the Hindustan Times, where he wrote hundreds of film and television reviews, produced videos, and interviewed the biggest names in Indian and international cinema. At the Express, he writes a column titled Post Credits Scene, and has hosted a podcast called Movie Police. You can find him on X at @RohanNaahar, and write to him at He is also on LinkedIn and Instagram. ... Read More


Time of India
19-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Naseeruddin Shah recalls doing three shifts a day for money: 'There is no worse torture'
Naseeruddin Shah is considered one of the best actors of Hindi cinema . He's known for many movies like ' Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro ', ' A Wednesday ' among others. But did you know that in the early days of his career, the actor has done some movies due to shortage of money. In a recent interview, he spoke about it and also admitted that he regretted it. Shah said in a podcast of Aadyam Theatre's Youtube channel, "I've done three shifts a day, and there's no worse torture in the world. There was a time when I was acting in several lovely movies for money. And I realized no amount of money is worth this agony, of jumping from one set to another. Half of the time, you're bloody socializing on set. You get there for the 9 am shift, then you spend another hour or so having breakfast, enjoying the scenery, and gossiping." However, Ratna Pathak Shah who was also on this podcast, spoke about her own experiences and said, "I've done very little work that is of a high quality. I've done most of my work on television, so that's not the kind of quality we're talking about when we talk about great art. But I have realized if I don't give it my all and I don't use the skills I'm using while I'm doing theatre, then this doesn't sound or look right.' She added that she feels there is not point of doing work which is subpar. 'I do so little work that I can't get myself to cheat even in that. I understand if I'm doing four shifts a day, then I'd just spit in one and move ahead. But if a play or a role comes to me after two years, then at least I should work hard in that,' added Ratna. Recenly, Ratna was at FICCI Flo Hyderabad summit, and said she feels resentful of her husband Naseeruddin's position. 'I love the fact that he is totally focused on his work, and he is the most generous person to work with as an actor, as a director, in every way. As a director, he helps every single person arrive at the best of what they are capable of,' she said. She added that she takes second place in his life after his work. "I love that about him, but I also hate that about him. I love acting, but I am not committed to it the way he is. I do sometimes feel resentful in taking second place to work, but finally I have made my peace with that,' Ratna added.


The Hindu
08-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
WAVES summit x Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro
By the third day of WAVES (World Audio Visual Entertainment Summit), the recent sarkari symposium held in Mumbai, I was tuckered out. Prime Minister Narendra Modi delivered the inaugural address; thenceforth, sessions upon sessions — about cultural soft power, about innovation and the 'orange economy', about how Netflix created 20,000 jobs through its local productions in India. Wandering around the vast Jio World Convention Centre in BKC, what caught my attention was a much simpler item on the agenda: a film poster-making competition. Arranged on easels, outside one of the venues, were 10 hand-drawn paintings. The competition was co-organised by the National Film Archive of India (NFAI) and ImageNation, a Delhi-based art group specialising in graffiti and murals. In the age of generative AI and the off-putting Studio Ghibli trend, the young participants — hailing from various art and film institutes of India — were given three hours in which to finish their paintings. But what delighted me most was the choice of film they were tossed: Kundan Shah's corrosive political satire Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro. The irony was unmissable. A comic skewering of bureaucracy and crony capitalism from the early 1980s, celebrated, over four decades later, at the heart of corporate Mumbai. The winning entry — a sly evocation of this dystopian imbalance — was by Drishya Ashok, a 25-year-old art direction student from the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII). Born in Palakkad but brought up in Pollachi, Tamil Nadu, Ashok studied architecture and later assisted in the art departments of the Tamil films Demonte Colony (2015) and Naane Varuvean (2022). She watched Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro for the first time in preparation for the competition — 'It's so political and timeless!' The third eye In Shah's endlessly entertaining classic, two foppish but penniless still photographers, played by Naseeruddin Shah and Ravi Baswani, stumble upon evidence of a political murder. Their slapstick sleuthing unfolds against the backdrop of a transforming Bombay, the concrete wilderness taking root. In Ashok's painting, an analogue Pentax camera peers down from a flyover, keenly surveying a city bent out of shape. Seen from a distance, the camera almost resembles a surveillance drone. 'In film school, we are taught that the camera is the third eye,' she says. 'It can manipulate you, provoke you. Currently, surveillance is happening everywhere through CCTV... and in the age of AI, the camera can even control itself. It can choose what to watch and where to watch.' While many of the other entries interpreted the film literally, it is this forbidding retrofuturistic quality to Drishya's painting that puts it in conversation with present times. Ashok lists Blade Runner, Solaris, Stalker and Metropolis as some of her favourite sci-fi works. Her regard for the genre isn't out of place with Shah's legacy. In his book, Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro: Seriously Funny since 1983, Jai Arjun Singh reports that the filmmaker had written an unfilmed script in the late 70s called A Detective Story, which combined elements of 'psychological thriller, social commentary and science fiction'. The plot centred on a dangerous 'wonder drug' that eliminates hunger. I reached out to Binod Pradhan, the cinematographer of Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro, for a comment on Ashok's painting. 'The first thing that struck me was the unique font of the title Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro. It went well with the rather dystopian world created by Drishya,' he shares. 'It's so modern, far away from the times we were in during the making of the film. The images look like [they are] from the film, but as if [they] were made in the modern world. The camera that smashed the bridge and the two characters hanging desperately onto celluloid film — as we wish we could in real life as filmmakers. That's a wonderfully thoughtful layer in the poster!'