Khalid Mohamed recalls the impact (and copycatting) of Hollywood cinema and its gossip journals, which inspired countless entertainers and iconic spicy magazines of Bollywood, while looking back at the top 10 templates established by the foreign films of his growing-up years in the 1960s.

Curiously, no accessible thesis has attempted an analysis or Hollywood’s influence or the very fact that along with Hindi film entertainment, the varied fare also fanned our fantasies, heightened reality, besides becoming templates for our filmmakers. The only major difference was that most of them were devoid of songs and dances, and that break for a smoke or popcorn during the ‘interval’.  

During a casual conversation with the late Shyam Benegal, he had pointed out that at the outset our silent films in the pre-1931 era derived their elements of the hyper-dramatic, an ensemble cast, interludes of slapstick humour and comedic banter from Parsi theatre.

It was after the independence of India from the British Raj in 1947 that patronizing films from Britain and America intensified, a scattering of cinema auditoria through Bombay being reserved for the productions of the major Hollywood studios. For instance, Metro in the mid-1950s was associated with MGM studio and Eros with Warner Bros.

The first International Film Festival of India (IIFI), or anywhere else in Asia, was organised at the behest of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru by the Films Division of India. Benegal had affirmed that Vittorio De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves and Roberto Rossellini’s Roma: Open City had opened up the alternative of shooting on real locations with either non-professional and not necessarily popular stars, directly inspiring the lately restored classic, Bimal Roy’s Do Bigha Zamin (1953), besides Satyajit Ray’s Pather Panchali (1955), already an observer on the location of Jean Renoir’s The River. Around the end of the 1960s the National Film Development Corporation (NFDC), the National Film Awards, and the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII), were established.

In this context, my topic of the day, revolves around a convent school-going boy (myself), and classmates who unlike me without exception had a violent distaste for “those rubbishy Hindi movies” – a trend which altered dramatically in the 1970s when staple Bollywood blockbusters became uber cool.

To revert to those schooldays, if it wasn’t for one of our neighbours, Mrs Usha Menon, I wouldn’t have been permitted to watch Hollywood cinema still associated with torrid lip locks, scanty costumes, be it a bikini or a navel and hip displaying costume and of course supposed ‘western values’ like drinking alcohol, infidelity,  and rebelling against conservative parents. Not done.

To that, Mrs Menon argued with my elders, “Rubbish! If they’re offensive they’re certified for ‘adults only’. I may also tell you they’ll improve your child’s conversational English since you speak only Hindi at home.” Objections silenced, she whisked me away in her jalopy of a Morris Minor for the afternoon show at Regal of The Geisha Boy. (1958). As IFFI had been a revelation for the great Bimal Roy, Jerry Lewis’s zany comedy was my eye-and-mind openers.   

Jerry Lewis, the British  Norman Wisdom laugh-raisers and the spoofy Carry On series (especially Carry on Cleopatra), Doris Day-Rock Hudson romantic escapades, Summer Place with the blonde Adonis Troy Donahue and the petite Sandra Dee overcoming the speed-breakers in their love story, are just a random selection of the initiation to the Hollywood fixation.

The magazines, Motion Picture (often attached with a pin-up of Marilyn Monroe) and Photoplay highlighted by the tantalising gossip column Under Hedda’s Hat, could be borrowed from the neighbourhood Shemaroo circulating library. Arguably, Hedda Hopper’s column inspired Neeta’s Natter of Stardust from its very inception in 1971.  

Cut now to the top 10 most impactful (and brazenly plagiarised with indigenous ingredients) Hollywood films by their prismatic genres, during the decade of my awakening, the 1960s:

MUSICALS

My Fair Lady (1964): A lavish George Cukor adaptation of Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion, about a ‘guttersnipe’ flower-seller-turned-high society lady under the tutelage of Professor Henry Higgins, performed to perfection by Audrey Hepburn and Rex Harrison that captured multiple Oscars, including Best Picture. Incidentally, Shaw’s Pygmalion had formed the plot premise of R.K. Nayyar’s Love in Simla (1960), and Cukor’s film version was  the take-off point for Basu Chatterjee’s Man Pasand (1980), featuring Dev Anand-Tina Munim. Credited as an adaptation of Bernard Shaw’s play was an obvious subterfuge. A year earlier Prem Sagar’s Hum Tere Aashiq Hain (1979) had been a retread, too, not to forget Lekh Tandon’s Dulhan Wohi Jo Piya Mann Bhaaye (1977). Bernard Shaw didn’t know what he started!

The Sound of Music (1965): Directed by Robert Wise and starring Julie Andrews, this beloved musical became one of the highest-grossing films the world over, showing at Bombay’s Regal cinema to packed houses for over 20 weeks (normally foreign films ran for two to three weeks on an average). Recounting the story of  a strict, wealthy household with unruly children who are eventually won over by a free-spirited, musically gifted caretaker, certain elements were allegedly  borrowed in Gulzar’s Parichay (1972), featuring Sanjeev Kumar, Jaya Bhaduri and Jeetendra. However, the poet-filmmaker has hotly denied the allegation, crediting the story to the Bengali novel Rangeen Uttarain written by  Raj Kumar Maitra.

ZANY COMEDIES

The Nutty Professor (1963): In a dual role of sorts, with Jerry Lewis as the timid, buck-toothed chemistry teacher who discovers a magical portion that can transform him into a suave womaniser, Badhai Ho Badhai (2002), helmed by Satish Kaushik, is cited as its most direct take-off  with Anil Kapoor, an overweight man who infiltrates his own family's household in a more traditionally handsome avatar.

Cactus Flower (1969): Walter Matthau, enacting a dentist pretends to be married to avoid commitment, but when he falls for his girlfriend and proposes, he must recruit his lovelorn nurse to pose as his wife. Ingrid Bergman and Goldie Hawn co-starred in this situation comedy directed by Gene Saks. Clearly, David Dhawan’s Maine Pyaar Kyun Kiya (2005) was thoroughly ‘inspired’ with a playboy doctor (Salman Khan) who asks his devoted secretary (Sushmita Sen) to pose as his suspicious wife to dodge commitment to his arm-candy (Katrina Kaif).

Additionally, the Dhamaal franchise (starting 2007) picks up comedic routines from the star packed It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad Mad World (1963) ...  

SUSPENSE THRILLERS

Psycho (1960): Alfred Hitchcock’s classic pursued an office secretary on the run for embezzlement takes refuge at a secluded California motel owned by a repressed man, concluding with a scream-out-loud finale. Gratifyingly, it has been left untouched by B-town filmmakers.

Wait Until Dark (1967): A lone recently blinded woman, with a bravura performance by Audrey Hepburn, is stalked by goons, led by Alan Arkin, for a heroin-stuffed doll they believe is in her apartment. Directed by Terence Young, the taut script was redrafted by Marathi and Gujarati theatre, its desi film version, Aahat, showcasing Jaya Bhaduri, was started in 1974 but following production delays, was released in February 2010 to empty shows.  

ROMANTIC DRAMAS

Lovers Must Learn (1962): Here were the escapades of an American librarian who takes off for a break to Italy and is caught between her courtship by a middle-aged count and a drop-dead-handsome student of architecture. A a whopping sleeper hit at the Liberty cinema for its dozens of kissing scenes, the scenic locations and the enigmatic beauty of Suzanne Pleshette. In this three-way romance, directed by Delmer Davis, co-featuring Troy Donahue, Rosanno Brazzi add on the bonus of a pivotal role by the stunning Angie Dickinson. A perfect date movie, it sowed the idea in Bollywood of zipping off to overseas locations for that extra touch of visual splendour.  

Send Me No Flowers (1964): Norman Jewison’s take on a hypochondriac who believes he is dying makes plans for his wife—Tony Randall on stand-by, which she discovers and misunderstands. Packed to the rafters at the Metro this ticklish love story, had an in-built audience for the clean-cut chemistry between Rock Hudson and Doris Day. Two Bollywood remakes emerged: Meri Biwi ki Shaadi with Amol Palekar and Ranjeeta, and Shaadi se Pehle (2006) pairing Akshaye Khanna with Ayesha Takia.

SPY UNIVERSE

Dr No (1962) and From Russia with Love (1963): The big daddy of the espionage agent world of Bond, James Bond  with Sean Connery as a resourceful British government agent – directed by Terence Young - seeking answers in a case involving the disappearance of a colleague and the disruption of the American space programme, masterminded by a Dr No, became a pheonomenal craze, to be followed by From Russia with Love – which ran into censor problems since it was believed it could jeopardise dipolamatic relationships with Russia, a friendly nation.  

Ergo, it was entitled from 007 with Love when it released at Regal cinema. Chennai-based Raveekant Nagaich’s Farz with Jeetendra arrived as the singing-dancing-gun-toting, followed by Mithun Chakraborty anointed as Gunmaster 6-9 in Surakksha (1979) and Wardat (1981). And of course every Bombay superstar has slipped into the skin of Bond, be it Rajesh Khanna (Chakravyuha, The Train), Amitabh Bahchan (The Great Gambler) to Salman (Ek Tha Tiger series) and Shah Rukh Khan (Baadshah, Pathaan). And seemingly it’s now the turn of Alia Bhatt to go spying in Jigra.

Like Flint (1967): A sequel this to Our Man Flint directed by Gordon Doglas, headlined by the rakish but dour James Coburn, investigates a cabal of power-mad women plotting to brainwash world leaders was an instantaneous box-office winner at the Regal. Ramanand Sagar’s Charas (1976), featuring Dharmendra-Mala Sinha, followed the ultra-slick tropes, the elaborate settings and characters which mirrored the international espionage style of Flint and James Bond.

The cowboy westerns were left mostly untouched (unless you count Khotay Sikkay (1974) with Feroz Khan), and war dramas, say like The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) didn’t quite make the fit to our milieu.  

Since the take-off of the new millennium copyright rules have become infinitely more stringent and have curbed plain-to-detect copycatting. Rather the trend today, for our film production banners, is to acquire legal rights for remakes of South Korean films and shows.

YRF’s major hit Saiyaara directed by Mohit Suri is an acknowledged transliteration of South Korea’s A Moment to Love. Earlier director Sanjay Gupta was bitten by the Korean implants (Zinda, Jazba, Kaaabil) hopefully of which he has been cured. 

Postscript: Not many may remember that Mrs Indira Gandhi’s government had implemented a freeze of new Hollywood films which lasted from 1971 to 1975.

The relationship between India and the United States had soured around the 1971 Indo-Pakistani War. Foreign film distribution in India was managed by the Motion Picture Export Association of America (MPEAA) - but were heavily restricted from taking that money out of the country due to India's strict foreign exchange laws.

The standoff thawed in 1975; around the time the National Emergency was declared. India and MPEAA negotiated a new contract, and Hollywood was back!

Be that as it may, often I wonder if it weren’t for my dear Mrs Usha Menon, I wouldn’t have been introduced to Jerry Lewis’ ‘The Geisha Boy’, the introduction to the Big – Good or Bad – clout of Hollywood.