The saga of cabaret in Bollywood

Written By Yogesh Pawar | Updated: Jul 19, 2015, 08:10 AM IST

As we step back in time, Yogesh Pawar analyses the contribution of cabaret to Indian cinema and remembers deliciously-dangerous icons like Helen, Bindu, Jayshree T and Aruna Irani

To say the first look of Pooja Bhatt’s in-the-thick-of-making Cabaret is a scorcher would be an understatement. Add to that Bhatt’s series of tweets, where she takes on those who dismiss her leading lady Richa Chadha as “un-glamorous,” insisting “they’ll eat their words” after they see the Masaan actor in Cabaret. While the jury is still out on whether Chadha, the poster girl for art-house cinema’s makeover will set cash registers ringing at the box office, Cabaret - speculated to be inspired by yesteryear cabaret-queen Helen’s life - has brought the focus sharply onto not only the cabaret as a genre but leading ladies down the years who’ve shimmied their way into the national imagination creating a niche in the world of filmlore, like few others.

The pioneer...

Right at the top is the Anglo-Myanmarese Helen who began dancing from 12 in films like Awara and Shabistan (1951). Seven years later she danced her way into audience’s hearts with 'Mera naam chin chin chu' in Shakti Samanta’s Howrah Bridge (1957) and has continued to stay there long after she hung up her dancing shoes with 'Main Hoon Lili' in Bond 303 (1986).  While the famously media-averse recluse couldn’t be reached for comment by this writer, author Jerry Pinto nails it perfectly in his definitive book on the dancing diva, Helen: The Life and Times of an H-Bomb. "It wasn't quite lust that Helen aroused, although her dance numbers were chiefly about the pleasure men derive from the female form in motion. Helen was the desire that you need not be embarrassed about feeling. You could forgive yourself that feeling because there was something about her that transcended the tawdry clothes, the bizarre make-up, the invasive camera angles, the inane lyrics and the repetitive choreography and suggestive movements."

From 'Gham Chhod ke Manao Rang Rali' - Gumnaam (1965), 'O Haseena Zulfowali' - Teesri Manzil (1966), 'Aa Jaane Jaan' - Inteqam (1969), 'Piya Tu Ab To Aaja' - Caravan (1971), 'Aao na gale lagao na' - Mere Jeevan Sathi (1972), 'Aaj Ki Raat Koi Aane Ko Hai' - Anamika (1973), 'Mehbooba Mehbooba' - Sholay (1975), 'Mungda Main Gud Ki Dali' - Inkaar (1978), 'Yeh Mera Dil Pyar Ka Deewana' - Don (1978), Helen reprised so many deliciously dangerous women. Be it dancer, gangster’s moll, faithless lover, spy, imperial lady boss or the sickle-bearing toddy-shack owner she effortlessly slipped into the wigs and skin of each character.

Many like film and socio-cultural historian Mukul Joshi lament how despite the fan-following, whistles and wolf cries, Helen really hasn’t got her due. “In many ways she was far more important part than the lead actors. Without her as a foil, and without her character’s fall from grace in her films, how could they come out smelling of roses?” According to him, Bollywood has always insisted on making blacks and greys darker and whites lighter. “When a Rajesh Khanna or Amitabh Bachchan refuse to give in to Helen’s seductions, she was shown successfully wooing villains like Ranjit, Prem Chopra or Pran. This made the hero seem more virtuous the heroine more pure.”  

Which is why his lament about recognition and status as an iconic legend taking its time finding her - when far smaller performers from cinematographers to music directors were chosen over and above her - rings true. “In a way such short-sighted negation of her contribution symbolises the film industry and society’s transfer-projection of the strait-jacketed stereotype which they want to trap women in. Why else would the foil for everyone from Madhubala, Vyjayanthimala to Hema Malini and even Raveena Tandon not get her rightful due?”

The contenders...

Through the 60s Helen remained the undisputed queen of cabaret. But demand was growing and the occasional dance number went on to become the staple. Joining ranks with the queen to create a holy trinity of cabaret queens were Bindu and Aruna Irani who came to be known for both their oomph as dancers and viscerality as vamps.

The now Pune-resident Bindu had already been married for two years when she was offered Kati Patang by Shakti Samanta in 1970. “Samanta offered me the role on the condition that I dance,” she reminisces. And this song was nowhere near her earlier outings on the screen for a song (notable among which is the Madan Moahn composition in Raga Yaman Jiya Le Gayo Ji Mora).  Initially, she was hesitant fearing comparisons with her icon. “Helenji was my icon, I wasn't sure if I could dance the cabaret anywhere close. Samanta encouraged me saying this was more part of the narrative than dancing. He told me how my character is taunting the heroine. It helped that the song was more dialogue than lyrics. I don’t know whether its magic of the Asha Bhosle-R D Burman combination, my moves or the far-ahead-of-its-time costume but I’m amazed how four and half decades later people still remember the song and even call me Shabbo.”

Expectedly, she soon became a rage playing the glam-doll dancer in Mere Jeevan Saathi, Dushman, Garam Masala, Raja Jani, Dharma and Joshilay in the early ’70s. She remembers letting go of all inhibitions, “As a cabaret dancer I couldn’t wear a sari/ghaghra-choli. Though I wore glamorous revealing costumes I wore skin-coloured nylon stitched to my blouse to cover bare skin. That made me comfortable.”

Others like dancing sensation Jayshree T - who Helen once called her legatee on record - too agree that the skin-coloured fabric was what made her comfortable. “While most were decent, I’ve had to contend with the occasional choreographer who’d try to include a risqué camera angle or move. But I was no novice and saw through it. I’d put my foot down and refuse such moves,” remembers the dancing diva who thanks to her live shows had fan following larger than many leading heroes.

Both she and Padma Khanna who were trained in kathak insist their training helped them perform better as cabaret dancers too. While Jayshree T remembers her photographic memory for steps and improvisations she added, Khanna felt everything from expressions and hand movements needs a differtn approach for cabarets. “Otherwise it’d look awkward and funny,” Khanna says citing the instance of a dancer-actor trained in Bharatnatyam who would be stiff in her Western dances. “Even when she danced with Amitabh Bachchan she was a scene-stealer for all the wrong reasons,” she chortles. This dancer-actress who did all the close-up footwork for Meena Kumari in Pakeeza also places Helen on the highest rung when it came to cabaret. “Then there was Aruna Irani who brought a rare kind of raw energy to her moves, Bindu was daring and Jayshree T was a master of anything she did. Given our training in kathak both Jayshree and me could bring a different sensual aesthete to our dancing.”

As the cabaret’s grip on the national imagination grew, even Shashikala Sheesha Aur Phool (1966), Indo-Siryan beauty Faryal in Jewel Thief (1967) and Mumtaz in Apna Desh ( 1972) were taking to the genre, often with aplomb

Cabaret meets disco...

In 1978 two dancing divas were shooting simultaneously at Mehboob studios. Helen was shooting 'Yeh Mera Dil' for Don while Kalpana Iyer was shooting for 'Jab Chhaye Mera Jadoo' Lootmaar. “Slim was in. Disco was in. I was hungry for work and never did any nakhras. I came from a simple middle-class Mumbai family. Money was tight and making ends meet difficult. I began dancing early with live stage shows first and modelling later.”

Since she was punctual, disciplined and learnt steps quickly filmmakers could shoot without wasting shifts. “On the sets of Lootmaar I signed the title song for Bambai ka Maharajah, Kudrat (Chodo Sanam), Sajan ki saheli (Nau taak mangta) and Pyaara Dushman (Hari Om Hari). It came to point where I was just working in multiple shifts with all the top stars,” says Kalpana Iyer on facebook messenger from Dubai where she’s settled.

Remembering how the scenario was changing rapidly, she remarks, “The era of lavish huge sets was gone. The directors I worked with wanted to shoot in real discos,” and adds, “While choreographers changed, the music director was soon only Bappida for most of my songs sung either by Asha Bhosle or Usha Utthup. I’d developed a working understanding of my look with the late gifted and brilliant designer Allan Gill. The chemistry we shared shows in our work even today.”

The roti-robbers...

Given how insecure some leading ladies began to become of the cabaret queens, it wasn’t surprising to see them soon taking on these roles too. “Khud ki toh kha hee rahe the, abb cabaret dancers ki roti bh churaane lage,” smiles Jayshree T sadly

Historian Joshi too concurs with Jayshree T. He observes, “While Bollywood lead actresses like Kareena (Talash/Muskan jhooti hai), Priyanka (Gunday/ Asalam-e-Ishqam), Deepika (Om Shanti Om/ Dhoom Tana), Bipasha Basu (Players/ Ho Gayi Tunn), Anushka (Bombay Velvet), Lauren Gottlieb (Detective Byomkesh Bakshi/Calcutta kiss), Gauhar Khan (Once Upon A Time in Mumbai/ Parda Parda),  are doing item numbers and cabarets in various films, this isn’t a new trend, Mumtaz did it in 1972 and a decade later the late beautiful member of the Junagadh royal family Parveen Babi impressed everyone with her sizzling moves in Namak Halal (Jawan Janeman and raat baaki).”

Seniors like Bindu, Jayshree T and Shashikala admit that they often were left to figure out fitness and fashion on their own. “Today they have an army of bouncers, make-up men, designers, personal trainers and other minions at their beck and call,” remembers Shashikala who designed her wigs and costume for her outing in a cabaret number on her own. “I had been to Europe and seen what the actual dancers wore. I used my own ingenuity to come up with something matching.”

Bindu too remembers being particular about both diet and exercise. “I never ate lunch on the sets. I’d carry buttermilk, beetroot soup and fruits. When you dance on a full belly it shows through the costume.”

Never one to mince words, songstress Asha Bhosale had recently quipped in a radio interview: ““When you see what heroines in films of today wear and the kind of dance moves and gestures they do, one can only think of Helen and Jayshree T as devis.”

So how will Richa Chadha fare? Watch this space...