If "Sadiyaan"'s only attraction was new faces Luv Sinha and Ferena Wazeir, it wouldn't lure many film-goers into the cinema. But, a triumvirate of talents make it a worthwhile enterprise: Hema Malini, Rekha, and Rishi Kapoor. Fortunately, enough screen time is given to these veterans, who persuade one to overlook the newcomers' tepid performances.
The film begins in tumultuous times: it is 1947, and Amritsar is the roiling scene of sectarian violence. As India is rent asunder into two countries, corpse-laden trains ply between Amritsar and Lahore, as Hindus and Muslims slaughter each other in horrific numbers. Sikh Rajveer Singh and his wife Amrit (Rishi Kapoor and Rekha) flee their Lahore home in what overnight has become Muslim Pakistan and take refuge in the abandoned Amritsar haveli of a Muslim family that has, likewise, taken flight from Hindu India. They discover a toddler in the debris of the mansion, and try to look for his family. When they realize all the Muslims in the area have died or gone across the border, they raise the child with all love and tenderness. Their own son had been killed, and they rejoice at this second chance at parenthood.
The first time Rekha appears on screen, her eyes are shut, and her luxuriant false eyelashes make one think twin moths have alighted on that gorgeous face. My heart sank, because over the years, Rekha has taken to gilding the lily. She possesses an enviable amount of talent, but her screen makeup and wardrobe have become more and more rococo. One wishes she would simply wipe off the excess makeup, dispense with unnecessary baubles, and let the sheer incandescence of her talent and her substantial natural beauty shine through. God knows she has enough of both. But that was just a momentary stumble, for once the story and the actress get going, there isn't a chance to notice things like false eyelashes and the overly fussy tendrils framing those legendary features.
Rekha's Amrit is a paragon of maternal love. But her mother act refrains from becoming cloying. When her adoptive son falls in love with a Muslim girl, and her family refuses to accept a non-Muslim son-in-law, Amrit decides to come clean. Placing her son's happiness above her maternal instincts, she reveals that not only is he NOT her son, the boy is Muslim, as well. When the prospective in-laws accuse her of concocting a story for their acquiescence, her husband and she set about looking for any living relatives of their son in Pakistan.
For years, both sides had thought it impossible for anyone to have survived the bloodbath of the Partition, but miraculously, Amrit and Rajveer's search turns up the boy's parents (Hema Malini and Javed Sheikh), patricians who number among Lahore's elite. The girl's family cannot believe their luck, and immediately agree to the match. When the birth parents show up for the wedding and announce that they will take their son and his bride with them to Pakistan, Amrit and Rajveer are tested anew.
Director Raj Kanwar recognizes his young leads couldn't possibly shoulder the film, and gives the stalwarts plenty of time and screen space to take the story forward, and they don't disappoint.
The film belongs to Rekha, with Rishi Kapoor gallantly abetting his two leading ladies. Hema Malini gets less screen time, but dazzles as the elegant, aristocratic Benazir who is reunited with the son she'd feared dead.
Shatrughan Sinha, new actor Luv Sinha's father, was never known for his looks. Against popular wisdom, he sought a career in film, graduating from the Film and Television Institute of India. At a time when Hindi film heroes were fair and handsome, his dark unconventional looks and chutzpah set him apart. His dialogue delivery and flamboyance made him the go-to villain, and later on, a surprisingly successful leading man.
While I wish Luv Sinha the best in his chosen profession, I would be remiss not to point out that he lacks the looks or—and more's the pity—the talent to make one take notice of him. His Ishaan is callow in the extreme, and his puny physique and unimpressive dialogue delivery don't help. Had he been paired with a beautiful, capable actress, his shortcomings would have been glaringly obvious. Luckily his co-star, like him, is neither good-looking nor talented.
Rekha is a wonder to behold, and I wish her screen outings were more frequent. When there is a good story and a good role, she goes at both with a gusto that is awesome to watch. She looks terrific, too, and over the years of 1947 to 1961 doesn't age by even a single day. I loved her simple but artsy wardrobe, and her great grace and dignity in the face of a tremendous sacrifice.
Rishi Kapoor has gone from cherubic leading man to excellent character actor. In fact this transition has let the actor inside emerge. His turns in "Luck By Chance" and "Fanaa" were a treat to watch. Here, despite not having as showy a role as Rekha, he effectively conveys the anxiety and pain of a parent who might lose his only child. He chivalrously allows some grey to peek through in his beard over the time span of the film, while screen wife Rekha remains impervious to the passage of the years.
Hema Malini at sixty-two is possibly more beautiful now than she ever was as the Dreamgirl of Hindi cinema. Her Benazir is dignified yet passionate, and oh-so-elegant in her Pakistani shalwaar-kameez and pearls.
They truly don't make them like Hema Malini and Rekha anymore: one leaves the cinema with that thought and the fervent wish these ladies get the opportunity to show their mettle in more films. Come on, filmmakers, that's not too much to ask for, is it?
The film begins in tumultuous times: it is 1947, and Amritsar is the roiling scene of sectarian violence. As India is rent asunder into two countries, corpse-laden trains ply between Amritsar and Lahore, as Hindus and Muslims slaughter each other in horrific numbers. Sikh Rajveer Singh and his wife Amrit (Rishi Kapoor and Rekha) flee their Lahore home in what overnight has become Muslim Pakistan and take refuge in the abandoned Amritsar haveli of a Muslim family that has, likewise, taken flight from Hindu India. They discover a toddler in the debris of the mansion, and try to look for his family. When they realize all the Muslims in the area have died or gone across the border, they raise the child with all love and tenderness. Their own son had been killed, and they rejoice at this second chance at parenthood.
The first time Rekha appears on screen, her eyes are shut, and her luxuriant false eyelashes make one think twin moths have alighted on that gorgeous face. My heart sank, because over the years, Rekha has taken to gilding the lily. She possesses an enviable amount of talent, but her screen makeup and wardrobe have become more and more rococo. One wishes she would simply wipe off the excess makeup, dispense with unnecessary baubles, and let the sheer incandescence of her talent and her substantial natural beauty shine through. God knows she has enough of both. But that was just a momentary stumble, for once the story and the actress get going, there isn't a chance to notice things like false eyelashes and the overly fussy tendrils framing those legendary features.
Rekha's Amrit is a paragon of maternal love. But her mother act refrains from becoming cloying. When her adoptive son falls in love with a Muslim girl, and her family refuses to accept a non-Muslim son-in-law, Amrit decides to come clean. Placing her son's happiness above her maternal instincts, she reveals that not only is he NOT her son, the boy is Muslim, as well. When the prospective in-laws accuse her of concocting a story for their acquiescence, her husband and she set about looking for any living relatives of their son in Pakistan.
For years, both sides had thought it impossible for anyone to have survived the bloodbath of the Partition, but miraculously, Amrit and Rajveer's search turns up the boy's parents (Hema Malini and Javed Sheikh), patricians who number among Lahore's elite. The girl's family cannot believe their luck, and immediately agree to the match. When the birth parents show up for the wedding and announce that they will take their son and his bride with them to Pakistan, Amrit and Rajveer are tested anew.
Director Raj Kanwar recognizes his young leads couldn't possibly shoulder the film, and gives the stalwarts plenty of time and screen space to take the story forward, and they don't disappoint.
The film belongs to Rekha, with Rishi Kapoor gallantly abetting his two leading ladies. Hema Malini gets less screen time, but dazzles as the elegant, aristocratic Benazir who is reunited with the son she'd feared dead.
Shatrughan Sinha, new actor Luv Sinha's father, was never known for his looks. Against popular wisdom, he sought a career in film, graduating from the Film and Television Institute of India. At a time when Hindi film heroes were fair and handsome, his dark unconventional looks and chutzpah set him apart. His dialogue delivery and flamboyance made him the go-to villain, and later on, a surprisingly successful leading man.
While I wish Luv Sinha the best in his chosen profession, I would be remiss not to point out that he lacks the looks or—and more's the pity—the talent to make one take notice of him. His Ishaan is callow in the extreme, and his puny physique and unimpressive dialogue delivery don't help. Had he been paired with a beautiful, capable actress, his shortcomings would have been glaringly obvious. Luckily his co-star, like him, is neither good-looking nor talented.
Rekha is a wonder to behold, and I wish her screen outings were more frequent. When there is a good story and a good role, she goes at both with a gusto that is awesome to watch. She looks terrific, too, and over the years of 1947 to 1961 doesn't age by even a single day. I loved her simple but artsy wardrobe, and her great grace and dignity in the face of a tremendous sacrifice.
Rishi Kapoor has gone from cherubic leading man to excellent character actor. In fact this transition has let the actor inside emerge. His turns in "Luck By Chance" and "Fanaa" were a treat to watch. Here, despite not having as showy a role as Rekha, he effectively conveys the anxiety and pain of a parent who might lose his only child. He chivalrously allows some grey to peek through in his beard over the time span of the film, while screen wife Rekha remains impervious to the passage of the years.
Hema Malini at sixty-two is possibly more beautiful now than she ever was as the Dreamgirl of Hindi cinema. Her Benazir is dignified yet passionate, and oh-so-elegant in her Pakistani shalwaar-kameez and pearls.
They truly don't make them like Hema Malini and Rekha anymore: one leaves the cinema with that thought and the fervent wish these ladies get the opportunity to show their mettle in more films. Come on, filmmakers, that's not too much to ask for, is it?
