Disability in Hindi Films

The things that contributed towards the elevation of Amitabh Bachchan to superstardom in the mid 70s and early 80s are his smouldering anger, the baritone voice that he possessed, the angst he displayed against the redundant socialist morality of that era and, disability. Yes, you have read it correctly; disability or to put it more precisely, deformity. There is an inconspicuous link in the films of Amitabh Bachchan. From Sunil Dutt directed ‘Reshma aur Shera’ (1971), Manoj Kumar’s ‘Roti, Kapda aur Makan’ (1974), to Raj Sippy’s remake of ‘Seven brides for seven brothers’; ‘Satte pe Satta’ (1982) and Vipul Shah’s ‘Aakhen (2002), a prominent peripheral character or characters (except the first two films mentioned above, where Bachchan himself has portrayed characters with disability) are shown with deformity of some kind.

The writers and directors of that period who worked with Bachchan have used such characters to showcase the magnanimity and generosity of the protagonist. ‘Majboor’, (1974) ‘Amar, Akbar, Anthony’ (1977) and ‘Laawaris’ (1981) can be sited as best examples to back this argument. In Ravi Tandon’s ‘Majboor’, he is ready to face the gallows for the sake of his crippled sister’s (Farida Jalal) future. ‘Amar, Akbar, Anthony’ one of the most successful lost-and-found saga from the Manmohan Desai stable, has ubiquitous Nirupa Roy playing his blind mother. And in ‘Laawaris’ directed by Prakash Mehra, we see him turn the potter’s wheel singing ‘Jiska Koi Nahin Uska To Khuda Hai Yaaron’ to help his friend Suresh Oberoi, whose hands are amputated. You will find these kind of marginalized (read disabled) characters in at least one-sixth of the movies in Bachchan’s oeuvre of 120 odd films. These people helped the directors to put a compassionate halo behind the larger-than-life image of the Angry Young Man.

This phenomenon works strictly within the limits of commercial parameters. So these characters never moved beyond mere stereotypes that deserve our sympathy or pity.

The social observers and media commentators have always argued about lack of realistic representation of disability in our movies. Here the filmmakers (with few exceptions) have lacked the gumption to tackle the intricacies in the lives of people leading a physically or mentally maimed existence. The crippled are always barricaded in the periphery, like the character of ‘Kachara’ (garbage) in the microcosmic world of Oscar nominated ‘Lagaan’.

You rarely find the splash of realism, as the Hollywood is used to churning out at regular intervals in films like ‘Rain Man’, ‘My Left Foot’, ‘Scent of a Woman’, ‘Born on the Fourth of July’ and ‘A Beautiful Mind’. Here once in a while, a sensitive director like Gulzar wakes up to make a touching ‘Koshish’ (1972), Sai Paranjpe to make a poignant ‘Sprash’ (1984) or a Sanjay Leela Bhansali to make the ironically loud ‘Khamoshi – The Musical’ (1996).

These three movies portrayed life of the disabled realistically with varying degree of success. ‘Koshish’ tells a story of a deaf-mute couple played by Sanjeev Kumar and Jaya Bachchan, leading a secluded life and tackling so as to say the outside world. ‘Sprash’ on the other hand depicts the conflict between the worlds of able-bodied and the disabled. It brings out the complexes embedded in the minds of disabled as well as able-bodied with an unsentimental equilibrium. A nuanced performance from the ever dependable Naseerudin Shah playing a blind man gives an added exuberance to the film. ‘Khamoshi’ tries to give honest account of deaf-mute parents coming to terms with the musical aspirations of their grownup daughter. But somewhere you feel that the reality is eroded at the expense of aesthetic considerations. The beautiful music, an enviable star cast of Nana Patekar, Seema Biswas, Manisha Koirala and Salman Khan and the breathtaking locales of Goa somehow don’t rescue it from falling apart.

On the whole, Hindi films have always used deformity as a crutch to convey an extreme emotion, be it positive, negative, funny or sad. Remember the role played by Pran in Manoj Kumar’s ‘Upkaar’ (1967), the Good Samaritan with one leg, walking with help of a crutch. Or the vicious, tyrant, wheelchair bound husband of Zeenat Aman played by Danny in B. R. Chopra’s suspense-thriller ‘Dhund’ (1973). The comedy part is handled by the limping or stammering sidekick a la Shakti Kapoor.

One only hopes, that the emergence of the second new wave cinema aimed at the audience in the multiplexes of urban centres will find a few interesting stories about handicapped people. Who knows, in the near future we may have an Indian equivalent of Oscar winner Daniel Day-Lewis amidst us.

As appeared in Hindu Metro Plus

As appeared on British Film Institute’s website