DEB MUKHERJEE

Deb (IMDB profile) is the lesser known brother of Joy Mukherjee, who was king, or rather queen, of all the pancake-coated effeminate warbling protagonists in Hindi films of the 60's. He had a short unsuccessful stint trying to follow in his brother's footsteps and never elicited much remark through his string of sparse and sporadic acting appearances over the decades, but he deserves to be given the rightful respect by camp cinema lovers for two of his efforts that stand tall in this pantheon.

Haiwan (1977)

Haiwan (monster) is the mother of psychological mind-benders in Hindi film history. The plot outline supplied at IMDB (by yours truly) reads "A maniac serial killer on the prowl, hunting assorted nubile lasses. A mentally unstable ex-army officer who is an utter misogynist. Are they the same man?" This diabolical concept is in itself a gripper, but Deb Mukherjee's uniquely skewed vision takes it to altogether another level. A small note: the official director of this remarkable gem is one Ram Rano, but given that Mr. Rano's resume at IMDB features no other credits, and the striking similarity of approach to Mukherjee's later landmark Karate, one is persuaded to presume that Ram Rano was essentially a figure-head for the camp genius that is Deb Mukherjee.

Caps from Haiwan's opening credits sequence, which appears to include shots of (Click to enlarge):

1) Random guy looking through binoculars 2) A couple of kids staring uneasily in the darkness 3) Firangis frolicking on a beach

4) Bikini-clad woman NOT on a beach 5) Random fat and fucking ugly kid 6) Some remnant princely state scion, I guess

7) Typical Bollywood 'pahadi'romance movie shot 8) Janmashtami dahi handi pyramid 9) Sickly lions in some zoo 

Right from the opening credits sequence, the film signals its aim of altering your thought process. That aim is almost immediately achieved in the next sequence where, in a super-duper special appearance, Joy Mukherjee in vaguely military garb looking like he was beginning to heavily pay for the sins of his lipstick years, introduces a cheerful dangling skeleton as the Haiwan. Kicking off with a fascinating dissertation on humankind's obsession with murderers and psychopaths (which apparently led to the creation of such fictional monsters as 'Jekyll & Hyde, Dracula and Hitler'), he gives us explicit details with flashbacks of the killer's story including his origin, motive and modus operandi…everything except his actual identity, the quest for which serves as the film's thrust.

Deb Mukherjee stars as the majorly misogynistic Major who could also be the tit-fixated titular 'Haiwan'. Kudos should be given to him for a super-charged performance in which almost every scene has him looking like he is ready to go postal. Then again, the absolute haywire flow of the plot (and the incredible quotient of over-ripe ugly women in this film trying to pass off as nubile lasses) would go some way in achieving that effect. Linear storytelling, this is not.

What really sells Haiwan is its almost 'French New Wave' style of presentation. Sequences are arranged in a staccato pattern, appearing to have been pieced in from a shooting schedule that stretched over years (and not necessarily for the same film). Very often, locations shift without notice and night goes to day and back again, all in the space of what is supposed to be a single scene. Time and Space are treated with the mutability only a true (or in these days of the internet, tr00) artist can conceive.

Factor in the brilliantly choreographed and captured 'Haiwan' attack sequences with their challenging dissonant patterns (with frequent cuts to paintings of blood-dripping black cats) and the overall effect is that of having gone through 16 straight hours of Pink Floyd's Piper at The Gates of Dawn.

Karate (1983)

Not to demean Deb Mukherjee in any manner, but if you put this effort alongside any of the golden era Mithun starrers by B. Subhash, you would be hard-pressed to tell them apart, and that is because Karate comes of the same pedigree of camp goodness as classics Disco Dancer and Dance Dance...actually a little better.

Eagerly faithful to its name, Karate starts off with an arresting display of what must be deliberately inept karate by a couple of kids on the beach. They are watched for a long time by loving Mom who finally decides to ask Dad “Aap Scientist hokar bachchon ko karate padha rahe hain! (You're a Scientist and you're teaching the kids Karate!)”, the implication being that Scientists should by nature abhor violence – curious, given that considerable scientific acumen would have gone into the making of the bronze spear, gunpowder and the atomic bomb. Curious, also because this particular scientist just put together a diamond that can focus light to burn up any object. Quite the pacifist ain't he.

The local goon (Kadar Khan) decides to get a hold of the diamond for his diabolical deeds, and this leads to the trademark Bollywood chain of events including the separation of the kid brothers, their growing separately into karate chumps (Mithun Chakraborty and Deb Mukherjee, respectively), discovery of their history and subsequent confrontation with the baddie.

So far so hum, but again this is a Deb Mukherjee vehicle and he puts up an enjoyable show here with abrupt splicing and not-in-the-least-bit-digestible contrivance that would leave most avant garde music video makers disoriented. Suffice to say, Mithun and his lady love running from a gypsy village to Ballard pier in the context of a single chase is but the least of these audacious maneuvers.. Throw in sequences like Mazhar Khan as the homosexual Muslim friend of Deb Mukherjee that keeps demanding to be hugged (is that a reference to the minority communities' demand for favored treatment), one where two women fight over Deb hands tied & daggers in their mouths and then go on to perform sexual gymnastics hanging upside down from ropes, one where Deb fashions an impromptu nun-chak from a pair of telephone receivers, and heavens, even a frequently reprised song sequence dedicated to the title motif, replete with somersaults and katas, and you have more fun than a rolling barrel of monkeys.

"Karate...karate...KARAATAY!"

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