Two movies 18 years apart, set in distinctly different social landscapes yet so similar. Two conformists, two rebels and two mothers representing old school idealism. A lot is common between Mother India of 1957 and Deewaar of 1975. The most important, however, is the portrayal of the rebel. Looking back at the iconic characters of Birju, played by Sunil Dutt in the former, and Vijay by Amitabh Bachchan in the latter from an age where the idea of rebellion is as good as dead or at best a foolish indulgence of the incurable romantic, both stand out in a unique way.
Birju’s rebellion, more impulsive, raw and bereft of consideration of consequence, is an act of defiance against the power of the moneylender in an agrarian world, Vijay’s is a more deliberate and calculated response to injustice against the underclass in an urbanising India. Both originate in personal angst against usual villains in the respective landscape. The exploitative moneylender – Sukhi Lala in Mother India – still exists in rural India, as does Samant, the mover and shaker of the underworld in the urban universe. Only the larger India has learnt to accept them as normal.
As Deewaar completes its 50th year, still eliciting glowing praise from viewers, a comparison with the timeless classic Mother India is in order. Despite a gap of close to two decades both movies represent the constants and the change in the Indian society like no other movie. Both take off from family tragedies where the patriarchs depart early leaving the burden of raising the children on the mothers. Radha (Nargis Dutt) and Sumitra (Nirupa Roy) are hardy characters in their own way, toughened by the struggle they endure.
They make no departure from the idea of the good, just and noble. When one of their children strays into the undesirable path, they take a call that syncs with their moral uprightness. Birju’s death at the hands of his mother is an act of justice and Vijay’s death at the hands of his brother after his rejection by the mother is a symbolic victory of the moral order. Those were the times when social deviants may be liked to some degree but not celebrated as heroes like today.
Birju and Vijay are products of bitter experiences in personal life and of adverse social circumstances. When they veer into the world of crime their backstories bring up the justification. Their anger and cynicism evoke empathy. Vijay is the shrewder of the two, clear about his way through the darkness he was descending into, and possibly the consequences. Birju was raw, an explosive package of anger with a tendency to be reckless. But you cannot help empathising with them.
The movies diverge at several points. Mother India reflected the innocence of the post-independence decade, where idealism – embodied by the mother – still had hope, not so the case with Deewaar. The younger brother Ravi, played by Shashi Kapoor, represents idealism here, which is juxtaposed with Vijay’s disregard for it. In the morally confused 1970s, when the marginalisation and misery of the working class went together with the growing lucrativeness of crime. Crime was a choice available to the ones willing to take the risk and the society didn’t necessarily condone it.
It was a commentary on the moral dilemmas regarding idealism that continue to resonate in our society even now. It helped that the characters were sketched brilliantly by the Salim-Javed duo and received energetic portrayal from the intense and brooding Amitabh Bachchan.
Idealism at their core, there’s a reason why both movies are iconic.
(By arrangement with Perspective Bytes)
