Shakti Samanta centenary: ‘There wasn’t a moment when he wasn’t thinking of films’

Shakti Samanta (1926-2009) was from the era of Hindi cinema when film school meant a film set. This is where young men (they were nearly always young men) learn the intricacies of how to transform pages of writing into images that moved, spoke and produced feeling.

Samanta was an assiduous student, channelling his first exposure to filmmaking – editing – into a firm grasp of storytelling.

Between the 1950s and 1970s, Samanta rolled out films that are now regarded as evergreeners. Howrah Bridge, China Town, An Evening in Paris, Amar Prem, Aradhana, Kati Patang and Amanush are still remembered for their plots, characters, performances and music – and for making money, a prerequisite for survival in Bollywood.

Samanta worked at a time when directors had to be both formulaic and unique, conventional while also being extraordinary, entertaining even while upholding a sense of morality. Producing volume sometimes came at the expense of quality.

In this regard, Samanta distinguished himself, staying at the top of the pile by paying closer attention than most to the elements that constituted a successful movie. He directed leading actors, among them Ashok Kumar, Madhubala, Rajesh Khanna, Sharmila Tagore, Shammi Kapoor and Amitabh Bachchan.

Howrah Bridge (1958), a prominent example of Indianised film noir, has the iconic club song Aiye Meherbaan. Madhubala’s singer Edna dances into the frame and to the centre, the camera movements complementing her inviting visage and the come-hither lyrics.

At the climax of the film, the hero played by Ashok Kumar chases the villain through the steel struts of the Howrah Bridge.

Kashmir Ki Kali (1964) and An Evening in Paris (1967) were made at a time when cinema halls doubled up as portals to picturesque locations and giddy adventures. Aradhana (1969) is suffused with romance, peaking in the tremulous one-take song Roop Tera Mastana.

Kati Patang (1970), about an unfortunate woman who poses as a widow, acquires edginess through dramatic close-ups and relentless twists. Amar Prem (1971) is a love triangle like no other between a melancholic courtesan, her saintly patron and a cute boy.

In Amar Prem, RD Burman’s soulful tunes flow seamlessly from conversations. Samanta was blessed with an ear for music, the opportunity to work with some of the greatest composers in Hindi cinema and a skill for filming songs innovatively while ensuring that they took the story forward.

Hum Dono Do Premee in Ajnabee (1974) is filmed entirely on a moving train. In Kati Patang, a cabaret number performed by Bindu threatens to expose the heroine’s secret.

Some of Samanta’s Hindi films were simultaneously made in Bengali. Among them were Amanush (1975), starring Uttam Kumar, and Barsaat Ki Ek Raat (1981). Even after Samanta’s career wound down in the 1990s, he remained involved with showbiz, heading the Indian Motion Picture Producers Association and the Central Board of Film Certification.

“He remained aware of the evolution of technology,” said his son, filmmaker and dubbing director Ashim Samanta. Shakti Samanta was working right until he fell ill in 2009, Ashim Samanta adde.

“He went to the hospital from the office,” Ashim Samanta said. “Unfortunately, he got a stroke after he came back from the hospital, and he never quite recovered from it.” Samanta died on April 9, 2009, at the age of 83.

January 13 marks Shakti Samanta’s birth centenary. Thirty-two of Samanta’s productions, including movies directed by his son for the family banner Shakti Films, will be streamed on Ultra Play throughout January. In an interview, 71-year-old Ashim Samanta revisited his father’s formative years and his legacy. Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.

What are your earliest memories of Shakti Samanta?

My earliest memory is of when I was around four years old, watching the shoot of Howrah Bridge, which was Dad’s first home production. I used to re-enact the climax scene at home. I would climb onto the grill of the bedroom window with a side pillow and then hit the pillow. I was Ashok Kumar in that scene.

Ashok Kumar was one of the first people who guided Dad in the early years of his career. Dad had come to Bombay to be an actor. Ashok Kumar told him, why don’t you go into the technical line instead? He was the one Dad always turned to him for feedback.

I spent many of my summer holidays on film sets. I remember Kashmir Ki Kali well. I was nine years old at the time. The shoot took place in Srinagar, Sonmarg and Gulmarg. This was among the first films to show Kashmir so extensively.

Dad wrapped up the entire outdoor shoot in 25 days. He had a team of around 140 people. He was an expert in exploiting locations. He also made an effort to make things seem as natural as possible.

I remember the picturisation of Yeh Chand Sa Roshan Chera. All the women who played the flower girls with Sharmila Tagore were from Bombay. There was also a team of bhangra performers for the song Haay Re Haay.

Yeh Chand Sa Roshan Chera has a circling rhythm. We were shooting on Dal Lake. There were two sets of shikaras on either side. The moving shots were taken from motorboats that were moving in circles and were kept out of view. Dad also placed a camera on a tempo on the road from across the lake.

There are circling movements too in Roop Tera Mastana from Aradhana, to show the growing sexual attraction between the characters played by Rajesh Khanna and Sharmila Tagore. Why did Samanta shoot the song in a single take?

It wasn’t planned that way. What had happened was that after the song was recorded, Dad kept listening to it again and again, thinking about how it should be picturised.

The situation is that a fire is burning in a room, there is a couple, and there is thunder and lightning outside. What he found was that there no place to cut the song. If he had done so, the impact would have been lost. That’s why he decided to shoot it in one single take.

He also decided to use a round trolley. There were only two round trolleys in the industry. One belonged to Dev Anand, but Guru Dutt’s company had the bigger one – Guru Dutt had passed away by then.

Two lights were placed on this trolley. The rest of the lighting was from the top. And, the glow from the fire in the centre. He did a few technical rehearsals. On the day of the shoot, the very first shot was okay. He decided to take a safety shot, which went wrong. The third was fine. So in two complete takes, the song was done.

Mani Ratnam had once come over to our place. We ended up discussing Roop Tera Mastana. He said that he had tried to shoot a song in a single take twice, but the impact was nowhere close to Roop Tera Mastana.

I thought about it later. I think it’s because you are shooting a song in a single take just because you want to take one shot, not because the song demands it. In Roop Tera Mastana, the song demanded one take.

Did you talk to your father about his experiences, especially his formative years?

Yes, we spoke a lot, in so much detail that you can’t imagine.

In the late 1940s, Dad got introduced to somebody who said, I will hire you as an assistant but do you know editing? Dad didn’t, but he said that he did because he wanted the job desperately. He then caught a friend who was one of the busiest editors in the film industry at the time.

My father spent the next week or so at the editor’s studio. He watched five or six films being edited. He then assisted on Satish Nigam’s Sunhere Din [1949]. He later joined Phani Majumdar.

Gyan Mukherjee was also making films at the time. Guru Dutt was Gyan Mukherji’s first assistant; my dad was Phani Majumdar’s first assistant. Both became good friends. When Phani Majumdar’s film was completed, Dad went over to work on Gyan Mukherji’s film, and the other way around.

If you look at Guru Dutt and my dad, their filmmaking shared elements. They took a lot of close-ups. They captured the facial expressions. Both were experts at shooting songs. They took long takes and they didn’t cut very fast, so the impact was greater.

I have also observed this approach in the films of Raj Khosla, who was Guru Dutt’s assistant. Vijay Anand observed both Guru Dutt and Raj Khosla. So if you look at the films of my father and these three directors, you can see the similarities.

How did Shakti Samanta get his first directing break with Bahu in 1954?

Dad’s schooling and college were in Dehradun. So his Hindi was fantastic. He would watch films on the sly. He also did a lot of theatre in college. He played the flute well – that’s why his sense of music was so good.

When he joined Phani Majumdar and Gyan Mukherjee as an assistant, their Hindi wasn’t too good. They used to write scenes in Bengali, which Dad would translate into Hindi. That also explains why the dialogue was precise in his own films. He would rewrite scenes too sometimes.

Vrajendra Gaur was a close friend and a writer. He was supposed to direct two films, but he could do only one. He said, Shakti, direct the film. That was Bahu.

The songwriter SH Bihari, who was Dad’s friend, said a builder he knew wanted to make a movie. Bihari told Dad, you are close to Ashok Kumar, so you can get him for the film. The producer wants to spend only one lakh.

My father was advised to wing it, to accept the movie and increase the budget afterwards. But he didn’t want to lie. He was frank with the builder, and told him that it wouldn’t be possible to make the film in a lakh. He advised the builder to take a more reputed director.

That builder was Abdul Karim Nadiadwala, whose grandson is Sajid Nadiadwala. Mr Nadiadwala said, you are an honest man, and you will make a movie for my banner Pushpa Pictures.

The film was the crime thriller Inspector, starring Ashok Kumar and Geeta Bali. It did well. Dad became good friends with Geeta Bali, who was dating Shammi Kapoor. Then my dad made Singapore with Shammi Kapoor.

Your father had an enviable track record – his films were critically appreciated and successful too. What made his films so popular?

Firstly, his stories and screenplays were very interesting, whether the films did well or not. This is true of all good filmmakers – some of their films might not be good in totality, but they are fantastic in parts.

His filmmaking and shot taking seemed very simple. But it’s when I saw it on the screen that I realised how complicated the whole thing was. It was brilliantly done in such a way that you didn’t realise what was happening.

The editing foundation was solid. He had a very good sense of how to create a hook in the beginning. For example, Aradhana begins with a courtroom scene in which Sharmila Tagore’s character is sentenced to life imprisonment for murder. People are left wondering, who did she murder?

Kati Patang too has a brilliant screenplay. Amanush was another brilliant film. The screenplay and characterisation are fabulous. It became a super success even though Uttam Kumar’s previous film in Hindi hadn’t worked.

Dad had good casting. The music in every film was very good. But even if you remove all the songs, the film is good.

One film I would like to mention here is Aayash [1982]. When the first copy came out, both Dad and I felt that the film wouldn’t work at all. That’s what happened – the film bombed.

After several years, the chief of Doordarshan told Dad, if you reduce your films to two hours, they can be shown in a special slot on the channel. He decided to edit his films. The first film was Ayaash. He cut out all the songs. For the first time, I liked Ayaash very much – it was the songs that were dragging the film down.

Not only were the songs excellent, but Shakti Samanta also filmed them with flair. In Aasman Se Aaya Farishta from An Evening in Paris, Shammi Kapoor’s character sings while hanging from a helicopter while Sharmila Tagore’s character is on a water ski below.

An Evening in Paris also gave viewers in 1967 a free tour of France. How did Samanta pull it off?

I wasn’t on vacation when this particular film was being made, so I couldn’t go for the shoot. In any case, given the restrictions on foreign travel and forex being what they were at the time, it would have been difficult to go.

An Evening in Paris was shot with a crew of only 18 people along with local lighting technicians. Dad used very few lights – he told the cameraman who was complaining, see how European films are shot in the outdoors in natural light.

Aasman Se Aaya Farishta was shot across France and Canada but mainly in Beirut. Shammi uncle told me the story of how it was filmed.

Shammi Kapoor heard the song and said, Shakti, it will be great if I turn up in a helicopter. Dad said, yes, indeed. Having suggested the idea, Shammi uncle wondered, I have vertigo problems, can I do this? And how will Dad arrange for a helicopter, that too in Beirut?

On the day of the shoot, Shammi uncle landed up and there was the helicopter. He said to himself, I am Shammi Kapoor, I have to do this. He went to the hotel bar – it was the morning – and got the manager to give him two shots of brandy.

If you look carefully at the song, there’s a continuity jump. There are a few shots of women standing on top of other women – those shots are from a show in Canada. They were spliced into the song.

The helicopter was so noisy that Shammi Kapoor found it difficult to give the lip sync. Dad had a handkerchief in his hand to signal roll and cut. Shammi Kapoor had an extraordinary sense of rhythm. He could see Dad’s face. Dad would mouth the words in an exaggerated way, open his mouth wide so that Shammi uncle could follow him without listening to the song.

In Amar Prem too, the songs are woven seamlessly into the narrative. Amar Prem, starring Sharmila Tagore, Rajesh Khanna and the child actor Bobby, is one of Shakti Samanta’s most accomplished and beloved movies.

It’s one of his best films. It’s also one of my all-time favourite films, alongside Pyaasa, Bandini and Anand.

I was already working with him at the time. He had read Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s story Hinger Kochuri and he loved it. Then he learnt that there was already a Bengali adaptation, Nishi Padma, so he bought the rights to the film.

Dad decided to pay Bibhutibhushan even though he had already paid the producer. Bibhutibhushan was ailing at the time. He cried when Dad gave him the money. I think that blessing is what made Amar Prem an evergreen film.

The film is set in Calcutta, and had very realistic sets. It was shot for a maximum of 40 days. The story, the songs, the dialogue, everything was fabulous.

It’s basically a film about relationships, which is also there in Pyaasa. Relationship-based stories are always fantastic. The emotions are what play well. That’s also why Korean films and shows are so popular. I dub a lot of Korean shows, and they feel similar to films from the 1960s.

Shakti Samanta appears to have been a risk-taker. He was only 31 when he set up his company, Shakti Films. Did all of his risks pay off, especially in the 1980s?

Ayaash [1982] didn’t fare well. That was a big jolt for him. Although the Bengali version of Aar Paar [1985] was a hit, the Hindi version was zero.

Geetanjali [1993] didn’t fare well either. His last Bengali film Devdas [2002] flopped too. He had wanted to make it even though I told him not to, especially since Sanjay Leela Bhansali was making one in Hindi with Shah Rukh Khan. But he felt that the Bengali audiences would like it.

He was quite the adventurer. He was never bitter. He was involved with so many industry organisations – the censor board, IMPAA, a welfare trust for the film industry, the Satyajit Ray Film and Television Institute. He was also closely involved with my films and television serials.

I had started dubbing films in 1986. In 1993, my company Aradhana Films dubbed the first Hollywood film in Hindi, Jurassic Park.

Whenever people would come to know that I am Shakti Samanta’s son, I would get VIP treatment. He was a hugely recognised director. And his films continue to be in circulation.

He was crazy about filmmaking. He was always surrounded by his writers, music directors and lyricists. There wasn’t a moment when he wasn’t thinking of films. His life was totally filmmaking and nothing else.