Didwania, Anshuman -- Deewar

            Deewar, which is most notable for having introduced the “angry young man”, Amitabh Bachchan to Indian cinema, is a very interesting follow-up to Mother India, as it compares numerous issues – not just the evolution/devolution of motherhood and its portrayal in Indian cinema, but also the elements of good versus bad through fraternal lenses. The narrative, which supposedly has roots in the realities of Bombay in the 1970s, is shot and depicted very vividly – Bombay comes alive on the big screen, as RD Burman’s score is a solid complement to the fast-paced action on the screen. The costume design appears to be very elaborate and well-thought of (including the reference to the 786 “billa”), and are integral to the development of the characters – the white saree representing the widowed mother, the double-breasted suits representing the prodigal but well-off son Vijay, the khakhi uniform representing the police officer Ravi, and the Western outfits representing the modern-day liberated woman, Anita. However, beyond the cinematography and direction, the key themes that stood out for me were:

·         Law and Order in the 70s in India

·         The Anchor of Motherhood in the Indian Household

Law and Order in the 70s in India

            The 1970s were a turbulent time for post-colonial India, as it was reeling through an emergency that imposed by Indira Gandhi. Additionally, India was not only battling post-colonial integration, but was also fighting wars with China and would soon wage one with Pakistan as well – the country was in major turmoil, and this was reflected in the national sentiment best channeled through the youth of the nation, and highlighted by the student protests and movements of the era (depicted in other Bollywood movies like Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi. The frustrations with the lack of growth and progress, is seen in Vijay (and to a smaller extent Ravi) as they struggle to reconcile with the nepotism, corruption and lack of governance and transparency in the country, particularly as middle-class or lower-middle class members of the society. What is interesting to see is how both Vijay and Ravi take different paths to deal with this dilemma, the dichotomy of which keeps getting reflected in Indian cinema, but within different eras and different contexts.

The Anchor of Motherhood in the Indian Household

            While Mother India was the primary movie that propelled motherhood to on-screen relevance in Indian cinema, Deewar solidified the role of the mother as the anchor of the Indian household, where decision-making powers and true unwavering principles really rested. The mother continued to become, and even strengthened, as the symbol of resilience, of loyalty and of virtue (almost embodied by Plato’s Cardinal Virtues of fortitude, justice, temperance and wisdom). Sumitra Devi, as someone who bore the brunt of the estranged, shamed, failed nature of the household brought upon by weak husbands, does not shun her responsibilities like her other half, but perseveres. Eventually, she’s able to construct a stable household for her children, but even once she’s reached her goals of “giving a good life” to her children, she continues to play a major role in their lives as they grow up and start crafting lives for themselves. It becomes most evident when she condemns Vijay to a life of misery, and authorizes Ravi to follow the course of law and kill Vijay if needed – a precursor to this action coming true, as Vijay dies in her arms in the temple that he swore never to visit.  

Response for Deewar - Aishwarya Vardhana

    Koushik Banerjea's “Fight Club: Aesthetics, Hybridisation, and the Construction of Rogue Masculinities in Sholay and Deewaar” supports an analysis which suggests the hybridization of the man Amitabh Bachchan with the character Vijay from Deewaar to create a new space within Indian cinema which explores the intersection of the personal (i.e. the man behind the character) and the public (i.e. the character) to create a new kind of aesthetic and cultural project which celebrates and sells the art found in the lives of average men. This “aestheticization of everyday life’ is not only a product of the technological advancements of the twentieth century and the socio-political climate of postcolonial India but a direct result of India’s first big stars like Amitabh Bachchan imbuing their roles with their own personality and background.

    The rise of movie stars and movie star culture forever changed the perception of on-screen characters. The personality and spirit of characters within movies no longer existed independent of the of the acto. The power, personality and context of Bachchan permeates every role he plays. When watching Deewaar the audience sees beyond the singular character of Vijay. We see Amitabh Bachchan playing the part of Vijay. As Banerjea writes “his actual caste and class affiliation operates in stark contrast to the harsh social milieu of his angry young film icon”. Bachchan is far removed from the struggles of the lower/middle class of India, much less a survivor of a fatherless, slum childhood, however the Indian audience makes him their hero but not as Amitabh Bachchan or as Vijay, but as a hybrid of the two. The air of nonchalance and unbreakable confidence is bred in someone with Bachchan’s background and his ability to adapt this aura he possesses into the role of Vijay and make such a hybrid believable is what makes the aestheticization of everyday life possible.

    It is interesting to explore whether this appropriation of the struggles of the lower/middle class by Bachchan and movie directors/producers lends itself to greater harm or aid to the lower/middle class. While Deewar gives a face and story to the millions of poor working men of India whose core self is lost in the struggle to survive within the metropolis it also distracts the lower/middle class from confronting the systemic causes of their poverty and lack of social mobility, simplifies the nuances of the larger struggle, and romanticizes the experiences of India’s poor in the postcolonial state. Amitabh Bachchan is neither an activist, community organizer, entrepreneur or politician; he is no hero for India’s poor and yet films like Deewar allow him to be. I find it troubling that he should profit from the poverty and difficulties of others whilst doing nothing to eradicate said poverty. It could even be argued that Bachchan and films like Deewar cause more harm than help to poor communities of India. These films provide India’s lower/middle class with false hope and an unaffordable escape. Deewar serves as a dangerous anesthesia against the structural injustices and cyclic violence its biggest fans must face.

Deewar Response

Deewaar Response

            Throughout the film Deewaar, director Yash Chopra artfully depicts the life of a Bombay family in the midst of the social and political turmoil of India circa the 1970s. Chopra’s motivation for the film is clear: he is exploring the delicate nature of familial bonds—both how they are strengthened as well as tested during times of conflict. Chopra examines how a “deewaar” (wall) can be formed within a family itself, and how these family bonds are both intricate as well as fragile. To do so, Chopra takes inspiration from several of the thematic elements of another classic film: Mother India. In my response, I will do a comparative analysis of the two films and discuss how the films’ thematic similarities are used to send different messages. I will further consider the metaphorical “deewaar” that is created several times throughout the film, and analyze how Chopra uses this motif to examine the delicate nature of familial bonds in India at the time.

            The similarities between Deewaar and Mother India are abundant; indeed, throughout the film, it becomes increasingly clear that Chopra was inspired by Khan’s Mother India when creating the foundation for Deewar. First and foremost, both films center on the role of a strong, independent maternal character who is forced to take on an extra burden when the father of the house is shamed into running away. It is important, however, to note some key differences. In Mother India, this transformation of the mother from a meek subservient housewife to the primary breadwinner of the family and leader of the village is absolutely integral for the film; amongst many other reasons, it is used by Khan to argue for greater autonomy and independence of women in India. In Deewaar, however, this is not the case. The transformation of Sumitra is far less pronounced, and Chopra is certainly not arguing for the elevated social status of women in India. Instead, Chopra borrows this thematic similarity from Khan to add the first of several wrinkles in the family dynamics, a theme which Chopra explores in great detail throughout the film.

By casting Sumitra as the sole parental figure in the film, Chopra is better able to accentuate the effect of the “deewaar” that is created between members of the family later on in the film. Indeed, in one key scene in the film, we see Ravi and Vijay taking different paths to work as their mother stands in the middle of them at the foot of the temple. This is the symbolic representation of the different paths in life that each boy takes, as their mother stands in the middle of them, torn between each but still maintaining her faith in God (incidentally, God is another recurring motif shared between the two films). By portraying Sumitra as a single parent, Chopra is better able to amplify the negative effect that the conflicting brothers have on the dynamics of the family. Indeed, in both films, the “bad” brother dies in the arms of the mother—in Mother India, this is used to solidify Radha’s strength and conviction as the leader of the village; in Deewaar, it is used to show how deep rooted family issues can result in disaster.

Yet another striking similarity between the two films is seen in the personalities of the two children. In Mother India, there is a sharp contrast between Birju, the hotheaded troublemaker, and Ramu, the cool and collected foil to Birju. Similarly, in Deewaar, there is a central conflict between Vijay, the feisty outlaw, and Ravi, the mild-mannered moralistic police officer. Yet, in Mother India, the contrast between the two boys only exists to further Radha’s role as the final arbitrator. The boys are primarily defined based on their relation to their mother—most of their actions are examined in light of how Radha responds to them. In Mother India, the theme of family dynamics is not being explored nearly as much as the theme of women empowerment (through Radha) is. Yet, in Deewar, this contrast between the two brothers is necessary for the plot of the film; it acts as the impetus for the central conflict in the film. The fundamental differences between the two brothers is the basis for the “deewaar” in the family, and Chopra exploits these differences to test the delicate nature of familial bonds.

Mother India and Deewaar are complementary films in nature due to both the thematic similarities as well as the larger social questions that each attempts to answer. Mother India broaches the topic of family bonds; Deewaar explores that topic in great detail. Mother India introduces the idealized concept of a strong, independent maternal figure in film; Deewar answers the question of just how far such a figure can be pushed before finally cracking.

Deewar Reflection: The "Bad" Son, Vijay vs. Birju

            At first glance, the good son/bad son plot of Deewar seems to resemble the example set by Mother India quite a bit, from the telltale signs during childhood to the final scenes of mother holding dying son in arms. However, there are key differences that result in two very different films. One very important one is where viewer alliance is made to rest. Throughout the latter half of Mother India, it is clear to most that Birju’s actions are unjust. On the other hand, Deewar, as a film, seems to present Vijay’s illegal actions in a less serious light. How does this contrast arise? After all, both have very similar justifications for their actions, believing the extent to which their family had been wronged enough to warrant their chosen paths.

            Why then, did I find myself so much more sympathetic toward Vijay? Perhaps it is as simple as the nature of the criminal activity. In comparison to Birju’s murder and kidnapping, smuggling seems like a relatively victimless crime. Perhaps it is the fact that Vijay fully intends to turn his life around upon learning Anita is pregnant, and I believe him. Even before this point though, I found myself internally rooting for Vijay over Ravi – a very sharp distinction from Mother India.

            I think one of the most significant factors contributing to this the choice of main characters in the two films. Whereas Radha was always the first and foremost moral compass and focus of Mother India, Deewar was much more centered upon Vijay, his mother or brother taking supporting roles. It is interesting to think that a focus on Birju could have so drastically altered our opinions about the end, but I think it could have. In both films, we know that the mothers are very much against the activities of their respective “bad sons” – it’s almost just as if we care more when Radha expresses her disapproval. Her words hold more weight with us because of her importance as an epic hero, representative of India itself and morally infallible as a result. As much as viewers can be happy to see Radha with her bangles back on her wrists, our approval of what Birju has done is immediately removed when she expresses her own dismay. When Ravi’s and Vijay’s mother, Sumitra, learns of Vijay’s smuggling, she is equally horrified. However, Deewar is Vijay’s story, not Sumitra’s – that’s how it is presented. We haven’t seen the faces of any innocents Vijay has harmed through his illegal activity (besides Samant), only the happy lifestyle he’s been able to provide his mother after she has suffered so much. Sumitra’s and Ravi’s objections, though they are essentially the same as Radha’s, are undeniably less effective on me.

            Other than the morality of the specific characters involved though, the general tones of the 2 films effect response to the featured conflicts as well. Deewar is rather campy throughout, featuring over the top fight scenes and a main character too suave for his own good. Compared to the stirring, epic, melodramatic style of Mother India, the story told in Deewar never seems to command as much gravitas – it’s as though it doesn’t take itself as seriously. This, in many ways, leads to a more enjoyable movie in terms of entertainment, but it also contributes to viewers’ ability to side with Vijay. Because the entirety of the film is less serious, it’s more difficult to take his crimes as seriously as we might in a more realistic movie.

Consider the long, cherished film history of Batman. The Joker could kidnap people in the campy 60’s TV show, but he always remained a loveable, laughable villain. In the recent Dark Knight film, the Joker comes across as a horrible, disturbed man just by nature of the film’s more serious, realistic tone. To some extent, this the difference that separates Vijay and Birju. Their crimes are granted the moral seriousness of the movies in which they are committed, leaving Vijay in a much better light when things are said and done.    

Deewar Reflection

            Directed by Yash Chopra, Deewar depicts the life of a family in Bombay, set against the backdrop of the socioeconomic turmoil of 1970s India. In a time when illegal smuggling was particularly rampant, Chopra presents that the landscape wasn’t one of objective morality by creating nuanced, complex characters. He motivates the choices of Vijay to be products of the power structures he's slave to, which resultantly shifts the blame from the individual. After watching Deewar, Chopra causes the viewer to be sympathetic to both smugglers and workers alike, as he refuses to draw black and white lines of morality.

            Deewar was filmed in the 1970s, a time when India was still struggling to cement its national identity. There was growing unrest among the people, and Indira Gandhi was turning to more drastic measures to try to keep the country under control. Bose described the power dynamic during Gandhi’s tenure as Prime Minister as a “structural contradiction” (187). Her tenure was marked by political appointments only of those she knew were loyal to her, a nepotism that hinders Ravi on his job search. Over and over again, Chopra highlights inherent corruption in overarching systems and uses it to motivate Vijay in particular and present him in a relatable light.

            Vijay’s actions are always viewed from the vantage point of his childhood. We see him deeply affected by his tattoo, a side effect that trickled down from the capitalist greed and dishonesty that was his father’s downfall. Then we again see him deeply affected by the horrible treatment of his mother after she accidentally tripped and dropped bricks, a reaction that was again the result of industrial greed. He continually resurfaces and mentions these incidents, which reminds the viewer of his motivations.

            By the framing of shots, Chopra showcases Vijay and other characters’ decisions to be products of their environment. Often, in a moment of realization, music would build up, and the camera would almost freeze for a few seconds on a close up of that character. For example, when Vijay first decided he was going to stand up against the mafia at the docks, there was a prolonged shot of his face. This forced the viewer to directly acknowledge his train of thought and note the root of his decisions. This connection to the character, this moment of “brooding, inward-looking, yet outwardly-searching vulnerability” witnessed, causes the viewer to identify more strongly with Vijay (Mazumdar, 243).  

            Deewar also appeared to pay homage to Mother India. The latter film explored similar morally ambiguous waters to Deewar; it too toyed with the concepts of trying to explore what is unjust when fighting injustice and corruption. Since Mother India was such a defining movie of its era and still one of India’s greatest box-office hits, Chopra could have expected much of his audience to be familiar with the plot of Mother India. Chopra demonstrates that the same questions and corrupt power structures that exist in villages endure after industrial progress, and that the backdrop of skyscrapers doesn’t mean anything has fundamentally changed. By creating a movie so similar to Mother India, Chopra is able to piggyback off that film, so that the audience’s emotional response to Deewar and Vijay is tied to that of Mother India and Birju. The strong emotional connection to Vijay elicits sympathy to his cause, and therefore shifts anger from the individual smugglers to the sphere in which they operate.

            Overall, Chopra’s crafting of the film yielded a moral grey space, which Vijay primarily occupied. Banerjea summed this up well, stating that Vijay was “a noble figure straddling the very limits of legality, pushed too far by the shadowy forces…and laissez-faire corruption” (170). As a result of this straddling of morality, the audience was left thinking about how to best react to injustice and left with a greater appreciation for alternate points of view.

Deconstructing “Wall” symbolism and social implications in Deewar

(Also posted in Coursework dropbox in case it isn't properly rendered here / it is easier to read in paper format)

Deconstructing “Wall” symbolism and social implications in Deewar 
(Film + Reading Response)

Released amidst the sociopolitical turmoil affecting India in the 1970’s, Yash Chopra’s classic film Deewar tells the story of two brothers, a cop (Ravi) and a smuggler (Vijay), and how their relationship evolves over time, ultimately ending in the Vijay’s tragic death. Though the story itself is focused on these two main characters and the titular deewar that forms between them, by analyzing the presence of the physical and metaphorical “wall” throughout the film and synthesizing this with the readings, we can observe strong social themes emerge from the film’s narrative. Indeed, by deconstructing this “wall” symbolism—of both physical and metaphorical walls present in the film—we can explore themes of social importance such as the role of social labeling, education, and economic status on crime, and the understanding the morality of crime in a corrupted society.

From the title sequence itself it is clear that the idea of the “wall” is a key element to the storyline, since Deewar translates directly to “the wall”. On one level, it represents "the wall" that is the growing divide between the two brothers, as one pursues a corrupt path to wealth and the other pursues a more traditionally ethical path to justice. We can trace this evolution throughout the film: At the start of the film, the two brothers are shown to be very close together — as evident in the scene where the two boys are sleeping on their mother’s lap under a bridge; Later in the film, during the first scene after they are grown up, we notice the two brothers physically going on two different paths in a fork in the road, foreshadowing how much the two will diverge eventually; Towards the end, this relationship diverges completely as illustrated in the key “mere paas ma hai” scene, where the two are juxtaposed with their backs together and the conflict is highlighted in a a dramatic fashion through the fast cuts/pacing between close-up face shots, the dramatic contrast in lighting, and the choice of setting, which was the same bridge where they slept under as children.

However, this "walled" relationship between them contains much greater social implications for the turbulent 1970's in Indian history, with regard to socio political issues. Though they were raised together under that bridge, their divergence in paths starts with the "your father is a thief" branding itself — a traumatic experience which only Vijay undergoes, and Ravi is spared from. Such traumatic events often leave victims feeling shock and isolation, as evidenced by Vijay’s speechlessness after the event; his actions thereafter serve to build a sort of defensive emotional wall. More broadly, this branding and the subsequent actions Vijay takes in pursuit of this wall could metaphorically represent how the label of "being a thief" can eventually lead one to become one, and further elucidates the impact of intergenerational relationships on crime. The "tattoo as a scar" is a recurring motif throughout the film, and can also be interpreted as a symbol of the impact of what happens when the sanctified barrier/wall of a stable home is broken and the implications that last through adulthood (Mazmudar 248). 

This wall is further developed and constructed with the presence of the wall that separates the nearby school grounds from the street. As a child, Vijay makes sacrifices so Ravi is able to cross this wall and gain an education. Furthermore, by having the patriotic song “Saare Jahaan Se Achaa, Hindustan Amaara” we associate obtaining this education with patriotism and the virtuous path; the “extra-diegetic” nature of this is noted in the reading (Banerjea 171). In fact, this patriotic song is also present in the same extra-diegetic form prior to the key “mere paas ma hai” scene, when Ravi is waiting for his brother to meet him and promptly fades when Vijay arrives in the car, further drawing the contrast between the two. The social implications of this are perhaps best realized when Ravi visits the family of the boy he shot and the mother berates him while the father calmly agrees with him, saying that his wife is "uneducated" and doesn't understand that the smaller crimes cannot be justified by the bigger ones. The father states, “Theft is a theft. Whether of a penny or 1,00,000/-!…Millions die of hunger in India. Should they all become thieves?” Thus, the physical wall/gate present at the school metaphorically represents the wall between those who are educated and those who aren't, and that though it may seem fine to justify a crime in a corrupt society, it is morally wrong and unpatriotic to do so. 

This idea of a wall as a separation between actions of different morality is particularly developed in the key scene from the climax, where Vijay’s badge labeled “786” falls across the wall/gate at the climax, and this wall prevents Vijay from regaining possession of it. The badge and the number itself have religious implications, and could suggest that honest work (such as laboring in the shipyard, where he originally obtained it) is sanctified. One question that comes to mind here is, why then did the badge save Vijay’s life several times during his descent into the crime world? In the reading, Mazmudar mentions that this symbol is a "fetish" which is characteristic of a psychotic hero (here, Vijay), and represents how his link with the past protects him, until this final break (Mazmudar 249). However, this interpretation doesn’t directly factor in the significance of a major turning point in the plot: when Vijay asks God to save his mother and have Vijay pay for his own sins, rather than making his mother do so. Considering this, an additional interpretation of this scene could be that Vijay, a sympathetic character representing what the audience idealizes as the empowered common man (endowed with a “masculine”, superhero-like charisma as noted in the reading (Banerjea)), should in fact suffer his burden and not have his mother (which could symbolize the country as a whole) pay for his crimes — that the wall is definitively separating Vijay’s crimes and murder of Samant as inexcusable, though they may seem “right” in his mind, and perhaps even our own. Several parallels drawn in the academic literature and in class between Deewar and Mother India further strengthen this interpretation. Thus, the wall in this scene further cements its symbolic power as something which serves as a moral divide.

The “wall” and its symbolic value are truly well-integrated and utilized throughout the film. In each instance, whether the wall is physically present in the mise-en-scène (as it is in the climax scene), or symbolically present (as it is in the divide between generations, emotions, and familial relationships), its presence has tremendous potential for social commentary on India’s turbulent 70’s era — one in which questions of morality and impact of societal labeling were being questioned by all strata of society. Indeed, there are additional aspects to this imagery which are not directly discussed here, but are saved for perhaps the in-class discussion — one such being the wall as a symbol for separation between different socioeconomic classes in India, and whether it represents a protective barrier or an inescapable prison wall. Regardless, Chopra’s integration of this symbolism is a powerful rhetorical and film-making strategy, and enables widespread understanding of his key messages.

Deewar: tracing the social unrest in the 1970s

Many might view Deewar as a family melodrama, while many others might think of it as an action-thriller. A deeper analysis, however, reveals the movie to be a strong representation of the social issues and unrest in the 1970s. Inspired by real incidents and stories, Yash Raj, the producer of the film, seems to highlight the pitiable condition of the working class, the exploitation at the hands of the rich and the powerful, widespread unemployment, state control during the national emergency and corruption rampant during this period. Many elements of the movie are also borrowed from the 1931 Hollywood classic, The Public Enemy.

Right at the beginning of the flashback, Anand Babu's strong speech to the striking poor workers highlights the lack of provision of even the most basic of needs, such as education, healthcare and housing. His remark, "we are just asking why the food barrels are empty for the poor", seems to have a direct reference to the food shortage after the 1972-73 drought and to grain traders, who had hoarded large amounts of grain to accentuate the existing shortage and had created an artificial scarcity in order to make an extra buck. The kidnapping of his family to compel him to give in to trader's demands, is suggestive of the unprecedented lawlessness during the period, often perpetuated at the behest of state power. After betraying the working class for his family, Anand Babu deserts his family and city out of shame, and we see the trial and tribulations of a poor single mother, who is reprimanded even for the most trivial of mistakes. This also reflects the class differences at that time, with the upper class looking out for opportunities to humiliate the lower classes. Vijay's character is also emblematic of the frustrated working class, with circumstances and constant humiliation making him the person he becomes-rebellious and full of resentment and hatred for the powerful and the rich. As a young shoe-polish boy, he refuses to accept money that is "thrown" at him rather than handed to him, which is symbolic of the mindset of a large fraction of the working class at that time, who demanded respect and equal opportunities. Vijay's revolt against religion is also noteworthy, as "religion" here bears the connotation of a Hindu way of life that accepts life's circumstances as fate, something that Vijay was totally against.

The dockyard seems to be yet another occasion where we see the miserable conditions of the working class. Rahim Chacha's remark, "nothing but the workers have changed for the past 25 years", seems to be hinting at the Badli (substitute) system, where a large number of workers were hired for temporary terms to avoid high wages. This meant instability of the workforce and no job security, leading to constant anxiety and fear amongst the poor. Moreover, "hafta", a fee exported from all dock workers, is yet another example of exploitation. The fact that the police had not intervened for years clearly points to corruption at the time.

Ravi, contrary to his brother Vijay, represents the disillusioned educated middle class youth in the 70s. Despite good education, Ravi has to face long unemployment lines in a world where he feels "even the last job won't be available to him," since he does not have the "connections". This points to the widespread unemployment and economic turmoil during the period, as well as the corruption within the system, with politicians influencing the hiring decisions. Later, when he falls in love with Veera, he is once again reminded of the stark class divisions prevalent in the society. The outcry during the national emergency in 1975 can also be seen in the movie. In a poignant sequence, Ravi, as a police officer, shoots a young boy stealing bread for his family. Later, when he visits the boy's family to give them some food, his conversation with the boy's mother seems to represent the general perception of the common people during the emergency, with her pointing to the collusion between the state that protects big criminals and grain hoarders, while running after petty criminals who steal food.

Besides inspiration from the events and social issues during the time, the movie also seems to be inspired by specific individuals. For instance, there is parallelism between the story depicted in the movie and the life of Haaji Mastaan in interesting ways. Mastaan, just like Vijay in the movie, had to struggle a lot as a young child, was a dockworker in Bombay and rose to the position of a powerful smuggler operating in Bombay's underworld. He is known to have single-handedly threatened Bakhia, the head of a rival smuggling gang by entering his house alone in the course of an internecine feud. By showing Vijay's life and struggles, it seems as though the producer wants the audience to empathize with criminals such as Mastaan, and carefully consider their circumstances and environment. Nevertheless, the key message of the movie still remains the victory of good over evil. The movie acknowledges the resentment in the people and justifies the action of radicles such as Vijay to some extent, but still maintains that violence and retaliation is not the way to go.

Throughout the movie, there seems to be a lot of discussion about nationalist and anti-nationalist elements. In this context, I found Kaushik Bannerjee's analysis to be very interesting. According to him, if we consider Vijay to be a kind of lawless anti-nationalist, which is questionable given the circumstances, then Ravi too is emblematic of civic disenchantment. His education does not help his poor employment prospects, which can be attributed to the corruption and nepotism prevalent in the system. Also, the circumstances leading to Ravi killing Vijay, and subsequently winning the award, are also due to him joining the police (the only job that he got after much difficulty) and leading this particular assignment. It seems then that the different qualities and ideologies of the two brothers are merely a product of their respective environments and the events that they have had to go through, which raises an important question about the development of the middle class in general at that time.

Deeper Reflection Women in the Movie Siddharth Gupta

Deewar is an Indian cinema milestone that captures the essence of India during the 1970’s under the leadership of Indira Gandhi. Deewar represents an India that is starting to establish itself in the world and give meaning to the Indian Dream. The movie established Amitabh Bachan as a superstar and kick started a new generation of action and suspense movies. These are the reasons why Deewar has left an impact on South Asian entertainment to this day and why it is one of the greatest Bollywood films of all time.

One of the most interesting elements of Deewar is its portrayal and role of women in the film. The movie cements the idea that Indian culture and Indian civilization has always had a substratum of matriarchy. The mother in the movie is the perfect example of how powerful women are the backbones of Indian society. It could be argued that no more important or poignant relationship exists in Indian society than that between mother and son, and Deewar best exemplifies the significance of this nexus. Deewar makes two very important statements about women in India and around the world at the time. It first shows the full capability of women and why they are so important, highlighting the great aspects of women and why they are just as important as men. Secondly, it tackles the issue of presenting women in an independent, autonomous, non-spouse and non-mother role.

It is important to analyze the two types of women shown in the film: the typical caring mother/wife, and the young single free thinker. This break in the feminine model sets up a societal struggle to how women should be portrayed. The mother is the archetypal, suffering, pure, good lady. Veera (Police Chief’s daughter) is the good middle class girl that expresses her love for Ravi by bringing him flowers to the railway station. But these women are in sharp contrast to Anita who displays characteristics not associated with “good” women because for example she spends her time at bars in the evening. Yet, despite these differences, all three women are there to further define the males characters and their internal conflicts. This is particularly true for Anita. She receives gifts from Vijay even though he is a self-enclosed and aloof person. One aspect that distinguishes Anita from the other women is that she is shown as independent. Anita is bereft of a narrative that tells us anything about her life — why she drinks, why she is unhappy — but she is at least presented as an autonomous woman. She is in control of her own sexuality, sleeping with the man she chooses without marrying him (striking for a 70s film) and has the confidence to raise a child independent of her lover. She tells Vijay she will not "force him to marry her" when she finds out she is pregnant. This is why Deewar makes such a big impact on women in the 1970’s. This film swayed from cultural norms and opened up ways women could express themselves.

            Finally, women are given a high and important role in this film. All three women are shown as important support structures to the men in their lives. The mother to her two sons and husband, Anita to Vijay, and Veera to Ravi. Women are placed as equals to their male counterparts and are shown to be just as important in society. This role is best shown by the mother. She fights through adversity, feeds her children when they have nothing, preserveers to give one child education, and in general provide the most she can. She goes above and beyond what society expected out of her, and that is why she is great. This importance of women especially the mother is highlighted in the confrontation scene between Vijay and Ravi. Vijay says: "I have a bungalow, a car, wealth, good clothes to wear. What do you have? What do you have besides a measly job, a uniform, a mere roof over your head?" This is a dramatic moment, for by this time it has been established what is at stake; and thus Ravi can look Vijay squarely in the face, and say with immense pride: "I have mother" (Mere Pas Ma Hai). This one single line has echoed throughout Indian cinema because of how important and true it is. Women and mothers are the foundation and backbone of society, and without them, the world would not be the same.

            Deewar fundamentally changed how women were looked at in Indian society. Yes, the movie was monumental because of its great acting, superb storyline, and intense action scenes, but the portrayal of women claws at the chains of how women are “supposed” to be. It can be argued that women were still shown to be caregivers and not as high achieving as males, but nonetheless, this movie took a step forward in the fight for females.

Reflection Paper: Deewar

            Deewar tells a story of two brothers who represent the good and bad of the choices that adults make. More importantly, it is representative of the back-story that goes into the making of these choices – the childhood experiences that frame the context, the socio-economic mileu that surrounds the being and the true sense of individual disposition.

           

            Yash Chopra’s narrative travels through these various angles to allow for us to see right from wrong at each stage but also see the developmental steps that create empathy for both sides. Vijay’s transformation from being the savior of the ‘coolie’s’ to becoming the leader of a large and pervasive smuggling enterprise was telling of the effect of single incremental steps. One day’s challenge to the goons led to a fight with the whole gang, which led to an invitation from the rival gang – and voila a silver bullet ride to the top job. The movie does a great job in pulling together this sequence of events, without pause and, always maintaining the emotional context of a family that has struggled against all odds to stay alive, one day at a time.

            Another cinematic theme that stood out through the movie was the use of background music. The effective use of musical themes to signal urgency, poignancy, surrender, hope, etc. was so very powerful. Being at a time filled with uncertainty in my own life, this feature made me concur with a classmates wish for some background music in my own reality to give me context of understanding the happenings in any given day.

The movie brings to fore an interesting time in Bombay’s history - as the city of hope. People from different parts of India would migrate to make a living and to experience the true sense of liberty that comes from the cloak of anonymity. As a family that is forced to escape the extremes of social ostracisation, their adaptation to the pace of Bombay’s bustle showed the infinite capacity and uniqueness of the city.