[Well, I finally found a copy of the Friends DVD that works, or a new computer with which the DVD will work, or a little of both, though sometimes the song or scene selection menu just won’t work, but never mind.]
I finally watched Ratan, and it’s time to throw the Kleenex box into the recycling bag. Oh, and by the way, that’s not the first box I’ve gone through either. If you like melodramas about denied and heartbroken lovers, you should enjoy this film. (And if you don’t, why the hell are you watching old Hindi films in the first place? OK, maybe you watch them for the music…in which case, this is definitely a film for you too!)
The story is somewhat familiar (but just remember that this film came before most of the other ones you might be thinking of): Two people who’ve been childhood sweethearts finally fall in love as maturing adolescents, but they are of different castes and their respective parents are worried about what “society” will say. So, the girl gets stuck with an arranged marriage with someone who is considerably older, who will supposedly provide her a good life because he is an editor. (True maybe in India in 1944… It probably wouldn’t be such a sure thing in the U.S. today.) Her new husband is actually a pretty interesting character, because he is completely sympathetic to the wife’s plight and feels that since he has reached an old and undesirable age of 40(!), he will never bring his young bride happiness, because her “heart” is too young. He doesn’t even know about the denied romance, but he is even more sympathetic when he finds out about it (only it’s a bit too late). The denied lovers meanwhile sink further and further into depression. The boy ends up wandering the jungle, singing sad Naushad songs in front of a big stone head.
There are shades of quite a few other movies that you might recognize in this one, though once again, remember which one came first. I thought not only of Baiju Bawra but of also of Mela (1948). (I wasn’t really that crazy about Mela – except for the Naushad music and the excellent performances by its stars, but I’m seeing a little of Mela in a lot of things now, so I guess it was a memorable film after all.) Ratan came four years earlier and it shows in some ways… Ratan’s actors, Karan Diwan and Swarnalata, are not as good as Dilip Kumar and Nargis, and I guess Ratan contains more than a little of that overly theatrical acting that a few of my blogging colleagues have mentioned with regard to the films of the ’40s. (Though I think Karan Diwan is far more guilty of this here than Swarnalata, who is pretty good. Interestingly, Diwan’s acting seems quite different in Teen Batti Char Rasta, made just nine years later.) That having been said, I found Ratan to be very moving anyway.
Of course, Ratan has many, many songs. Another common critique of the old films would certainly apply to this one: It probably has more songs than is good for proper maintenance of the dramatic flow. But as with other films of the era that had Naushand as music director – such as Anmol Ghadi and Baiju Bawra – I would have happily welcomed more songs. Also, the frequent songs become especially welcome during the slow and less interesting part near the middle of the film. (In other words, I didn’t care that this part of the film wasn’t so compelling, because I just loved the songs!)
Naushad was clearly the real star of this film. This was his breakthrough soundtrack, and deservedly so. It is less overtly spectacular than Baiju Bawra, but I think that’s why I’ve gotten to like it even more – there’s something magical about the way Naushad created such great music in such a relatively simple environment.
And I do love Zohrabai Ambalewali! She wasn’t quite on the level of Noor Jehan or Lata Mangeshkar but she did have a beautiful voice and singing style.
I also appreciate Amiribai Karnataki and Shyam Sunder, who sing on my second-favorite song in the movie, “O Jane Wale Balamwa.” The dancing in this scene is fantastic, too. (Who is the male dancer? He is great!)
And I like the expressions on the faces of our dear stricken-and-denied lovers. “Ankhiyan Milake” is, of course, the great classic, but this clip of “O Jane Wale Balamwa” provides another brief glimpse of Ratan in its best moments, showing why this film was very enjoyable even if it wasn’t exactly flawless or earth-shattering.
Dances on the Footpath 
I haven’t seen the movie though I love the songs and I liked your review, Hope Ratan and Naushad helped you settle in nicely into your new place.
I second that – I hope you’re settled in comfortably! And yes, I haven’t seen Ratan either, but I do love the songs – especially Ankhiyaan milaake jiya bharmaake: beautiful.
It seems that not many people have actually seen this film in recent years. :) Despite all the problems, I have to be grateful to Friends for making these very old movies available on DVD with English subtitles… And I’m glad that I got their DVD to work (or got a working DVD) on the second try, months after the first. It was nice to see the entire film…
Bawa and Dustedoff, thank you both for the good wishes. When I went to the stoe where I bought Ratan, I was reminded that the new place is actually closer to those stores than the old one (I just need to approach them from a different direction). Given all the unusual (to say the least) problems I’ve had with housing over the past couple of years, it’s a consolation to know that I’ve always managed to stay within twelve blocks of the best Bollywood DVD stores. That minor victory will make settling in a little easier, I think. :)
To have always managed to stay in such close proximity to the best Bollywood DVD stores is high achievement indeed! Well done :-)
I need to start doing Christmas shopping, and for my father I’ve already decided I’ll look for some of these old films – he’d mentioned he wanted Anmol Ghadi, Sangdil, Ratan and a couple more. I’m not sure how many I’ll be able to find in the stores here (they tend to stock very few films older than Sholay, and even if they are older, they’re the very well-known ones, the sort that are anyway shown often enough on TV. Induna, here I come…
So you never move far from your favorite DVD stores, do you?! Isnt that unbearable temptation on a daily basis? My bank balance would be down to zero if I had good DVD stores so close by! ;-)
I havent seen the film either, but the songs are lovely, though not, as you point out, anywhere near as spectacular as those from Baiju Bawra.
“since he has reached an old and undesirable age of 40(!), he will never bring his young bride happiness” Marriageable age for girls in India back then would be 16-18 years. So if the heroine is that age, her husband is, if not as old as her Dad, certainly of the same generation – not always the best combination for a good beginning! Though if he realised that, why did he agree to the marriage?
Hi, Bollyviewer. I do a lot more DVD browsing than buying. :) Being so close to these stores, I am able to tell myself that I don’t have to buy this or that DVD today because I can always pick it up tomorrow or next week. Sometimes I think I would end up buying more if I were making special trips from some distance away.
Regarding your question… He agrees to the marriage because he was lied to by the woman who arranged the marriage for him (i.e., his sister). He was told that the bride was 28, though she was much younger (of normal marriageable age back then).
This twist, by the way, was repeated in Mela, another reason that this movie reminded me a bit of that one (in addition to the fact that Mela also had a heartbroken young man (Dilip Kumar) singing sad Naushad songs in front of a big stone head). In that one, the Nargis character is married off to an even older man, who is shocked when he finds out how young his bride is.
I was just joking when I added the exclamation point to “40” (reflecting that I am now a few years older that). Although, as you well know ;) , Bollywood filmmakers didn’t seem to mind such big age differences between hero and heroine. As a certain former YouTube poster pondered to me in a correspondence once, Ashok Kumar was 38 years old when he was cast in Mahal to become love-obsessed with a 16-year-old Madhubala.
Dustedoff, your congratulations are appreciated!
And good luck with the Vintage Bollywood Christmas shopping!
Richard and bollyviewer, I just wanted to add my two cents in the conversation between the two of you… the fact that the 40-year old man marries a teenager because he was lied to, or that (in Mela) he is shocked when he discovers how young his bride is: I’d probably think this was an attempt on the part of cinema to show a little conscience. I remember doing some research for a story a few years back, and was shocked to read that well into the 1900’s, vastly disparate marriages – in terms of age – were not unknown. There were common enough instances (in Bengal, I recall) of little girls, sometimes as small as 7 or 8, being married off to men in their 70’s. Nauseating.
very very good
I want dowload of this ” RATAN ” film on my compuer. I like very much this film.
I saw this movie in mid-seventies in Ludhiana at Mini-Chand theatre, not once but twice because movie was so good and not ot mention of songs. I remember it was printed on the movie posters that “Rattan ran for 3 years in theatres in Karachi, Lahore and Bombay”. Movie print was just like new, bright and sharp crisp clear.