Films

NOSTALGIA

Goldie Anand directs  Dev Anand in Nau Do GyarahDev sahab and I had been toying with the idea of doing a film together for 25 years. But somehow it never materialised, I guess, because he was so busy. I had made it clear to him that if we were to work together he'd have to take a break from his directorial ventures and let me take over as director. That's how Hum Dono and Guide worked

He’s in a sunny mood. Rested and relaxed after a rejuvenating holiday in Karjat. The only dark cloud was a phone call from abroad. A childhood friend had succumbed to cancer. Death has been swooping down on his near and dear ones too often. It’s only been months since Chetan Anand submitted to a losing battle against failing health. “The doctors killed him,” the younger Anand frowns darkly. “If I’d had my way he would have lived for another 3-4 years at least. I would have never agreed to him being given five bottles of blood. Abroad, doctors carefully scrutinise the blood for at least six months, waiting for germs to surface, and then, only after the blood has been certified as clean, do they okay it for a transfusion. Here who has the time for such precautions? One day I got a call informing me that Chetan sahab was very ill and needed blood immediately. He’d told them to ask Goldie first. What could I do? Maybe he needed it. But five bottles? I saw him slowly waste away before my eyes after that... Slowly, day by day, while I kept vigil by his bedside...”

Dev Anand in Nau Do GyarahChetan sahab was more than big brother to Goldie. He was a father figure to all the Anands. Even when they were thousands of miles away he was there, a reassuring presence, only a phone call away. “After my father suddenly renounced the world and became a sanyasi it was Chetan sahab who marshalled his meagre resources and ensured that the family survived,” Goldie informs in a voice choked with emotion. “Without him we would have starved. Chetan sahab had been the head of our family for so long...”

And now Dev Anand has had the role forced on him. It’s a responsibility he’s not comfortable with, maintains Goldie, because despite his gregarious image he is really a very shy man. But death changes many things. Brings about many realisations. Chetan sahab’s death, Goldie reasons, must have made Dev sahab realise the ephemerality of life and the inevitability of The End. Perhaps that’s why he suddenly dropped in on Goldie and insisted that they do a film together, a film which would be a tribute to Chetan Anand. “We’d been toying with the idea for a long time — 25 years to be exact,” smiles Goldie. “But somehow after Guide, Johnny Mera Naam and Tere Mere Sapne it never materialised, I guess, because Dev sahab was always so busy with his films and I’d made it very clear to him that if we were to work together he’d have to take a break from his directorial ventures and let me take over as director. It wouldn’t work otherwise. He had to forget that he was Dev Anand, and forget his responsibilities and his romantic image. That’s how Hum Dono worked. The younger man was Dev Anand, the older major was Vijay Anand the director. That’s how Guide worked too. Raju was the star. The saint was the actor who’d been told he couldn’t move an inch, couldn’t let a tear drop without the director’s permission. That is the only way another Anand v/s Anand film can work out.”

The film has just been launched with a song recording. Goldie understandably doesn’t want to reveal too many details about the project. All he’ll say is that Dev Anand is playing a character complimentary to his age. An estranged husband, a broken man who’s suddenly given the gift of a doting daughter, a perky 19-year-old who changes his life, forever. Initially, he had thought of calling it Tan Man Dhan but then discovered to his dismay that the title was already registered by someone else. “I met the man recently in Karjat. He said he was one of my biggest fans and was so delighted to meet me in person that he was willing to relinquish the title. But it was too late. I’d already found Jaana Na Dil Se Door, which I thought was more apt. I’ve even recorded the title song,” Goldie informs.

The idea for Jaana Na Dil Se Door came to him suddenly. “I’ve thought at times what it would be like to have a daughter. A daughter who I hadn’t seen for almost 20 years. And how would it be if one day, this girl suddenly walked back into my life? A girl who, every time I saw her, reminded me of her mother,” he says softly. And as the idea developed Jaana Na Dil Se Door was born.

Goldie confesses that he wanted Madhuri Dixit for the role. She’s the best actress we have today, he asserts. It was a challenging role. A double role, of mother and daughter. Madhuri loved it but she was worried about playing the mother. “I’ve played a double role twice and both the films have flopped,” she told him worriedly. And even after 20 days she couldn’t shrug off her superstitious belief and believe that this film could break the double role jinx.

Next in queue was Juhi Chawla. Juhi too, you’re told, was wary of playing the mother. “I have no problems with the 19-year old. I’m still a teenager. Let me remain one,” she pleaded with Goldie when they met.

Dev Anand and Goldie Anand share a moment with JeevanManisha Koirala was approached next and though her secretary loved the idea of a double role, Manisha unfortunately hasn’t been in town much to discuss the project with Goldie. And he doesn’t want to wait too long. “Now that I have a commitment from Dev sahab I’m in a hurry to clinch the casting,” he says. So why doesn’t he opt for a new face? For the second lead he has already signed up a young boy nobody’s seen on screen, hasn’t he? “Yeah, but in the case of the girl I think it would be a mistake. Firstly, it’s a complex role and you need a seasoned actress to carry it off. Also, I don’t want her to be completely overawed by Dev sahab. That would be disastrous,” he explains. However, he admits he had, at one time, toyed with the idea of casting a newcomer. “One day when I was going through Chetan sahab’s bag I came across photographs of this girl he must have been thinking of signing for his film. I thought she’d be ideal for my film but when I made enquires I found that in the meantime she had already committed herself to a Hindi-Telugu bilingual,” he sighs. Now he’s back to considering more established stars. “Maybe Raveena...” he says reflectively.

While he waits for his leading lady, Goldie is busy working on the songs with lyricist Neeraj who’s also working with Goldie after a quarter of a century. “But the rapport’s still there and that’s important,” Goldie smiles. Music is an important part of his films and something he lavishes a lot of his time and effort on. He’s always been fond of poetry and it wasn’t long before he started scribbling his own poems, suggesting mukhdas and antaras to his lyric writers and music directors. Gaata rahe mera dil, tu hi meri manzil, Goldie tells you proudly, was his creative expression which eventually developed into one of the most melodious numbers of Hindi cinema. “After I had convinced Majrooh (Sultanpuri) sahab to write some sher shayari for me, I went and bought all his books and read up on all that had ever flowed from his pen. So by the time we started work on Nau Do Gyarah I understood his poetry and was confident enough to suggest changes once in a while. Like when we were working on Aankhon mein kya ji, Majrooh sahab suggested sunehra badal as the answer. But the song was being sung at night so I tactfully suggested to Majrooh sahab that instead of sunehra badal, rupela badal would be more apt because one would expect silvery moonlight at night rather than golden sunbeams. And, of course, he agreed,” Goldie beams.

Goldie didn’t just share a wonderful relationship with his lyricists but with his music directors too. He remembers how, during Tere Mere Sapne, he’d discussed a situation with Burman dada. The doctor’s wife is pregnant but they’ve grown so far apart and he’s so lost in another world that he doesn’t even realise she’s carrying his child. There should be a song here, Goldie suggested to SD Burman. He already had the words in mind: Pyar tera madhir madhir, jaise rajnigandha, saath tera madhur madhur, chandni ka chanda. Burman dada went home after telling Goldie reassuringly that he’d think of something. At around 10.30 p.m. there was a call from dada. “I was surprised because it was common knowledge that Burman dada went to bed by 10 p.m. But apparently, he’d been so inspired by the mukhda that he’d gone home thinking of the words and the same night came up with a tune which is hummed even today. Neeraj was also there that night and Burman dada told him, ‘Neeraj, yeh tune hai, yeh kuch bol hai jo Goldie ne likhe hain. Don’t change the mukhda. Bas aage likho’,” Goldie smiles at the memory.

Goldie is one of those rare film-makers who is involved with every department of his film, be it story, music or even editing. When he was directing producer Nasir Husain's Teesri Manzil, Goldie ventured to tell the movie moghul, who was producing as well as editing the movie, that a certain scene should be cut differently. Nasir Husain, who was sitting at the editing table, looked at his director in amazement and then told him quietly, “If you know so much about editing why don’t you take my place?” A lesser man would have lost his nerve there and then, but Goldie was unfazed. “Aapko burra lag gaya. If I sit at the table you will dislike it even more,” he told Husain quietly. The film-maker assured him that he wasn’t angry and Goldie confidently slid into his chair and took over the scene with all the technical finesse of a veteran. After this Goldie took over the editorial duties entirely.

Goldie is known as a “complete” director. And so it wasn’t surprising when producers came to him insisting that they’d give a break to a young and promising director only if Goldie would act in the film and ensure that things went on smoothly when on the sets. There were times when Goldie magnanimously obliged, but he was always sensitive to others’ feelings. He would watch quietly from the sidelines till he was approached for his advice, and then he’d swing into action. One such occasion was during the making of Kora Kagaz. Goldie claims that he was the one who convinced everyone that Kora Kagaz would be a more suitable title than the original Saat Bandhan, obviously inspired by the original Bengali film, Saath Pakhe Badha. Goldie’s suggestion was a title which inspired the superhit song, Mera jeevan kora kagaz, kora hi reh gaya. There were many times during the making of the film when Goldie helped out. Once Jaya Bachchan, who was pregnant and not in a very pleasant mood, walked onto the set and was handed a long dialogue which would wind up the film. Jaya took one look at the pages she’d been handed and flew into a rage. “No way am I going to cram 36 pages,” she thundered. Goldie stepped in as peace maker, soothed her and told her they’d improvise. The long dialogue eventually was cut down to a couple of simple lines: Kuch tumhara, kuch mera, kasoor dono ka tha...” And the scene was just as effective,” Goldie says with a satisfied smile.

Goldie and Dev Anand at the launch of  Jaana Na Dil Se DoorKora Kagaz didn’t just get Jaya Bachchan rave reviews, but Goldie’s portrayal as the suave, sensitive, self-respecting professor was highly appreciated as well. Goldie’s professor was the kind of husband every young girl dreamed of getting and keeping. So it wasn’t surprising when, after the success of this off-beat film, he was flooded with roles. But Goldie wasn’t tempted. Direction was his forte, though acting was fun too. The talent and the interest was there but he never had an actor’s obsession with his looks. Goldie remembers how, during the making of Teesri Manzil, Shammi Kapoor approached him and Nasir Husain in a panic after seeing the rushes of the song Deewana mujhsa nahin. “Can we go back to Mahabaleshwar and reshoot one shot where my hair is standing up,” he begged. It was useless explaining to him that it was okay, your hair blows in the breeze. Goldie, who was never too worried about how the camera captured him, decided he would be better off behind the camera. The producer of Kora Kagaz wanted to repeat him in his next film but Goldie declined. Other offers were turned down too. It was only when something like a Main Tulsi Teri Aangan Ki turned up that he found it hard to say “no”, because his friend Raj Khosla refused to take a “no” for an answer.

Raj had been part of the Navketan unit and was Goldie’s friend and admirer. When he started Main Tulsi... he decided that for the role of Nutan’s husband and Asha Parekh’s lover he needed a good actor but one who didn’t have an established image. After much thought, he decided that Goldie would be ideal and begged him to accept the role. With Goldie on the sets, Raj knew that once in a while he could take it easy. “He was a late riser and he found it difficult to start work before noon. So there were times when I’d be in charge. I had a lot of fun,” Goldie laughs.

Eleven reels were quickly canned. “We’d shot some really beautiful scenes with Nutan and me. Three quarters of the film had been shot and the children had yet to grow up. Obviously, Vinod Khanna, who was the film’s hero, objected and asked for more footage. And the result was that several of those beautiful scenes were left at the editing table. In fact, when the film was finally complete I found that the distributors had also left out my name,” Goldie says sadly. However, he’s happy that the film turned out very different from the usual love triangle. Not only is the other woman accepted and given equal status by the wife but after her death, the souten fights to get her illegitimate son accepted by society as the thakur’s son. It was this twist in the tale which made it such a crowd-puller. The title song topped the charts and had women sobbing in the theatre. “Of course, if I’d had my way, I’d have taken the experiment further and instead of making the illegitimate son whiter than driven snow and the legitimate son predictably black, I’d have made them both likeable boys,” Goldie maintains. “Still despite everything, Main Tulsi... turned out to be an interesting film for me as an actor.”

However, his favourite film both as an actor and a director is undoubtedly Tere Mere Sapne. A film which Goldie candidly confesses was inspired by the novel The Citadel. Though the novel was set in England, Goldie decided that the medical malpractices in India weren’t all that different. This realisation was strengthened further when he fell ill and was diagnosed as having a stone in his kidney. For 10 years he suffered, shuttling between hospitals and doctors. “Two doctors fought over my commission and when the operation was finally performed, it was done by a new surgeon who had been given a “break” to operate upon Dev Anand’s brother,” Goldie remembers bitterly. His experiences made him all the more aware of the corruption in medical circles. Then there was a cousin, Avinash Chadda, a renowned surgeon, who came to India intending to settle down here but realised very soon that he would never get work worthy of his capabilities. So he went back across the seven seas in frustrated despair. All these incidents crystallised in Goldie’s mind and he came up with a sensitive love story set against the backdrop of the medical profession.

Goldie Anand directs  Dev Anand and Ashok Kumar in Jewel ThiefGoldie played a character like his cousin, a brilliant surgeon who takes to drink to forget his frustrations. It was a cameo but Goldie read as many books as he could lay his hands on so every action during the operation scenes was medically correct. Since Dev Anand couldn’t spare as much time in perfecting his role, Goldie got a doctor to come on the sets and supervise his scenes. And for the big operation in the climax, he got permission to shoot in the operation theatre of a hospital when a real Caesarean was in progress. “Tere Mere Sapne was perfect and it was my film. That’s why I haven’t sold the rights to any TV channel. I even advised Dev sahab against selling the rights of Guide to these TV wallahs. I wish he hadn’t. Then one of my best songs wouldn’t have been sponsored by some paan masala or gutka,” Goldie sighs dispiritedly.

Interestingly, when Dev Anand had sounded him out about RK Narayan’s book, The Guide, Goldie remembers that he had advised him against making the film. “It wasn’t a subject I’d choose for an international project. I was horrified when I went through the screenplay of the English version. It was third rate and would ruin the image of the country. The first scene had Marco and Rosie disembarking at the station and encountering Raju. And in the next shot Rosie and the guide were in bed together. Who would accept such a hero even if he turned into a saint later in our country? Marco would walk away with all the sympathy that goes to a cuckolded husband,” Goldie points out rationally. But obviously Dev Anand and Pearl S. Buck thought differently. In fact, Goldie remembers, Dev was obsessed with the idea of turning RK Narayan’s novel into a Hindi-English bilingual. And when Goldie wouldn’t fall in with his plans, there was a major fight after which he was replaced by Raj Khosla as the director of the Hindi version. Hollywood director Tad Danielewski was in charge of the English version.

With the director decided, Dev Anand got busy choosing the cast. Danielewski was taken in with Leela Naidu’s Dresden China looks and insisted that she was his Rosie. Dev spent hours trying to convince him that Leela was no dancer and didn’t have much of a market in India at the time. Wouldn’t Vyjayanthimala or Padmini be a better choice? Danielewski didn’t think so. The Southern beauties were too buxom for his tastes. In desperation Dev suggested Waheeda Rehman. She had yet to establish herself in dancing roles but Dev was aware that the CID girl could dance. And her limpid eyes and bewitching smile got the “yes” from Danielewski. Now, Dev Anand thought, his dream project would have a dream run. He was wrong. Waheeda was under the impression that Goldie was directing the film. When she heard that Raj Khosla had replaced him she told Dev Anand very categorically that she was not working with Khosla. “I’m not asking you to replace him but I’m not in your film,” she informed a shocked Dev. Apparently, they’d had a spat during the Solva Saal days and she’d promised her mother she’d never do another film with Raj Khosla.

Dev Anand in Hum DonoIn desperation Dev turned to his elder brother, Chetan Anand. Chetan sahab agreed to bail him out. However, earlier Chetan sahab had requested permission to be allowed to shoot his war epic Haqeeqat in Ladakh. And just before he could get cracking on Guide he got a letter informing him that permission had been granted but if he wanted to shoot in Ladakh, he had to reach there in a month’s time and wrap up the schedule before the location became snow-bound and out of reach. So Chetan Anand was out of Guide too and Dev once again turned to his younger brother who reluctantly agreed to helm the Hindi version, provided he was given complete creative freedom which included the right to rework and rewrite the script. “I didn’t want to keep anything of the Americans in my film. I was determined to change the whole look and make a much better film,” narrates Goldie. He went off to Khandala and came back after 18 days with a new script.

Goldie’s next stop was Udaipur. Danielewski had changed the location from Malgudi to Udaipur because he didn’t think the dark-skinned Southerners in their white dhotis would look too good in the crowd scenes. The Rajasthanis in their colourful attire, riding their camels through long stretches of desert sand, would make a more interesting backdrop. The entire film, except the songs, was shot at Udaipur by Goldie in one marathon spell of 80 shifts. The songs were picturised later, made memorable thanks to the inspired genius of choreographer Hiralal, the determined efforts of his assistants Sheila and Saroj, and the unflinching dedication of Waheeda Rehman who would wake up at 2 a.m. for a four hour rehearsal with Hiralal’s girls, drink glasses of milk and and even go through daily massages so she could carry off the arduous numbers to perfection. Thanks to the cooperation of his cast and crew, Goldie kept his promise of making a very different film. A brilliant film. Even Ted Danielewski was impressed and borrowed some of Goldie’s shots for his version. But they couldn’t save the English Guide from disaster. Not even a nude shot of Waheeda (she’d refused to do the shot so Danielewski went back to the US and did the shot with an Amercian girl who was passed off as the Indian star) could endear the film to audiences abroad. And Dev Anand was in the red.

After the debacle of the English version it was not surprising that Dev found it difficult to sell the Hindi version. No distributor would touch it with a bargepole and Goldie refused to go around screening his magnum opus for sceptical trade folk. The debts piled up and with it, rumours that this expensive gamble spelled doom for Navketan. Finally, Yash Johar who was an assistant at Navketan those days, screened two songs for a Delhi distributor without his boss’ knowledge. One glimpse of Piya toh se naina lage re and the man was hooked. “What’s your price? I’m buying the film,” he told Yash Johar, who came rushing back with the good news.

The film was premiered at Mumbai’s Maratha Mandir. And after the grand premiere Goldie remembers everyone came to him with funeral expressions and obviously forced responses, “It was a good film.” It was clear they thought that Goldie was going to ‘kill’ Dev Anand with his film. “Everywhere I went the response was negative. Yet, the film enjoyed a 10-week houseful run at Maratha Mandir,” Goldie smiles at the memory. Then a drought hit Gujarat and suddenly there were banners all over the state, “Guide prays for rain”. After that no one was surprised when the film celebrated a silver jubilee at Ahmedabad. The film continues to draw crowds and bring in money even today, over three decades after it was released.

GuideAfter the film was released, Goldie went to Hollywood for a visit and when in LA’s Sunset Boulevard, bumped into Howard Hawks who had produced 52 films for MGM and was presently working on Bathing Beauty. Hawks was fascinated by the Hindi version of Guide. He wanted to sign Goldie for a Hollywood film and predicted that Guide would win Goldie an Oscar. “But you’ll have to spend some money to ensure that all the Academy members get to see the film, and you’ll have to have sub-titles,” the Anands were advised. Money was a problem. Goldie remembers they didn’t have enough to even pay their hotel bills. So the Oscar slipped out of their hands. Goldie, however, spent some enlightening weeks in England catching up on the works of the masters like Fellini and Godard and found that he didn’t really care for these kinds of films. He returned to India to a tumultuous welcome. Everywhere he went the Guide followed him around. “I want to forget Guide,” he decided. And for that he knew he had to make a very different film. RK Narayan would come everyday with story ideas. One day he started discussing the case of a man who was there but didn’t really exist — and Goldie had the plot for his next film—Jewel Thief.

Getting Dev Anand for Jewel Thief wasn’t a problem. But getting Ashok Kumar, the only one who Goldie was convinced could carry off the role of the suave villain, was difficult. Dadamoni had just returned from a heart surgery and when Goldie trekked to Roop Tara studio with the intention of getting his okay, he knew he had a task on his hands. Dev Anand introduced him to Dadamoni saying, “Goldie wants to make a film with you.” After that the younger Anand took over, telling Dadamoni that he was making a two hero project. “I want you to play the title role. It’s a very challenging role. The only problem is that we learn in the last reel that your character is the film’s bad man. But you’ve played the anti-hero before. You can do it. In fact, only you can do it. You’re a courageous actor, yes, you are,” Goldie coaxed the veteran actor. Ashok Kumar was game. But he laid down three conditions. “I’m not going to hit anyone. And no one should hit me. If I get into fisticuffs it’ll kill me,” he warned Goldie. Goldie assured him that there would be no fights. His villain was an intellectual villain. He uses his mind, not his muscles. Dadamoni was relieved to hear that. His final condition was that he would report on the sets at 11 a.m. sharp with make-up on. Two hours later they’d break for an hour-long lunch break. And at 5 p.m. it would be “pack-up”. That too was agreeable to Goldie. He assured Dadamoni that his schedule would be followed to the minute.

On the first day Dev Anand and Ashok Kumar were on the sets at 11 a.m. sharp. But there was no sign of the film’s heroine, Vyjayantimala. An assistant was sent to her every quarter of an hour. Finally, at 12.30 he returned with the message that madam didn’t want to be disturbed, she’d come when she was ready. At ten minutes to one she strolled in asking sweetly, “Am I late?” Goldie surprised her by calling for a lunch break. Vyjayantimala was furious. “Your assistant has been badgering me for the last two hours and now when I’m here you announce a break,” she raged. Goldie was unfazed. “Our most senior artiste is not a very healthy person. We have to follow his schedule. You have to be on the set early,” he reminded her. Vyjayantimala never forgot the “slight”. For the rest of the film, Goldie insists, she nursed a khunnas against him.

There were some date problems and many distractions but Vyjayantimala being the professional that she was, still came up with a polished performance. Goldie’s only grievance is that she could have done better with Hoton pe aisi baat. “I wanted her to rehearse the number before we went for a final take. But she told me airily that she didn’t need any rehearsals. I insisted she did, but she still didn’t report for rehearsals and came straight to the set. I called for “pack-up” and told her firmly that she had to stay back in the studio and practise with the assistants. She did practise, for 15 minutes. Then she got into her car and drove off saying that Saroj Khan would be coming to her place later and they’d go over the steps together. The rehearsal never happened but Vyjayantimala being a good actress and an excellent dancer didn’t find it too difficult to pick up the steps and the shots were okayed quickly. But I could never establish the kind of rapport I had with Mumtaz, Waheeda, Hema and Raakhee, with Vyjayantimala,” Goldie rues.

Jewel Thief was followed by Johnny Mera Naam, another superhit. And so slick that one day the principal of the FTII, Pune, took his students to watch a commercial Hindi film. And that film was Goldie’s Johnny Mera Naam. “The undergraduates who were used to seeing Godard’s films were shocked till the principal explained that this was a perfect mix of art and the commercial,” Goldie says proudly.

Chhupa Rustam, Hum Rahe Na Hum, Bullet, Jaan Haazir Hai, Ram Balram and Rajput followed. Goldie continued to strive for the perfect balance between the two genres. But now suddenly it was becoming difficult to come up with another Tere Mere Sapne, Jewel Thief, Guide or even a Johnny Mera Naam. He blames it on the long delays thanks to difficult stars. Rajput, he claims, would have been his best film if it hadn’t stretched over seven years. During the course of the film, Hema Malini got married, became pregnant, put on weight, delivered her baby and got back into shape. This no doubt created continuity problems. Then, when just a fortnight's work was left, getting Rajesh Khanna and Vinod Khanna together proved to be difficult. Vinod was shooting near Pune those days and only at 1.30 pm would he reach Mumbai’s Film City which was serving as a makeshift Rajasthan because the producer didn’t want to waste money flying his unit out. Half an hour later, Rajesh would leave for a 2-10 shift. “Sometimes Vinod’s car would be entering the studio and Rajesh’s leaving,” Goldie remembers with a wry smile. He tried to tackle the problem by moving his set between Mumbai and Pune, but eventually was forced to rely on editing gimmicks for the confrontation scenes between the two Khannas. “It was so frustrating,” he sighs.

So was Main Tere Liye which Goldie claims would have resurrected Suneil Anand’s career, had it not got entangled in legal problems. “We were getting good money for it but we thought we’d hold back for more. Then Anand Aur Anand was released and after it flopped our project was not viable anymore. Meanwhile, the capital interest was rising to unbelievable proportions. Releasing it at that stage was too much of a financial risk so Dev sahab got busy with his next film. Then just before the premiere of that film, the producer of Main Tere Liye went to court and asked for an injunction. Dev sahab couldn’t afford to stall his new release. So he signed away the rights of Main Tere Liye and the film was released on the video circuit. Who would watch it in the theatre now? A sad end to a good film,” Goldie sighs.

All these unfortunate experiences resulted in Goldie taking a break from direction to return to acting. Tehkikaat was a fun holiday, he jokes. It all started with Shekhar Kapur, his nephew, asking him to cut short a trip to London to do the role of a scientist in his Time Machine. To date, his performance in that film has been seen only by Shekhar and his unit, one of whom was the writer Karan Razdan who later wrote a serial revolving around a slick private eye with Goldie in mind, and got Shekhar to convince his uncle to play the role. After two episodes as director of the serial, Shekhar took off to shoot Bandit Queen and Karan, with a lot of help and encouragement from Goldie, took over as director.

Tehkikaat turned out to be amazingly popular and Sam D'Silva (Vijay Anand) enjoyed a wonderful 50-episode run on DD before DD decided it didn’t want to grant long-running serials any more extensions. Subsequently, Razdan was told Dev Anand and Mumtaz in Tere Mere Sapnethat he would have to shift to DD Metro. Goldie advised Razdan against it and told him that since the serial was making so much money for DD he should ask them to raise their ceiling. DD refused and Razdan took his serial to STAR. But before the new Tehkikaat could go on air Razdan sold the rights of the old episodes to Zee who began promoting it as the “real” Tehkikaat and airing it a day earlier. “That quickly cut short Tehkikaat’s run on STAR and it wound up on Zee soon after. But I’d had my share of the fun,” Goldie chuckles.

And now after this brief stint in the spotlight Goldie’s back behind the camera, directing his brother. Anand aur Anand... it promises to be an enthralling drama. We’ve waited 25 years for the Guide team to come together again. And now they finally have.

 
Short Takes
It was Lucky

 

Buttons