This post first appeared on Totally Filmi on November 9, 2015.
In this wonderful and delightful version of Aladdin, a shaitani (demonic) magician, Hikmat (S. N. Tripathi), calls up a Light Vampire in order to discover the secret to fulfilling his dearest wish, i.e., being Emperor! Of! The! World! The Light Vampire describes a lamp which will give him this power — but also tells him that in order to get hold of the lamp, he will need the help of an honest person with 21 moles on his right arm in the shape of the lamp. Oh, and if he abuses the honest person in question, he will lose his chance to get the lamp.
And, oh, by abusing the Light Vampire three times (as our magician does), one loses the ability to call upon the Light Vampire. Never fear, we’ll see the Light Vampire again, because he delights in showing up when the magician fails, just a little extra neener neener on the side to make up for the abuses suffered at the hands of Hikmat.
The honest man in question, is, of course, Aladdin (Mahipal — of whom I’m not particularly a fan, but I do like him here) — so honest in fact, that although he vows to defy the Sultan’s edict that no one from the town may be in the street when his daughter the Princess Badar (Meena Kumari) passes, he decides to lie and say he didn’t see her, losing a bet. Oh, and the fact that he is instantly smitten with the Princess (and she with him) doesn’t hurt, either.
Aladdin, however, has the misfortune of running into Hasimbeg, the son of the chief minister to the Sultan, and insults his horse. Since the horse is a gift from the Sultan, this is tantamount to insulting the Sultan himself, whereupon Aladdin is arrested and (in a scene filled with delightful wordplay, in which Aladdin offers up veiled requests for the Princess to remove her veil, but which causes the other participants to consider him mad) sentenced to be whipped, then thrown out of town.
As Aladdin is strung up for his whipping, our friendly magician arrives in town, and sees the moles on Aladdin’s arm. After Aladdin is tossed out of town, the magician seeks him out, concocting a story about being Aladdin’s long lost uncle, and offering to set Aladdin up with treasures if, well, he will just give him this dirty old lamp as a reward for his efforts.
They head to the cave that the Light Vampire has said holds the magic lamp, and Aladdin heads in. However, he refuses to give his “uncle” the lamp before being pulled up out of the cave, and watches as “uncle” gets crankier and crankier as Aladdin wonders what’s up with the lamp, wanting to know its secret.
In a huff, Magician Uncle locks Aladdin in the cave, and the Light Vampire shows up to have a good laugh at his expense — see what happens when you don’t listen to the Light Vampire and abuse the honest man? You don’t get the lamp! No Emperor! Of! The! World! for you!
Aladdin discovers, quite by accident (he brushes cobwebs off the lamp) that rubbing the lamp brings forth the djinn (genie), who offers to serve Aladdin’s every need. They fly back to Aladdin’s home, which is transformed by the djinn, and Aladdin begins his journey to win the princess and overturn the evils of the kingdom.
Homi Wadia’s Aladdin is filled with magic and mohabbat (romance), dopplegangers and comic sidekicks, but what makes it truly a wonderful watch are both its special effects and art design, as well as its wonderful songs. Homi Wadia, of course, is the man who gave the world the wonderful Fearless Nadia (the alter ego of Australian actress and stuntwoman Mary Ann Evans, introduced to Indian films by Homi Wadia’s elder brother, J.B.H. Wadia — she later married Homi Wadia, too), and it’s true that the vast majority of his films as director feature her. But Homi Wadia also directed quite a number of films either based on or inspired by Arabian Nights type tales, including three versions of the Aladdin story, and two versions of Alibaba (not to mention one version of Hatim Tai, a story that Wadia’s special effects guru, Babubhai Mistry — a pioneer of effects in Indian cinema who worked extensively both as a special effects master and as a director of fantasy, religious and mythologically themed films — would also go on to direct a version of himself).
In fact, one of Babubhai Mistry’s later films (as director) is one of my absolute favourites — the delicious Hatim Tai. But of all of his films, I think I love Mistry’s work on Aladdin Aur Jadui Chirag most of all — there’s something almost childlike and playful about it all, which only adds to the film’s charms.
And oh, the music, from S.N. Tripathi (yes, the same S.N. Tripathi who plays the magician Hikmat here) and Chitragupta! Seven in all, and they deserve a post on their own (which I think they will get, they are so good and illustrate so well how to integrate story and songs). But Sharmaa Ke Zara (“Don’t Be Shy”) (sung by Asha Bhosle and Shamshad Begum) is a particular delight. The serving maids recognize that something has happened to their princess, that she’s fallen in love, and they encourage her to tell them about it. I just adore their teeny conical henins, as well as the moon and the stars as ornaments in Meena Kumari’s hair (and oh, how pretty she is in this film).
All in all, Aladdin Aur Jadui Chirag is a delightful spin on an Arabian Nights tale, and well worth the watch.
And, oh, yes. Bucklers are swashed.
Or, they would be if Aladdin had one in addition to his sword.
This post is part of Swashathon! A blogathon of swashbuckling adventure. You really need to go read the rest of the contributions, gathered by host Movies Silently.