Inspiration: Mughal-e-Azam

I'm honestly a little shocked that it took me so long to get to writing this post, considering how iconic Mughal-e-Azam is and how much I love it. Or rather, how much I love the music, because the movie itself doesn't impress the way the soundtrack does.

You see, Mughal-e-Azam centers around Anarkali, a mythical figure whose social status and adventures will vary drastically depending on which legend you're reading. In the film, she's a court dancer who falls in love with a fictionalized version of Prince Mirza Nur-ud-din Beig Mohammad Khan Salim (say that 12 times fast), much to the displeasure of Emperor Akbar. Akbar is so pissed about the romance, in fact, that he keeps tossing Anarkali in to dungeons between dance numbers. His son starts a rebellion to defend their love (which is totally not the reason the real Salim started a rebellion, but hey, romance!), there's eventually a truce, Anarkali spends some more time in a dungeon...it's kind of a long-winded mess. And I say that as somebody who generally loves historical epics of all sorts.

But guys, it's so damn pretty to look at, and the soundtrack will never leave my top 10 list. Mughal-e-Azam was also my introduction to the beloved Madhubala, who died tragically at the age of 36. I admit I was initially more drawn to the villainness Bahaar, played by Nigar Sultana, a less popular actress I nevertheless fell madly in love with. Like, hardcore love. I bought every movie I could find with her name in the credits. But Madhubala eventually grew on me.

So let's start with Bahaar! Here's her introduction in the film, showing her surreptitiously wearing a crown while she talks about her plan to become empress. God, I love this bitch. Also, take a close look at her eyes: the eyeliner in this film tends to be very stealthy, drawn close to the lashes and flicked out just a tad.

And is that warm pink lipstick the actual color she wore? We'll probably never know: only four reels were shot in color. If you saw Mughal-e-Azam when it was first released, you saw a movie that was almost entirely black-and-white with just a few scenes in Technicolor. The pictures you're about to see come from a re-colorized version of the film, meaning a company was paid big bucks to effectively paint the black and white scenes. (This information will be important later, I promise.)

Early in the film, Bahaar isn't a villain, just a pretty woman. Her makeup is less obvious, and she's shown in brighter, lighter clothing. This changes, though, when she encounters her rival for the prince's affections. Compare the picture on the left to the picture in the bottom right.

PS: Keep an eye out for this carefully-styled sideburns on other actors! Such a nice touch.

Here we see the more obvious eye makeup Bahaar rocks for the rest of the film. They also painted her lips a deeper plum shade in a number of scenes. And that beautiful powder blue ensemble she's wearing on the right is pretty much the only lightly-colored thing I can recall her wearing in the movie; for the rest of the film, she wears plenty of black and some deeper, more saturated colors.

I love the brow shape they used on all of the women in this movie: very soft, smooth, and round, with just a slight taper at the end.

Here's Bahaar in the film's final song sequence, gloating over the inevitable sad fate of our star-crossed lovers. I adore this last outfit of hers, a heavily-beaded, all-black number covered with jewelry. I also like that they painted her lips red to match the henna on her fingers and toes. I think, by the way, that this is one of the surviving scenes originally shot in technicolor--again, that'll be important later, I promise.

Let's move on to our Anarkali, played by Madhubala. Honestly, it took me a while to get the hype; I actually thought she was less pretty than Nigar Sultana the first time I saw the film. I think the difference is that Nigar has a very striking face with dramatic features, whereas Madhubala's face is a little more "open" and uniform. It takes a while to grow on you. I can now see that the perfect symmetry of her face, the natural rosebud shape of her lips, and the sparkle in her eyes made her one of the great Bollywood beauties.

Also, if you've ever seen any Bollywood images or gifs, you're probably recognizing this sequence. The image of Anarkali lifting her veil and giving us the first clear view of her face is especially famous:

A close-up of Anarkali's makeup in this scene--I can't remember any other scene where she's very clearly wearing eyeliner. Here she's got a bit of shadow smoked on her lids (also visible in the black and white version, though of course you can't tell what color it is) and some winged eyeliner. I get the impression they didn't use false lashes or even much mascara in this scene, but that definitely changes later. Her eyebrows also seem thinner and more arched.

Here's a more hazy sort of makeup: brown shades have been used to add definition to her eyes, her lips are glossy, and her brows are now less arched.

Oh, hey, and let's talk about the other girl in that second picture for a second!

That's Sheila Dalaya playing Anarkali's sister Suraiyya. She's a little firecracker of a character, with beautiful eyes and a smile that lights up the screen. I wish she got more screen time.

Alright, back to Madhubala.

Mughal-e-Azam's rendition of natural makeup on the top left, the day after on the right and bottom left. Sometimes you'll notice this glossy texture on the lids, and I'm wondering what they used to do it. I'd actually love to duplicate that look nowadays, but I hate the feeling of lipgloss on the lids and I can't seem to find a face gloss I like. If anybody has a recommendation, hook a sister up.

Black-and-white films used to use glitter or even gold dust on actress' skin to create a luminous effect. You can see it a bit on Madhubala's forehead here, and if you actually watch the film, you'll see her face glittering at a few points. While the reflect looks outright glittery in color, it's not as visible if you watch the same scenes in black and white. Case in point:

Somebody who is more science-y needs to explain this to me. Is it because the fewer colors in the black and white version creates a blurred effect? Do we just notice light more when it's "colorful?" Heeeelp!

There are definitely some false eye lashes on the bottom left.

One of the things I find very interesting is how clear Madhubala's acne is under her makeup in some scenes. I don't say that to be nasty: I'm honestly glad that a great beauty didn't have to have skin like porcelain to be considered lovely.

The pictures of Anarkali wearing that stunning red and blue outfit come from the song sequence for "Pyar Kiya To Darna Kiya." It's the film's most popular song, one of the most famous scenes, and one of the sequences filmed in Technicolor. It's an absolutely stunning piece of cinematography with great music, so please consider giving it a watch. I really enjoy the makeup, too; the red lipstick and blush read very 50s to me. Oh, and fun fact: that style of clothing is actually called an anarkali.

Okay, so...here's what the whole "what is the original Technicolor and what was recolored?" thing gets screwy. In this scene, Anarkali leaves the room wearing a warm pink lipstick, the same color the colorization company painted on half of the women for most of the film. Then she enters another room for the final music sequence, the veil comes off...and she's wearing a rich red. Did they screw up the recoloring process? Or was that song sequence filmed in Technicolor, and that red is the appropriate color? I think it was the latter, based on how the entire scene looks. So why recolor her lips peach instead of red? I dunno, I'm probably overreacting, but it drives me batty.

More gratuitous pretty! The jewelry is very carefully colored to match the wearer's clothing--such a nice touch. Also, I dig dudes who wear pastels and pink.

When Salim first sees Anarkali, he actually thinks she's a statue. A sculptor hasn't been able to finish his work, so he's covered Anarkali in gray paint and asked her to stand in the statue's place. It's actually kind of cool.

Let's show some love for yellow in this movie. I look like garbage in yellow, but it works well in Mughal-e-Azam.

These bitches have a "melodic debate" about love with background singers in matching outfits. I just can't, you guys; it's too good. You may find the singing grating if you aren't used to the back-of-the-throat, up-in-the-nose sort of vocals so prevalent in classical Indian music, but I love it.

Fair warning: newer copies of this film usually include the digitally remastered version of the music, which is clearer and less grainy. But this was the only decent version of "Teri Mehfil Mein Kismat Azmakar" I could find with English subtitles. My apologies for the sound quality. If you like the lyrics, definitely check out the remastered version.

Inspiration: Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham

Have you ever bought something sight unseen because it was a movie that featured your favorite actor, or a magazine with an article about a writer you adore, or a picture taken by the best artist? That's what happened with me and Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham: I found out it had some of my favorite Bollywood actors in it, namely Kajol, and I plonked down my cash as soon as the DVD was released. As it turns out, the movie is another Karan Johar melodrama, filled with stupidly rich people in stupidly big houses wearing stupidly gorgeous clothes, even when they're waking up in the morning or vacuuming their rugs.

But you know what? It's effective. You get attached to several of the characters, some of the jokes are hilarious, the soundtrack is uneven but overall decent, and it makes me tear up every now and then. The real delight for me, though, is Kajol, who lights up the screen with her flawless comedic timing and her striking looks.

So the plot! Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (or K3G for short) focuses on two brothers, a business student named Rahul and his much younger brother Rohan. Rahul is clearly favored by his father Yash, a wealthy businessman, and his mother Nandini. Rahul falls in love with a vivacious but less wealthy woman named Anjali, and when Anjali's father dies, Rahul marries her against his father's wishes. Yash casts them out. A decade later, Rohan discovers that his brother lives in London, and he journeys off to bring his family together.

Yeah, it's just as contrived as it sounds, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it. Also, my brother decided to borrow my K3G DVD and show it in the classroom, and it was apparently a real hit. For better or worse, this is a Bollywood crowd pleaser.

As a side note, they do eventually reveal that Rahul was adopted. It doesn't affect the plot much, though; it's really just a cheap " Le shock!" moment and a device that allows Rahul and Rohan to marry two sisters.

Rani Mukherji appears in this film as the woman Rahul's father wants him to marry. She's so gorgeous that, if you watch any movie she starred in from the mid 90s in to the early 2000s, you'll notice she's almost always introduced in slow motion, whipping her hair across her shoulder and slowly smiling in to the camera. Seriously, she's so freaking lovely that my friend choked on his own spit the first time he saw her.

And they always do her makeup right: there's usually a strong eyeliner stroke with a slight flick on top of a slightly-warm eyeshadow to bring out her eyes. The one exception seems to be the dark purple eyeliner they put on her in one scene, which is decidedly cool-toned.

I tried to take a few more photos of Mukherji's makeup in that scene so you could see the purple, but the lighting isn't the best.

Also, quick appreciation for the fantastic makeup job on Jaya Bachchan. Her skin looks fantastic and the subtle definition around her eyes really brightens up her whole face.

But since I talked her up so much in the introduction, let's move on to my girl Kajol. Honestly, I just love her. She's not as strikingly, unbelievably gorgeous as Rani Mukherji, Aishwarya Rai, Priyanka Chopra, or any of the other big-name beauties, but the fact that she's so different is part of what makes her stand out. Excluding her light hazel eyes, Kajol's features are not as soft and stereotypically feminine as those of most other Bollywood actresses, and she's well known for embracing a borderline unibrow. Yet this signature look of hers--the beige nude lip and the sharp, super-black eyeliner all around her eyes--really highlights her quirky good looks.

I think it's especially obvious how well this dark-eyes-light-mouth look suits her when you compare her to Simone Singh, who plays Anjali's best friend Rukhsaar. Simone has the eyeliner, too, but it's not quite as thick or as heavy as Kajol's, and her eyeshadow and lipstick are softer pastel pinks.

They do change her look up a bit during the film, including the pinker lip and smaller amount of eyeliner in the top left corner and the heavier, smokier eye makeup in the bottom left corner. Not surprisingly, the former is when Rahul is imagining Anjali interacting with his accepting parents and the latter is when Rahul is imagining practically eating her neck. They're both pretty, but the standard Kajol look is still my favorite.

Let's move on to Kareena Kapoor, who plays Anjali's younger sister Pooja. I've never been a big Kareena fan, in part because her attitude in interviews tends to grate on me, in part because I think it took her a damn long time to learn how to act. But the scene that introduces adult Pooja to the film? Ugh, so good. With her matching lavender bedspread, hairdryer, and pajamas, and her extensive morning beauty routine, she is every bit as fabulous as I wish I was.

Also, see that lipstick? I was on a feverish quest to find that lipstick when this movie came out. Somebody pointed out that it was an Estee Lauder Pure Color lipstick, and the shade looked a lot like Pinkberry. I rushed out and bought it, and while it's a top notch lipstick (and likely the shade Kareena was wearing), it looked awful on me. Sadness.

While I'm not a huge Kareena fan, I think her square face, thin nose, sculpted cheek bones, and smaller, rounder mouth give her an interesting look that is usually highlighted by fantastic makeup. Whoever did her makeup for the scene in the top two pictures, however, did her no favors. The pastel colors don't seem to work on her skin and, mixed with the eyeliner, give her eyes a bit of a muddy look. The lipstick color is very pretty, but the lipliner they paired it with sometimes makes it look like she's sporting a mustache. I mean, am I just mean, or is that look just very unflattering?!

She looks much lovelier in the rest of the movie, though. I especially like the lashy eyes and muted plummy lip they gave her on the bottom left. And while the amount of metallic makeup she wears in some scenes is a bit much, what she's wearing on the bottom right seems very on-trend.

Who the Hell came up with some of these costumes, though? Pooja is supposed to be a bit of a fashionista, but a lot of what she wears is really off-the-mark. The tickery-tackery monster in me almost likes the clashing patterns she's wearing at the top, but a shirt that slopes down in a V to cup your breasts? Just...weird. And oh man, that red latex/pleather atrocity she wears to the "Prom!" (Do London college students have Proms?! Let me know.) Did Kareena piss off the costume department?

She looks beautiful in the Karva Chauth scene, though, with the angled top and the wide-leg pants in those soft pinks and silvers. I highly recommend watching that outfit in action!

Inspiration: Devdas

There are some Bollywood movies that I refer to as my "Music Only Movies." When somebody asks me, "Hey, what Bollywood movies have really great soundtracks and nice picturizations?", my Music Only Movies are the go-to. They're just what their name suggests: they're really only worth it for the music.

Now, some people are probably going to smack me in the face for saying that, because the 2002 adaptation of the popular novel is immensely...erm, popular. On the surface, there's a lot to love: an all-star cast (with Madhuri Dixit, Aishwarya Rai, and Shahrukh Khan headlining), lush scenery, a ridiculously huge budget, and three--count 'em, three--flawless dance sequences featuring Dixit to prove it. And yeah, the music is goddamn fantastic; few soundtracks can top it. So what's the problem?

Enjoy this picture full of gratuitous pretty, because at its heart, that's what Devdas is: an onslaught of Pretty Thing after Pretty Thing. The movie spends so much time being beautiful, it forgets to provide most of its characters with personalities. Granted, Bollywood movies are notorious for being grandiose and gorgeous. But Devdas makes it feel more like a detached fairytale than a dream come true.

That being said, it's really, really nice to look at and the music is mind-bogglingly good. Hence, Music Only Movie!

First up, let's take a look at Aishwarya Rai, aka "Paro." As I've mentioned before, using Rai as a source of inspiration is dangerous because she's so unbearably beautiful. But the way the makeup artists subtly altered her makeup throughout the film is, in my humble opinion, proof that makeup is a carefully-considered art.

Consider these images from the first half of the film: most of the colors are soft, glowy, and barely-there. The eyeliner is concentrated on her top lid and she's wearing super-full false lashes, enhancing her doe-eyed look. Nothing is particularly sharp, dark, or overdone--even her brows are natural and light by Bollywood standards. This is meant to make her look youthful and innocent.

As the film progresses and Paro becomes a more jaded, mature character, her makeup becomes darker. Of note: the images on the top row from her wedding day, where burgundy makes its appearance and her lips are more foiled than glossy, and the deep taupe look in the bottom left and center pictures. Her lower lashline is darkened in both looks, as compared to the bare lower lashline seen in the previous pictures.

This is not to say that they never give Paro those glowy neutrals again--see the bottom right image. Rather, the darker makeup doesn't show up until later. (Also, I think the neutral looks they give her later on aren't quite as soft and glossy as the earlier ones, but maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.)

Enter Madhuri Dixit, that great goddess who inspires the likes of Lisa Eldridge! (Comparing her to Kate Winslet, though...not quite accurate. I'd say she's even more iconic, a la Meryl Streep.) Dixit plays Chandramukhi, a "hooker with a heart of gold" character.

Note that she wears darker golds and burgundies when she's in "full courtesan" mode (on the right), whereas her day-to-day makeup features more mauve and pink shades. I always felt like this was meant to highlight the character's duality, ie, "she is more than what you think she is."

Two snaps and a clap for Kirron Kher! She doesn't get enough love, especially for her work in Devdas. Please take a moment to appreciate how this woman lights up the screen. She plays Paro's mother. Interestingly, her makeup is similar to Paro's in the first half of the film, but not the same: the colors are similar, but not as softly blended, and the finishes are more matte.

I will never get over images of unfairly beautiful women soaking their hair in a fountain. I know it's Bollywood Period Piece Trope #1, but it gets me every time.

I want everyone to really enjoy that picture on the right, because it took a lot of stopping and starting to capture it. I mean, I love "Dhola Re," so it was as much for me as it was for the blog...but still. STILL.

I'll finish this off by saying that if you're interested in Bollywood, but you've never seen Devdas, you should probably give it a watch. Yeah, I know, I said I only watch it for the music these days...but I did watch it the whole way through several times. It's iconic, after all!

Inspiration: Taal

I had a request for more Bollywood-centric inspiration posts. I live to please, so I decided to pick a film that is particularly popular with Bollywood newbies and casual Hindi cinema viewers: Taal.

But first, I felt the urge to figure out why this movie is so popular with people who have seen nary another Bollywood film. To be completely blunt, it's kind of a shit movie. The heroes treat the heroine like a piece of meat whose only value is in her looks. The aforementioned heroine is kind of vapid and flat, and she does little more than dance and look beautifully doe-eyed (which, to be fair, is something Aishwarya Rai does perfect). The script is horrendous, bogged down with bad dialogue and blatantly obvious tropes. And it's very obvious that Coca-Cola was a sponsor: several scenes could double as Coke commercials.

Then I rewatched the film and remembered that the music is really, really, REALLY good. Also, the picturizations (the visuals that accompany the music, a la a music video) are stunning--maybe a bit odd if you aren't open to Bollywood culture, but still, stunning. And I remembered that when I was new to Bollywood, every shitty movie was a "masterpiece" to me because of the sheer beauty of it all. So okay, I get it. I won't judge you.

Let the fun begin!

Sometimes, the "she's not wearing makeup!" look the artists give Aishwarya in her movies is absolutely nude, sheer, and untraceable. But the majority of her "natural" looks are similar to what you see in the top right and bottom left corners here: matte swatches of grey and burgundy on the eyes, and a soft wash of coral pink on the lips and cheeks. It's obvious, but flattering. Also, check out the bright lipsticks on the gals in the bottom right picture--hurrah!

Man, I dig that red scarf. I don't care if it's supposed to be her scrubby workout clothes! PS: obligatory mehndi.

It's hard to make Aishwarya Rai look simultaneously beautiful and ugly, but somehow, that makeup on the bottom left manages. Is it weird that I still enjoy it? And here, there's our "truly nude-looking" natural makeup at the top!

It was so unbelievably hard to get that top right picture. And it's a shame, because the stage makeup she's rocking there is actually really cool. Also, take note of the very 90s makeup on the bottom left! That shot tempts me to try MAC Taupe lipstick, even though my coloring is the complete opposite.

It's hard to rock a powder blue crop top ensemble, but if anybody can get away with it, it's Aishwarya Rai. And I could dupe that green look! (I think...it looks a lot like Chanel Epatant, yeah?)

Last, but not least, here's the sample song: "Ishq Bina." It's all beautiful and gorgeous until it turns in to a Coca-Cola advertisement, I swear! If you like this song (or even if this one doesn't melt your butter), definitely give the rest of the soundtrack a listen. Taal has endured for a reason.

Inspiration: Pakeezah

Pakeezah is a rare treat of a Bollywood film. While it's full of melodramatic moments and beautiful dance sequences like all "Hooker with a Heart of Gold" films, it also breaks free of the old tradition by highlighting the vicious cycle of prostitution: it is not their own actions that tumble these women in to infamy, but rather the expectations and prejudices of others. Nargis and her daughter Sahib, both courtesans who meet grim fates, are nevertheless driven to improve their lives and find true love. Beneath the majesty of their costumes and the perfection of their makeup, these are strong women who resist defeat. I will always appreciate Pakeezah for that.

But today, the film is best remembered for the fantastic music and the troubles that surrounded production. It took almost 15 years to complete the film. During the break, the incomparable Meena Kumari (the star) and the talented Kamal Amrohi (the director) divorced, the composer and the cinematographer died, and sections of the movie filmed in black-and-white became obsolete, requiring do-overs when filming resumed. By that time, Kumari's body was ravaged by alcoholism; she found it difficult to even move, and a body double had to be brought in for long shots on the final** dance sequence. Kumari died at the age of 39 less than 2 months after Pakeezah was released.

Yet Kumari's pain is never visible, or if it is, it is so artfully transformed in to her character's anguish that it's unrecognizable as anything but great acting. I was able to distinguish some of the portions shot just before Kumari's death by looking closely at her face (they pancaked her quite heavily to mask jaundice and age), but it felt wrong, and I quickly decided against pointing these moments out. It wouldn't be fair to degrade a powerful performance that was over a decade in the making.

It is my hope that this post will encourage classic film buffs and Bollywood fans to give Pakeezah a chance. Here it is on YouTube with English subtitles.

You're going to see a lot of that coral-pink lip in this movie. Also, notice the tips of fingers and toes dyed red with henna: this has apparently become a popular fad amongst western musicians and actresses.

I didn't take too many shots of the clothes, seeing as this is a makeup inspiration post...but feel free to admire some of the beautiful textiles you see here.

One of the little Pakeezah makeup quirks that has always intrigued me is the flicks. The eyeliner isn't sharply angled the way modern cat-eyeliner is; rather it's drawn almost straight out. It's also confined to the top lashline. Interestingly, the brows are given a similar flick, giving the illusion that the Kumari's eyes are more lifted/pointed at the outer corners. Shimmery products were clearly used on her eyes in many scenes, as well as across her skin, probably to give her a more luminous appearance in this pre-HD film.

The top 2 images are sans liner, but they still give Kumari a somewhat feline eye shape by thickening her lashes more at the outer corners. It also looks like they used matte gray and brown eyeshadows to alter how deepset her eyes appear.

Notice the range in lip colors here. Pakeezah has everything from that bright peachy coral to soft pinks to bold reds. Also, the thick, dark lines, particularly when it comes to brows: strong, painted-on brows are a Bollywood trademark to this day.

** There is some disagreement on this point. Some people say that a body double was used on just one dance sequence, while others say a body double was used for the long shots in every dance sequence. I lean towards the latter, seeing as there are often complicated kathak sequences in which the heroine's face is covered with a veil, or where she is filmed from the back and doesn't turn around in the same shot. Still, the switch is seamless, the sequences are gorgeous, and Kumari still does a good amount of the dancing. Case in point: "Inhi Logon Ne."