Cineplot.com » Nighat Sultana http://cineplot.com Sun, 26 Dec 2010 10:16:58 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.0.3 Nighat Sultana http://cineplot.com/nighat-sultana/ http://cineplot.com/nighat-sultana/#comments Sat, 26 Dec 2009 18:56:26 +0000 admin http://cineplot.com/?p=1934 Nighat Sultana

Nighat Sultana in Aas Paas (1957)

Characters that are born on the celluloid breathe amongst people. Otherwise, they die young! If you have watched Hasan Tariq’s classic, Neend, from 1959, you would have noticed a young prostitute in the scenes from the coalminer’s colony, who sings merrily along the littered streets, to the refrains of the famous song by Rasheed Attre, Aik dil hai aur gaahak itnay, by Zubaida khanum. After the song, she meets a young man coming down the pathway, who turns out to be Asad Jaffri. She pleads with him for alms, for the made-up excuse that her father is terminally ill and she doesn’t have the money for his treatment. This role was performed by Nighat Sultana, who seemed gifted with characteristic features. Hasan Tariq first met her on the set of film, Saat Lakh, where he was the chief assistant director. He liked her instantly, and after Neend, they got married.

Nighat Sultana, was a fine artiste, who played quite a few good roles in films, although not many of them are available in the video market. Her father, Hasan Ali was a Bengali, who enlisted himself in the army during the 1st World War, and went to Iraq. He married an Iraqi Kurd woman, but had no child for a long time. After lots of prayerful pleadings from God, he was finally blessed with a girl, in 1935, whom he named Gulzar Begum. The girl was 14 years old, when Hasan Ali returned from Iraq, and settled in Karachi. He wanted his daughter to become a doctor. Gulzar Begum studied nursing and became a competent nurse, working in an army hospital for sometime. During this period, Hasan Ali suffered from blindness, and now, his daughter was the only earner for the family. At this juncture, Gulzar Begum was advised by his colleagues to approach the film industry, because she was good looking and graceful, and had much more chances of making it big in the films than toiling away remorselessly as the nurse, who is paid chickenfeed. So Gulzar went to Lahore, and met director, Aslam Irani, who screened-tested her and cast her in his film, Tarap. The film was released in 1953, with the leads played by Sudhir, Alauddin and Shammi, but flopped miserably. By now, she was known by her screen name Nighat Sultana. The reason for naming her thus for the screen could be that Nigar Sultana the famous Indian beauty and Darpan’s first love in films, was a byword for beauty and grace in the sub-continent, at that time. After some personnel disappointments, Nighat returned to Karachi, and was cast in Rafiq Ghaznavi’s Mandi, in a secondary role. Here, a well-known film-maker, Hasan Ali Fazlani observed her work and cast her as the lead in Pakistan’s first–ever Sindhi production, Omar Marvi. It is interesting to note that Omar Marvi was a big hit at the box-office, while Mandi was a flop.

Nighat Sultana continued to play the lead in small-budget films like Pyar Na Kar Nadan, Lakhpati, Chan Mahi and others, apart from a few top-grade ventures like Aas Paas and Neend. But it was in Riaz Shahid’s Susral, in 1962, that she played a character role of an invalid young girl very impressively. Amongst her other movies are included Thandi Sarak, Sassi Punhu (where she also played the lead), Pawan, Nooran, Pasban, Shohrat etc. In the later stage of her life, Nighat Sultana was asked to perform pivotal role as the “boss lady” in a film called Madam X, but the film remained incomplete. Her get-up and performance on the sets of the film proved, once again, that the grace and performance of Nighat Sultana was unmatched even at that advanced stage in her career.

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Chingari (1964) http://cineplot.com/chingari/ http://cineplot.com/chingari/#comments Sat, 26 Sep 2009 00:17:39 +0000 admin http://cineplot.com/?p=274 Shamim Ara in Chingari (1964)

Shamim Ara in Chingari (1964)

Chingari has all the qualities in greater measure of its predecessors: a musical score of rare virtuosity, mature craftsmanship, and a high standard of artistic integrity. What makes it stand out still higher is the significance of the theme, for it touches upon an issue of life as important as any other, and compels the audience to reflect as to what kind of society they might become if they did not find their cultural bearings. The theme poses a challenge, only a cultured mind (and in the present setup – a filmmaker of some courage) would dare to meet. And not only Khurshid Anwar, but the whole national cinema has reason to feel proud of the result achieved.

Like Fellini, Khurshid Anwar is deeply provoked by the corrosion of social, cultural and moral values in his society. But unlike the celebrated Italian, he neither assumes the role of a detached observer nor succumbs to morbid despair. While warning the society against dangers ahead, he does not find to offer a more satisfying alternative. There has been some slogan mongering on the subject on both sides of the Indo-Pakistan border but Chingari must rank as the first positive, cogent attempt to analyze the problem and tackle it in a sound and rational manner.

The film is aptly subtitled the story of a smoldering society. The source of mischief is identified, through a beautifully assembled title montage, as the unobstructed exposure of the youth to western sex literature, alien music, strip tease entertainment and the cult of exhibitionism.

A graphic presentation of the consequences of surrender to this cultural invasion forms the substance of the story. Two women, a young girl (Deeba) and her step-mother, are caught in the whirlpool of drunk parties, twist dancing, and frivolous living. One vice attracts another and life is corrupted to the core. A virgin compromises her virtue and a husband is driven to crime by faithless wife. By the time, the characters concerned awaken to the ugly realities of their situation, ghastly tragedy has engulfed not only the guilty but also the innocent ones associated with them.

In contrast, there is another set of people equally educated and prosperous who continue to enjoy the blessing of tranquility by pursuing their native cultural traditions. It is most significant that the writer does not cast his good set as a group of unenlightened obscurantist who blindly shun modernism. They are the people who have evolved a synthesis of the modern and traditional, who can distinguish love from lust and the joys of youth from a license for waywardness.

The medium selected for bringing out the contrast between the two sets of values is music. It is an appropriate selection, for music is capable of making the required comparison and it is used by a man eminently qualified for the job. Khurshid Anwar has no hesitation in characterizing alien music as a harbinger of cultural anarchy and pernicious influences, nor has he any difficulty in demonstrating the edifying and soothing effects of our own musical tradition. And while projecting the comparison he enlarges the scope of argument to include the criterion of artistic evaluation as well as the responsibility of the genuine artist. If the rejection of the concept of art as something divorced from the purpose of living is implied, the criticism of artists who turn away from contemporary life and people’s native tradition is pointed and explicit.

It is possible that some people will disagree with the thesis presented here in total or in part. But that is immaterial because this is the case of an artist putting forth his point of view and his convictions. The fact that matters is that Khurshid Anwar has blended image and sound to advance his arguments most effectively. This is film direction in the true sense of the word. He treats the allegory like story with remarkable single-mindedness. There is no superfluous incident, no melodramatic digression (such as a less uncompromising artist might attempt when a girl beseeches the man she loves to marry her sister), no forced relief; and no concessions to the vulgar. His sole interest is to show, quite unobtrusively, the revolting nature of things he wants people to despise, and the beauty of things they should appreciate. His montages are exceptionally effective especially where a twist dance is inter-cut with the wild frenzy of a mob incited to murder. All along, sound supplements the effect of the image and helps in recognizing the character’s motives. Whenever an evil thought crosses the misguided girl’s mind, a shrill jazz tune is played on the soundtrack and every moment of tender love is illustrated with soul raising melody.

The artistes play their assigned roles most convincingly. Deeba soars to stardom with a performance which is without blemish. She carries the major burden of the story with the assurance of a confident artist. Shamim Ara and Santosh display dignified restraint and Talish and Nighat do their bit adequately. Even Ejaz and Komal respond to their roles enthusiastically.

The music, as said earlier, reveals the wide range of the composer’s genius. Less than that it could not have served the purpose of the story. It will be unfair to treat it separately but those who must do so should not fail to appreciate the haunting melodies exquisitely scored and rendered with feeling by Noor Jehan and Mehdi Hasan. The lyricists also get into the mood and find words to complement the effect of visuals and music. The film’s technical values are excellent, the photography in particular – I. A. Rehman

Cast and Production Credits

Year - 1964, Genre – Drama, Country - Pakistan, Language - Urdu, Producer(s) -Mian Zahoor, Bashir Asghar and Kh. Khurshid Anwar, Director -Khurshid Anwar, Music Director – Khurshid Anwar, Cast -Shamim Ara, Santosh, Deeba, Ejaz, Talish, Komal, Nighat Sultana, Khurshid Shahid and Asad Jaffrey

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