Produced in the same year as Phir Wahi
Raat in 1980, Red Rose also has among its cast Rajesh Khanna, Iruna Arani
and very likely that same psychotic black cat. In Phir Wahi Raat this cat
had revenge on its fur ball brain and went for the jugular, but the last
we saw of the cat, it was being swung around by its tail being readied for
space travel. So it is with relief that it shows up again in this film as
crazy as ever and still going for the throat and with a taste for blood. Red
Rose is an odd grimy subversive film that breaks many of the then conventions
of Bollywood – unfaithful wives, unfilial daughters, wanton middle class women
willing to have sex for advancement or money, a disdain for religion and
a main protagonist who is a serial killer.
What makes it all the more surprising is
that this protagonist is portrayed by none other than Rajesh Khanna, once
the romantic idol of millions. Termed by most sources as the first Superstar
of Indian cinema, he first hit it big with Aradhana in 1969 and went on to
a number of successive blockbusters with his smooth velvet appeal numbing
the hearts of Indian women everywhere. But time caught up with him quicker
than most like a cruel host running out of seconds for supper. India was going
through political and social ferment in the 1970’s and this soon was reflected
in the films and the rising star of the “angry young man”, Amitabh Bachchan
who pushed Rajesh to the sideline - and then in the mid-70’s audiences began
preferring the more natural romanticism of Shashi and Rishi Kapoor. His off-screen
life was in tatters as well – his well-publicized marriage to the very young
Dimple Kapadia had fallen apart, he had gained a reputation for being difficult
on the set and heavy drinking and age had taken some toll on his once boyish
looks. He was at a career crossroad and so he very admirably was willing
to take a chance on playing a blank psychotic killer in this film and allowed
the director to often film him in the most unflattering manner possible –
up close with his pores looking like giant potholes in New York City, distorted
at times, always looking like he needed a shower and over all creepy like
a subway molester. Admirable because Heroes very rarely played negative roles
in those days in Bollywood though it has become much more common of late.
This shattered every Rajesh archetype there was. And he is good at being
a tightly wound creep – just the small things he does like smugly opening
and snapping shut his cigarette case to some Tchaikovsky tune, the way a
cigarette hangs languorously out of his dead mouth, the void in his eyes,
the way he spits out the word “beautiful” – he is devoid of nearly every
human emotion except anger and . . . perhaps love.
On the surface Anand (Rajesh) might seem
like a good member of society – owning an export company, maintaining a beautiful
plush red themed home, giving to charity, growing red roses in his garden,
a faithful servant (Om Shivpuri) – but his life really revolves around the
hunting of women – tracking them, seducing them, bedding them and then killing
them all documented by a hidden camera. The director shies away from showing
any of the murders in any graphic sense – a strange choice but perhaps that
was going too far 30-years ago. Late in the film a fair amount of background
is related to show where his hatred of women comes from and why he wants
to kill and kill again. This is of course good for the rose garden. He eyes
up as his next target Sharva (Poonam Dhillon), an innocent girl right out
of the village whose “creep radar” hasn’t developed yet in the big city.
She works at a fabric store behind the handkerchief counter and he begins
to court her by buying one handkerchief each day and drooling over her like
a baked glazed ham. But Sharva is different from the other girls who he easily
led into bed – a good girl and a virgin – and virgins can’t be killed in
these kind of films can they? Sure virgins are good fodder for sacrifice
or for the regeneration of youth by sucking their life force out, but the
"virgins don't die" cliché still takes place today in films like the
recent Hollywood Taken – good girl lives, tramp dies. So the only way he
can seduce Sharva is by marrying her but underlying this is the possibility
that he has actually fallen in love with her but it is too late for happy
endings. Their wedding night turns into one pulsating murderous evening where
seduction becomes the last thing on anyone’s mind. One tip for you newly
weds out there, once you discover your husband is a psycho killer, don’t
stop to pack a suitcase – just get the hell out.
This could have been a pretty terrific film, but like most of these Bollywood
horror films I have seen it is just too long and there is an easy 30 minutes
here that could have been whacked off with no loss. And not that I am a gore
hound by any means, but the audience needed to see some of his killings and
the tension around that. There are only two song interludes sung by Asha
and Kishore but they were truly not needed and felt pointless – both projected
from the imagination of Sharva, first when she falls in love and then when
she waits patiently at home on their wedding night not yet aware that her
husband is as he says “planning games for tonight”. But I love the gritty
grotty manner this film was shot – using montages to disorient, oozing close-ups
to upset, discos that are dives, streets that are dark and empty – there
is a just a smidgeon of Taxi Driver and Cruising (1980) that permeates the
style of the film like a sweaty night. Red Rose was a remake of the director's
Tamil 1978 film, Sigappu Rojakkal, starring Kamal Hassan and Sridevi. The
Tamil version was quite successful but not so the Hindi remake.
My rating for this film: 6.0