WHETHER it was Mehmood, Johnny Walker, Johnny Lever or lead stars showing off their funny side, there have been many great comedians in Indian cinema across the decades.
But the first talented comedian was iconic actor Noor Mohammed Charlie. Armed with his trademark Charlie Chaplin moustache and a natural swagger, he changed the face of an industry dominated by musicals and melodramas, with laugh out loud entertainment.
A poster of Musafir
Born on July 1, 1911, he passed away on June 30, 1983, aged 71, so this week marks his birth and death anniversary.
Eastern Eye decided to honour both occasions of a pioneering cinema giant who transformed Bollywood and then helped lay the ground for Pakistani cinema after partition, by charting his remarkable journey, with the help of his US-based actor and TV personality grandson Yawar Charlie.
Born into a conservative Memon family, in Ranavav, a small village in the Gujarat state of Porbandar, Noor Mohammed hated studying, so played truant from school. The youngster was immediately enthralled by the emerging cinema industry and would watch films whenever possible. He would get odd jobs like repairing broken umbrellas.
Charlie's grandson Yawar Charlie
By the age of 16, the teenager with big dreams had left school and set his sights on the movies. He started working as a clapper boy for Imperial Film Company, after walking in and boldly claiming he was a great singer.
The die-hard Charlie Chaplin fan loved being in the bustling studio system and despite showing a great flair for comedy, he made his acting debut in the more dramatic, Krishna Film Company-produced Akalna Bardan (1928).
His high-energy antics inspired by slapstick Hollywood films hadn’t got unnoticed. After working in more dramatic movies, his first turning point came when he was signed by Elfin Film Company for The Indian Charlie in 1929. “Although that movie wasn’t released until 1933, it started his journey as an entertainer and comedian. It would lead him towards being re-christened as Noor Mohammed Charlie,” explained Yawar Charlie.
While a lot of silent stars were packed into retirement with the advent of talkies, the young actor immediately found fame with hit films like Zarina (1932), Premi Pagal (1933) and Chandrahasa (1933). He could act, speak the language, had a unique identity and a great singing voice, which was the perfect cocktail in the first decade of Indian talkies.
The massive success of these early talkies led him towards being signed by the esteemed Ranjit Movietone Studios in 1934, which resulted in hit films like Toofani Taruni (1934), Toofan Mail (1934), Musafir (1940) and many more, including Barrister’s Wife (1935), which had Hindi cinema’s first qawwali pictured on him. “His quick ascendancy within the studio led him to become the blue-eyed boy, and each film he worked on was an instant success. Such was his fame that (producer/director) Chandulal Shah released him from his contract, as his popularity began to eclipse his studio,” said Yawar.
Free from the studio system that held actors to ransom with a relatively low weekly salary, the all-round entertainer became one of the highest paid stars in Hindi cinema.
He was signed for films like Taqdeer (1943), which marked the movie debut as a lead of all-time great actress Nargis. “One of his first contractual signing for a substantial amount of 100,500 rupees was for the film Sanjog (1943), which was a resounding hit with Mehtab as the leading lady.”
The multi-talented star’s other many firsts included catchphrases that became popular. He also introduced method acting into Indian cinema and would train intensely for a part to make it look more real. He was also an accomplished musician and singer. He composed popular songs like Panchi Mera Kahe Mach’s Shor, which was based on an Italian opera. That million selling song saw him lend vocals to it, alongside famous singers Suriaya and Khursheed.
A poster of Sanjog
By the early 1940s, the magnificent movie star was unstoppable and made his directorial debut with Dandohra (1941), which he also produced and played a double role in. That movie would get one of the highest open weekends at the box office when it was released, such was the expectation. Charlie tried to push the limits of comedy in a conservative country in films such as Bansari (1943), which was labelled by some critics as obscene, but was ahead of its time. Yawar, explained: “It would have been easy for him to base his entire career around comedy, but he hated being in the comfort zone, so was always looking to cross new creative horizons, whether it was filmmaking, music, a new type of acting or new types of stories.”
Despite becoming a major power player and setting up a state-of-the-art studio, he migrated to Pakistan with his family and walked away from the considerable fame he enjoyed in India. Not one to disconnect himself from creativity, Charlie helped kickstart the Pakistani film industry. “My grandfather made a home in Lahore, where he starred in the Punjabi films Mundri (1949) and Beqarara (1950). Although Lahore didn’t entirely suit his taste, he purchased a Kodak agency. He also established cinemas, and even started a small jersey-weaving factory.”
He would act in Urdu, Punjabi, and Sindhi films like Umer Marvi (1956), opposite Meena Shorey, an actress who had also migrated to Pakistan after partition.
Although he left India in 1947, his influence remained with iconic comedians like Mehmood and Johnny Walker being greatly influenced by him. He made a return to India in the early 1960s and was persuaded to reignite his Bollywood connection with films like Mera Ghar Mere Bachche (1961) and Akeli Mat Jaiyo (1963). That comeback was short-lived because the Indian government wouldn’t give him citizenship and the heartbroken actor returned to Pakistan, to act in a few more Lollywood films.
Noor Mohammed Charlie
The cinema legend eventually relocated to America and made a new life there with his family. He returned to Karachi to lay his wife to rest and passed away six months later, on June 30, 1983.
“He frequently went on religious pilgrimages to Haj and Umrah. He constantly embraced new experiences as he believed a world existed beyond cinema and the sub-continent. He encouraged others to explore that big wide world.”
Many of his films were remade, including Taqdeer being adapted as Duniya Ka Mela (1974), with Mehmood taking on Charlie’s role. Apart from those he influenced creatively, his legacy was continued by his famous Pakistani film and TV actor son Latif Charlie. His grandsons Yawar Charlie and Dino Latif continue that legacy, in acting, TV and radio. All the comedy that is present in Pakistani and Indian cinema can be traced towards the influence of Noor Mohammed Charlie.
The actor’s evolving style from youth to maturity getty images
Aamir Khan embracing vintage looks with classic charmgetty images
Bold and dramatic changes defining Aamir Khan’s careergetty images
From rugged to refined Aamir Khan’s versatile appearancesgetty images
Memorable film moments showcasing Aamir Khan’s unique stylegetty images
Aamir Khan’s blend of classic and contemporary fashiongetty images
Aamir Khan’s dedication to authentic character portrayals getty images
Cinematic milestones reflected in Aamir Khan’s on-screen imagegetty images
A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Them performing liveNajmuddin Saifuddin Qawwal Group
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5