Glitz Blitz:
Mithun Chakraborty was cast by B Subhash in Disco Dancer, because of his long legs. They had to match that dance-walk John Travolta did in Saturday Night Fever. Back in 1982, when the film was released, plagiarism was not such a great issue. Bappi Lahiri, whose music propelled the film to superhit status, had cut-paste some songs from several sources. The bad reviews hardly mattered because the film became such a success, that over time it acquired cult status. Which is why 40 years later, it has been chosen to be converted to a stage musical, to make audiences with twitchy feet, relive 80s cinema. It’s quite another matter that nostalgia for that period is felt only by those who did not live through it.
Through whatever lens it is seen or remembered, the film was awful. It hardly mattered that disco dancing was not even a profession that offered the practitioner such fame that he became a star, being chased by shrieking girls and adoring media, earning unimaginable wealth and even endorsing products. What were the genuine movie superstars of the time doing if the guy who pranced on stage grabbed all the fandom?
Even with a writer like Rahi Masoom Reza on board, the script was laughably bad, but used the Bachchan-ish popular trope of the time — poor boy beat evil rich man, and also wooed his daughter. There was no pretence of even basic technical finesse, but lots of girls jiggling their booties in shiny, skimpy outfits in the many dance numbers with psychadelic lights and mirrored disco balls.
The stage version, directed and choreographed by Rajeev Goswami, with Salim-Sulaiman reimagining the memorable songs like I Am A Disco Dancer, Jimmy Jimmy, Yaad Aa Raha Hai, Goron Ki Na Kaalon Ki, Auva Auva, Krishna Dharti Pe Aaja Tu, and adding a few of their own, uses this variety-entertainment aspect of the film, paring down the plot, such as it was, to a bare minimum, just to fit in the dance sequences. Like in Parsi Theatre of yore, a comedian (Rajat Sood) steps on stage between scenes with a stand-up act and ridiculous shairi.
If the film was kitschy, the stage version is blindingly gaudy, from the fluorescent costumes, to the bright LED lights and over-saturated projection of backdrops. When the dance numbers are on, globules of light gyrate at front of the stage. However, like the film, the play offered uncomplicated enjoyment, which was received with glee by the audience that shouted “once more” at the finale, got an encore of Yaad Aa Raha Hai, and danced in the aisles.
The plot of the film, further simplified by the play, is about a poor street dancer Jimmy (Arjun Tanwar), being propelled to disco-dancing fame by a manager David Brown (Raman Chanjotra), angry at the insulting arrogance of the existing dancing star, Sam (Varun Tiwari). Sam’s father (Gautam Berde-aping Ajit) tries his best to destroy his son’s rival, while his sister Kim (Tia Kar) falls in love with Jimmy. The white-clad mother (Komal Chhabria) looks incongruous amidst the bright bursts of colour, but in films of the 1980s, Maa was still an important figure, and they could not drop her. Some other characters like the uncle have been edited out, however, and a couple of comic parts added– like the gora goon, who mangles Hindi. and Jimmy’s sidekick who gets a rap number of his own, which was not there in the film. The romance is extended too, because of which the most popular songs are crammed into the second half.
To give credit where it is due, the dances are far better choreographed on the stage, in the film, there was more energy than grace in Chakraborty’s moves– he did not baulk at rolling on the floor and raising his leg, or swinging his hips like a belly dancer. The actors managed the tough task of singing live too, so the occasional off-key rendition can be overlooked.
The film had found unlikely success in Russia, China, Africa; the stage production sold out in the UK. Most people may not have seen the film, but what they are sold on is the eagerness to please; like a child turning cartwheels; only the most cussed grouch would look away without smiling.
Indian audiences, aggressively seeking entertainment post-pandemic, have never been discomfited by garishness, on screen or off (look at all the wedding outfit ads); they did not object to it in the film, they enjoy it even more on the stage, where it is dialled up by several degrees. If it is restraint or sophistication they are looking for, they bought the wrong tickets.
(An edited version of this piece appeared in scroll.in)
