I can't imagine another director who was as in control of his craft as Raj Kapoor was. Mera Naam Joker is an example of superb cinema. You can like or dislike it but people who appreciate cinematic quality will not deny the heart, soul, technique, and the artistic intensity with which it was made. Now, this film is not easy viewing, it is very entertaining, but it requires patience and it is perhaps one of the saddest films one can say. It's not just about particular scenes, it is the melancholy that Kapoor infuses it with. The film is the story of Raju, a famous clown who arrives on stage to give the last performance of his career. His invitees include all his past love interests, each representing a story of either heartbreak or unrequited love, or both, and three main flashbacks presented in three chapters proceed.
Mera Naam Joker could be described as slice-of-life cinema, given how real and detailed an account it is of one man's life, but if taken literally this would be an understatement, because it's a whole lifetime that is recounted in this picture. I'm not sure why Kapoor chose to make this film so sad in story and execution, and I often wonder if it was the outcome rather than his intention. Mera Naam Joker, of course, like many other films by Kapor, has moments of comedy, many such moments actually, but even beneath all of them, there's a deeply poignant foundation. Ironically, among the toughest and most heartbreaking scenes take place within the circus and even during a seemingly funny performance on stage. Some of these scenes are so poignant they really are tough to go through.
The film's first chapter is one of the most beautiful, sensitive portrayals of teenage life, puberty, and first love ever portrayed on screen. The character of Raju, that clumsy but lovable young adult, who has a heart of gold and a vulnerable soul, is a perfect reflection of the older clown. The way his teenage days are depicted, including his falling in love with his teacher Mary, his sexual fantasies, innocence, feelings of guilt, and romantic realisation, are just extraordinary. Rishi Kapoor is absolutely outstanding in this film, in one of the most natural, amazingly raw and unaffected performances one can imagine by a young man his age. His love interest Simi Garewal is wonderful as his caring teacher, and it's easy to see how this teenager fell in love with her given both her physical appearance and the cordial warmth she exudes.
The second chapter, set within a circus where a group of Russian entertainers arrive, is fascinating. First, being a bilingual episode, it is very rare, but the cultural and linguistic contact between the Indian and the Russian group is stupendous. This is where our protagonist meets the beautiful trapezist Marina, and their relationship is so beautifully portrayed and ends on such a touching, heart-wrenching note. Kseniya Ryabinkina is beautiful and radiant and plays really well opposite Kapoor. The third chapter, while clearly not as good as the first two, is also very interesting, but concludes on the most annoying note in relation to the characters' moral stand and Raju's attitude of accepting injustice and moving on. Padmini, the talented actress who was an extraordinary dancer, is fantastic in her part as the young woman pretending to be a man.
It would be fair to say Kapoor was the one filmmaker of Hindi cinema who had this incredible ability to exploit the raw sexuality of his heroines, sometimes by doing so little and without ever making them look vulgar or cheap. Few scenes could compare to the moment Simi Garewal steps out of the river she fell into and the right tip of her dress reveals her leg, the proceeding scene where she is seen undressing in the bushes, or her nude shot in young Raju's fantasies, which is shot brilliantly. The same can be said about the aesthetic brilliance with which Kseniya Ryabinkina is shot, and the moment Padmini reveals her identity as a woman and wears her sari is a scene of extraordinary artistic merit. The women in this film by Kapoor are the epitome of feminine beauty, each in her own way, and much of how well their beauty was captured is to Kapoor's credit.
Under his own extraordinary direction, Raj Kapoor, the actor, shines through. He employs most of his regular gestures and mannerisms, his well-known flamboyance and innocence, but just like with his circus persona, what lies beneath the surface of this amusingly eccentric man is a truly authentic, heartbreaking and compassionate performance of a man who spent his life wanting to make others laugh and never quite got his due. Other than Rishi Kapoor and the extraordinary leading ladies, Rajendra Kumar is there, Dharmendra and Dara Singh make nice appearances, although the best are Achala Sachdev as Raju's mother who fears most that her son would be a clown like his father, and particularly Manoj Kumar, the teacher's cool fiancé who immediately recognises Raju's feelings for his wife and accepts it with full understanding.
The film's narrative style and high production values are never less than excellent. The cinematography is excellent, and the background score keeps tugging at the heartstrings as it enhances the situations and gives life to an otherwise difficult story. The music by Shakar-Jaikishen is a classic of Indian cinema. "Ae Bhai Zara Dekh Ke Chalo", "Kehta Hai Joker Sara Zamana", "Ang Lag Jaa Balma", are all melodious, beautiful numbers brilliantly and soulfully sung by Manna Dey, Mukesh, and Asha Bhosle, respectively. The film's trademark number, of course, is Mukesh's poignant rendition of "Jeena Yahan Marna Yahan". This song pretty much sums up what Mera Naam Joker is, the sad story of a funny clown, a difficult film to watch but an ultimately rewarding experience. This film is a true example of the craftsmanship of Raj Kapoor, a true showman of Indian cinema who reinforced time and again the high quality present in mainstream films.
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