The current generation of film and television buffs probably know Mithun Chakraborty as the avuncular ‘judge’ on ‘reality’ dance shows or as an elder character actor in sundry films. However, few will recollect his popularity amongst the masses in his heyday, attributable to his dancing and action skills. He had best of both the worlds –– as a star, loved by teeming millions and as a formidable actor won three national awards, including for his debut film Mrigyaa directed by Mrinal Sen.
In Rajshri Productions Taraana (one of the highest grossing films of 1979), he is seen with Ranjeeta, with whom he had a successful pairing in several films. Directed by Deepak Bahry, it has the stamp of Rajshri banner all over –– clean, wholesome entertainment, a surfeit of songs, good music, picturesque locales (captured aesthetically by Arvind Laad) and a strong support cast.
The story (by Khalid-Narvi, who also penned the screenplay and the dialogues) starts with Thakur Rattan Singh (Om Shivpuri) and his, wife (Urmila Bhatt) fixing the wedding of their little daughter, Radha, with Shyam, son of another Thakur. After the exchange of promises in the precincts of a temple, the two families are travelling across a river on a boat when they encounter a torrential storm, leading to the boat capsizing. While Shyam’s parents are killed in the mishap, little Radha goes missing. When a widespread search fails to find Radha, Shivpuri and Urmila decide to rear Shyam as their own child.
However, in a twist of fate, Radha is washed ashore and is found by Rana (Shree Ram Lagoo), the kind hearted head of a nomadic (banjara) tribe who decides to rear her renaming her as Rani. After a jump of 15 years, the girl becomes a street performer (Ranjeeta). During one such performance she meets Shyam and it is love at first sight.
On being aware of this Rana is petrified as he knows Shivpuri will never agree to this match. However, beseeched by Rani, he goes to Thakur’s haveli and pleads with him to accept Rani as his daughter-in-law. With the latter refusing Rana informs Rani, who accepts her fate and visits the haveli to return the gifts received from Shyam. The wily Thakur does not allow her and in turn plants a story in Shyam’s mind, hinting at her betrayal. Though convinced Shyam refuses to marry the girl chosen by his father.
With truth dawning on Shyam he goes to Rana disguised as a banjara seeking Rani’s hand. Initially disagreeing he relents anddecides to solemnize the wedding. On hearing this fromJageera (Sharat Saxena, a banjara whodesperately seeks Rani) the Thakur attacks the temple where the marriage ceremony is taking place. In the ensuing melee, his wife gets hold of the doll which their daughter was carrying with her name, Radha, on it leading to a happy ending.
Mithun gives a restrained performance and the film provided him a platform for doing more commercial films, like “Disco Dancer”.
Ranjeeta looks fairly petite as the banjara girl, and performs dance numbers with diligence and aplomb, although her dialogue delivery leaves a lot to be desired –– in some scenes there is a definite hamming of lines.
Shreeram Lagoo, as the ‘outlandish wig’ wearing Rana is competent in his trademark acting style, even though dialogues given to him are farfetched at times. The remaining cast like Om Shivpuri, Urmilla Bhatt and Sharat Saxena perform their parts well. There is an unnecessary comic track inserted through Jagdeep, which mars the pace at times (making the work of editor Mukhtar Ahmed that much more difficult), and could have been avoided.
The music by Raam Laxman, set to lyrics by Ravindra Rawal and Tilakraj Thapar, is endearing, especially the tracks, “Gunche lage hain kehne (Shailendra Singh) and “Sultana, mera naam hai Sultana” (Usha Mangeshkar). Raam Laxman did not use vocals of more established singers of the times, instead, preferring Singh and Usha Mangeshkar, along with an assortment of singers.
