Even though Guru Dutt made only eight films, he is a revered figure in the world of cinema. Impulsive but thorough, short-tempered but empathetic, the man was a strange combination of the self-doubting artiste and the unparalleled genius.

By Vidhi Salla

When Raj Kapoor watched Kaagaz Ke Phool, he remarked the film had been made way ahead of its time; that the audience would not be able to understand it, but future generations will study it and take pride in this filmmaker. Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959), widely considered director, producer, actor Guru Dutt’s autobiographical film, was declared a flop when it released and ran for barely a week in some theatres. Much like a scene in the film in which the audience shouts angrily at director Suresh Sinha for making a terrible movie, Dutt was dissed by audiences and critics alike. A review that appeared in Filmindia magazine read, “Kaagaz Ke Phool is an utterly undistinguished picture except that it is made in Cinemascope. It is a depressing, incoherent tale boringly told.” The film’s colossal failure compelled Dutt to never add a director’s credit to any of his future films. It wasn’t the criticism but the failure of his audiences to understand him that dejected Dutt. Today, Kaagaz Ke Phool is considered a masterclass in filmmaking. The film was commercially released in France in the 1980s, has been screened at numerous international festivals since and is on the syllabus of several filmmaking courses around the world.

One of the many reasons why Dutt’s films are celebrated several decades after he made them was that in a world of make-believe, he never shied away from showing the bitter truths of human existence; the emotions and reactions of his characters mirrored the agony of the real world. Just like his films, he was born ahead of his times, battled depression and, according to some, alcoholism, and left the world too soon. His early training in dance, the formative years spent in Calcutta, the family’s financial hardships, his father’s discontentment with his writing career, the trauma of losing a brother in his childhood, marital problems— all of it influenced and shaped Dutt’s personality and reflected in his most personal works.

Early Years

The first of five children, Dutt was born on 9th July 1925 and given the name Vasanth Kumar Padukone. When Dutt was two, he had a severe fall resulting in a head injury and a fever that lasted two weeks. The family summoned a priest who suggested that his name be changed. The family decided to name him Gurudutt Padukone because he was born on a Thursday, a guruvaar. When he joined the film industry, he dropped his last name and called himself Guru Dutt.

The Padukone family endured severe financial struggles when Dutt was young and even lived separately in different places including Mangalore, Madras, Bangalore, Ahmedabad, finally settling in Calcutta where his father, Shivshankar Padukone, got a steady job. The artistic atmosphere of Calcutta and support from his mother Vasanthi Padukone’s cousin, painter B.B. Benegal, proved to be just the nurturing environment for the artiste in Dutt to flourish. He exhibited an early interest in the performing arts and obsessively attended jatras, musical theatre performed by wandering artistes who staged regular shows at an open space near the Padukone residence. It was in Calcutta that Dutt learned to speak Bengali and imbibed several mannerisms and Bengali influences that were evident in films like Pyaasa (1957). His uncle’s painting, ‘Struggle for Existence’, of a half-clad man holding a snake coiled around his body so inspired Dutt that he choreographed a dance without any prior training or experience in the form. At the time, Uday Shankar was a celebrated name and his dance academy in Almora was known to have an unconventional all-round approach to artiste development. With help from his uncle, Dutt received a scholarship to go to the institute where he studied and toured with Shankar’s dance troupe for years.

After Shankar’s company shut down, Dutt moved to Bombay where his family now lived. With the Second World War at its peak and no suitable work in sight, Benegal recommended Dutt to take up a job at Pune’s Prabhat Studios as a choreographer. In addition to choreography, Dutt also worked as a directorial assistant and actor in some of Prabhat Studios’ films. It was here that he met his future pal, then struggling actor Dev Anand, and the two vowed to give each other work when either of them became famous. The end of Dutt’s contract with Prabhat Studios coincided with the partition of India. He was jobless, aimless and hopeless like many young people of the time. That year of desolation resulted in the birth of a story called ‘Kashmakash’ which years later became his masterpiece, Pyaasa. Anand’s promise to Dutt materialised in 1951 when the latter made his directorial debut with Baazi under Navketan Films, marking the beginning of a promising career as a filmmaker.

A Jeweller’s Eye

Among the many characteristics of Dutt’s films that earned him the title of auteur-director, perhaps the most important one was the lighting and camera angles. Together with his long-time collaborator and cameraman V. K. Murthy, Dutt has created frames that look like paintings; the most iconic of them being the wide shot in Kaagaz Ke Phool where a streak of light slices the otherwise dark studio room into two. Sinha and his muse, the actress Shanti (played by Waheeda Rehman), stand on either side of the light, interacting silently about the blows of circumstances on their relationship and the song ‘Waqt Ne Kiya Kya Haseen Sitam’, written by Kaifi Azmi, effectively expresses their emotions. Another memorable shot is in the film Pyaasa, when the protagonist, poet Vijay (also played by Dutt) assumed to be dead is shocked to witness the launch of his book and the posthumous honours being showered upon him. He sings in disbelief, ‘Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaaye Toh Kya Hai’ while standing in the frame of the auditorium door, his outstretched arms and the backlit frame creating a Christ-like silhouette while his face is dark; depicting the world’s adulation of the shadow of a person they created rather than the man himself. Close-up shots taken with a 100-mm lens in his films came to be known as ‘the Guru Dutt shot’. When Dutt passed away unexpectedly at the age of 39, cameraman Murthy lamented not only the loss of his mentor but also his own technique. He believed that Dutt had the “eye of a jeweller” and brought out the best in everyone that he worked with.

Another significant aspect of Dutt’s filmmaking was his skill for song picturisation. As much as he found them a distraction in the flow of the narrative, he believed that a song should not only express the emotions of the characters but also take the story forward. His songs were stories and scenes unto themselves, designed to retain the attention of audiences. A fine example is ‘Jaane Woh Kaise Log The’ from Pyaasa when aspiring poet Vijay, after being treated like a servant at his boss’s party, suddenly breaks into this poetic expression of people’s fickleness, stunning all the guests as well as the audience. A more playful number from Aar-Paar (1954), ‘Sun Sun Sun Sun Zaalima’, is picturised in a garage, the workspace of the protagonist, Kalu Birju. Despite the restrictions of space, the lovers’ playful banter is creatively framed by placing the camera inside the window of a car under repair as the actors move to the rhythm of the song. Dutt’s skill shows maturity in the song ‘Na Jao Saiyan Chhuda Ke Baiyan’ from Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962). An inebriated Chhoti Bahu (played to perfection by Meena Kumari) is seen making a last-ditch effort to keep her husband, Chhote Sarkar (played by Rehman), from visiting the courtesan by drawing his attention to her beauty by singing, ‘Yeh bikhri zulfein, yeh khilta kajra, yeh mehki chunari, yeh mann ki madira’, only to resort to the devotion of a wife that so repels her husband, ‘Tumhare raste ki dhul lekar main maang apni sadaa bharoongi’, it elicits a literal yawn from him. Even though Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam was directed by Abrar Alvi, Dutt was called in to shoot and choreograph the song sequences.

A Broken Soul

Dutt’s marriage to Geeta Dutt was a happy one until ego clashes and insecurities crept up between them, according to an interview with his sister and artist, Lalita Lajmi, that appeared in the August 2014 issue of Filmfare. His turbulent marriage combined with the failure of Kaagaz Ke Phool exacerbated his melancholic tendencies. Even though he made several successful films after that such as Chaudhvin Ka Chand (1960), Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962) and Baharen Phir Bhi Aayengi (1966), he remained producer and never added a director’s credit to the films fearing that he was bad luck. Dutt was a sensitive soul prone to depression and had attempted suicide twice. He died alone in his Peddar Road flat on 10th October 1964 allegedly from a deliberate overdose of sleeping pills. Those who were close to him recalled in various interviews how he seemed off during that phase and was definitely feeling a sense of alienation despite having friends and family to check on him. He was known to never share his feelings or emotions with anyone.

An excerpt from his article called ‘Classics and Cash’ in Celluloid magazine is perhaps a window into how he felt as an artiste in the world: “In the formula-ridden film world of ours, one who ventures to go off the beaten track is condemned to the definition which Matthew Arnold used for Shelley: ‘an angel beating wings in a void’. I believe that one who goes out against the winds has to be prepared for bouquets and brickbats, for triumphs as well as heartbreaks, whether or not one only makes a classic or collects the cash. It is this baffling unpredictability that gives edge to the thrill of movie-making.”

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Vidhi Salla is a journalist and film curator based in the U.S. where she regularly introduces Bollywood classics to foreign audiences. In July 2022, as part of the film programming for a non-profit called Halcyon Arts in Amherst, Massachusetts, she hosted a screening of Guru Dutt’s Pyaasa for discerning audiences.

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This article was originally published in the August 2023 issue of ON Stage.