The Evergreen Guide

In the 50th anniversary of one of Indian cinema's (then) brave new romances, we look back at what made Guide a Bollywood classic

It's pure gold. In the 50^th year of Guide, there may not have been much hoopla or celebratory odes in print about the film, sourced from a novel by stalwart writer R K Narayan (his Malgudi Days was adapted into a keenly watched TV series). But Guide, arguably, underscores Dev Anand's most accomplished performance and ranks as his younger brother Vijay Anand's most exemplary example of sturdy storytelling on screen.
Not surprisingly, its DVDs continue to zoom off the shelves of rental libraries, one of its posters (showing Dev Anand and Waheeda Rehman in an embrace) fetches the highest price at Bollywood memorabilia auctions, and its songs - Aaj phir jeene ki tamanna hai, Din dhal jaaye, Gaata rahe mera dil, and more - are rated as some of SD Burman's most evocative music scores ever, breathing life into Shailendra's unforgettable lyrics.
A list of best-of-Bollywood-classics by Time magazine placed Guide on the fourth rung, below Raj Kapoor's Awara (1951), Mehboob Khan's Mother India (1952) and Guru Dutt's Pyaasa (1957), but above Sholay (1975) and Deewar (1975). Dev Anand couldn't have liked the grading, since he was extremely competitive and always appeared to nurse the desire to top his peer Raj Kapoor's performances. And in 1965, the year of its release, the National Awards jury in India adjudged Guide as the third-best feature film of the year, a strange category which no longer features in the awards list.
Rankings and awards aside, Guide dominates the memories of those who watched it during its opening at Mumbai's ostentatious Maratha Mandir auditorium, half a century ago. For one, the usually jaunty Dev Anand, the stereotyped lover boy of the escapist entertainers of the day, was performing the title role with a twist of sobriety.
Playing Raju, a tourist guide, he is unwittingly mistaken for a godman and is, in fact, so altered that he actually becomes a spiritual leader who, by chance or by faith, heals the underprivileged in an area facing a killer drought. The romantic track, depicting his liaison with Rosie, a bored housewife who longs to dance against the wishes of her despotic husband, was remarkable for its boldness. Adultery on the screen, back in the '60s, was generally considered poison at the cash counters.

Result: a mega-success, which found favour among the masses and the mandarins alike. In form, the film stuck to the formula of songs-and-dances, melodrama, and even incredible coincidences. Yet, the conventions were executed with incomparable élan by Vijay Anand, an act which he almost equalled later that year with the crime thriller Jewel Thief.
The dark side of Guide's history is that R K Narayan was clearly not impressed. A few changes from the novel upset the perfectionist writer. The controversy was deflected, gratifyingly, by Dev Anand, who was always a charmer when it came to troubleshooting.
In fact, the project was bedevilled with glitches from the outset. Saira Banu was pencilled in to enact Rosie. When she hemmed and hawed, Wah-eeda Rehman was the next best option. And it goes without saying that she was a brilliant choice.
Her inspired performance was nothing short of extraordinary - specially the trance-like 'snake dance', which would often draw a standing ovation and even demands to the projection booth for an encore. In smaller towns, particularly, the projectionist would have to re-run the reel.
After Guide, the professional equation between Dev Anand and Waheeda Rehman unfortunately went through a setback. They did team up again in Prem Pujari, but the chemistry just wasn't the same.
For evidence of the rift, let me recall that Dev Anand had been requested to present a Lifetime Achievement trophy to Waheeda onstage at the Filmfare Awards event in 1994. The gracious actress had warned, "No, he won't agree; he's still upset with me for some reason that's beyond me." Dev Anand, never the sort to say no, agreed to do the honours. Only, he didn't show up at the event. The reasons for the discord between the legendary screen pair remain mysterious.
Incidentally, the eldest of the three Anand brothers, Chetan, was to direct Guide initially. Again, quite inexplicably, he dropped out and concentrated on his anti-war film Haqeeqat instead. The youngest brother, Vijay, was the next best option.
In addition, an element of mystery surrounds the international version of Guide. A more compact 120-minute run, it was directed by Tad Danielewski and scripted by the Nobel prize-winning writer Pearl S Buck, no less.
Rumours flew that this version had a bold intimate scene (filmed behind a mosquito nest, albeit) and despite its frankness, wasn't quite up to the mark expected by Dev Anand. The English-language version remains largely unseen. It was screened 42 years after it was made - at the Cannes film festival - but didn't quite make tidal waves, to put it politely.
Dev Anand passed away at the age of 88, in 2011. On being quizzed repeatedly, during his lifetime, if he would rate Guide as his best film and performance, he would duck the question with his trademark response, "No, no, my next film will be my best."
Fair enough. That was his take. In my mind, as a lifelong fanboy, Guide was Dev saab's crowning glory.
DIRECTOR'S CUT
Vijay Anand, Dev's younger brother and the less flamboyant of the two, was also an actor, producer, screen writer and editor, but is primarily remembered as a director.
Also known as Goldie, Vijay was responsible for directing Dev in some of his most popular movies.