Clerk (1989)

Manoj Kumar continues with his “Bharat” films, where he symbolises Hindustan and all its virtues pitted against waves of corruption and evil coming from all directions. Upkar, Purab aur Paschim, Shor, Kranti, Roti Kapda aur Makaan all featured the same “Bharat” character; downtrodden, demoralised, misunderstood, frustrated, deceived, wronged in every way and at every step, yet not defeated. Manoj Kumar’s Bharat always rises to the challenge at the end demolishing evil and paving the way for a better and brighter future for his earnest fellow countrymen.

It’s in essence the same character in each of these films bearing identical trademarks. Firstly, each time the role is played by Manoj Kumar and with each additional release his girth appears to have grown a bit wider, and his cussedness and the chip on his shoulder seem more and more burdensome than ever before. 

Never a stunner, Manoj Kumar has rapidly deteriorated into a monstrously ugly specimen, which adequately reflects the frustrated character he depicts in film. Clerk was conceived by Manoj during the glory days of the late 70s and made even grander for the fact that two of Pakistan’s most prominent and respected artists were to join the cast, making it a unique film in times of tremendous hostilities.

There was much fanfare as a grand star cast was announced, but unfortunately, the movie took so long to complete that by the time it did limp into cinemas in 1989, the cast had an average age of way above 50. So, unfortunately for Manoj, his film had an aura or something that was very, very stale.

Nonetheless, a man of Manoj Kumar’s considerable talents would surely be able to turn things around with the potency of his subject matter. The plot is scintillating – you almost have to pinch yourself to realise that it is actually true. The story revolves around Bharat, a dedicated young clerk who had once been a brilliant student leader but due to the burdens of poverty and the corrupt system of the country where there is no equal opportunity he has been unable to rise like the phoenix that he so clearly is.

Poor Manoj has an entire family of forgotten war veterans to support. There is the father Ashok Kumar who is lying on his deathbed and suffers a near-fatal attack that is miraculously cured by a sudden burst of a military nationalistic anthem. In an amazing scene, one moment, you have Ashok gasping for his life, and two minutes later, he is twitching and marching to the tune of “kill, kill, kill, glory, glory glory” with no problem at all. Bharat also has to support his crippled ex-air force pilot brother, played by Mohd Ali, who slouches around the house moaning about his wife’s (Zeba’s) bad character all the time and crying about the loss of his leg while defending the country from foreign invaders, slant eyed ones this time around.

There are various wives and younger brothers and sisters to support and all this on an ordinary clerical job. But Bharat (usually accompanied by a background chorus of “angels”) plods on in his Ministry of Defence job under a most corrupt boss. He soon finds himself in a pivotal position, however as he is in charge of the filing cabinet that contains the files of a new and nefarious anti-state couple in town going by the name of Mr and Mrs Kapoor.

Oozing wealth and vulgarity and spouting “angraizi” at most opportunities, the Kapoors are a nasty couple trying to infiltrate the Ministry of Defence. The primary weapon in their armoury is the stunningly gorgeous femme fatale Rekha (Mrs Kapoor) who will stop at nothing to achieve her aim. She is cold-hearted and ruthless, and we soon learn during some excellent flashback sequences of Manoj as a college student where we discover how madly in love he had been with the current Mrs Kapoor and how she ditched him for a life of riches and luxury with Mr Kapoor rather than as Mrs Bharat, wife of a frumpy and frustrated clerk. 

Anyway, to cut a long story short, if that is at all possible in this case, considering how typically convoluted the plot is, the issue is whether the Kapoors will be able to get their file pushed through and approved by the ministry or whether our incorruptible Clerk will not only be able to thwart their designs but also get his own back on the woman that tossed him aside like a throwaway cigarette lighter!

Proceedings couldn’t be duller from beginning to end, with a mere curiosity value to watch how Zeba and Mohd Ali get along in their Indian venture. They manage a typical performance, no better and certainly no worse than the rest of the cast on display. Rajendra Kumar is somewhat wasted, but then everyone has to play second fiddle to the great Manoj Kumar who true to his previous form, proceeds to hog the entire show and thus torture his audience into submission. Even the lyrics and the music of his movies deteriorated significantly once Mukesh passed away. 

The woeful Mahendra Kapoor performs songs like the lament “gham kay Pyalay aur Nahin” (Roti Kapda Aur Makaan), typically turgid Manoj Kumar lyrics and a typically horrid number. Rekha provides a little spark with her negative role as Mrs Kapoor, as does Sonu Walia with her “tich” signature word.

Manoj Kumar’s quality (!) as a writer is matched only by his patented mumbled dialogue delivery. He displays his subtle use of symbolism during a critical moment that occurs twice during the movie. In one high voltage exchange, Manoj chides Rekha about her being such a “big” personality and using such a cheap lighter, to which he gets a slap-in-the-face reply about it being a “throwaway” lighter, once used then tossed aside…. referring, duh, to the way she used and tossed him aside (who wouldn’t in their right mind). Manoj gets his revenge later using the same classic dialogue to get back at Mrs Sneh Kapoor – the person who had deigned to toss him, Bharat, aside.

It’s possibly one of the most tedious films ever made and it’s no surprise that a story involving a plodding, dullard of a clerk and a tender file didn’t exactly catch the imagination of the masses and the film slid to an ignominious and rapid death at the Box Office – utterly deserved. Mercifully, the public has been spared more of the Bharat films, which are generally sickeningly nationalistic, almost fascistic in their self-glorification and self-worship and smack of an attitude of moping in self-pity and carrying an enormous complex.

On the other hand, Manoj Kumar has built a successful career mainly based on his complex-ridden Bharat films – awful as they are – they were much the thing during the socialist era of the 60s and 70s. Like all things, though, they have died a natural death, hopefully never to be revived, and after this final Bharat instalment, it is the audiences that have every right to be wailing, “Aur Nahin Bas Aur Nahin!”

Clerk does however retain a certain “cult” value however for its stupendous and shameless ineptitude!!