"ANAK-KU Sazali is such a sad song. The slow tempo never fails to put me in a sleepy mood each time it comes on air. I just wonder why P. Ramlee wrote it in that manner," a friend quips when the subject on songs written by the prominent icon of Malay entertainment cropped up during our Hari Raya get together.
Almost immediately, his remark draws strong rebuttal from several of us at the table.
"You’re incorrect. P. Ramlee has written hundreds if not thousands of songs throughout his illustrious career. Surely he wouldn’t be as successful if all his songs were written in nearly the same way!" retorts a former classmate who’s now working at the Kuala Terengganu Land Office before adding that the song suited the film that bears the same name very well.
While listening to their friendly argument, I begin to recall reading about something rather similar in P. Ramlee's biography written by Abdullah Hussain.
When quizzed by fans about his rather mundane sounding songs, the renowned entertainer explained that his wide ranging melodies were created to fit the different moods of his listeners, adding that some were written to excite while others to help relax minds after a hard day at work or set the mood for bedtime.
A skilled and accomplished song-writer during his prime, P. Ramlee started honing this particular ability while he was still in school. His first song Azizah, written when he was still a teenager, remains popular to this day.
"Err... Excuse me for asking but is Anak-ku Sazali the title of a song as well as a film?"
The question from another friend who has spent a better part of his life abroad jolts me from my brief reverie.
"Yes!" We reply in unison. After that, the rest of us join in to enlighten him with a brief synopsis of the classic Malay tearjerker which has the ever-versatile P. Ramlee taking on the unique dual roles of both father and son.
"This 1956 melodrama puts into context the trials and tribulations faced by a male parent as well as his sacrifices made for the family," adds someone sitting right next to me who used to be a secondary school teacher in charge of audio visual curriculum.
THE STORY UNFOLDS
Anak-ku Sazali began with young Hassan, played by P. Ramlee, an orphan working for a wealthy family with two children, Mansor and Mahani.
Hassan was asked to leave when the duo started making him their role model more. With his severance pay, Hassan pursued his love for music, spending every cent on a violin and lessons.
At night, Mahani would slip out of the house and listen to Hassan play by the village jetty where he worked. Their friendship blossomed over the years but Hassan only realised his love for Mahani when she was unwillingly betrothed to a rich man from a neighbouring village.
The two lovers eloped to Singapore where they met up with Mansor who was there furthering his studies and sought his blessings for marriage. Keen to start a family of his own, Hassan worked hard and soon became an accomplished musician. He was extremely honoured when asked to play at Mansor's wedding.
The happiest day of Hassan's life was when he learnt that Mahani was expecting. Confident that their first born was going to be a boy, Hassan named him Sazali. Seeing the opportunity to live life all over again through his son, Hassan composed the song Anak-ku Sazali and sang it to Mahani.
It was a bittersweet moment in the film when Mahani passed away after delivering a healthy baby boy. To help mend his broken heart, Hassan dedicated his life to the care of Sazali, little realising that sparing the rod would eventually spoil the growing lad and turn him into one of the most wanted gangsters in the country.
The first time Hassan saw fault in his son was when Sazali refused to marry Rokiah, Mansor's daughter who was betrothed to him, after making her pregnant.
During the heated argument, Sazali left Hassan devastated by putting blame on him and saying that things would have turned out better had Hassan disciplined him properly.
BAD LUCK IN SUCCESSION
Bad luck seemed to come in threes; the last two came in quick succession for Hassan. Sazali was injured when he was shot by the police after a botched goldsmith shop heist while Rokiah committed suicide rather than face shame with her predicament.
"Long story short, Sazali sought refuge in his father's house and was lulled to sleep after playing the Anak-ku Sazali song. Downstairs, Hassan stared at his late wife's photograph with a storm raging in his heart, wondering if there was sufficient strength within to perform his civic duty and call the police or would his fatherly love blind his sense of justice," continues our friend before pausing to purposely keep those who hadn’t seen the film or had forgotten the ending, in suspense.
However, he quickly resumes after noting the piercing glances from all sides of the table. "After much deliberation, Hassan called the police and Sazali was apprehended. The movie must have had many in tears when it ended with Hassan looking at Mahani's photograph and pleading for forgiveness," he concludes before adding that the burden of parenthood should never be taken lightly.
Fired up by the heart-wrenching tale, we spend the rest of the evening talking about films directed by P. Ramlee. It was a total change for the entertainer as being behind the camera was worlds apart from acting in front of it.
Fortunately, P. Ramlee's natural sense of versatility and adaptability carried the day when the opportunity came in 1955 to direct his first film, Penarik Beca. His debut was also partly due to the tremendous support from the-then Malay Film Productions (MFP) information officer, Jaafar Abdullah.
Despite passing with flying colours, it took a few more years before P. Ramlee managed to make regular appearances in the hotly contested MFP director's chair.
MALAY DIRECTORS TAKE OVER
Since its incorporation on Aug 23, 1949, MFP films had been mostly helmed by Indian directors such as B. S. Rajhans, B. N. Rao and L. Krishnan as well as a small representation from the Philippines like Ramon Estella.
During those early years, Hussein Haniff was one of the few Malay directors that belonged to that elite group.
By 1958, the drastic reduction in foreign directors paved the way for Malay directors, including P. Ramlee, and scriptwriters to prove their mettle at the Jalan Ampas Studio in Singapore.
Soon after, P. Ramlee began directing widely acclaimed films like Semerah Padi, Panca Delima, Bujang Lapuk and its two sequels, Pendekar Bujang Lapuk and Seniman Bujang Lapuk, Labu Labi and its follow-up film Nasib Labu Labi, Nujum Pak Belalang, Musang Berjanggut, Antara Dua Darjat, Tiga Abdul and Madu Tiga.
P. Ramlee's second last feature at the Singapore studio, Ibu Mertua-ku proved to be the most challenging.
The owners promised him a windfall of $30,000 if he managed to complete filming within 60 days but also warned that $500 would be deducted daily if work progressed beyond the stipulated date. P. Ramlee pulled out all the stops and tried his utmost best. In the end, he only managed to earn $3,000 or just 10 per cent of the original sum.
The 54-day delay in filming made certain quarters feel that P. Ramlee wasn’t serious in his work. The fact that the natural comedian made more than half of his films in that genre didn’t help his case either.
CHALLENGES ABOUND
Fortunately, his supporters came to his defence. They were of the opinion that Malay film budget allocations were far less compared to those given to producers making Chinese movies.
The rationale at that time was that the latter was raking in significantly more profits at the box office compared to the former.
At the same time, there was talk on the grapevine that plans were afoot to move all Malay silver screen stars from their home in Malaya and relocate them to Hong Kong in a bid to boost their popularity further.
Although he had nothing against the former British colony, P. Ramlee was appalled at the prospect of moving away from his friends and relatives.
The unfortunate turn of events and disheartening rumours swirling around the studio made P. Ramlee and many others lose their passion and creativity.
He then decided to direct one last film – on a subject that was close to his heart before leaving Singapore for good.
Released in 1958, Sumpah Orang Minyak was produced to prove to the people in Singapore that there was really no basis to their belief about a legendary Oily Man that was said to terrorise Tualang Tiga village (near Siglap today) and disturb pretty maidens at night.
P. Ramlee proved his point so successfully that many moviegoers emerged after the screening and realised that the bogeyman was just an ordinary human being in disguise.
MOVE TO KUALA LUMPUR
Despite the overwhelming response to the film, P. Ramlee was set on his departure. His move marked the beginning of decline for the Jalan Ampas Studio as many of his peers like Jamil Sulung, Omar Rojik, Jins Shamsuddin, Shahadat Kadarisman and Haji Mahadi also followed in his footsteps and moved to Merdeka Film Studios located in the Kuala Lumpur suburb of Ulu Klang to seek green pastures.
"I’m sure the decision to leave wasn’t an easy one for P. Ramlee to make. After all, Jalan Ampas was the place where his career as a silver screen superstar took flight," one of my friends quips before using the film Cinta as a classic example where P. Ramlee acted as one of the many faceless extras in a mass murder scene.
After taking some time to overcome his initial sadness after leaving Singapore, the reinvigorated P. Ramlee managed to come up with a total of 18 films, a number which was significantly higher than his total at Jalan Ampas.
Among his more notable films at Ulu Klang were Si Tora Harimau Jadian, Masam Masam Manis, Keluarga 69, Putus Sudah Kasih Sayang, Do Re Mi and and its two sequels, Nasib Do Re Mi and Laksamana Do Re Mi, Kasih Sayang and Dr. Rusdi.
During the latter part of his career, fans noticed a marked change when P. Ramlee began making films that conveyed subtle messages concerning issues plaguing society that needed addressing.
FILMS WITH SUBTLE MESSAGES
In Sesudah Subuh and Gerimis, which were produced in 1967 and 1968 respectively, fans saw P. Ramlee's plea for the strengthening of racial cohesion and integration.
On hindsight, many felt that the two films were desperate warnings from P. Ramlee to prevent the May 13 racial riots from becoming a reality.
A year later, two more distinctly different films were produced in quick succession. Filled with an overdose of brutality and violence, a vast majority of fans falsely assumed that Kanchan Tirana and Enam Jahanam were P. Ramlee's desperate attempts to gain popularity by copying Hong Kong kungfu movies that were all the rage at the time.
Later, when quizzed during an interview, P. Ramlee clarified that his latest films were actually made to negate the impact brought about by kungfu flicks.
In highlighting the beauty and richness of the Malay art of self-defence through films, P. Ramlee harboured hope that the erosion of local values and culture by foreign movies could be stemmed if not stopped.
"It’s a pity that P. Ramlee passed away at an early age of 44 or else he could have gone on to produce many more quality films that provoked thought in his viewers," comments one of our accountant friends, a Malay film enthusiast.
Finishing the last morsels of food on our plates, we share thoughts on the film icon's past achievements.
A deep admiration wells in all of us when someone points out that more than 200 films have been attributed to P. Ramlee despite his relatively short acting career.
To date, no other local actor or actress has come close to matching this acting record, let alone have the ability to sing equally well.
We all harbour hopes that one day, another soul like P. Ramlee or even better will burst into our entertainment scene and grace us with talents that can appeal to all the different races that make up our wonderful country.