Zanjeer - 1973

Reviewing a classic is a big endeavour - esp. if the classic is supposed to have launched the biggest phenomenon in Bollywood - the Big B.

Zanjeer, by Prakash Mehra in 1973 is the movie. Its name is taken in the same breath as the all time Bachchan greats like Deewar, Sholay, Don etc. Perhaps this is the reason why everytime I saw it, I somehow found it slightly lacklustre when compared with Deewar or a Kala Patthar or a Don. No doubt, the simmering intensity, the legendary baritone and the smouldering eyes were the same - still it appeared as if the X factor was missing - until I made a conscious decision. The decision was to offload the baggage of Deewar, Sholay, Don, Kala Patthar and the Bachhan phenomenon itself and watch the movie with a clean slate. Watch it as the first movie of the angry young man series, when the character did not have to carry the aura of an already established Amitabh Bachhan on his shoulders.

If you notice, the Vijay of Zanjeer is very different from the one of Deewar, Don or Kala Patthar. There is an inherent heroism in the character in the other movies, be it the cynical machoism of Deewar or self-condemning tragic hero quality of Kala Patthar or the endearing buffonery of a simpleton in Don - a certain aspirational value which goes beyond a mere mortal. On the other hand, Vijay of Zanjeer is very real, very mortal like you and me.

Vijay of Zanjeer has this unmistakable vulnerability about him (infact, you can even see pimple scars on his face in certain scenes which only add to the effect); the swagger of Deewar or the flair of Don is missing; he gets beaten almost fatally by a group of goons and thrown over a bridge like normal humans; he suffers the ignominy of being convicted of bribery and gets imprisoned (I dont remember another movie in which, he gets convicetd in such an oh-so-common-man-ish manner - there are Akhri Rasta and Kalia and Andha Kanoon etc but its either macho or heroic); he is fighting his own internal demons and is visibly awkward when expressing lighter emotions - the gauchery when he thanks Jaya for identifying the truck driver is too palpable to miss.

The point here is that Zanjeer protrayed Vijay as a common, believable man - haunted by ghosts from his childhood, driven by certain strong emotions who crosses a powerful man the wrong way. He gets treated and maltreated much like a very normal person would have been in that situation and finally rises to the situation and achieves his redemption. Post Zanjeer, the phenomenon became so big that the directors had to make some leevay for the persona that Bachchan was. To be sure, Zanjeer is not the greatest movie of Bachchan phenomenon but it was the perfect vehicle for the launch of the angry young man. I am sure the common man identified so intensely with the angry young man simply because he was very believable in his first avatar. Once the cord was struck, multitudes of population started expecting super human heroics from their messiah and that laid the perfect foundation for larger than life characters that followed subsequently.

Its a completely different perspective from the one that I held so far despite my claims to being one of the very hardcore Bachchan fanatics. The problem with us born in mid-late Seventies is that the Bachchan phenomenon was already established and raring and infact at its peak by the time we developed the sense and liking for movies and so all the Bachchan movies are viewed under the large looming shadow. The correct mindset to appreciate Zanjeer is that there was no angry young man before it.

Talking of other characters, Jaya looks very teenager-ish in the first half. Infact, in the early scenes of their silent love germinating, the couple look like very ordinary early-twenties love birds, which again adds to the typical middle class setting. However, she has this impish sensuality about her - an innocent, girlish charm. Towards the second half, she transforms into a woman standing by her man in his bid to exorcise the apparitions of the past.

Pran, as Khan is amazing. The amazing thing about Pran is that whether good or bad, his characters have never been shown as miserabale. Even the Big B comes to us as a disabled, old army man in the much later Hindustan Ki Kasam (which, incidentally, was too miserable a portrayal for Mr. Bachchan), even Amrish Puri came forward as the weak miserable father in Ghatak but not Pran. Probably his intense gaze, his aquiline nose, the deep resonating voice and the overall presence generates so much strength that he can never be weak. The way he dances to Manna Dey's voice speaks of the honesty of effort of the man - he sure is not the most natural dancer but you can sense the sincerety of effort.

Infact, in some ways, Pran as the courageous, self righteous and loyal Pathan seems to be a precursor for a lot of Muslim-uncle/friend/caretaker/wellwisher-who-ultimately-gets-killed-
-while-helping-the-hero characters that became quite a regular feature in several subsequent movies. Only, here the character is an integral part of the narrative, has an inherent charm and plays the perfect foil to the common man hero who at least needs a loyal and brave friend to take on an evil, powerful man.

Ajit as Dharam Dayal Teja also, I believe, needs to be seen detached from that Ajit legend and innumerable Ajit jokes we receive in email forwards or SantaBanta. The suave bad guy looks almost always in control and completely chilled out. He doesn't need to shout and scream and ham to establish his evilness. In that sense, he almost has a James Bondesque quality to him. Infact, his sporadic use of English was quite sophisticated (of course, we are not comparing it with the current BPO breed's Americanized one), contrary to what I had come to expect owing to so many of those Ajit jokes. His dialogues speak of a cold blooded, calculating evil who is bad without pause and without a cause - simply because he is evil and relishes that.


Music is good and no mistake.

Bindu and Om Prakash do justice to their bit roles.

Technically, though the movie is not too older than Sholay, Don, Deewar etc. but actually looks of a much previous era. Probably the colour film technology developed exponentially in those three years or Prakash Mehra did some serious cost cutting while filming Zanjeer - not really sure - but it shows.

All in all, a classic and if viewed with a conscious effort to block all that awe of the Bachchan phenomenon - just as we would have, had we been in our teens in 1973, it is sure to throw up an interesting experience.