Oldie photos.

I feel like my brain is completely running on underdrive thanks to doing so much studying. Me and some friends did watch Andaz Apna Apna and Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, confirming once again that I can watch those two as many times as possible and they'll still stay favourites. And I have some newer films I need to review but like I said, too brainless. So have some oldie photos for the lack of actual substance.

70's week: Fangirl Pause.

There seems to be some sort of consensus among female film viewers of the heterosexual persuasion that post-1990's Hindi cinema is where you find the hotties, or even more specifically, the newer heroes, think after 2001 or so. Southie stars are disregarded for having moustaches and being too old, based on the massive star status of Rajnikanth, Chiranjeevi and the like.

You know, to each their own and it's true that the gym-going hero in the style of Hrithik Roshan or John Abraham is a fairly recent trend. Emphasis on dancing abilities, which a lot of people find attractive, is also a recent invention - the level of choreography has risen considerably when compared to older films where a lot of songs had no dance choreography at all.

So in a sense I can understand this idea of male eyecandy only being found in newer Hindi films. But at the same time, I don't undersign this that much - the most handsome Indian actors I know are an older Southie actor and an actor whose primary career was during the 70's.

So there.

But as anybody who finds these pre-fitness craze stars attractive will probably tell you, the perceived superficiality actually has layers to it. I mean, I know personally I can't find an actor physically attractive unless I also find something enjoyable in their acting. There has to be something there - a talent, an intensity, character, personality..

And while this may all sound like hopelessly pretentious waffling about, it's just how I see it. There has to be something there beyond handsome exterior. If there isn't, then I might as well look at a magazine, not moving pictures. On celluloid you have to give out some emotion - otherwise what's the point?

Of course, it's all subjective. Which is why I can't make any judgments against other people's tastes, and why I hope nobody will make any against mine; some people see what I don't, and I'll see what they do not.

And before you quit reading this post thinking, "Wait, this is your idea of a fangirl post? This stupid reflective ramble?", I'll stop writing and instead let you enjoy screencaps of 70's Vinod Khanna films without my commentary.

Because the man is tall and handsome and intense and yeah, guh. I'll save the rest of my honest-to-god-fangirling (sans thinkythoughts!) for Khanna Week in May (brainchild of Beth but in co-operation with yours truly & Old is Gold and anybody else who wishes to join!).





Not sure who coined the term "thinking angry young man" to describe his work in the 70's but I like it a lot. And Bollywood501's description is also forever apt.

IFAC #20: Entirely wordless Rani Mukherji day.

IFAC #14: (Near-)Wordless Vikram Day.

[Kanthasamy promo still; Anniyan; Meera; Dhool; Arul; Kanthasamy screencap unedited because I haven't yet been able to screencap the film in full and edit all my screencaps.]

Indian Film Advent Calendar #7: Wordless Saif Edition.

(Sources: Dil Chahta Hai DVD extras; Eklavya; photoshoot; Ek Hasina Thi, Darna Mana Hai.)

Indian Film Advent Calendar #4: Wordless Vinod Day.

(Films; Sacha Jhuthaa, Shaque [with Shabana], Patthar Aur Payal [with Hema], Mera Gaon Mera Desh [with Chayya Laxmi], Meera, Amar Akbar Anthony [with Shabana].)

Shola-- no wait. Mera Gaon Mera Desh.

So remember this movie, with this really great scene where Dharmendra plays a former criminal who teaches a village belle how to shoot in a forest setting?

And that movie had this pretty despicable villain played by a really good actor, called Mabbar Singh or Dabbar Singh or something to that effect? And a coin that played a key part in the decision making of the hero? And a fight towards the end that is a tables-turned version of a fight we saw earlier? And the scene where the villain has a gun and angrily questions his henchmen?

And of course the usual, cutesy harrasment of heroine for comedic scenes. And how can you not love the bit where the gypsie girl dances in front of the villain?

But if you know your 70's Hindi cinema, you know where I'm going with this. In fact, while it might appear to the modern viewer, working their way through the rich history of Bombay's cinema, that Mera Gaon Mera Desh has far too many similarities with the classic Sholay, release dates reveal that it was in fact Sholay that took influence from Mera Gaon. It's quite a funny thing, to watch this movie after Sholay and realize that the more popular and yes, the better film out of the two, is not just the one influencing others, but also has those clear influences of its own.

Vinod Khanna is indeed called Jabbar Singh, a dacoit-thakur who doesn't hesitate to put bullets into those who oppose him. Dharmendra on the other hand plays Ajit, a reformed criminal who moves into a village to work for a man who believes in giving people second chances. And Asha Parekh plays Anju, the village girl he falls in love with.

The movie handsomely begins with the following quote:

Yeah, Gandhi can be badass, too. Who says you can't learn from cinema?

It delivers everything you'd expect. Ajit may be an orphan disregarded by society as a lost cause, but the idyllic Rajasthan village and faith placed on him by a few really good people reforms him and makes him the people's hero, gathering the villagers to fight against the evil Jabbar Singh. There's plenty of songs, fights and sentimental speeches.

But mostly the film falls into the "just okay" category for me. I get a huge kick out of Dharmendra in just about anything but Asha Parekh as a heroine lacks that special something. The story certainly doesn't rise up to the level that Sholay does; it just isn't as good and appealling, I didn't find myself getting that emotionally invested in any of the characters. Of course, it does fall short of Sholay in star power as well as budget, probably, so it's not at all a fair comparison. If it stands alone, Mera Gaon is decent masala of its time.

That is, unless you're me and ...

.. absolutely ..

.. friggin' ..

.. adore ..

.. Vinod Khanna in this movie!

By no means is Jabbar as despicable or as legendary as Gabbar Singh. He is in a sense ruthless but he doesn't take the sick pleasure in killing and torturing people as Gabbar seems to. But the first scene he's in, where he tears a mother apart from her child and plainly shoots the child, sets the tone of the character. And while my biased adoration is, I'll admit, mostly superficial, Vinod does play the role with such intensity that it's not hard to see why this was the role that got him noticed.

In a sense, the movie belongs to its side stars -- alongside Vinod, we have Laxmi Chhaya, who steals the show as the gypsie girl Munnibai. She's a double agent of sorts, who eventually decides where her true loyalties lie and is responsible for most of the dance numbers in the film. On my first watch she was such a breath of fresh air after the blahsome Asha I almost wished she'd been the romantic interest in the film. The last song in the film is so memorable, very much due to her performance.

I was feeling very angry at the world today for whatever reason and screencapping and rewatching this movie totally did the trick. Mmm, bloody, evil Vinod. If I'm alone and crazy in this matter, I apologize for affecting you with my mental disorder. Really, I'm so sorry. I'll stop now.

..sorry! Okay, I'm done now. Promise.

.. I need help.