The experience of watching films in modern-day urban India has mutated such that its counterpart from the late 1970s may not be recognisable any longer.
In the late 70s, the multiplex was more than 15 years away. Many film advertisements on radio tried to ensnare viewers with amusing promises. A frequently recycled one-liner in these ads declared that an upcoming release was ‘'action, emotion, drama, melodrama sey bhharpoor' (packed with action, emotion, drama and melodrama).
The best theatre seats in Patna, the capital of Bihar, could be had in a section known as Dress Circle. An entry ticket, printed on cheap porous paper, cost a princely sum of five rupees. I was a primary school student when I had occupied a Dress Circle seat to watch Manmohan Desai’s rollicking film, Amar Akbar Anthony (1977).
AAA was also my introduction to Kader Khan’s dialogues.
Amar Akbar Anthony (AAA) was an iconic film that Kader Khan wrote dialogues for. (Photo: Amar Akhbar Anthony)
The film starred Vinod Khanna, Rishi Kapoor and Amitabh Bachchan as three brothers who get separated at birth. A rehash of the lost-and-reunited formula, it merged the standard elements of comedy, action, melodrama and romance. It also propagated secularism and communal harmony, which contributed to its appeal.
What made AAA click in such a big way? The reasons were many, including some fine performances led by Bachchan at his best, Desai’s direction and Khan’s dialogues. Watching it was an engrossing experience, interrupted by catcalls and hoots from those with different notions of film appreciation.
Blessed with a flair for entertaining the quintessential everyman, screenwriter-actor Kader Khan is no more.
His death at 81, reportedly after battling Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, has ended an important chapter in Hindi commercial cinema.
A former professor of mathematics who was involved with the Mumbai stage before drifting towards cinema, Khan had retreated into his private world in his elderly years. His career had experienced an irreversible decline long ago, but not before he had acted in more than 300 films and written for around 200 of them.
Statistics, however, do not tell Khan's entire story.
The actor acted in more than 300 films and wrote for around 200 of them. (Photo: Screengrab/ Youtube)
Khan's work had given immense joy to filmgoers for a significant part of the last five decades. Famously flexible as an actor, he had played many popular villainous, comical and a variety of other supporting characters. His screenwriting, which hid behind his acting very often, was marked by his ability to engage viewers as few others could.
Seekers of subtlety often insist that those who enjoy in-your-face comedy do not have a sense of humour. Evidently conscious about communicating with each viewer inside the theatre, Khan fell back on buffoonery and slapstick to create outrageously comical moments. Regardless of whether he acted or wrote, or did both, his approach was the same.
Remember Himmatwala (1983) starring Jeetendra and Sridevi, in which he is seen as a clumsy and manipulative ‘munim’ (clerk) of a zamindar played by Amjad Khan? The film has a sequence in which the ‘munim’ is gesticulating and bragging with villagers in attendance. He has no idea that the zamindar is standing nearby.
The moment he becomes aware of his presence, his worst dreams start throbbing inside his head. He starts shivering and bends down to touch his feet, whimpering, “Aapki charanon ki dhhool ko mera namaskar....” (I am paying obeisance to the dust on your feet). Such moments made the theatres explode with laughter.
Every age makes different demands of those involved in the creative process of making a film. When Khan was acting in Jeetendra and Govinda films, the latter in the 1990s, the market clamoured for over-the-top humour. He delivered that – easily.
In Raja Babu (1994), his adopted illiterate son (Govinda) dresses up in profession-specific outfits, gets photographs clicked and puts them up on the walls of his mansion. When a new postman pays a visit and becomes curious after seeing the photographs, Khan’s character explains what the good-for-nothing young man actually does.
He deadpans, “Woh kuchh nahi hai. Woh sirf apni ma ka beta hai. Usney MA kiya hai maa ki mamta main.” (He is nothing. He is simply his mother’s son. He has got a master’s degree in his mother’s affection). Gifted with fine comic timing, Khan's best outcomes were nothing short of brilliant.
Jodi No. 1: When Khan was acting in Govinda films, the market clamoured for over-the-top humour – he delivered. (Photo: Screengrab/ Youtube)
His portrayal of negative characters – some of them outright evil and others with shades of grey – were no less impressive.
In Parvarish (1977), he is Supremo, a tech-savvy villain who lives in his personal submarine.
In Coolie (1983), an action comedy, he is Zafar Khan, an affluent and devious fellow obsessed with a woman named Salma. It was a part that Khan had dug into with visible relish.
In Pataal Bhairavi (1985), a fantasy drama, he is a wizard named Mantrik who wants to obtain the idol of Pataal Bhairavi by hook or by crook.
Khan played his popular characters at a time when viewers had to suspend their disbelief before the start of most commercial Hindi films. Still, his myriad explorations showcased his strengths as a versatile actor to the audiences.
Just how good was he as a screenwriter?
He could be outstanding when in full flow, although his track record reveals that he also did stoop to conquer with coarseness and double entendre on occasions.
It can be argued that he was responding to the need of the hour. But that cannot justify why he had to write notorious sequences like the one in Maqsad in which two characters played by Rajesh Khanna and Sridevi discuss riddles in cringe-worthy language.
Having debuted as a dialogue writer in Jawani Diwani (1972), his career as a screenwriter was a long and productive one. He had several significant associations with major stars, but is best known for ones with Bachchan, Jeetendra and Govinda.
He was fortunate to work for Manmohan Desai and his competitor Prakash Mehra, both of whom made films with Bachchan. The first Big B film he wrote for was Narendra Bedi’s Benaam (1974). He contributed to 22 Bachchan films, which includes AAA, Muqaddar Ka Sikander (1978), Lawaaris (1981), Naseeb (1981), Satte Pe Satta (1982), Coolie (1983), Sharaabi (1984) and Agneepath (1990). His significance in Bachchan’s career has been eclipsed by Salim-Javed, who created the megastar’s enduring image of the 'Angry Young Man'.
Khan’s USP as a writer was his ability to write catchy dialogues in simple language. That he was prolific for such a long time is an indication that appropriate lines for characters from different linguistic and cultural backgrounds came to him easily.
AAA has a popular sequence in which Anthony Gonsalves (Bachchan) asks, “Aisey toh aadmi do-ich time bhhagta hai...Olympic ka race ho ya phir police ka case ho. Tum kaiko bhhagta hai men?” (A person flees like this only when it is an Olympic race or a police case. Why are you running, man?). It is not difficult to figure out where Gonsalves is from – even if one has watched just one sequence from the film on YouTube.
Khan’s USP as a writer was his ability to write catchy dialogues in simple language. (Photo: Screengrab/ Youtube)
Many contemporary filmmakers prefer the resonance of reality in their dialogues. Khan, however, was operating in a vastly different era. Those were the times when the masses swayed to the sound of over-dramatic punchlines in big-budget commercial films – which he delivered.
Khan’s significant phase with Jeetendra is known for his work – both as actor and writer – in remakes of South Indian films. His dialogues for films like Himmatwala (1983), Justice Choudhury (1983), Tohfa (1984) and Maqsad (1984) employed all the clichés in the book and dragged viewers to the ticket counters.
He also wrote for several hugely successful Govinda films, including the 'No. 1' series, all directed by David Dhawan.
His biggest contribution was the creation of the actor’s identity of a motormouth, which the latter projected with elan in film after film. Those were the times when the talented ‘chhokra’ from Virar seemed invincible – until he fell out of favour with the masses because of his repetitiveness.
Everybody has a limited shelf life. Kader Khan was no different. Prolific and popular for a long time, however, he worked in more projects than most can dream of.
Now is the time to wipe the dust off memories and revisit his films.
That will make him happy.