Zanjeer review: Well-paced revenge drama that works despite the thin plot

Amitabh Bachchan has had a whirlwind film career of nearly half a century, with several hits and misses, and still counting. On 11 May 1973 was released his first blockbuster, which attracted hordes of fans to the theatres and created the legend of Bachchan. Zanjeer was the first big solo hit for the struggling actor who had delivered a dozen flops till then. Forty-five years later, we review the film to find out if it stands the test of time.

Two-year-old Vijay — incidentally, a name that went on to become synonymous with Bachchan — witnesses the murder of his parents at the hands of his father’s rogue boss. The orphaned child is sheltered by a policeman, who raises him as his own.

The boy, who has a recurring nightmare of a masked man on a horse, grows up to be a hot-headed policeman, Inspector Vijay, who is continuously fighting his inner demons. On an assignment, he gets introduced to Sher Khan (Pran), a man who does dishonest business with great honesty, in his own words. It is quite unbelievable how quickly Sher Khan turns his back on his flourishing gambling business, as Vijay extends a hand of friendship to him. This is one of the many convenient plot twists that litter Zanjeer.

Vijay, though, has a real bone to pick with Seth Dharam Dayal Teja (Ajit), whose business of adulterated medicines puts innocent lives at risk. Thus begins a game of cat and mouse which lands Vijay behind bars, stripped of uniform and dignity.

If we look closely, the plot of Zanjeer is wafer-thin — good guy meets bad guy, good guy is wronged, bad guy flourishes, good guy kills bad guy. What, then, appealed to audiences of 1973? It has got to be the dialogues by Javed Akhtar and Salim Khan, who also share the credit for story and screenplay.

From “Jo haath angaare ko chupaye, angaara usi haath ko jala deta hai [the palms that try to hide a flame are scalded by that very flame]" to the Ajit gem, “Kisi aadmi ki kamzori imaandari hoti hai [Some people's weakness is their honesty]”, many of these work because of the excellent delivery. There are a few laughable ones too, like “Hum tumhe kha thodehi jaayenge... vaise bhi hum vegetarian hain [Don't worry, I won't eat you up. I am vegetarian]”. Most of these lines are mouthed with panache by Bachchan, Pran or Ajit.

While Bachchan has evolved immensely as an actor over the years, a certain flat expression is noticeable on his face in Zanjeer. Perhaps it was the character’s inner tumult that stopped him from going all out, but most of his acting involved mouthing dialogue confidently, looking into the distance seriously and hoping it made an impact. (It did.)

This was the film that started Bachchan's ‘angry young man’ phase, which worked for a while until audiences began to notice that the anger was not accompanied by the right facial expressions. Full marks for the prominent grey shades of a likeable hero, though.

Ajit and Pran’s characters are thoroughly black and white. Both made memorable their roles as friend and foe, respectively, to Vijay.

The handling of the character graph of Mala (Jaya Bhaduri, now Bachchan) — from fiercely fighting off a cat-caller to being groomed à la George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion to turning irritatingly demure —  is a tad disappointing. Her “mujhse shaadi kaun karega [who will marry me]?” lament seemed almost propitious as she and Bachchan ended up marrying in real life weeks after Zanjeer was released.

The well-planned and shot (by cinematographer N Stayen) chase and fight sequences (by stunt master Ravi Khanna) are the USP of Zanjeer. The film is well-paced but suffers occasionally from abrupt cuts that bring to mind questions of continuity. A bad temper is our hero’s character flaw, while bad editing becomes the flaw of Zanjeer as it softens the blow of powerful scenes. For example, an untimely jump cut ruins the impact of Teja’s nonchalant confession to his moll Mona (Bindu) that he had bumped off his former boss.

The music by Kalyanji-Anandji ably supports the action scenes. The songs — ‘Yaari Hai Imaan Mera’ and ‘Bana Ke Kyun Bigada Re’ — picturized on Pran and Jaya Bhaduri, respectively, seem to go with the character briefs. One professes friendship as his religion and acts likewise; while the other ruins what could have been a strong woman character in an otherwise male-centric film.

When Vijay is injured in a fight with the villain's gang, Sher Khan tells the doctor to take his blood for Vijay’s transfusion as only one “sher” (tiger) can give blood to another. The doctor dismisses this absurd suggestion as “ajeeb logic”. Funny how logic went flying out of the window in Bachchan’s Amar Akbar Anthony four years later as three brothers separated at birth “donate” blood to their biological mother. But then that film was directed by Mehra's arch-rival, Manmohan Desai.

It’s actually a good time to revisit Zanjeer, to see how Bachchan has evolved over the years into one of the finest actors in Hindi cinema. With 102 Not Out currently in theatres, Bachchan seems to have left the ‘angry young man’ far behind to own the infectiously happy-old-man tag.