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They Dont Make em Like This Anymore | The Indian Express

This is not a review. This is why I think Sholay,re-released in a 3D version,needs to be your go-to movie this weekend,no ifs,no buts. And thats because,Bharat desh ke vaasiyon,Sholay is the greatest Hindi masala entertainer ever made,3D,2D or no D. For those who saw it back when it released (75),it is a crackling refresh,and for those who have only seen re-runs on television,this is your chance to experience a genuine,panoramic wide screen,and how riveting a story and how memorable every single character can be. How songs and dances can add up,and how wonderful it is to anticipate the dialogues oh those chart-busting dialogues packed into cassettes which sold briskly for years after and mouth them along with the characters. Basically,why Sholay is everything that it is cracked up. to be. I watched it yesterday in 3D,fully prepared to moan and groan about how it ruined the film for me. But nothing took away from my viewing; I even enjoyed a few of the 3D bells and whistles,despite the darkened screen. And of course I cheated,by whipping off those glasses every few minutes and catching it as it was meant to be. And Gabbar Singh,who deserves a whole paragraph to himself. Sholays bad guy is Hindi cinemas most enduring,fearsome,charismatic villain,no contest. Legend has it that Bachchan wanted to do this role,but it went to the debutant Amjad Khan. Without his outstanding Gabbar,togged out in olive green fatigues,rotten teeth and clattering boots,and his inimitable delivery,the film wouldnt have been what it is. It was many years after I watched it first that I discovered in a genuine spaghetti Western,a couple of scenes which seemed like they were completely transplanted onto Sholay. The soundscape,with the trademark goose-pimply keening,was very Sergio Leone-sque. Village Ramgarh looked as if it was fashioned like a Hollywood western outpost. But the way director Ramesh Sippy,writers Salim-Javed,cinematographer Dwarka Diwecha,and music director RD Burman crafted this film,those couple of imitative scenes were so beautifully knit into the fabric of the film that you felt they were always part of it. Real-life dacoits in their dhoti-kurtas,post 1975,must have cursed Gabbar for forever stamping his wardrobe imprint on them,as well as wondering where they could find a campfire and item queen Helen and the very colourful Jalal Agha whooping it up to Mehbooba,Mehbooba. Ooo,ooo,ooo. Kitnay aadmi they? Poore pachaas hajaar,sarkaar. Tumhara naam kya hai,Basanti? Yun toh hamein zyaada baat karne ki aadat nahin hai. Budhiya jail mein chakki peesing and peesing. Itna sannaata kyon hai,bhai? The dialogues and there are so many more are iconic,and have seeped into our pop culture. The mournful mouth organ tune and the growing,silent smoulder between Amitabh and Jaya,the more earthy equation between Dharmendra and Hema,the camaraderie between the two denim-clad male leads,and how well they horsed (we saw more of it in many more films,especially Chupke Chupke),the tragic backstory of the thakur,and all the gun play which still has the power to thrill,nearly 40 years later. I found bits of the long jail sequence dull,like I had before,and a flashback involving Jaya wisely taken out at the time it was first released,made me wince this time around. But only for that moment,because I was caught up with the rest again,and enthralled all over again. It feels surprisingly undated,and fresh. You can divide Hindi cinema into two eras,pre-and-post Sholay. It is a landmark. They dont make em like this anymore.
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