‘Parallel’ Cinema Clashes with Crass: Films India Loved in 1980s

Called the worst decade for Hindi cinema, the 1980s had some beautifully crafted films thanks to ‘parallel’ cinema.

Seventy years is a long time to be watching (and making) films. The Quint brings you the story of India through the films she has loved; the ones which have defined how she looks at herself, and how we as Indians look at our past. Read earlier parts here:

Also Read:
An Angry Nation Reclaims the Screen: Films India Loved in 1970s
Films Which Defined India: The Technicolour 60s
As India Turns 69, A Look at the Films She Loved: The Golden 1950s

1977-1987

In the 1980s, watching a film was no longer a respectable family affair. Increasingly, young men crowded the theatres, which meant films were about three things; sex, action and romance. Commercial Hindi cinema in the 80s saw an output of films retrospectively considered to be the worst decade for Indian cinema. But films produced in this decade also saw a new class of Indians being represented on screen: the middle class. Helmed by Hrishikesh Mukherjee and Basu Chatterjee, these films were about the simple joy of wooing a girl on an accountant’s salary.

After decades of treating the heroine in a Hindi film as a ‘pretty accessory’, the 1980s saw a spate of ‘alternative’ women-centric films with Shabana Azmi and Smita Patil taking the lead; which were ironically contradicted by the regressive portrayal of women on the screen elsewhere.

Bhumika (1977)

When she was approached to play Usha in a film based on the doyenne of Marathi theatre, Hansa Wadkar, Smita Patil was just 22 years old. She was nervous. Not only the role was daunting in its range and complexity; unlike other Hindi films, the woman was at the centre of the film.

But once Shyam Benegal’s Bhumika released, her fears were unfounded. Apart from Smita Patil’s stunning portrayal of a talented actress who faces a patriarchal and unforgiving film industry with defiance and grit, Bhumika was an important film for a generation of Indian women. After years of playing second fiddle to heroes, Smita Patil and her subsequent roles were about real, vulnerable, desiring women in flesh-and-blood, who were not necessarily dependent on the men in their life.

Amar Akbar Anthony (1977)

No one can make masala films like Manmohan Desai, and no film in Hindi cinema is more masala than Amar Akbar Anthony.

A film about three brothers who are separated at birth and have been brought up in three different faiths: Hinduism, Islam and Christianity, Amar Akbar Anthony is filled with symbolism. A man leaves his three sons under the statue of Mahatma Gandhi where a Hindu policeman, a Muslim tailor and a Catholic priest subsequently adopt them. They donate blood to one woman, who turns out to be their mother.

Through catchy one-liners and hummable songs, Amar Akbar Anthony is best understood as a nationalistic allegory. In the 1980s, India was ravaged by communal tension. But just as Bharati (played by Nirupa Roy) needs sustenance from her three sons to survive, the idea of India, Manmohan Desai seemed to say, is defined through an inclusive secularism.

Disco Dancer (1982)

I am a disco dancer!

Mithun Chakraborty shimmied into national consciousness with sequinned jackets, pelvic thrusts and redefined ‘cool’ for an entire generation of Indians.

Disco Dancer is not your typical Hindi film classic. In fact, for most cine-lovers the film signifies the nadir in popular Hindi films. The story is ridiculous, there is no logic to most of what happens in the film (eg: Mithun’s mother dies by electrocution caused by an electric guitar) and the disco scenes are filled with garish clothes and music.

But the film was (and still is) a phenomenon. For men sitting in single-screen theatres across the country, Mithun’s Jimmy was a hero they could identify with and aspired to be. A hero who rose from poverty to become the reigning disco champion; and in the process become the ultimate ‘cool’ icon.

Disco Dancer is entertainment, at its most fun.

Gol Maal (1979)

Ramprasad Dashrathprasad Sharma (played by Amol Palekar) is desperately in need of a job, quite unlike Hindi film heroes in the 60s and 70s who waltzed in and out of palatial mansions without ever seeming to put in a day’s work.

To get a job, he needs to grow a moustache and forget about his love for sports. And because this is the pre-liberalisation period where jobs are few, Sharma changes himself. And this is how Indian cinema’s greatest comedies starts.

Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s oeuvre of films is peopled with common men and women. Not Bollywood ‘common’, but real men who struggle with getting a job, take their sweetheart to a cinema for a date (because they can’t afford a fancy restaurant) and get into fights with landlords. Mukherjee’s films, especially Gol Maal, is emblematic of a young India struggling to keep afloat in the big city, yet inhabiting the city with an intimacy and a friendliness which hasn’t been seen since Hrishikesh Mukherjee yelled “Action!”

Arth (1982)

When Pooja (played by Shabana Azmi) refuses to marry Raj (played by Raj Kiran) in Mahesh Bhatt’s Arth because she no longer needs a man in her independent life, it marks the single most important moment for women in Hindi films.

Pooja is no ordinary woman. She has been scorned and cheated on by her husband, Inder (played by Kulbhushan Kharbhanda) who leaves her because he is in love with Kavita (played to stunning effect by Smita Patil). But she refuses to be a victim, takes control of her life and refuses to take back her husband when he comes back to her. Why should she?

Arth is often hailed as an example of ‘bold’ Indian cinema. It’s ‘bold’ because for once, its women (even the archetypal mistress is a firebrand) know their mind, have little tolerance for men in their life and are not afraid to tell it like it is.

Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro (1983)

One of the unsung heroes of the 1980s was a government institution: National Film Development Corporation (NFDC). A central agency established in 1975 to produce and promote high quality films, the Corporation was the driving force behind many gems in Indian cinema.

Including the greatest Hindi film comedy to be ever made.

Directed by Kundan Shah and made on a shoe string budget of Rs. 7,00,000, Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro was unsuccessful when it was released. But over the years, the exploits of Vinod Chopra (played by Naseeruddin Shah) and Sudhir Mishra (played by Ravi Biswani) became a cult classic. And it is not hard to understand why. The film’s subtle humour and satirical take on the establishment through Mahabharata and an intelligent, incisive look at corruption and injustice in License Raj India.

Ram Teri Ganga Maili (1985)

A girl clad in white clothes took a bath under a waterfall, and a nation was forced to break its silence on sex.

Raj Kapoor’s Ram Teri Ganga Maili caused a storm, for two scenes. One, where Ganga (played by Mandakini) is bathing under a waterfall, exposing her breasts through the drenched white cloth. And two, when she is breastfeeding her baby on a train.

Ganga is sexually molested by various men in the film (hence the notion of her becoming ‘impure’) and each incident is a searing indictment of the corruption and hypocrisy of India’s politicians and religious institutions. But all this is pushed aside, inevitably, whenever there is any discussion on the film.

Mandakini in a transparent saree is too powerful a motif for an India who believed in depicting sex through flowers and bees.