#zanjeer

Zanjeer are Berlin-based crust punks whose lyrics about Western aggression against the Muslim world are delivered in Urdu, and who are obviously heavily influenced by the ultra-heavy sound of Scandinavian d-beat. I'm guessing they have an easy time going through airport security. Their full-length debut Seher-e-Maqhoor is out now through Neon Nile Records.

Honoring the memory of #PrakashMehra, a remarkable filmmaker in Hindi cinema, on the 14th anniversary of his passing (17/05/2009).

He was among the trailblazers of masala films, alongside #NasirHussain and #ManmohanDesai. His collaborations with the actor #AmitabhBachchan resulted in numerous sensational hits and timeless masterpieces.

Mehra commenced his journey in the late 1950s as a production controller. In 1968, he helmed Haseena Maan Jayegi, featuring Shashi Kapoor in a captivating double role. Then, in 1973, he ventured into production and direction with Zanjeer. This exceptional collaboration with Amitabh Bachchan marked the beginning of a long-lasting and fruitful partnership, spanning seven more films. Among them, six emerged as blockbuster sensations: Hera Pheri, Khoon Pasina, Muqaddar Ka Sikandar, Lawaaris, Namak Halaal, and Sharaabi.

Their final joint project, Jaadugar, unfortunately faced a setback, concluding their streak of triumphs. Zanjeer holds the distinction of launching Bachchan's career as a leading actor, while Jaadugar was released during a transitional phase in Bachchan's illustrious journey.

Prakash Mehra also stood as one of the early Bombay directors who aspired to explore Hollywood. In the late eighties, he embarked on a collaborative endeavor with Frank Yandolino to bring The God Connection to life. This ambitious project aimed to include acclaimed Hollywood actors like Charles Bronson, among others. Despite substantial initial funding, the project ultimately remained unrealized.

Today, we remember Prakash Mehra's invaluable contributions to the world of cinema, his pioneering spirit, and the indelible mark he left on the industry.

-Kahe toh aasmaan se chand taare le aaoon, haseen jawaan aur dilkash nazare le aaoon--oye, oye, qurbaan! Tera mamnoon hoon, tera mamnoon hoon tune nibhaya yaaraana--teri hasee hai aaj sabse bada nazrana!...Yaari hai imaan mera, yaar meri zindagi!

-I will bring the moon and stars for you, I will bring you beautiful new sights--oh! I would sacrifice myself for you! I am indebted to you, for you have fulfilled our beloved friendship--your smile is the greatest gift I have received today!...Friendship is my faith, my friend is my life!

October 11, 2019

by Inakshi Chandra-Mohanty

When I first watched Sholay as a naïve seven-year old girl, I didn’t realize that this was the beginning of a love affair with the movies and the enigmatic persona of Amitabh Bachchan. For the first time, I saw Bachchan as an actor, not a superstar. It is surprising since Sholay is one of the few films during Bachchan’s prime years, that isn’t typically remembered as a “Bachchan film.” Its prominence as an Indian cinema classic derives from the ensemble nature of the film, an amalgamation of brilliant performances, succinct writing, legendary music, and path-breaking cinematography and direction. But still, I felt drawn to his performance as the laid back, hilariously sarcastic Jai. Maybe his performance stood out due to the subdued nature of the character, a stark contrast to the remaining performances in the film. Or maybe my perception was influenced by the manner in which I had been exposed to his work before watching Sholay. 

Like many Indian kids, growing up in the 21st century, my introduction to Amitabh Bachchan began with Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham. As a young four year old, I was aware of his status as a legend. But no more than that. My view of him was strictly limited to the fatherly figure I had witnessed in Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, Mohabbatein, and later Kyun Ho Gaya Naa. My parents, uncles, and aunts, who were avid watchers of his films, had spent their childhood years during the Bachchan era. So, between the ages of four and seven, alongside these newer films, I was shown Bachchan films from the 70s. There was Bachchan, the angry young man, in Zanjeer and Deewar. There was Bachchan the comic star in Chupke Chupke and Amar Akbar Anthony. There was Bachchan, the stylish star in Don. But in all these, he was a “star.” No different than his contemporaries, Dharmendra, Vinod Khanna, Shashi Kapoor, Rishi Kapoor, etc. By the time I watched Sholay, I had grown accustomed to seeing his younger self on screen, albeit in a very different manner. Not only did Sholay display his strong acting skills elevated above his superstar status, but it also prompted me to reexamine some of his films that I had viewed earlier, with a more rounded perception of his character. I found his acting to be far more subdued than his contemporaries, who had given into the norm of louder acting in the 70s. Even in roles where he was required to be loud, such as Namak Halaal, Kaalia, Suhaag, Mr. Natwarlal, etc. he managed to keep his acting toned, and far away from criticism for overacting. 

My love for Amitabh Bachchan cemented itself after my viewing of Sholay and only continued to grow as I eagerly watched more and more of his work. By the age of 10, I had seen 40 films of his. And now, 10 years later, by the age of 20, I have seen 80! So obsessed was I with his work, that the 10-year old me, decided to write a letter to Amitabh Bachchan for a school assignment where we had to write to a famous person. To me, no one on earth could be more famous than Amitabh Bachchan. My classmates wrote to a wide range of American celebrities. One person even wrote to the U.S. president. But I was clear. My letter would go to India. It would go to my idol Amitabh Bachchan. In this letter, I recounted my love for him and his work, to the best ability that I could as a 10 year old. It included the number of films I had seen of his, my obsession with Sholay, and a few sentences on my favorite scene from Sholay, when Jai throws colors in Gabbar’s eyes. Though I never got a response, the process of mailing a handwritten letter to my favorite actor was extremely exciting and gratifying. Hopefully, one day I will get the opportunity to meet him and I will present to him the copy of the letter that I keep safely in my room. 

I still wonder what prompted my love for Bachchan to grow to an extent that was far beyond any other kid in my generation. My generation reveres him, respects him, but their knowledge of him is limited to just that. They don’t passionately react to his films in the same way that they might react to Shahrukh Khan, or Ranbir Kapoor. I still get surprised looks when I tell people that my favorite film is Sholay and my favorite actor Amitabh Bachchan. He is the only actor, whose films I will watch regardless of the quality of the film. I will go watch a horrible film like Thugs of Hindostaan in theaters, just because of my faith in the ability of his acting performance to transcend story, cinematography, and direction. 

He is an actor, he is a superstar, he is a legend. But more than that he is an inspiration for all generations, including those to come. There is so much left to say about him, so many more experiences, so many more films. This one page article cannot do justice to the legendary superstar that he is.

Remembering Prakash Mehra, one of the most prolific filmmakers of Hindi cinema, on his birth anniversary (13/07).

From (R to L)- Amitabh Bachchan, Jaya Bachchan and Prakash Mehra at the premiere of Zanjeer.