Phaansi features Shashi Kapoor circa 1978 at the height of his...I was going to say "powers" but really it's his lovely curls and big eyelashes.
He plays a sort of character I haven't seen him do before: a sort of heroic lone gunman who growls, sweats, and shoots more than he grins and woos.
|Even when costumed insanely.|
|Head-to-toe peach is not acceptable on anyone, not even Shashi Kapoor.|
|Not that there's anything wrong with that|
Raju is a just barely inside-the-law police officer
While Shashi's performance was passable, it didn't quite convince me. Maybe I'm just so accustomed to seeing him as law-abiding that I couldn't imagine him dallying with vigilantism. Phaansi is one of the dozen films he had release in 1978, and he does not bring his A-game to this one, apparently having saved that for Trishul, Satyam Shivam Sundaram, and Amar Shakti. He's better in the first two songs ("Jab Aati Hogi Yaag Meri" and "Bachchiyan Jawan Te Boodhiyan")—bring on the puppet moves!—which both also feature flirting with Sulakshana than he is snarling lines at Ranjeet. It's not that Shashi can't snarl effectively—see Junoon, for example—but I think introducing him as a sunny loverboy and then lurching into enforcer after tragedy strikes his family doesn't quite work here. Interestingly, he can do it the other way around, as in Ganga aur Suraj (also with Sulakshana Pandit) where he's a rifle-toting badass from the get-go and then reforms. It's easier to imagine someone like Dharmendra, Vinod Khanna, or Amitabh Bachchan doing better at this particular mix of canoodling and vengeance.
|Don't cry, Shashi. I still love you.|
In fact, Shashi is really the only significant problem I have with this film. (Wow, I never thought I'd hear myself say that.) Director Harmesh Malhotra, who also did the excellent Gaddar (discussed at length in this episode of Masala Zindabad) with many of the same people, and writer Ravi Kapoor (Ashanti and Sheshnaag, among others) have created a good story with several interesting characters representing many different shades of evil. It's not just "good vs. bad"—there's a lot more to it than that. The hero himself is not exactly perfect, and the lovely idea of reform and change is embodied by the person to whom this film truly belongs: PRAN.
Pran is so amazing in this film that he manages to talk Ranjeet and his whole crew of baddies (including Shetty, who has more lines in this film than in all the other movies I've seen put together) out of murder! HE PREVENTS CRIMES WITH HIS WORDS. He has decided on some principles and lives by them. He inspires other people to think about their own ethics. He constantly examines situations to assess the action that leads to the greatest good. He is weary yet committed, solitary yet community-minded. This character is fascinating and Pran does a brilliant job giving Himmat Singh strength and nuance.
I cannot leave this film without saying how stupid Sulakshana's character is. Chayya is the type of woman who even in this rough-and-tumble daku world usually (though not always, notably) sits and whimpers while men do the dirty work, some of which is a direct result of her foolish decisions. I wonder if she is meant to be considerably younger than Sulakshana is, as Chayya's actions make more sense for a teenager than for a young woman.
|"Throw self on bed and pout" is a behavior I associate with Jan Brady.|
However, I applaud her hallucination of her wedding night. It's not as good as Rakhee's in Sharmeelee, but then again, what is!
|I am not pleased with the lack of punctuation here, but it's too late at night to open Photoshop up again.|