Yaadon ki Baraat (1973)

Yaadon ki Baraat stormed the Box Office way back in 1973, establishing its key star Dharmendra’s credentials as a major star with enviable staying power. The film came from the reputed banner of Nasir Husain productions, and the man himself directed and produced this effort, which became one of their biggest money-spinners.

Though Yaadon ki Baraat offers a plot that is utterly formulaic and as stale as mildewed socks, somehow the different ingredients that make up the whole seem to click together. The resulting chemistry more than saves the day; it elevates a potentially humdrum, mundane masala film into a film that has earned a lasting reputation and had a lasting effect.

The rather unimaginative plot involves a saintly family of 3 young boys and their parents living blissful lives without a care in the world. Fate intervenes cruelly when the artist father crosses paths with the heinous villain Shakal (Ajit). Shakal is seen fleeing the scene of a murder by the self-righteous artist one night, and later when Shakal spies the artist approaching the police, he is compelled to act. The vicious Shakal brutally murders the artist that night – a grisly crime witnessed by the eldest child Shanker before all three sons scamper for cover from the murderous Shakal. In this frenzy, the boys are tragically separated.

Shanker, the eldest son, grows up traumatised by his memories – the loss of his younger brother on the rail tracks and the brutal murder of his beloved father – he also remembers the songs that the whole family would sing each anniversary; on December the 15th! Vijay Arora, the second son, is fortunate to be adopted by an earnest middle-class man who is not desperately poor but is hardly rich either. The youngest son has grown up to become Monto, an extremely talented and nattily dressed pop star who thrills trendy swinging audiences at a fab local joint, The Blue Heaven Hotel.

After the dramatic opening, the middle half of the film is devoted to the frothy, light-hearted romance between the rather charming and dapper if slightly greasy Vijay Arora and Zeenat Aman fresh from the success of Hare Rama Hare Krishna. Never has Zeenie looked as good as in any film before or after this one. The romance is reasonably engaging with the usual pranks and misunderstandings, eventually leading to true love.

Perhaps the most significant factor in elevating the rather ordinary and predictable proceedings to something extraordinary was the sublime tunes composed by R.D. Burman, who was allowed to indulge in his passion for a more “westernised” sound. The songs he wrote for this film have become icons of an era, and one of them, “Chura Liya Hai”, is virtually an anthem thirty years after it was first released and must rank as one of the twenty most popular Bollywood songs of all time. Asha Bhosle never sounded more sensuous. Zeenat Aman in that pseudo white dress, rocking gently while strumming her guitar, is alluring and a memorable moment of classic 70’s Bollywood cinema.

If that wasn’t enough, the film’s second song is the glorious Aap ke kamre mein, another westernised poppy number by Asha and co. Another number, “O Meri Soni”, crackles with energy and once again finds Asha in supreme form singing circles around a fairly impressive Kishore Kumar. Finally, even the family theme song is perfectly tuneful and acceptable.

Dharmendra scowls and growls typically in his role as the vengeance obsessed Shanker, flaring his nostrils and looking suitably angry and pained in equal measure. Vijay Arora, who never really made it to the A league, is likeable as the frivolous, romantic middle brother. Still, Tariq is striking as Monto, the pop star who steals the show with his gorgeous smouldering looks and the sheer charm and raw animal magnetism that he exudes.

How Aamir Khan became a superstar while the far more handsome and immeasurably more talented Tariq has been primarily sidelined just goes to show how unjust life can be! Among the solid supporting cast are Jalal Agha, Imtiaz Khan and Satyen Kappu, in a pivotal role.

However, easily upstaging and outclassing everyone on the rostrum is seasoned super-villain Ajit as the deadly Shakal.

Oozing suaveness, charm, sliminess and menace in perfect proportions, Ajit once again proves himself to be in the master class of Bollywood villains – second to none – especially when the role required a silky touch of class to camouflage the deadly killer intent! Ajit is at his brilliant best in his traditional blond wig, impeccable white suit and matching shoes, and black felt gloves spouting some deadly couplets in English. The only problem with his role is that perhaps it isn’t long enough!

So, R. D. Burman takes top honours, but Ajit, Zeenat Aman, Dharmendra, Vijay Arora and the magnificent Geek-god (no spelling mistake) all play their parts to near perfection. The staleness of the plot proves less of a liability than it should have as the film is rescued by the strong cast, the chemistry between the players and the memorable tunes of R.D. One or two fights and a comedy scene could easily have been axed for brevity and left for the director cut.

On the whole, Yaadon ki Baraat may not have won too many awards, but it was a big people’s favourite in its day, and its songs are as popular 30 years on. Yaadon ki Baraat is undoubtedly not a great film by any stretch of the imagination but a memorable one nonetheless and certainly qualifying as vintage 70’s Bollywood.