Jaani Dushman (1979)

This movie is considered by many to be the starting point of the new wave of Bollywood horror that veered away from the white sari-clad ghostly figures of the past and ushered in an era dominated by demonic possessions and marauding bloodthirsty monsters like the Jaani Dushman of this particular entity. Raj Kumar Kohli must have been a popular fellow because he somehow managed to persuade an astonishing array of stars to sign on for his movie, even though most of them appear to have insisted on being credited as “Special Appearance” or “Guest Appearance” performers despite enjoying perfectly respectable amounts of screen time.

Sanjeev Kumar is the central figure in the community, being the highly respected elder and Thakur of a village where a terrible curse appears to have afflicted the populace. Every new marriage ends in disaster, with the bride being abducted by a horrible creature and nobody seeming to know how, why or when. We soon discover that the Thakur himself has some rather severe psychological problems, as he starts frothing at the mouth whenever he comes across a red bridal outfit. This, he explains, is the result of a dreadful family tragedy. Years earlier, his own sister’s wedding night ended in catastrophe when the groom was trampled to death by his own horse and the distraught bride promptly threw herself to her death. The trauma of the experience has left the Thakur with some serious issues that he doesn’t appear to have entirely under control.

Unfortunately, the film soon veers away from its basic horror storyline and instead concentrates on showcasing its enormous cast of stars, giving each of them ample opportunity for the usual songs, dances, romances and melodramatics. Vast amounts of steam and direction are lost in the process and the horror becomes very much secondary to the various love stories and ego clashes unfolding on screen.

To make matters considerably worse, there are several exceedingly tedious attempts at comedy courtesy of Jagdeep and Paintal, both trying very hard but failing miserably with their infantile antics. There must be a good half hour of this horrendous comic padding, all of which slows the film to a snail’s pace. Just when one is about to nod off completely, the hairy creature finally makes an appearance, looking like an absolute twit as he prances about trying desperately to appear menacing.

After this brief interlude with the monster, it is back to more tedium in the form of romantic complications and some particularly uninspired songs from Laxmikant-Pyarelal, who appear to be operating on complete autopilot. Finally, at long last, after one prolonged yawn and a half, the climax arrives and it transpires that everything has been a bit of a cop-out. The explanation for events is unsatisfying to say the very least.

That having been said, the film somehow retains its reputation as a groundbreaking horror movie, though it is an accolade that feels largely undeserved because the film barely qualifies as horror at all.

Sanjeev Kumar performs well in what is otherwise a fairly hapless role as the troubled Thakur, while most of the other actors simply pout and posture in typical filmi fashion. Shatrughan Sinha is so immersed in his own style and swagger that he seems blissfully unaware he is taking the piss out of himself with every ridiculous action. Jeetendra spends most of the running time displaying his famously hairy torso to the delight of his admirers, while poor old Sunil Dutt really should have been passed over for the romantic lead as he appears to be on entirely the wrong side of fifty. Reena Roy is effortlessly natural in front of the camera, Rekha is a master of grand filmi-style acting, Neetu Singh turns up for a song or two and even Sarika can be spotted among the huge cast in a relatively minor role.

In the end, the fact that the monster is utterly laughable and looks like nothing more than a fat man in a bear suit hardly matters because the supposedly killer twist in the tail arrives with all the impact of a disgustingly flat can of lukewarm Pepsi.

Give me a cheap, trashy Ramsay horror any day over this sanitised and ponderous romantic saga. Somewhere along the line the film appears to have forgotten that it was supposed to be a horror movie at all and instead became a turgid exercise in high tedium.