Disco Dancer

“# *Disco Dancer* **Director:** Babbar Subhash **Music composed by:** Bappi Lahiri **Release date:** 10 December 1982 (India) **First ₹100-crore Bollywood blockbuster** **Review by Dr Usman Latif Khawaja** The film stars Mithun Chakraborty and Kim in the leading roles, with Om Puri, Gita Siddharth, and Karan Razdan in supporting roles, and Rajesh Khanna in a special appearance. ## Dizzy and delirious, but dancing I am going to be very candid and critical in my opinion of this overwrought, glitzy melodrama, which was made in 1983 as a disco epic in ludicrously bad taste by the director from hell, who employed the worst extras and the most nauseatingly disgusting sets to launch Mithun as India’s disco-dancing champion, while the rest of the world had forgotten about Donna Summer and Boney M. Notwithstanding the fact that Hollywood disco movies are anyway superior to this rags-to-riches story, which is filled with outrageously bad costumes, the most absurd villains, and very poor technical support, if any at all, since the music by Bappi Lahiri is inspired by multiple sources and the cameraman has no clue as to where to place his equipment. The result is a rip-off which is so earnest and sincere in its disco worship that you almost want to like it. But alas, the whole thing is only held afloat, barely, due to Mithun’s talent as an actor and a dancer, though, earnestly, he is not even near his normal self in either department. Yet how do you explain its immense popularity despite its silly pretensions to be a disco movie, when it is more of a kung-fu vendetta by Jimmy \[Mithun\]? Since the ’60s, when Shammi Kapoor decided to be the Elvis Presley lookalike clown, and then Jeetendra turned himself into a jumping jack in the ’70s, Bollywood had never even encountered a decent male dancing star. So, after *Grease* and *Saturday Night Fever*, the Bollywood producers were looking for an adroit replacement to make a typical spicy dish to make the masses happy. After *Suraksha*, Mithun had proven that he had ample dance potential and kung-fu talents to both outdo the female leads like Kim and beat the white baddies such as Vasco and the other foreign villains employed by Bollywood in the eighties. While his art classics like *Mrigayaa* were ignored by the mainstream, he was catapulted to superstardom by the simple equation that all the other superstars of the day could not even touch him as far as dance and action were concerned. Mr Bachchan knew about two steps, which he repeated in all his epics, equivalent to Dharmendra and Vinod Khanna, who could not dance if their lives depended on it. Just watch movies like *Laawaris*, *Shaan*, *Amar Akbar Anthony*, and *Dharam Veer*, and you will realise what I am insinuating is absolutely true. So, the Bollywood writers came up with a plot where a poor little boy, Jimmy, takes on the music mafia, who viciously insult him and his mother. He then wreaks a terrible revenge on them by means of disco dancing his way to the top, when he is not busy punishing the white imported villains with his kung-fu skills. The female lead is only around to be abused as the daughter of the master villain \[Om Shivpuri\] and is also the target of Jimmy’s affections. This is vendetta by disco, and it tries to settle every score and put every wrong to right by disco dancing. Yet the naivety becomes uniquely sincere and affective, despite being ludicrously goofy, preposterous, and offensive. Well, all is not lost, as Mithun does manage to give a convincing performance as the sulking, sultry dancer, who also manages to rescue some decent dance sequences from the Lahiri score, which is raucously deafening, with flashing strobe lights that will give you epilepsy even if you were perfectly healthy. So here we have a Bollywood superhit which is a cult classic with the Mumbai aficionados, but was about five years too late in the making as far as the rest of the globe was concerned. Yet its popularity in the Soviet bloc and Eastern Europe stems from the fact that Mithun infuses it with a raw dynamism which no Indian or world star possesses and possibly never will be able to muster in my lifetime. So who am I to criticise a movie which is still a rage and, despite all the negative criticisms heaped on it, remains a cult candy classic in India and abroad, across the globe — a coveted position enjoyed by very few Bollywood movies? And all this is due to the forthright fortitude of Mithun, who could give a sincere performance in a movie with an absurd plot and crap direction, where his mother is killed by a guitar by the loathsome villains, and he is very credible as the sorrowful, bereaved son. If you have the talent to pull off that sequence convincingly alone, then you deserve to be called a brilliant actor. Despite its camp music and awfully funny sets, which look like a Christmas tree gone wrong, it is more convincing than *Laawaris* and *Dharam Veer*, the other blockbusters of the dark era of Indian cinema, where plots were missing, melody was bankrupt, and superstars ruled the roost. Mithun at least brought some dignity to male dancing in the Indian industry with this outlandish venture, which is tasteless but unique in being the first movie of its kind in Bollywood. Yet there is a great performance by Rajesh Khanna as mentor of Jimmy, and his death scene in the end is extremely touching and emotionally empathetic! Even though it was technically a special appearance, his role as Master Raju — Jimmy’s mentor and a street singer — anchored the emotional heart of the film’s first half. He gave the ultimate global blockbuster its definitive anthem, “Goron Ki Na Kalon Ki”. That track was filmed beautifully on him and became a massive chartbuster worldwide, especially in the Soviet Union and China. Director B. Subhash actually convinced Kaka to do the three-day shoot as a favour, and it ended up linking the original Superstar directly to the decade’s biggest global phenomenon. It’s actually better than the escapism of boy-meets-girl of *Grease* and the almost impossible New York-set *Saturday Night Fever*, who is dressed like a Christmas tree himself and looks like an effeminate innuendo! No wonder, despite flaws, it became the biggest Indian global hit of all time! If I have offended any fans of *Disco Dancer*, I do apologise in anticipation, as all cinema serves for is a common intention to entertain. If it fulfils that motive, then it has fulfilled its purpose. My final salute and tribute is reserved for Mithun alone, as he was able to shape a blockbuster and a disco fever which swept India from a B-grade flick with poor production values, even by Bollywood standards. That is called a triumph of talent, and I will be grateful if people who disagree with my final assessment are able to provide a single name who has been able to establish himself or herself in the same manner. Bravo, and three cheers for Mithun Chakraborty”