The censors in India have more to do than just certify that a film
doesn’t show too much kissing. For instance, one of the guidelines
filmmakers in India have to follow is to ensure that “friendly relations
with foreign states are not strained” (Ministry of Information and
Broadcasting, 1992). Up until the 1997 release of the historical war
drama Border, this clause was interpreted very strictly; films
would often refer to the machinations of a nefarious “foreign power”,
but would never explicitly say just which power it was. The viewer is
meant to infer that the “foreign power” is Pakistan, but I always prefer
to think of them as agents of Mogambo instead.
In Khalnayak (1993), Ballu (Sanjay Dutt) is an agent of one of these unnamed foreign powers, and he does some Very Bad Things. After successfully doing yet another Bad Thing (assassinating a local politician) he’s arrested due to a malfunctioning motorcycle.
After the arrest, the jubilant police give a press conference, during which we learn some significant information; Ballu is a very bad boy indeed (involved in murder, election tampering, and pretty much any naughtiness he can think of), he has declared himself an orphan (despite the fact that the film opened with his mother waiting patiently for him to give up crime and return home) and the police believe he has been lead astray by the aforementioned mysterious foreign power. We also meet the officer in charge, Ram Sinha (Jackie Schroff), our designated hero.
From here, we cut to Ballu’s evil master (Pramod Mutha). We can tell he’s evil, because he has cats. Strange, panting cats. Also, he receives visitors while shaving, which is something I’ve only ever seen villains do. Oh, and he stabs a henchman to death for basically no reason. But mostly it’s the cats. Now a normal evil crimelord would be worried by the fact that the police have someone who can identify him in custody, but not this guy; he shows a refreshing faith in the loyalty and competence of his henchmen (though the guy he just stabbed may disagree.) He (and while Ballu never names him, I fear no retribution - the character is named Roshan Mahanta) wants to break Ballu out of prison, but the police have been moving him from prison to prison. Roshan is willing to wait; Ballu won’t talk, and in the meanwhile, there are elections to fix and other Bad Things to do.
After the very Bond-ish title theme (sung by Ballu’s girlfriend Sonia (Ramya Krishna), who won’t do much for the rest of the film) we cut to the prison, where Ram and Ballu have developed one of those strange chummy adversarial relationships that policemen develop with the criminals they’re interrogating, at least in this kind of movie. Ballu won’t reveal who he works for, but he’s otherwise quite chatty and gleefully plays with the minds of those around him. (Sort of like a hugely muscled Indian version of Hannibal Lector.)
After a bit of this, the police bring in the hapless Munna, one of Ballu’s accomplices. Munna has been much more cooperative, revealing details of a few planned operations, and revealing the fact that Ballu’s mother (Raakhee) is still alive. Ballu is sympathetic, telling the police they shouldn’t be too hard on the kid. Then he moves in to comfort Munna and cheerfully breaks his neck.
Ballu continues his wacky prison antics for a while. he strikes a police officer, prompting Ram to beat him in a fistfight (though since Ballu is played by the very muscled Sanjay Dutt, while Ram is the vaguely shapeless Jackie Schroff, I suspect Ballu threw the match.) He announces an escape attempt days in advance just for the fun of watching the warden (Anupam Kher) tighten security. Who’d have thought that prison would be so much fun?
Believe it or not, Ram does have a life that doesn’t revolve around Ballu. He’s in love with Ganga (Madhuri Dixit), a guard at a prison in Nasik. For reasons I was never quite able to figure out, Ram and Ganga have been fighting lately. They have a tense phone conversation, in which he says he’s coming to visit. She tells him she’s going to a friend’s wedding instead, and he should just stay home. Then she hangs up on him.
At the wedding, everyone takes a few moments to comment on what a good dancer Ganga is. This is foreshadowing, and will prove important later. Ram soon shows up, Ganga hides, and her friends refuse to tell Ram where she is. Then they lead him to her while singing and dancing.
A little later, we cut to Ganga’s aunt rebuking Ram. It seems people are talking because they’re spending so much time together, but still aren’t engaged. Ram agrees, and he’s just about to apply vermilion to Ganga’s parting when he learns that Ballu has escaped, so he drops everything (literally) and gets back to work.
The press blame the escape on Ram, since when it happened he was off cavorting with a woman he isn’t even engaged to. Ganga blames herself (despite having nothing to do with it), so she decides to recapture Ballu herself. To do so she comes up with one of those patented Bollywood bad plans - she’ll disguise herself as a dancing girl, and then perform around the district until Ballu comes to one of her shows, at which point she’ll infiltrate his gang and bring him in. (She doesn’t seem to have considered how she’ll capture a man who killed someone with his bare hands while in a room full of policemen.)
Meanwhile, Ballu is on the run, accompanied by a few men that Sophia sent for his protection. He meets with one of Rohan’s cronies, and is invited home for a party, which will feature a fantastic dancing girl . . . . So Ballu dons a clever disguise, putting on an eyepatch and a silly hat, and goes to see Ganga dance. And I have to admit, it’s a great number. I’d let Madhuri join my fugitive gang in a second.
And so we finally get to the movie proper. As Ganga and Ballu make their way across country, he falls in love with her, while she finds herself drawn to his inner nobility and tragic past. Meanwhile, Ram rescues Ballu’s mother from some overzealous policemen, and discovers that he and Ballu have something in common. (Surprisingly, they’re not brothers.) Occasionally, people fight, and in the end someone makes a noble sacrifice for the sake of love. If you’ve seen a few Bollywood films, you can write your own ending, and it will probably be very close to the end of the actual film. Still, no one goes into this kind of movie expecting a stunningly original plot. There’s a saying in the industry that “every film is based on the Ramayan or Mahabharat” and that’s certainly true here; characters in the film draw frequent parallels to the Ramayan just in case the audience hasn’t noticed.
Dutt is as charismatic as ever, and while he’s not the greatest actor in the world, he does a good job in portraying a character who is by turns a cold blooded killer, charming rogue, and tortured romantic. Despite being the designated hero, Jackie Schroff has very little to do besides make speeches and occasionally beat people up; he’s fine, but he doesn’t have much chance to impress. Madhuri has to do most of the non-violent heroing, and she does so very well. Anupam Kher is barely in the film, and despite being comic relief, the scenes where he appears aren’t terribly funny. And Raakhee, as Ballu’s long-suffering mother, pines well, and gets to deliver the big speech where we discover the moral of the film as well.
While the fight choreography is unexceptional, the film does contain some interesting set pieces, including a fight through the treetops (in which we learn that Jackie Schroff’s stunt double is a very good climber.) Songs of note include the title track, which is a skillful Bond pastiche, and “Choli Ke Peeche Kya Hai” ("What’s underneath the blouse"), which is an amazing number when Ganga sings it, and very very funny when Ballu does.
It’s hard to make a definitive statement about whether or not Khalnayak is a good movie. It’s melodramatic, overwrought, and at times gleefully over-the-top. (Since Rohan’s organization isn’t tied to any real life nation, they’re free to be cartoonishly evil for evil’s sake; I half expected Fu Manchu and Captain Zorro to walk in the door at any moment. And have I mentioned the cats?) Still, if you like that sort of thing (and I do) Khalnayak is worth a look.
In Khalnayak (1993), Ballu (Sanjay Dutt) is an agent of one of these unnamed foreign powers, and he does some Very Bad Things. After successfully doing yet another Bad Thing (assassinating a local politician) he’s arrested due to a malfunctioning motorcycle.
After the arrest, the jubilant police give a press conference, during which we learn some significant information; Ballu is a very bad boy indeed (involved in murder, election tampering, and pretty much any naughtiness he can think of), he has declared himself an orphan (despite the fact that the film opened with his mother waiting patiently for him to give up crime and return home) and the police believe he has been lead astray by the aforementioned mysterious foreign power. We also meet the officer in charge, Ram Sinha (Jackie Schroff), our designated hero.
From here, we cut to Ballu’s evil master (Pramod Mutha). We can tell he’s evil, because he has cats. Strange, panting cats. Also, he receives visitors while shaving, which is something I’ve only ever seen villains do. Oh, and he stabs a henchman to death for basically no reason. But mostly it’s the cats. Now a normal evil crimelord would be worried by the fact that the police have someone who can identify him in custody, but not this guy; he shows a refreshing faith in the loyalty and competence of his henchmen (though the guy he just stabbed may disagree.) He (and while Ballu never names him, I fear no retribution - the character is named Roshan Mahanta) wants to break Ballu out of prison, but the police have been moving him from prison to prison. Roshan is willing to wait; Ballu won’t talk, and in the meanwhile, there are elections to fix and other Bad Things to do.
After the very Bond-ish title theme (sung by Ballu’s girlfriend Sonia (Ramya Krishna), who won’t do much for the rest of the film) we cut to the prison, where Ram and Ballu have developed one of those strange chummy adversarial relationships that policemen develop with the criminals they’re interrogating, at least in this kind of movie. Ballu won’t reveal who he works for, but he’s otherwise quite chatty and gleefully plays with the minds of those around him. (Sort of like a hugely muscled Indian version of Hannibal Lector.)
After a bit of this, the police bring in the hapless Munna, one of Ballu’s accomplices. Munna has been much more cooperative, revealing details of a few planned operations, and revealing the fact that Ballu’s mother (Raakhee) is still alive. Ballu is sympathetic, telling the police they shouldn’t be too hard on the kid. Then he moves in to comfort Munna and cheerfully breaks his neck.
Ballu continues his wacky prison antics for a while. he strikes a police officer, prompting Ram to beat him in a fistfight (though since Ballu is played by the very muscled Sanjay Dutt, while Ram is the vaguely shapeless Jackie Schroff, I suspect Ballu threw the match.) He announces an escape attempt days in advance just for the fun of watching the warden (Anupam Kher) tighten security. Who’d have thought that prison would be so much fun?
Believe it or not, Ram does have a life that doesn’t revolve around Ballu. He’s in love with Ganga (Madhuri Dixit), a guard at a prison in Nasik. For reasons I was never quite able to figure out, Ram and Ganga have been fighting lately. They have a tense phone conversation, in which he says he’s coming to visit. She tells him she’s going to a friend’s wedding instead, and he should just stay home. Then she hangs up on him.
At the wedding, everyone takes a few moments to comment on what a good dancer Ganga is. This is foreshadowing, and will prove important later. Ram soon shows up, Ganga hides, and her friends refuse to tell Ram where she is. Then they lead him to her while singing and dancing.
A little later, we cut to Ganga’s aunt rebuking Ram. It seems people are talking because they’re spending so much time together, but still aren’t engaged. Ram agrees, and he’s just about to apply vermilion to Ganga’s parting when he learns that Ballu has escaped, so he drops everything (literally) and gets back to work.
The press blame the escape on Ram, since when it happened he was off cavorting with a woman he isn’t even engaged to. Ganga blames herself (despite having nothing to do with it), so she decides to recapture Ballu herself. To do so she comes up with one of those patented Bollywood bad plans - she’ll disguise herself as a dancing girl, and then perform around the district until Ballu comes to one of her shows, at which point she’ll infiltrate his gang and bring him in. (She doesn’t seem to have considered how she’ll capture a man who killed someone with his bare hands while in a room full of policemen.)
Meanwhile, Ballu is on the run, accompanied by a few men that Sophia sent for his protection. He meets with one of Rohan’s cronies, and is invited home for a party, which will feature a fantastic dancing girl . . . . So Ballu dons a clever disguise, putting on an eyepatch and a silly hat, and goes to see Ganga dance. And I have to admit, it’s a great number. I’d let Madhuri join my fugitive gang in a second.
And so we finally get to the movie proper. As Ganga and Ballu make their way across country, he falls in love with her, while she finds herself drawn to his inner nobility and tragic past. Meanwhile, Ram rescues Ballu’s mother from some overzealous policemen, and discovers that he and Ballu have something in common. (Surprisingly, they’re not brothers.) Occasionally, people fight, and in the end someone makes a noble sacrifice for the sake of love. If you’ve seen a few Bollywood films, you can write your own ending, and it will probably be very close to the end of the actual film. Still, no one goes into this kind of movie expecting a stunningly original plot. There’s a saying in the industry that “every film is based on the Ramayan or Mahabharat” and that’s certainly true here; characters in the film draw frequent parallels to the Ramayan just in case the audience hasn’t noticed.
Dutt is as charismatic as ever, and while he’s not the greatest actor in the world, he does a good job in portraying a character who is by turns a cold blooded killer, charming rogue, and tortured romantic. Despite being the designated hero, Jackie Schroff has very little to do besides make speeches and occasionally beat people up; he’s fine, but he doesn’t have much chance to impress. Madhuri has to do most of the non-violent heroing, and she does so very well. Anupam Kher is barely in the film, and despite being comic relief, the scenes where he appears aren’t terribly funny. And Raakhee, as Ballu’s long-suffering mother, pines well, and gets to deliver the big speech where we discover the moral of the film as well.
While the fight choreography is unexceptional, the film does contain some interesting set pieces, including a fight through the treetops (in which we learn that Jackie Schroff’s stunt double is a very good climber.) Songs of note include the title track, which is a skillful Bond pastiche, and “Choli Ke Peeche Kya Hai” ("What’s underneath the blouse"), which is an amazing number when Ganga sings it, and very very funny when Ballu does.
It’s hard to make a definitive statement about whether or not Khalnayak is a good movie. It’s melodramatic, overwrought, and at times gleefully over-the-top. (Since Rohan’s organization isn’t tied to any real life nation, they’re free to be cartoonishly evil for evil’s sake; I half expected Fu Manchu and Captain Zorro to walk in the door at any moment. And have I mentioned the cats?) Still, if you like that sort of thing (and I do) Khalnayak is worth a look.
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