While it’s true that I review a lot of Bollywood here at the
Gorilla’s Lament, my mandate is really much broader, encompassing
musical films from throughout Asia (as well as movies based on books
that I like.) So it was inevitable that I would review a film from
Lollywood, the Pakistani film industry, sooner or later. And just as
naturally, my first choice is Pakistan’s first X-rated film, Zinda Laash (1967), also known as The Living Corpse.
Of course, being rated X in 1967 Pakistan doesn’t mean quite the same thing as it would in the states; there’s no nudity in Zinda Laash, so sex, and very little blood, just a vampire, some suggestive hula dancing, and a very, very flexible waitress.
The film is a loose adaptation of Dracula, and even credits Bram Stoker, but it certainly doesn’t open like one. Instead, we see Professor Tabani (Rehan) hard at work creating the Elixir of Life. When he finishes, he gives a short speech about how eternal life will soon be his, scrawls a few instructions for the woman who may or may not be his maid (Nasreen), and drinks, then promptly dies in agony. The maid comes in and discovers both the body and Tabini’s note, which explains that he has discovered the secret to eternal life, but inn the unlikely event that it doesn’t work, he’d like his body placed in the coffin he keeps in his basement. (Why? And why does he have a coffin in the basement? I have no idea, and the film never says.)
The maid apparently doesn’t feel the need to notify anyone of this. Instead, she carries out her instructions and goes straight to bed. As she sleeps, Tabani rises from the grave with an unholy thirst for the blood of the living. He creeps upstairs, hypnotises her with his sinister gaze, and . . . . well, you can probably guess the rest. It is a vampire movie, after all.
Some time later, Doctor Aqil (Asad Bukhari) wanders into the Professor’s mansion for no apparent reason; when the Professor (who has taken to wearing capes because, you know, vampire) asks him why he’s there, he says something about how the villagers nearby seem to be terrified of the place, so he thought he’d take a look. Naturally, Tabani invites the complete stranger to stay, and just as naturally, Aqil has his suitcase with him.
Late at night, Aqil wakes up to hear the sound of a woman giggling. he follows the noise only to discover the maid, who has been transformed into a vampire. She performs a strange sort of hula dance in order to seduce him, and when that doesn’t work, she performs another dance. When that doesn’t work, she just bites him on the neck. Tabani arrives, tears her off of Afiq (tossing her a baby to keep her fed) and attacks Afiq himself.
Afiq wakes up on the floor, and goes upstairs to pack and to record the recent events in his diary. He’s on his way out the door when he suddenly decides to kill the vampires, so he heads off to the basement, where he sees the maid and Tabani lying in their coffins. Presented with the choice, he hesitates, then decides to kill the maid first, which naturally gives Tabani the time to get up and kill him. Afiq isn’t destined for existence as a vampire, however. His brother (Habib), who is never named in the script, has been worried about him, and manages to trace him to the mansion. The brother discovers Afiq’s diary, then goes into the basement, where he discovers Vampire Afiq slumbering, so he takes out a knife and drives it through his heart. (In Zinda Laash, vampires are destroyed by piercing the heart to let out the cursed blood.)
And then the film introduces an entirely new set of characters. Afiq’s fiance, Shabnam (Deeba), lives with her brother Parvez (Al-Ud-In) and his wife Shirin (Yasmin). As Afiq’s brother tries in vain to convince Parvez and Shirin of the vampire threat, Tabani stalks and seduces Shabnam in classic vampire fashion. And from this point, the film closely follows the plot of Dracula, so I’m going to stop summarizing it.
This is my first experience with Lollywood, but I’m used to Bollywood films being padded. The difference is, a Bollywood film will generally pad out its running time with extra songs, extraneous subplots, and Johny Lever. Zinda Laash pads out its running time with padding. We’re treated to several long shots of Tabani mixing chemicals, Afiq driving, Afiq walking, the scary pictures on the wall, more driving . . . a Bollywood picture could fit two or three other plots and maybe even some character development into the space provided.
The characters are very thin. No one seems to have a life off screen, and we’re lucky tom get even a few broad character traits per character. People make decisions for no apparent reason other than to more closely parallel the Dracula plot, despite the fact that the circumstances are very different. And this is one of those films where the characters aren’t named until at least ten minutes after they appear; Afiq’s brother, our hero, is never named, and he has no traits distinct enough to inspire a nickname. (Rising Sun Dude he’s not.)
Despite the flaws (they’re walking, they’re walking, they’re walking) there’s a certain charm and energy to the film. The end result is more interesting than entertaining, though; I was more transfixed by the cultural translation of a well known story than by anyone onscreen. It’s the kind of film that you look at, rather than watch.
Of course, being rated X in 1967 Pakistan doesn’t mean quite the same thing as it would in the states; there’s no nudity in Zinda Laash, so sex, and very little blood, just a vampire, some suggestive hula dancing, and a very, very flexible waitress.
The film is a loose adaptation of Dracula, and even credits Bram Stoker, but it certainly doesn’t open like one. Instead, we see Professor Tabani (Rehan) hard at work creating the Elixir of Life. When he finishes, he gives a short speech about how eternal life will soon be his, scrawls a few instructions for the woman who may or may not be his maid (Nasreen), and drinks, then promptly dies in agony. The maid comes in and discovers both the body and Tabini’s note, which explains that he has discovered the secret to eternal life, but inn the unlikely event that it doesn’t work, he’d like his body placed in the coffin he keeps in his basement. (Why? And why does he have a coffin in the basement? I have no idea, and the film never says.)
The maid apparently doesn’t feel the need to notify anyone of this. Instead, she carries out her instructions and goes straight to bed. As she sleeps, Tabani rises from the grave with an unholy thirst for the blood of the living. He creeps upstairs, hypnotises her with his sinister gaze, and . . . . well, you can probably guess the rest. It is a vampire movie, after all.
Some time later, Doctor Aqil (Asad Bukhari) wanders into the Professor’s mansion for no apparent reason; when the Professor (who has taken to wearing capes because, you know, vampire) asks him why he’s there, he says something about how the villagers nearby seem to be terrified of the place, so he thought he’d take a look. Naturally, Tabani invites the complete stranger to stay, and just as naturally, Aqil has his suitcase with him.
Late at night, Aqil wakes up to hear the sound of a woman giggling. he follows the noise only to discover the maid, who has been transformed into a vampire. She performs a strange sort of hula dance in order to seduce him, and when that doesn’t work, she performs another dance. When that doesn’t work, she just bites him on the neck. Tabani arrives, tears her off of Afiq (tossing her a baby to keep her fed) and attacks Afiq himself.
Afiq wakes up on the floor, and goes upstairs to pack and to record the recent events in his diary. He’s on his way out the door when he suddenly decides to kill the vampires, so he heads off to the basement, where he sees the maid and Tabani lying in their coffins. Presented with the choice, he hesitates, then decides to kill the maid first, which naturally gives Tabani the time to get up and kill him. Afiq isn’t destined for existence as a vampire, however. His brother (Habib), who is never named in the script, has been worried about him, and manages to trace him to the mansion. The brother discovers Afiq’s diary, then goes into the basement, where he discovers Vampire Afiq slumbering, so he takes out a knife and drives it through his heart. (In Zinda Laash, vampires are destroyed by piercing the heart to let out the cursed blood.)
And then the film introduces an entirely new set of characters. Afiq’s fiance, Shabnam (Deeba), lives with her brother Parvez (Al-Ud-In) and his wife Shirin (Yasmin). As Afiq’s brother tries in vain to convince Parvez and Shirin of the vampire threat, Tabani stalks and seduces Shabnam in classic vampire fashion. And from this point, the film closely follows the plot of Dracula, so I’m going to stop summarizing it.
This is my first experience with Lollywood, but I’m used to Bollywood films being padded. The difference is, a Bollywood film will generally pad out its running time with extra songs, extraneous subplots, and Johny Lever. Zinda Laash pads out its running time with padding. We’re treated to several long shots of Tabani mixing chemicals, Afiq driving, Afiq walking, the scary pictures on the wall, more driving . . . a Bollywood picture could fit two or three other plots and maybe even some character development into the space provided.
The characters are very thin. No one seems to have a life off screen, and we’re lucky tom get even a few broad character traits per character. People make decisions for no apparent reason other than to more closely parallel the Dracula plot, despite the fact that the circumstances are very different. And this is one of those films where the characters aren’t named until at least ten minutes after they appear; Afiq’s brother, our hero, is never named, and he has no traits distinct enough to inspire a nickname. (Rising Sun Dude he’s not.)
Despite the flaws (they’re walking, they’re walking, they’re walking) there’s a certain charm and energy to the film. The end result is more interesting than entertaining, though; I was more transfixed by the cultural translation of a well known story than by anyone onscreen. It’s the kind of film that you look at, rather than watch.
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