The Crusading Hero of 1980s Revenge Dramas

Revenge dramas were a staple of 1980s and 90s Hindi cinema. This genre of film usually featured a protagonist (often male) who directly or indirectly suffers some injustice at the hands of "the system". The system could be an apathetic State, judiciary and police, oppressive old-age practices such as the zamindari system, or, on a personal level, the hero's girlfriend's rich dad. A female protagonist in a similar role was a variation of this theme. In this case, the heroine of the film would start out being thoroughly oppressed and exploited by a male authority figure, and would generally return in a masculinized avatar to beat up the bad guys and kill the villian (Rekha in Phool Bane Angaarey, 1991 or Sridevi in Farishtay, 1991). 

Rekha in Phool Bane Angaarey

Rajesh Khanna's Insaaf Main Karoonga (Shibhu Mitra, 1985) falls squarely into the category of a revenge plot. Khanna plays Ravi Khanna, a 40-year old Army Captain (don't mind my snigger) whose pretty wife (Tina Munim) is raped by his senior in his absence. She goes on to commit suicide, as a strategically placed and miraculously switched on tape recorder informs Ravi of the culprit. Ravi goes on to shoot the guilty Brigadier six times, pronouncing solemnly 'I execute you in the name of humanity'. The lucky Brigadier, however, survives (excuse me while I snigger some more). Ravi surrenders to some shady looking, long-haired Army officials but escapes when he comes to know that his nemesis is alive, and then proceeds to take revenge against him through his daughter (played by Padmini Kolhapure). 

It is weird how the film pans out after this. The film features a serious sexual assault on a woman. Yet there is no police complaint or even a court martial against the Brigadier. In fact, he quite happily recovers in a hospital. No attempt is made to even include the police or the judiciary, as Ravi takes it upon himself to avenge his wife's death. Not only does he kidnap the Brigadier's daughter, but also mistreats her, throwing her around and keeping her in captivity. The manner in which he comes to marry his wife is equally strange. He is actually attending her wedding with a friend, when her to-be father-in-law makes a demand for dowry. Our man Ravi swoops in, speechifies against dowry etc., and then promptly saves the simpering, voiceless bride from further disgrace by marrying her.

Rajesh Khanna as Ravi - the crusading hero of Insaaf Main Karoonga

Major events in the film are crimes against women, and the film ostensibly preaches women's emancipation and equality. But the women in the film are only there to be assaulted, exploited and bossed over. And their suffering is actually a means to underscore the morally impeccable nature of the hero.

A similar thing happens in another popular 80s blockbuster Himmatwala (K. Raghavendra Rao, 1983) . Ravi (uff! another Ravi, played by Jeetendra - he of the tight white pants and twinkly toes dance moves fame) is the lone crusader against the evil zamindar. He too plots revenge against him through his daughter (but thankfully this time she is in on it). His sister is beaten up and harassed by her husband and father-in-law - and these scenes, I presume were meant to criticize this terrible fact. But no one does anything about it. Again, no one lodges a police complaint. They all hang around stupidly waiting for the poor girl to die. There is some token moralizing, of course, from Ravi's side, but that's about it. 

Then why exactly are these crimes of assault, rape and harassment featured at all in these films. They have nothing to do with the main plot, and are only there to propel the saviour and crusading hero forward. The crimes are never dealt with or solved directly. They are instead projected as crimes against the honour of men, whose duty it is to protect the "modesty" of women. The actual assault, then, becomes a means of voyeuristic pleasure and nothing more. 

This kind of depiction of crimes against women as minor plots within the larger crusade of the hero carries on well into the 90s with huge commercial hits like Mohra (Rajiv Rai, 1994). Two assaults, one on the hero's sister and the other on the heroine serve to augment the hero's moral stature and provide fodder for his revenge story. Not only this, the film also features a song like 'Tu cheez badi hai mast mast' very blatantly objectifying the heroine of the film. This confuses the film's stand on the position of women even more. A similar track called 'Salma' is there also in IMK, in which a lady shimmies away as men ogle and fall all over her, with the camera focusing mostly on everything but her face. 

Tu cheez badi hai mast mast from Mohra

It is clear then that although the films discussed here do have a moral stand which says that exploitation of women is wrong, yet the films do not involve the women at all in the process of the revenge. The film never really sets out to be an indictment of patriarchy and its practices, and becomes merely a man's struggle against a vague "system".