F.K. International [1980] 157′
country: India
director: Feroz Khan
cast: Feroz Khan, Vinod Khanna
cast: Zeenat Aman, Amrish Puri

Rajesh (Feroz Khan) leads the charmed life of a manly man Robin-Hood-like thief, a life that is more than a little sweetened by the existence of his beautiful nightclub singer girlfriend Sheela (Zeenat Aman, alas not allowed to do more than that description promises). Between random motorcycle riding and disapproving of Sheela’s job (but hey, she disapproves of his job too, so they’re on the same level here), there’s not much that troubles him . . .

. . . Until one of his jobs goes wrong and he meets his own private nemesis in the form of Inspector Amjad Khan (Amjad Khan, playing himself, but as a rather sleazy cop!?) and goes to jail for a bit.

While Rajesh is behind bars, Sheela meets single parent Dad Amar (Vinnod Khanna), and befriends and nearly falls in love with this second hairy-chested piece of manliness with the added bonus of being a widower with a highly decorative daughter. Sheela’s taste in men is a little dubious, since Amar did also stand on the wrong side of the law once, working as a smuggler for Rakka (Amrish Puri), until he disagreed with his boss’ personnel politic of shooting people who fail at their jobs and quit.

When Rajesh gets out of jail, he and Amar meet and fall madly in love with each other (well, the film calls it friendship, but isn’t really fooling anyone).

This could be the beginning of a wonderfully progressive three person relationship with bonus child, alas, Rajesh’s jail acquaintance Vikram Singh (Shakti Kapoor) and his sister Jwala Singh (Aruna Irani and her mad contact lenses of doom) have other plans.

They really, really hate Rakka (or his afro) you see, so much so that Jwala has an illuminated portrait of the man on her living room wall next to her horse pictures.

What better method to take revenge on him could there be than to kill him and blame the deed on Rajesh whom they’ll only need to rope into stealing all of Rakka’s money? Rajesh isn’t too enthusiastic about the whole thing – even without knowing about the scape goat part – because he has promised Sheela to give up on his wicked ways. But what is Amar’s little daughter Tina (Natasha Chopra) good for if not for being kidnapped to press Rajesh into service?

Qurbani was edited, produced and directed by Bollywood’s hairiest chest Feroz Khan himself and say what you will about his overly manly acting, he does handle his three other jobs very nicely indeed.

His direction shows a much finer eye for frame composition than was common in Hindi cinema at the time as well as a love for weird camera angles and more than a little problematic fashion without ever overdoing it and getting so crazy as to be eyesight-destroying.

The obligatory musical numbers by Kalyanji Anandji are mostly Bollywood standard, not as mad as they sometimes get, but extremely useful to strengthen the emotional underpinnings of the film and delight its viewers with the lesser of Zeenat Aman’s talents.

It has to be said that super macho Feroz Khan was an equal opportunity cheesecake director, and so friends of hairy, sweaty manliness will have their own moments of joy here.

Of course the film features the typically enthusiastic and slightly insane fight choreography of its time and place, with lots of jumping and kicking, a serious amount of backflipping and a friendly disinterest in physics or the way human anatomy functions. The latter is of course a good thing if you’re like me and like your action scenes entertaining instead of realistic.

The whole film has a very fine flow to it that even the usual annoying scenes of comic relief (Jagdeep in the house, why does nobody burn it down?) can’t disturb too much.

The plot consists of a merry randomness of incidents which are less bound by logic than by Qurbani’s thematic core of male friendship and sacrifice (as the title promises). Somehow, Khan manages to tie up his plot threads satisfyingly enough to come to a tight and exciting finale and a surprisingly poignant ending that shows a spiritual connection to the brand of manlove epics people like Cheng Cheh or John Woo traded in in Hong Kong.

Now, all this might sound like a million other action melodramas, and Qurbani is most certainly never original in the things it does, but the trick lies, as it often does, in the film’s flawless execution of its tropes, and in the sure hand Khan shows in deciding when to use them.

There is something deeply satisfying about a film like Qurbani that knows which buttons a genre film has to push and then pushes them expertly and incessantly with a sort of relish that stops just shy of decadence.

For more bizarre movie goodness, be sure
to visit Denis’ excellent review blog The Horror!?

---