K Balachander’s Apoorva Raagangal (Rare Melodies) is a landmark Tamil film often cited for being the breakthrough lead role for Kamal Haasan, the debut vehicle for Rajinikanth and the bearer of one of the most melodic soundtracks of Indian cinema. What’s more, it’s a milestone in radically positing that love knows no barriers of age.
The film turned the idea of romance on its head with its focus on an unusual, complex relationship dynamic where a young man falls in love with an older woman, while her daughter gets attracted to his father. Its ambiguous open-endedness notwithstanding, Apoorva Raagangal feels liberal not just for its own times.
The film completes 50 years this August 15, the day that saw the release of one of the most commercially successful Indian films, Ramesh Sippy’s Sholay. While this much mythologised film will expectedly be the cause of many celebrations this year, it would be appropriate to also acknowledge the other cinematic saplings born that year that have grown in relevance since.
While 1957 is often called the highpoint in Indian cinema’s golden age, 1975 was noteworthy in its own way. If it signalled a turning point in Tamil cinema with the arrival of a new generation of accomplished male stars, to eventually take the baton from Sivaji Ganesan and M G Ramachandran, filmmakers like Balachander and later Bharathiraja made mainstream Tamil cinema soar to new heights in the following years.
In Telugu cinema, 1975 marked the continuation of the domination of N T Rama Rao. However, Dasari Narayan Rao’s Balipeetam is a significant pick from the year’s crop, exploring the still-relevant issue of tensions in an inter-caste marriage between a Dalit boy and a Brahmin girl.
In Malayalam cinema, the year was one of the most fecund for actor Prem Nazir, with more than a dozen releases. But more important was the arrival of G Aravindan as a force to reckon with in the parallel cinema movement. Though his debut feature Uttarayanam won the national and Kerala state film awards in 1974, its year of release is often attributed as 1975.
Aravindan dealt with the crucial issue of unemployment in the 1970s and how it was driven by conflicting ideologies—varied means geared towards the same end. With experiments with storytelling and form, Aravindan made a strong comment on political opportunism and the corruption seeping into the individual and the system.
A new wave had started sweeping into Kannada cinema as well. After Vamsha Vriksha in 1971, B V Karanth came up with the powerful Chomana Dudi (Choma’s Drum) in 1975. Based on a novel by Shivram Karanth, it is about the atrocities heaped on the family of an untouchable bonded labourer, with his anger finding a metaphorical release in the beating of the drum.
In Assam, a love story set in a tea estate, Abdul Majid’s Chameli Memsaab, ruled the roost, while in West Bengal, Uttam Kumar’s dominion extended extended with him playing the antagonist in Pijush Basu’s cult classic Bagh Bondi Khela (The Caged Tiger Game). Uttam’s other huge success was Shakti Samanta’s bilingual Amanush. While its Bengali version was released during Durga Puja in 1974, the Hindi one came five months later in 1975.
Within Hindi cinema, there was so much more to 1975 than Sholay. It was a year packed with an embarrassment of riches, spread across genres. It was the year the star writing team of Salim Khan and Javed Akhtar was credited with the two biggies—Sholay and Deewar—and a prolific Gulzar coming up with three powerful films—Aandhi, Mausam and Khushboo.
Vijay Sharma’s low-budget mythological Jai Santoshi Maa wasn’t just a massive hit second only to Sholay, but also led to the building up of a cult of the lesser-known Hindu goddess. Suddenly, every other person took to fasting for 16 Fridays to appease her. Reel life was influencing the real.
Arguably, the best mainstream Hindi film that year was Yash Chopra’s simmering and seething Deewar, about two brothers on the opposing sides of the law. Alienation, urban discontent, an anti-establishment theme and the angst of its vigilante hero, the Angry Young Man, segued well with the spirit of the times.
Talking of politics, Gulzar’s Aandhi, released that February, had to face the brunt of censorship four months after release. It was banned after the declaration of Emergency, only to be re-released in 1977 after the Janata Party came to power.
Meanwhile, Shyam Benegal was the flag bearer of the new wave in Hindi cinema with Nishant, about the exploitation of disenfranchised women at the hands of the privileged men in feudal villages.
The one film of 1975 with the most repeat value has to be Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s comedy Chupke Chupke. Based on the Bengali film Chhadmabeshi about a botany professor playing a prank on his brother-in-law and posing as his Hindi-speaking driver, the film seems to have come wrapped in a foil of perennial freshness. It continues to offer wholesome entertainment even five decades later.
Read all columns by Namrata Joshi
Namrata Joshi
Consulting Editor
Follow her on X @Namrata_Joshi