Surakksha (1979)

This film combined three elements that brought off several B-grade coups during the disco-dancing 80s. Firstly there is producer-financer B. Subash and what was to become his dynamic duo of mujik (music) composer Bappi Lahiri and dancing black belt superstar Mithun Chakraborty. The film is a bombastic desi version of James Bond on a shoestring budget. What it lacks in hi-tech considerable budget wizardry, it makes up for with its abundance of maniacal energy, self-effacing wit and cheesy style.

The film begins on a high with the fabulous theme song ‘Gunmaster G-9’ being accompanied by frenzied scenes of super hunk Agent Gunmaster G-9 (Mithun) being swamped by a bevvy of scantily clad beauties wherever he happens to go, anywhere in the city, day or night. If anything, our G-9 is even more of a swinging playboy than James Bond was in his wild, wanton Connery days of the pre-safe-sex era. However, his frolics with the girls will soon come to a shuddering end as Iftikhar, playing a worthy M clone, calls up G-9 with dire news of a dreadfully dangerous new underworld organization threatening to destroy the country from within.

The first signs of trouble occur when a jet plane operated by Capt. Suresh Oberoi is attacked by a stream of deadly radioactive signals (an SSO signature), forcing it to make a crash landing in the middle of nowhere. It is all part of the nefarious plot cooked up by the dreaded Shiv Shakti Organization that threatens to wreak havoc shortly. The SSO heavies abduct G-9’s partner Jackson and an insidious replicant takes his place that doesn’t fool the canny G-9 for a moment.

In his mission to rescue his buddy Jackson and, more importantly, to crush the evil empire of the Shiv Shakti Organization and the dastardly team that comprise its high command, G-9 must cope with all sorts of mayhem which he manages to sidestep with ridiculous ease,, almost arrogance. However, he must call upon an array of mind-boggling and gravity-defying stunts to make much headway against the hardened criminals of the SSO organization.

Along the way to the breath-taking finale, there are death-defying car chases, dancing go-go girls, villains with calculators affixed to their metallic hands, voodoo rituals, murder, mayhem, kung-fu and the obligatory romance and light comedy courtesy of the amazingly prolific (and awful) Jagdeep.

Mithun sets the pace with a career-defining performance in which he lives his role perfectly. He is charmingly boyish yet sophisticated and with an astonishing killer instinct. Yet, he truly excels in the fight scenes where his highly touted Black belt capabilities come to the fore.

Director Raveekant Nagaich, who did such a sterling job on Jadu Tona, goes for an audacious no-holes-barred approach with no compromise on the stream of spectacular stunts and dazzling special effects, however threadbare the budget was. Jagdeep is relatively inoffensive as the Bond sidekick, more in the mould of Seller’s Pink Panther sidekick Kato.

Ranjeeta provides some good catfights along the way but is no match for Mithun’s charm. Jeevan is in top form as the second in command at the SSO, turning in a vintage performance not long before his death. However, besides the majestic special effects, the surprise package is the spellbinding performance of the little-known villain who plays the eye-patch-wearing Dr Shiva, a deranged megalomaniac and founding father of the world-threatening SSO.

Mithun has his work cut out for him trying to steer clear of all the assorted horrors jumping out at him from all directions, with perhaps the acrobatic, leaping water snakes being the most nightmarish foe of the lot. The film is possibly the biggest cult classic to emerge from Bollywood in the modern era – it has everything going for it. Right from the outstanding theme song to the babes, the spectacular special effects, the dances, and those stunts alone are enough to render this film a major cult classic to be reckoned with.