The film opens with the villain of the piece, who is simply referred to as ‘Boss’, watching as a woman madly flees from a house. In terror, she gets into a car and drives off at speed – excessive speed. She is driving so fast she cannot control the car and starts swerving across the road (this may be because her brakes lines have been cut — but don’t quote me on that). This comes to an end when she crashes through a stone barrier and drives off a cliff. Now how do we know that the man watching must be a villain. Well he is dressed in a hat and wearing sunglasses. Furthermore he is wearing ‘weird’ red gloves and is stroking a cat which he cradles under his arm. If that isn’t visual shorthand for ‘villain’, I don’t know what is.

While, admittedly, some of my enjoyment of Khoon Khoon arose from the novelty of it being a Bollywood adaptation of one of my favorite films — just as it was with Inkaar, Raj N. Sippy’s reworking of Kurosawa’s High and Low — I also found it irresistibly watchable on its own terms. It is a taughtly-paced, rough-edged and deliciously trashy little thriller with all the garish accouterments I’ve come to love from 1970s Indian cinema. That it also turns that freaky, funky Bollywood funhouse mirror on an American classic is just the day-glo frosting on the cake. Okay, granted, the overwhelming feeling I brought away from it was a desire to watch Dirty Harry again. But since when is that a bad thing?

An obscurity like Love and Murder probably isn’t on the top of anyone’s list of films to hunt down and restore, but it’s nice to dream. The movie’s tale of an innocent trapped in a den of scoundrels is told with enough style and effectiveness to show that, despite its poverty row roots, a considerable amount of care went into its making. To my mind, it would be nice to see that care rewarded with a little retroactive TLC. Until then, we’ll just have to use our imaginations to fill in Love and Murder‘s gaps, while trying to get the most out of what there is left of it to enjoy.

Geetaa Mera Naam‘s opening title card, displayed immediately before the title itself, introduces the film as “R.K. Nayyar’s Conception of a Super Hit”. And R.K. Nayyar’s conceptual instincts were apparently right on the mark, because the film indeed turned out to be quite popular with audiences. Sadhana would get her wish and be remembered as a heroine, even though the most indelible image to be taken away from the film might not be so much one of her heroic exploits as it would be her being whipped while wearing a white mini and go-go boots by a guy who looks like a Village People version of a medieval blacksmith. To my mind, however, that does nothing to lessen her status. Just the fact that she made this crazy movie is enough to make her a heroine in my eyes.

Having dipped into Bollywood westerns, I have to admit to not knowing just how deep the well goes. I am aware that Feroz Khan made at least one other film in the genre — Khotte Sikkay, an apparent reworking of For a Few Dollars More — but, beyond Kaala Sona, Sholay and that, I don’t know how many films the genre comprises. But it is to Kaala Sona‘s credit that I fully intend to find out. There’s just something about the combination of the Western genre’s Spartan, rough-hewn aesthetic with Bollywood’s tendency toward the exuberant and phantasmagorical that I find hard to resist. If you want to join me in this new obsession, Kaala Sona is certainly a good place to start.

Vijay, Ravi, Rakesh, and the gals somehow employ a entire gypsy dance and acrobat troupe and use it to infiltrate Shakal’s fortress — because as much as bald megalomaniac super villains love the privacy of a private island space-age lair, they love a sumptuous floor show even more. The whole number turns into a wild, action-packed free-for-all that includes kungfu, shoot-outs, Rakesh and Ravi fighting supermen in gas masks in a chamber filling with poison gas — in which Shakal himself is sitting without a gas mask! — and, of course, Amitabh wrestling a crocodile.

If you are looking for a good Indian film but are scared by all the festivities, Don is a great place to start. It’s long but never dull, and the musical indulgences are subdued. What’s more, it’s just a damn good action film. Don is a shining example of why a well-written, well-performed film is so much more enjoyable than any of those dime a dozen blockbusters we have now. Despite the silliness that may creep into the story, Don makes you care about the characters, and that makes you care about the movie. Amitabh Bachchan and Zeenat Aman deserve places at the top of the action film pyramid, and Don is the reason why. If you want to see one great example of 1970s action, you could do a hell of a lot worse than…Don!