I don’t know about you, but I am filled with dread. The sweat’s running off my brow, my legs feel like jelly. I know I will have to take the plunge at some point but… will my entire being rebel? If I do make it there, will every suspicion and fear be painfully confirmed? “Stop,” I tell myself; it’s no use putting off the moment. I will have to prepare for martyrdom at the hands of Sajid Khan and Ajay Devgn as they turn on the torture with Himmatwala .

If you think I’m overdoing it, believe me, I’m not. Because, for me, Himmatwala — the original and, I fear, the remake as well — represent much of Hindi cinema that makes me cringe and tear my hair out in desperation.

The original was made in 1983, a period when the formula ruled (though parallel cinema had already made remarkable inroads). Seen three or four decades later, most of the blockbusters of the 1980s and 1970s are unbearably tedious. Those black-and-white cardboard characters, that prissily proper hero, cloyingly coy heroine, stilted dialogue delivery, all that dialogue- baazi , the dishum-dishum fight scenes where unfortunate extras were sent sailing at the merest touch from the hero — I find it all utterly painful.

And I refuse to dismiss it with that standard statement: “Oh, that was the movie-making style those days.” No, it wasn’t. It definitely wasn’t. It might interest you to know (if you didn’t already, that is) that in the same year, 1983, that Himmatwala released, a film called Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro also hit the theatres. And there were gems like Shekhar Kapur’s Masoom , Shyam Benegal’s Mandi , and Govind Nihalani’s Ardh Satya .

The mainstream, meanwhile, had Balu Mahendra’s Sadma , Mohan Kumar’s Avtaar and Lekh Tandon’s Agar Tum Na Hote .

But the hits of 1983 were Souten , Coolie , Hero , Mawaali , Justice Choudhury , Betaab , Avtaar and Sadma (some things don’t change, do they). So, there were very different sensibilities cohabiting in one crowded space.

Some of these are true classics — they never seem dated. It is difficult to believe that Masoom was made 30 years ago — so relevant and immediate, sensitive and sophisticated is the handling of the film. So, too, with Ardh Satya or Mandi or, of course, Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro . Three decades and multiple viewings later, these films still hold new joys and surprises.

But try sitting through the 1983 Himmatwala in a cinema hall today, and you’ll be straining at the leash. And that would be true of many of our blockbusters of yesteryear, often labelled ‘classics’ when they are anything but. I get antsy and weary even when I see them at home on TV, with all the freedom to take a break and wander off whenever I wish to.

As I did when I watched Himmatwala on TV on Monday night. It was tedious beyond endurance. The storyline was predictable, it was a mish-mash of the same old ingredients, the acting was pathetic. Jeetendra, of course, was famed for his lack of acting abilities but even Waheeda Rehman was reduced to hamming. The only reason one could endure the movie was because of its sheer kitsch quotient and Sridevi’s sparkle.

Yes, these are the movies that we grew up on, that we stood in long queues to see, that celebrated silver and golden jubilees. But those were different times and younger days for all of us. The world has changed and, inevitably, our cinema, too.

Nostalgia and intervening decades tend to makes us more indulgent and dim our critical faculties. When we think back fondly to the hits of those days, what we remember mainly are the songs, a couple of memorable sequences, lines of dialogue, a costume or hairdo. Our memory is selective — we remember only that which appealed to us; the dross is forgotten.

Now Sajid Khan’s cinematic memory is legendary; in fact, it is said to be encyclopaedic. There’s no denying that he’s a passionate Hindi film buff, and industry lore has it that there are few Hindi movies he hasn’t seen and few scenes that he can’t describe in detail.

But it is fair to say Sajid Khan is not the subtlest of directors. If Heyy Babyy had some semblance of sense, Housefull and Housefull 2 abandoned all pretensions. So, the thought of the overwrought Himmatwala storyline in his hands is a frightening prospect. The bits we’ve seen of his remake in the promos are not too encouraging either. ‘Romancewala’, ‘Funwala’ ‘Actionwala’, the promos promise, perfectly summing up the formula at work here.

Himmatwala is Sajid Khan’s homage to the 1980s. His sister, Farah, an equally committed Hindi film buff, has already given us her homage in Main Hoon Na . The film was a khichdi of styles, but what worked for it was that it had a sense of fun, a tongue-in-cheek take that made it palatable. And it had a certain aesthetic that elevated it. In the ‘ Tumse Milke ’ qawalli , for instance, Farah took an original song, gave it an overlay of Hindi film kitsch, sprinkled it with irony, gloss and glitter, and swung it charmingly.

On the other hand, Sajid’s ‘ Nainon Mein Sapna ’ is more or less a faithful copy of the potty original (he’d be lynched if it weren’t!), but it doesn’t have the sheen or the aesthetics that Farah achieved. Perhaps intentionally — you don’t mess with cult song sequences.

Problem is, judging by past record, the rest of the movie seems to be going the same way. We’ll know for sure today. I would be happy to be proved wrong.

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