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The film starts off drearily, in a Goan hospital through which a young
woman, Maria (Shahnaaz) is being wheeled on a stretcher. She ends up on a
bed behind a screen that reads: starvation for operation. The nurse opens
Marias bag and begins to spread out Marias possessions on the bedside
table: a crucifix, a taaweez, a little idol of a Hindu god, a book in Hindi,
various portrait photographs of men. When questioned, Maria says that the
men are her old companions.

Shortly after, the doctor (AK Hangal) comes by with a horde of other doctors
and tells Maria that she needs to be operated upon urgently, since her stint
in a Portuguese jail may have done irreparable damage to her health. Maria
pleads with the doctor that she be allowed one week before the operation.
She wants to summon her old companions and talk to them. The doctor
agrees, but stresses that Maria only has this one week.
Once the doctors have taken themselves off, Maria asks the nurse for a
favour: she needs six telegrams sent out, all with the same message: that
she, Maria, is dying and wants the addressee to come immediately. Maria
tells the nurse that even though so many years have passed, she remembers
the addresses of each of the men. She begins rattling off the addresses, and
the film begins to cut back and forth between the hospital bed and the life of
whichever man Marias talking about.

To begin with, theres Subodh Sanyal, a football referee in Calcutta (played

most unconvincingly by Madhu). Subodhs refereeing a match where
mayhem breaks out between teams, fans, and just about everyone else.
Theres some disturbing footage of vehicles burning and people thrashing
each other. Subodh comes home limping and drinks himself under the table.

Then theres the Punjabi farmer, Joginder (Utpal Dutt, in a very convincing
Punjabi-speaking avatar, with Dina Pathak as his wife). Joginder has just
heard the news that the state of Punjab has been divided into two: Punjab
and Haryana. This morning, when he went out to till the fields, he was in
Punjab; now hes in Haryana. Hai bhagwan! When will the constant
partitioning of Punjab come to an end? (Joginders words, not mine).

Down south in Madras is a harijan called Mahadevan (Irshad Ali), who used
to be a staunch supporter of the spread the use of Hindi movementeven
the nameplate on his door has his name written in Hindi. Now Madras is
aflame with anti-Hindi sentiment, and Mahadevan too has done an about
turn. He even refuses to read the telegram (he doesnt know its from
Maria), which is written in Hindi rather than English.

Just the opposite is happening in Banaras, where Ram Bhagat Sharma

(Anwar Ali) is lobbying against English and for Hindi. People have been
stoning each otherand pitching stones at windowsbut Sharma, though
he thinks Hindi is the only way forward, is more interested in chattering
with his assistant (or wife? The relationship between them isnt explained,
though its obviously romantic) than paying heed to the rioting in the city.

Things are even worse in Ranchi, home to the Urdu poet Anwar Ali Anwar
(Amitabh Bachchan, in his debut role). Anwar is fervently anti-Hindi and is
very disapproving when his son writes letters home in Hindi. Things get
worse when Anwars house is ransacked and his belongings set on fire by
anti-Urdu fanatics.

Lastly, theres the Maharashtrian, Sakharam Shinde (Jalal Agha), who acts
and sings in a local theatre group. Hes the only one who seems to be
leading a fairly benign existence, unplagued by anti-Hindi, anti-Urdu, antiEnglish, anti-whatever elements. I could be wrong, though, since all the
dialogue at this point is in Marathi and went completely over my head.

At any rate, its obvious that much of India is torn apart by schisms of
region, language and religion.

Maria, waiting for her old companions to arrive, has time to think of the
past. We go into flashback, to when Goa was still part of Portugal (about
1960 or so). In a rag-tag meeting (in India, not Goa) focussing on the
liberation of Goa, the main speaker says that the Portuguese have been
spreading propaganda amongst the Goans that India doesnt care what
happens to them. We, as Hindustanis, must assure the Goans that we too are
fighting for their liberation from colonial rule. The way to do this (he says) is
to infiltrate Goa and show the Portuguese whos boss.

He asks for six volunteers, and thats when the six menJoginder, Subodh,
Mahadevan, Anwar, Ram Bhagat Sharma and Sakharamcome forward. The
speaker applauds them, and gives them a pep talk before telling them that
theyll be spending the next few days in training. This, surprisingly, seems to
be conducted mainly by Joginder himself, since he says hed been in the
army.
Anyway, after what seems like a few days of running, attacking sandbags
(and each other) with karate chops, and breaking bricks with their bare
hands, our heroes are deemed ready to get into Goa.

They take a train to Belgaum (near the border with Goa), and discover, early
on, that a Portuguese spy disguised as a tel-maalishwaala has caught on to
them. How he managed it, and whether theres a leak in the Indian
intelligence network, is never revealed, but our boys push him out of the
rushing train and to his death. Anwar goes berserk when this happens, and
some of his comrades come to the conclusion that hes a sissy and a ninny
and likely to jeopardise their mission.

But the men get off at Belgaum, and when darkness falls, are met by a Goan
insurgent who escorts them surreptitiously across the border into Goa. All
seven spend the night in a hut.
The men wake up the next morning to find that their Goan comrade is a girl,
Maria. The younger and more impressionable of the lot are a little dazzled
by this discovery, but soon recover and welcome her as a member of the
troop. The mission of the group is now revealed: the seven are supposed to
attack seven Portuguese police posts in Goa, overcome the local
constabulary (without killing them), and hoist the Indian tricolour. This will
hopefully destabilise the Portuguese, and more importantly, show the Goans

that when it comes to solidarity, the Indians cant be faulted. Each of the six
Indians has brought a tricolour with him; the last one is handed over to
Maria.

The seven Indiansthe saat Hindustaninow set off on their mission. It

takes them through the countryside, through villages and to police posts
that they sometimes defeat by stealth and sometimes by deception. Oddly
for people on such a critical mission (and one for which theyre depending
on secrecy) the band does little to keep a low profile. A lot of their days on
the march are spent in what look more like picnics than a crucial
operation

punctuated by moments of crisis, for instance when a tipsy Sakharam

divulges vital information about the group to some villagers who just may be
on the side of the Portuguese. Or when the group reaches Marias village, to
find that all the villagers, thinking the approaching band of seven people
consists of Portuguese, have hidden inside their homes. (The group draws
out the villagers by Maria ringing the church bell; Sakharam ringing the
temple bell; and Anwar calling out the aazaan. Definitely inspired by the
scene in Shichi-nin No Samurai and The Magnificent Seven where Kikuchiyo
and Chico respectively use a drum and a church bell to draw forth timid
villagers by sounding the alarm for the approach of the bandits).

Just by the way, too, they start learning a little more about each other. They
find that Maria has some terrible tragedy in her past that has led to her not
being able to sleep at night, and her hair being always short. They find that
Mahadevan is touchy about his being a harijanand that people like Ram
Bhagat Sharma and Anwar Ali, though somewhat embarrassed about it, do
think of him as untouchable and even refuse to drink water from his
canteen.

And Anwar himself is the weak link in the group, an overly sensitive,
perhaps even cowardly creature probably ill-suited for the mission, and
regarded with something akin to disdain by Ram Bhagat Sharma.

Did the seven Indians succeed in their mission? How did Maria end up in a
Portuguese jail, and then in hospital? And how come all her comrades, now

back in their respective corners of India, have drifted so far away from their
ideals of a united India?
What I liked about this film:
Amitabhs acting. Though this is his first film (and hes hampered by a nonexistent screenplay and horrendous direction), he manages to make his
presence felt. The poet Anwar, intense, earnest and sensitiveyet always
burdened with the label of cowardis probably the most interesting
character among the six men who form the group. It doesnt say a lot, since
theres not much character development anyway, but still.
What I didnt like:
The screenplay, or lack of it. For a film that already had two precursors (not
one, mind you, two; and both of them excellent, even if in different
ways), Saat Hindustan screws up big time as far as screenplay is concerned.
It is possible, of course, to see parallels between the basic stories of the
three films. Oppressed group of people (Japanese village/Mexican
farmers/Goans) are helped by a group of disparate outsiders
(samurai/gunfighters/liberationists) with no personal stake in the
undertaking. There is distrust on both sides, with one or more of the
rescuers eventually using a false alarm as a means of drawing the rescuees
out of their shells, so they can acknowledge that they want to be rescued.
Saat Hindustani takes a completely different tack from its Japanese and
Hollywood counterparts. It uses the patriotism plank, and milks it for all its
worth, down to the casting. A Bengali as a Punjabi? A Malayali as a Bengali?
A Muslim as a fanatical Hindu? A Hindu as a Muslim? A Muslim as a
Maharashtrian Hindu? A Muslim as a harijan Tamilian? Bound together by
their solidarity with a Christian girl. And they come together to liberate part
of the country from colonial rule. It doesnt get more politically correct than
this.
I dont mind all of that. The problem is that in the two and a quarter hours of
the film, nothingsubstantial happens. The action consists largely of
wandering around the Goan countryside. The attacks on the police posts are
isolated, uninteresting incidents. And very little character development
happens in the course of the film; we learn a bit (a too small bit!) about the
men, and most of that happens in the very first appearancewhen Marias
lying in hospital.
Secondly, the direction. Khwaja Ahmad Abbas directed Saat Hindustani, and
I can imagine the questions Id want to ask him if I ever met him. Why, for
example, must the camera show the reactions of every member of the seven,
when something happens? Especially when the reactions the same? I know
the sight of the Portuguese flag fluttering in the breeze would disgust any

self-respecting krantikaari; why pan across all seven faces to show it? And
that for just about every action: Maria has a swim in a river, and the men
wear identical expressions; the villagers hide in fear, and the seven look
equally anxious and surprised; Mahadevan asks if his untouchability is a
problem and everybody looks embarrassed. A panning across all seven or six
faces is fine once in a while; when it becomes a habit, theres something
wrong.
Oh, and by the way. I really dont think the Portuguese used torture of this
calibre. Spoiler coming up here (though this film deserves spoilers;
its been already spoilt enough by the writer and director to make
anything I say inconsequential). When five of the saatHindustanis end up
in a Portuguese lockup, this man is sent into the cell by the Portuguese
officer, and when he takes off his belt, the Hindustanis generally start
gibbering with sheer fright.
(Since that happens when he begins to take off his belt, I assume theyre
terrified hes going to subject them to the full Monty. Id be horror-stricken
too, but its hard to imagine the Hindustanis being so frightened at the mere
thought of being subjected to that). Spoiler ends.

Comparisons, comparisons:
What comparison? There isnt any. Really. The resemblance between Saat
Hindustani, Shichi-nin No Samurai and The Magnificent Seven is so
perfunctory as to be negligible. The story, as I mentioned, is similar in its
basics, but thats it. Everything elsedirection, screenplay, casting, acting
(except in a couple of cases, notably Amitabh Bachchan and Utpal Dutt),
cinematography, music, dialogueappears ill thought-out, haphazard,
forgettable or simply mediocre.
Ultimately, Saat Hindustani is a tedious, boring film that neither entertained
me nor moved me. The only emotion it eventually stirred in me was one of
laughter: I found myself giggling helplessly through scenes I knew were
supposed to be fraught with sentiment, but ended up being ridiculous.
But Im still glad I watched it. Now I know what its about. Ive reviewed it
on this blog. I can lift up my head and tell all those Bachchan fans out there,
Yes, Ive seen his first film. I just dont need to see it again. Ever. Yippee!
Merry Christmas!!