The man who stole the scene

The most enduring Hindi film of all, Sholay, is a symphony of vendettas and villains, yet amid the dust and dynamite, there stands Asrani like a misplaced vaudeville act, a character from another time, another genre.

- RAJA SEN

Asrani (centre) in 'Sholay'.

He is a khaki-clad relic whose barked orders feel like punchlines from a colonial playbook. The genius lay not merely in his Hitlerian moustache—trimmed to perfection and quivering with self-importance—but in the inspired audacity to mimic the Führer's oratorial inflections, that staccato rhythm of command laced with a theatrical ha-HA flourish, as if tyranny were but a poorly rehearsed soliloquy.

Director Ramesh Sippy had handed Asrani a book with pictures of Hitler, urging him to channel the poses. Asrani didn't just ape the look, he infused the speech with a peculiar twist, his voice swooping from authoritarian growl to indignant yelp, reminding us relentlessly that this was an “angrezon ke zamane ka jailor”: a fossil from when the British lorded over India, our very own ingrate dictator who had outlasted the empire to bully prisoners with outdated zeal.

It's a clever concept, showing how tyrants share the same evil DNA. Yet Asrani elevates it, channelling both Chaplin and Hitler, mixing the bumbling of the tramp with the bombast of the dictator. He turned witty comic relief into unforgettable absurdity, worthy of Mel Brooks. He drills inmates with exercises (“left right, left right”) while monologuing before a mirror, practicing his dominion like a ham prepping for the stage, every gesture a nod to how power corrupts not just the powerful, but the profoundly ridiculous.

Sippy later marvelled how naturally Asrani played it: “It was like he was born to play the role.”