The stately descent of an eyelid; the five-minute burning glance; tears frozen on a heroine's cheek; the moustachioed hero standing to pained attention; the slowly circling dance of attendants in and out of curtains to some interminable tune. That was old Bollywood, before Shammi Kapoor came along. He could do old-style too, keeping chastely still and delivering his laments and what not, because it ran in the family's famous blood.
展开▼
