The issue with isolating genre examples in Bollywood is that a lot of movies here are a hodge-podge of elements. The problem is exacerbated when you’re culling for sleaze because, especially in the period between the 70’s and late 80’s, almost any sort of Bolly-film could have a lurid scene or two sitting in the midst of otherwise bland “action-drama-romance-musical family entertainment”. Then there are those hundreds of no-budget porn-without-sex ventures, pieces of unmitigated wretchedness whose entertainment value is almost entirely restricted to the posters than to the actual product. But there are, if we look hard enough, a few gems of home-grown sexploitation we may feel patriotic about. I shall talk here about the ones I can think of.

INSAAF KA TARAZU aka The Scales of Justice (1980)

One of the most well-known sexploitation flicks in India, Insaaf Ka Tarazu cheerfully nicked off its plot from a 1976 film Lipstick. A model is raped by an acquaintance but is unable to prove it in court. After this her sister gets raped by the same guy. Then she shoots him dead and gives the now-apologetic court an earful about justice and retribution. IKT has 70’s Bollywood glam queen Zeenat Aman boldly attempting to make her mark as a “serious” actress in the lead role. It’s a mistaken attempt since for all her rolling of papads (sad attempt at translating well-known Hindi phrase) her performance is notable only for its flesh quotient and unintended hilarity. Raj Babbar with his natural lecherous quality is infinitely credible as the ultra-mega-slimeball with a fetish for non-consensual sex. The most famous bit of IKT is of course the second rape scene, where the model’s younger sis (Padmini Kolhapure) is methodically disrobed and deflowered by the Babbar. This masterpiece of concentrated sleaze is even referred to in one of the other films on this list, Jawaani Ke Gunaah.

ZAKHMI AURAT aka Wounded Woman (1988)

Zakhmi Aurat is one of my favorites in this category and if you were going to see only one from the list I’d recommend this as the most ‘bang’ for your buck. This movie shakes up sleaze, militant feminism and preposterousness into a lethally intoxicating cocktail. Dimple Kapadia, Bollywood’s favorite MILF of that time, stars as the titular character, a policewoman who in an extended and gratuitous sequence gets raped by a foursome of tongue-lolling louts, and is (no surprises here) unable to prove the dastardly assault in court. She then convenes a society of women impacted by the ‘R’ deed and makes it their real-time strategy to Capture & Castrate® those responsible. The theme appears vaguely similar to a low-budgetter called W.A.R. (Women Against Rape), which even got a release here in the 80’s at one of Mumbai’s sleaze-focused screens, but details of that film are so hard to find even on the inter-web I am unable to confirm the resemblance.

ZA right from its opening scenes shrugs off any pretence at subtlety or restraint, a decision that pays off handsomely towards its entertainment value. The film revels in its every aspect, be it the numerous rape scenes or the corresponding retribution. One of the best supporting performances comes from Roopesh Kumar, a veteran Bolly-baddie specializing in lechery; the scene of his reaction on having noticed his lapse of “membership” is priceless. The only false note comes from the casting of Raj Babbar as the sympathetic sensitive boyfriend of the graped cop: In my ideal world his character would have been revealed as a Moriarty pulling the strings and orchestrating all the rape acts in the film. All hail chief of R.A.W. (Rape Against Women).

JAWAANI KE GUNAAH aka The Crimes of Youth (1989)

In Jawaani ke Gunaah, the biggest fallout of not adhering to the norms of family planning is that “ALL YOUR DAUGHTERS WILL BECOME WHORES!!!” This strident moral stance on the evils of rampant birthing is brilliantly conveyed by the title song (Ravindra Jain) in its several reprises. This is a song that deserves to be alternated with the national anthem at all movie theaters. In the movie a father is cursed for his sin of non-abstinence by four daughters so deformed a face-on collision with an eighteen-wheel truck would only improve their appearance. With typical Bollywood illogic these ugly-pagli’s are shown to be wooed by the grocers and pimps of the neighborhood for their favors, and end up as mistresses or prostitutes.

One of them, working as a housemaid, is seduced by her employer’s son. After he catches her swiping a currency note he asks her, quite likely as one film buff to another, what happens in Insaaf Ka Taraazu. Now quite a bit happens in IKT: all the court scenes, even scenes of people taking tea and pleasantly socializing. But all this dumb cluck can come up with is the recollection of Raj Babbar asking Padmini Kolhapure to take off her clothes. Her subsequent loss of virginity is signaled by the flushing of a toilet. Another moment of hilarity is when the local pimp discovers that while his back was turned in the act of proposing business deals to the neighborhood women, his own sister has been prostituted by his bosom-ogling bosom buddies. At one point when it seems that all the threads of the film are drawing in to a tame closure, the script bungs in a brutal axe-murder climax before once again reiterating its message of “Family Planning OR ELSE!!!”