Ramesh Sippy’s iconic Western Sholay turns 50 today. The film has swashbuckling action by MB Shetty and Veeru Devgan, heartrending music by RD Burman, and virtuoso filmmaking by Ramesh. Some of its detractors claim that it is a flashy film and is not great for elements such as the above, but this is not the case. Two of the factors that make Sholay an enthralling watch even today are its use of silence and subtlety. The combination of deafening silence following a violent confrontation and vice versa adds a lot of flavour and poignancy to the masala film. Here are five instances that serve as the best examples of the utilisation of silence and subtle elements in the Ramesh Sippy classic.

Gabbar shoots a boy

A scene midway through the film involves the dacoit leader, Gabbar Singh (Amjad Khan), confronting a small child in the hillside village. Ramesh Sippy uses two aspects to show the loss of innocence: the gentle, repetitive creaking of the swing and a perspective shot of Gabbar pointing his gun at the boy. The atmosphere around screams silence as the swing makes the only sound we hear. It stands in stark contrast to the impending violence. It is also clever, because the horror on the boy’s face alone tells the whole story. The scene establishes the ruthlessness of the villain. What makes it even more wonderful is how Ramesh Sippy cuts off the actual shooting itself and transitions into Thakur (Sanjeev Kumar) as he comes home to witness the tragic fate of his family.

The ‘Kitne Aadmi The’ scene

The sequence begins with Gabbar's men returning from the village after admitting defeat to Jai (Amitabh Bachchan) and Veeru (Dharmendra). Their faces are a mirror image of the terror they are about to encounter. Gabbar, meanwhile, stays calm and composed. Gabbar claps his hands and strikes his whip against a rock, breaking the silence. The silence forces us to focus on every subtle movement and expression, especially the fear on the faces of Gabbar's minions. The impact of the whip on the rock also serves as punctuation for the moment where Gabbar says, ‘Kitne aadmi the?’ (How many men were there?) It is a rhetorical statement of intent rather than a question. Gabbar knows that his men surrendered against Jai and Veeru. When they beg for his mercy, Gabbar shows utter disregard for their loyalty and life. We know that something terrible is coming all along, and the lack of dialogue and music makes us wait for it with bated breath.

Jai throws colour powder on Gabbar’s face

In one key part of the film, Gabbar goes to the village with his gang of bandits and forces Jai and Veeru to beg for his mercy. A brave Veeru keeps telling Jai not to fall at Gabbar’s feet, effectively asking him to spare their lives, but Jai does not pay heed to him and rather carefully approaches the ruthless dacoit without any weapon. The lack of music in the scene draws our full attention to the characters, making us wonder how Jai will find a way out of trouble. The payoff is wonderful. Of course, legions of Sholay fans do not need any reminder as to what happens at the end of the scene. Jai pours Holi powder on Gabbar’s face, setting off the escape plan. The music takes a more buoyant turn as Basanti (Hema Malini) storms in with her cart.

Gabbar severs Thakur’s hands

Thakur's backstory, revealing the reason for his vendetta against Gabbar, is what powers Sholay from a storytelling point of view. The flashback shows Thakur, in his pomp as a police officer, cornering Gabbar and putting him behind bars. The chase scene where the officer apprehends the dacoit is action-packed and full of music. However, when Gabbar comes out of jail and cuts off Thakur's hands with a sword, there are no loud, gory sound effects. There is only minimal music throughout the scene. Like in the early sequence with Gabbar and the boy, Ramesh Sippy does not show the act itself and instead jumps to the present day soon after. This makes the moment feel even more horrific than actual. It focuses our attention entirely on Gabbar's deed, thus enhancing the shock effect and making us confront the sheer brutality on display.

Ahmed ‘comes home’ on a horse

The scene where a horse comes to the village carrying Ahmed's (Sachin Pilgaonkar) dead body captures the tragic nature of living in the village full of dacoity. The villagers gather around the horse as it comes closer and closer. The camera pans to each of their faces, which paint a picture of anxiety and maybe even a bit of hope. As the horse comes into view, the camera zooms to its saddle. Like the villagers, this is where we also realise that Ahmed is no more. However, Ramesh's film does not use the moment to milk some melodrama out of it with mere lamentation. Instead, we see the blind Imam Saheb (AK Hangal), Ahmed’s father, coming into the picture without knowing the tragedy that has just taken place. “Yeh khamoshi kyun hain, yahan?” (What is with the silence here?) the old man asks. It is the sound of the inevitable.