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Promises and lies

Ashok Banker

Ruk jaa, Shah Rukh

The Promises: Shah Rukh has a habit of saying one thing, meaning another and doing a third altogether. Speaking about his venture into film production, he claimed, "When I make a movie, it won’t be just another fluffy romantic comedy." He talked about Hollywood’s ability to combine serious subjects with an entertaining approach, and how it was time such films were produced here too.

Speaking about money, just a few years ago, he used to take pride in the fact that money wasn’t important to him. "I have very simple needs," was a favourite statement. In fact, in an interview for a Society cover story in 1995, just before the release of Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa, he claimed he had a bank balance of only Rs 5,000 and was happy with that!

Before his son Aryaan was born, he said he would cut down on his work to devote more quality time to his family. He even claimed in several interviews that he would probably quit movies in the next five years.

The Lies: His first movie as a producer, Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani, releases in January. The promos and songs aired on television certainly don’t suggest that the film has anything new to offer. In fact, the film’s own publicity presents it as a light romantic comedy. If this is SRK’s idea of making a more meaningful, serious film, then we’ll give it a skip, thank you. He should change his production company’s name from Dreamz Unlimited to Reams Unlimited, because it’s obvious that all he wanted from those big promises was reams of publicity!

Speaking of money, isn’t this the same Shah Rukh who endorses a dozen different products, does lucrative stage shows, makes frequent appearances at shaadis for a fee -- charging extra if he’s asked to dance! Even when he had a great opportunity to make a great movie with his maiden home production, he's played it super-safe.

As for cutting back on his work to spend more time with his family, he seems to be doing more today than he was back then. The five years are up, and does he look like he's retiring? Not at all.

The Resolution: From now on, Shah Rukh, tu rukh jaa. A total halt. Stop acting, producing, stage shows, wedding appearances, modelling for ads, the works. Don’t talk about losing opportunities or money: you’ve got enough for 10 lifetimes. What you need is to stop and take stock of your life and career. You’re a very gifted artiste, probably the best actor in the business today. But your limitations have become more visible than your strengths. Even your greatest fans agree you repeat yourself, gestures, actions, mannerisms, roles, scripts. Like other great actors, you’re starting to become a caricature of yourself:

Remember how Rajesh Khanna changed from a serious and sincere young actor into a stylish buffoon? Dharmendra in his jaded, bloated later years? Amitabh Bachchan? Get out before you fall into that same trap. Find that part of yourself which first made you a star: The deep well of sleeping talent that’s been replaced by all the superficiality of stardom. It’s not all tapped out, as your critics believe. You have enough to last another millennium. But you have to do this now, before it’s too late.

And when you have found that secret store of power and energy, come back to films not as an actor at first, but -- are you listening? -- as a writer. A screenwriter to be precise. From samples of your writing over the years, I’ve come to believe that you could be the best screenwriter in this industry. Sit down, write about what you care about most. Forget the commercial aspect completely. You have enough audience pull to guarantee even a Schindler’s List a decent opening. Write your heart out. Then direct and produce the film yourself. Give it all your attention and energy. And star in it. If Mel Gibson could turn from an action hero into the Oscar-winning producer-director-star of Braveheart, you could change Bollywood history forever.

Got it? Now get out of here -- out of Bollywood. And get to the real work. You’ve done a Baadshah already, and proven just how Bad a Shah you can be. Now show us the GoodShah you’re capable of becoming.

Ms Chawla ya Mrs Mehta?

The Promise: I’m not married, she protested when cine mags broke the news a year ago, and even today, she continues to deny it outright. When and if she did get married, she would be the first to let the press know. After all, why should she hide such a fact?! Because she’s afraid of being struck by the 'married' curse that all Bollywood heroines fear? Not her, nako re baba. She’s more interested in making good films which use the latest Hollywood techniques and gloss than in playing the No 1 game.

The Lie: She’s not just married, she’s probably celebrating her wedding anniversary this year! If sources are to be believed, the reason she keeps denying it is because she’s very afraid of the 'married' curse. After all, she saw how it killed a dozen careers, the most recent victim being Sridevi. And unlike Madhuri Dixit who had the courage to announce it publicly and even invite the press for photo-sessions, Juhi still continues to pretend that she’s single and fiance-free.

Unfortunately for her, the 'married' curse struck anyway -- except that in her case, it’s more of a 'flop' curse. As for making good, glossy, Hollywood-style films, let’s face it: she takes whatever she can get. Which isn’t much these days. And since when did heroines in Bollywood ever have a say in how glossy their films are?

Who are you fooling anyway, Juhi? You’re just fighting to survive. And the reason you deny your marriage (and your husband) is because you still have ambitions of being No 1 someday.

The Resolution: Retire. After about 15 years, you can come back in and older sister or mother’s roles. Like Rakhee, Dimple and a dozen other former heroines. At least enjoy your marriage and your personal life and come back without the pressure of competition. Hopefully, by then, you’ll be able to drop that tedious dumb brunette act you put on in your films and be the highly intelligent woman you are in real life. Now, that will be a Juhi Chawla worth watching. Except of course, it won’t be Juhi Chawla, it will be Juhi Mehta!

No more Bhatts, please

The Promise: I’m going to retire from direction, he said. And although we didn’t really believe him, we wanted to. Because it was obvious that Mahesh Bhatt had lost it. Whatever that spark of original talent that had driven him to create films like Arth and Saraansh -- and even Dil Hai Ki Maanta Nahin and Hum Hain Rahi Pyaar Ke -- was, it was definitely burnt out.

He had reached a new low in his career, churning out mindless remakes and ripping off Hollywood as if it was his birthright. And he wasn’t even making waves at the box office. So when he said he was going to sit back and encourage new talent for a change, and spend his time writing, we breathed a sigh of relief. And looked forward to him writing meaningful scripts and books, or perhaps launching some really dhaansu new directorial talents.

The first taste we had of the 'new, improved Mahesh Bhatt' was his brilliant script for Zakhm. It had the intensity of his debut film, Manzilein Aur Bhi Hain, and, like Manzilein, it was outspoken enough to almost get banned (Manzilein, of course, was banned outright during the Emergency and, in fact, only the story idea was by Bhatt; the script was by his mentor, Satyadev Dubey). If this was the kind of writing he intended to do, every film fan would bless him!

The Lie: Instead, all Bhatt did was turn his own career sickness into a family disease. First he began supporting daughter Pooja’s ambition to turn producer. Which was the biggest mistake she ever made. From the fresh young debutante of Daddy, Pooja could have gone on to become the Winona Ryder of India if she had wanted to, working equally hard on her appearance and ability to make movies that were truly woman-oriented.

What she did instead was fatten up and churn out the same mindless trash. Even in her teleserials, she could have done anything if she had wanted -- look at how beautifully Neena Gupta uses the medium in Saans and Palchhin for instance -- but Pooja made a hash of those too. If she hadn’t had Mahesh Bhatt as her father, she would have had to continue acting to earn a living and that would probably have forced her to slog it out and work her way up like anyone else.

As if messing up as a father wasn’t bad enough, Bhatt then became a godfather to Tanuja Chandra. Under his influence --and with his 'scripts' -- she made two films that were more notable for how blatantly they aped Hollywood hits than for the quality of their content. (Dushman was the remake of An Eye For An Eye, Sangharsh was a remake of Silence Of The Lambs.) Dushman's saving grace was Kajol, but Sangharsh was drowned in a cacophony of unbelievably bad acting by everyone in the film.

Even Chandra’s work on the initial episodes of teleserial Ajeeb Daastaan (executive produced by Bhatt for Plus Channel) was head-and-shoulders above these. If re-writing Hollywood scripts in Hindi is Bhatt’s idea of writing, someone should please take his pen away quickly. How could a man capable of writing a Zakhm waste his talent churning out something like Sangharsh?

And as for his goal of introducing new talent, well, we all know how successful his earlier discoveries (like Rahul Roy, Atul Agnihotri, Deepak Tijori, et al) turned out in the long run.

The Resolution: Mahesh Bhatt should turn to acting. That’s right. He has a natural abrasiveness and an open face with a lot of character and of course, the gifts of a great intellect and a tremendous knowledge of film-making. He would make a great character star. And I mean, star, not actor. If Nana Patekar can make a few speeches and become a star, Mahesh Bhatt could be a superstar. But first, he would have to give up being a scriptwriter, executive producer and all that jazz. At least one advantage his producers would have then is that he can’t make his movies by faxing or phoning in instructions: as an actor, he would have to be present on the sets at all times, on camera!

Ay Aamir? Aata kya, mainstream mein?

The Promise: He would do only one film a year, but it would be a memorable one. Making good films was more important to him than being No 1, in any sense of the term. He would try to do roles that were challenging and which expanded his range as an actor. The kind of roles that other stars would hesitate to touch for fear of compromising their starry image.

He claimed he was a thorough professional and would only work with truly discerning film-makers who shared a similar commitment to quality cinema. Aamir has always been very simple in his claims: he’s a one-track horse.

The Lie: But while his promises have always been one-track, his actions have been so many that you might wonder if he suffers from MPD (multiple personality disorder). Look at the contradiction he throws up with every new movie. Was Ishq an example of memorable cinema? It seemed more like a regular money-spinner aimed at the front row crowd.

And what about Mann? He had his favourite director, Indra Kumar, and a great original film as a base, even if it was a copy -- the Cary Grant-Deborah Kerr starrer, An Affair To Remember. But he denied that Mann was based on that classic romance, even if entire sequences like the fountain scene were lifted frame-by-frame! And, despite all this, Mann still ended up as a real-life Titanic disaster.

As for being a professional, Aamir was the one who couldn’t commit dates to Shekhar Kapur’s Time Machine and later demanded extra payment for further dates from the producer, effectively forcing -- what could have been a great entertainer -- into being shelved. And isn’t it true that he has refused to work with Karisma Kapoor after Raja Hindustani because she stole the show from him? Perhaps he got tired of people commenting that the film should have been called Rani Hindustani instead!

The Resolution: Aamir did begin his career as a humble assistant to his cousin, Mansoor Khan. Even in his debut Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak, he spent as much time behind the camera as in front of it. And his penchant for thinking like a director on his sets is so notorious that even the director of photography often looks at him to okay a shot!

So why fight it, Aamir? Take up your first love. Become a director. That way, you’ll have maximum control of your resources and nobody to fight with. And with your knowledge of cinema and technique, you’ll do a very good job. But, of course, you wouldn’t be able to stand directing one of your rival stars -- even you’re not that professional a professional! So fine, continue acting in your own films. At least, this way, you’ll be able to keep your promises and make really good films. And spare us another Ishq or Mann.

Is it Thakshak or dhak-dhak, Mr Nihalani?

The Promise: I’m going to make my first commercial film, but it will also be a very good film. Govind Nihalani, the director whose last film was Hazaar Chaurasi Ki Maa, and who made an indelible mark on Hindi film history with films like Ardh Satya, was taking what seemed like a bold new step.

Like virtually every other art director, he was entering the big, bad, commercial world of Bollywood. Unlike others, like Sanjay Leela Bhansali and Vidhu Vinod Chopra who jumped onto the commercial bandwagon at the first opportunity, Nihalani remained a director of real integrity, despite all odds. So when he announced he would make a commercial film that would still be a memorable cinematic experience, we believed him.

The Lie: Not only did Thakshak not live up to its promise of being a good movie, it’s not even a good earner. At least David Dhawan was courageous enough to put his FTII degree aside and churn out money-spinning, crowd-pleasing comedies. Bhansali threw out all the sophisticated airs of Khamoshi and went straight for the front row seats with Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam.

But what Nihalani has done is a true crime, even among crime movies! He created a strange beast, neither a good film nor good entertainment. The songs and the scenes are patched together and you can see the cellotape at the seams. The camerawork and the cliches clash like the wife and mistress in Biwi No 1. Ajay Devgan, the most commercial actor in the cast, turns in the most impressive low-key performance of the lot, while Rahul Bose comes off as a self-conscious actor.

The women -- the talented Tabu and newcomer Nethra -- have less to do than most heroes's mothers. The amount of rationalisation and justification in the bloated dialogues makes you wonder when the pravachan will end and the movie proceed. Nihalani should look at the earnings of Ardh Satya and Thakshak and compare them both. Adjusting the first's earnings for those days, I think he’ll find that it earned more returns-on-investment than this so-called 'commercial' film.

The Resolution: Remember that movie you were once planning to make with both Amitabh and Jaya Bachchan? Make it your next film. And your life’s mission. Yes, it will be hard getting the Big B to take time off from his other high-paying commitments but if you persist, you will get your dates. And Jaya is always willing to work with you.

If you can produce a script that does justice to these two great actors, think of what you could achieve. A really great film that will also work at the box office. It will work not because you’ll try to artificially 'commercialise' it like Thakshak, but because you will put your heart and soul into it the way you did for Ardh Satya. Take A R Rahman again as your music director and, this time, get the best out of him -- not the half-baked work he did for Thakshak. And use the combination of Nihalani, the Bachchans and Rahman to make a movie that stirs audiences as powerfully as it sets cash registers ringing.

Get the Big B out of your bonnet, Bachchan!

The Promise: When he took his five-year hiatus from films, he said it was because he was tired of doing the same old roles. He would return to films only if offered roles commensurate with his age. And good scripts.

When he launched ABCL, he said he would bring professionalism into the film industry. ABCL’s Star Track, he said, was his way of giving back something to the industry that had given him so much. When he was besieged with financial problems (as he still is), he said that there was nothing seriously wrong with ABCL and that the company would be back on its feet within six months.

The Lie: First of all, he took that break because he wanted to go to the US and set up a television production and broadcasting company. He had such high hopes for it, he even took on an NRI status. It was only when the company folded that he returned to India, and to Bollywood.

And even then, when he still had a real chance to demand and get the kind of roles and scripts he claimed to want, he took the easy way out by signing any and every B-grade project: Mehul Kumar’s disastrous Mrityudaata and Kohraam, K C Bokadia’s Lal Badshah, ABCL’s own (originally) Bade Miyan Chote Miyan and so on.

Why? Probably because he had just set up that huge ABCL deal and wanted to make the most money in the shortest time. There would be time later for quality cinema, he probably assumed. As for ABCL, the company was more obsessed with spending than earning from the very outset. Did he really believe that inflated salaries and non-industry executives could change the culture of a 100-year old industry overnight? The results speak for themselves.

Even with Star Track, far from giving something back to the industry, he took cash from thousands of applicants and, in the long run, was able to do nothing for the winners. Star Track discovery Anchal Kumar had to enter another contest -- the GladRags Mega Model Show -- and win that one through honest effort to really make her career take off!

Why, even Subhash Ghai’s similar drive to find new talent is seeking newcomers without charging them a rupee. As for ABCL, the sooner he writes off that disastrous chapter of his life and accepts his failure as a wannabe business tycoon, the sooner he’ll be able to concentrate on his real profession.

The Resolution: That his profession is, was, and has always been -- acting. As he himself has said a hundred times, he’s just a mediocre actor who got lucky. He might say it out of media modesty -- you don’t expect him to go around boasting he’s the greatest living legend in Hindi cinema, do you?

But the irony is: It’s true. AB is just a mediocre actor who got lucky. But his early years of struggle honed him into one of the toughest, most aggressive male stars of the century. That toughness and strength is what he needs to use again. Not to set up giant corporate castles in the air, but to simply act. In roles that use his talent to its fullest. Roles that redefine the parametres of successful commercial cinema in the same way that an offbeat cowboy thriller (Sholay) once did or a rehash of On The Waterfront (Deewar) or an angst-ridden young man’s struggle for justice did (his 'angry young man' movies).

His greatest hits were films that weren’t surefire hits until they became surefire hits. Be all you can be, Mr B. And the audiences will come. But remember, you’re older and wiser now. Act your age.