Commentary/Saisuresh Sivaswamy

Why does Amitabh Bachchan hate politics so now?

Even before the curtains went down on the first show of Amitabh Bachchan's Mrityudaata -- not his comeback film, as the megastar (oops, not one again) insisted on Star TV -- the film has been written off as a box-office dud. And the reasons could be many: not just the mediocre production values but also the image of an ageing man trying to prove to the world that the fire still burns in his belly; a hackneyed theme; and unimpressive performance.

But why did the superstar, who in the past had showed such business savvy, choose this film to be his comeback vehicle? Is it a coincidence that in this his film, he peppers the proceedings with a diatribe against politicians in particular, or does it reflect his state of mind as well?

The anger is there in this film as well, but it is the target that seems to be a little awry, unfortunately for Amitabh Bachchan.

In his earlier persona, of Hindi screen's first angry young man, Bachchan lived the part he played. The audiences knew of his own struggle to reach the top, how the doors were shut to him. So when they battle the system, they could easily identify with him for here also was a small-town hick who rose from the ranks in Bollywood (oops, another word that does not find favour with Bachchan).

So well did Bachchan merge into this role he was playing, that for the audience his was always the Robin Hood kind of image. The futility of breaking away from such a cast-iron image was seen in his film Alaap, that had Hindustani classical music as its theme.

The watershed in Amitabh Bachchan's life came with his decision to join politics, at his friend and then prime minister Rajiv Gandhi's insistence. The 1984 election from Allahabad saw the arrival of a new member of Parliament, one whose emotional ties with the city went back a long way. Was it his own charisma, or the Rajiv juggernaut, that swept him into Parliament, one would never know, for that was the last time he contested the elections.

His own disenchantment with the world of politics set in rapidly, possibly due to the backroom shenanigans of Vishwanath Pratap Singh for whom the Bachchan brothers became the symbol of all that was wrong in the polity. The clincher came with the star's explosive interview in a Sunday newspaper, in which referred to politics as cesspool.

Even that was a bolt from the past, for in film after film Bachchan had ranted against the cockroaches infesting the dirty sewers. Since Parliament at that time was dominated by northern presence, and presumably most members were avid fans of Bachchan's films, the reference hit the target. The situation would have been different under H D Deve Gowda and his peers, most of whom come from a region where Hindi is not spoken and Bachchan could have got away with it, but things were different then.

The outcome was that Bachchan was virtually forced into a corner by his opponents, who were past masters at the game. The star, in his defence, had only the prime minister, and even that position was growing shaky. His brief but volatile experience obviously left a deep impression on Bachchan, for it to burst out in anger so many years later in Mrityudaata.

But Bachchan's is a gambit that was bound to fail. If he felt that the timing of his anti-politician story was correct, then he has lost touch with reality in the years he has stayed out of Bollywood. Possibly there was hatred at one time, when the people knew that the rulers had their hand in the till, but that was also a time Bachchan would not have been able to say the kind of things he wanted to say, not with his friend being the prime suspect in people's minds. Today, more than hatred, there is a sense of betrayal among the masses over a tryst that was not kept, and Bachchan seems to have confused the two emotions.

Another reason why such an outburst from him won't wash with the audiences is his own dalliance with the world of politics.

When Amitabh played the angry young man raving against the system earlier, he carried sincerity; he was not perceived to have belonged to that system anytime in the past. It is not the same with him turning anti-politician, or, to would have been all right if he had not decided to help out his friend in 1984.

In other words, Amitabh's rage in the film is one of expiation. He has broken with the past long ago, and this film, he hopes, would tell the public that whatever happens he is no longer part of it all.

It was his friend Rajiv Gandhi who had said in the aftermath of the anti-Sikh pogrom in the wake of his mother's assassination in 1984, that "when a huge tree falls the earth is bound to tremble". Not only was it insensitive in the utmost, it also sums up the Bachchan saga after Mrityudaata. The Hindi film industry's hopes were riding on the film, and for to come out of the black hole successive flops had driven it into the blockbuster from the sultan of them all had to deliver. Unfortunately, not only has Bachchan let down his own fans but also the industry that made him what he is.

A comeback is tougher than a debut, Bachchan had admitted in a moment of rare candour the other day. All things considered, it cannot have been as bad for him on the other side of the divide as its is for us who are forced to watch a phenomenon fall to pieces. What the people expect is for the angry young man to grow gracefully, and the gap between his next venture should teach him how.

Tell us what you think of this column