Showing posts with label Hindi movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hindi movies. Show all posts

Monday, 18 March 2019

Working class heroes: Apna Time Aaa Gaya


Working class heroes have quietly carved a few sweet spots in the Bollywood box office. Actors like Ayushmann Khurrana and Rajkumar Rao with their boy next paan shop looks and non-filmy backgrounds have succeeded in becoming ‘bankable’ with their movies turning out to be money spinners.

In their movies they hold regular middle-class jobs - a private company executive or a government bureaucrat and move around in two-wheelers or not so fancy hatchbacks like a Wagon R or a Santro and live in very middle-class colonies and apartments. Their love lives also would be far from perfect and sometimes even their love interests need not have ‘heroine’ looks as in Dum Laga Ke Haisha.

However, both Ayushmann and Rajkumar partly owe their success to Amol Palekar, probably the first working class hero with a middle-class background in Bollywood. It was Amol Palekar, who in association with director Basu Bhattacharjee and Hrishikesh Mukherjee painstakingly carved a niche for such characters in the 1970s, when larger than life heroes held a vice-like grip over Bollywood box office.

During my childhood days in the 70s heroes were six-footers with drop-dead looks, while heroines dazzled us with their flawless skin and even more flawless aadarsh Bharatiya naari character, someone above all forms of suspicion.

Those movies were three-hour long dramas with highly formulaic plots, laden with distinctly black and white characters and copious running-round-the-trees duets. Needless to say, our young impressionable minds easily got hooked to it.

Along came Amol Palekar with his aam aadmi demeanour harried about the challenges of life. Back then it seemed sacrilegious to us that a hero could go about the whole movie without even getting involved in a single fisticuff; not court his lady love in fancy cars, but BEST buses and local trains; drive a rickety Lambretta scooter or Standard Herald car. No Impala or Ford Mustang car chases, no horse riding ... tsk tsk, how can he be a hero!! We wondered.

After some initial tut-tutting people started warming up to him thinking that cinema need not always be an escape from reality, a little dose of realism with a pleasant middle-class setting as a prop was welcome.

Then came guys like Naseeruddin Shah and Om Puri, and it led to further unlearning of our concept of heroes. They came with hard as nails reality and provided a peek into life in lower middle class and slum localities. It took a lot of time for people to appreciate their style of acting.

Their legacy was carried forward by the likes of Manoj Bajpai and now by Nawazuddin Siddiqui. However, though this particular category enjoys greater critical acclaim, its bankability in the box office is low.



Tuesday, 5 August 2014

Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna



Coming from a generation that grew up listening to his extremely hummable songs on AIR's Vividh Bharti and Sri Lanka Broadcasting Corporation, seeing a Google doodle paying tribute to the master of yodel Kishore Kumar, on his 85th birth anniversary, was the ultimate compliment. It only shows that his appeal has transcended many generations - from the era of 35 RPM LP records to 35 GB USB drives, via cassettes and compact discs.

Radio stations and TV channels had built up a hype over his 85th birth anniversary. But for millions of Indians  Kishore Kumar's songs were anyway everyday happenings, they were meant to be hummed while taking baths, shaving or listened to in their I-pods or car stereos. Only their favorites varied - for some it was his racy numbers like Bachna ai haseeno or Om Shanti Om, to others it was a sad numbers like Chingari Koi badke or Koi hamdam na raha,  while for others it was the middling melodious romantic numbers like Pyaar maanga hai tumhi se or Ek ajnabi haseena se. To each his own such was Kishore Da's range.

His rise coincided with the rise of Rajesh Khanna, for whom he lent his voice in many films and later did so for Amitabh Bachchan and many other stars before dying at a relatively young age of 59. Interestingly some of his hit songs figured in movies that did not do well in box office. But thanks to the popularity of the song they are still in great demand in YouTube and other song downloading platforms. While watching those songs one felt the director or producer had let Kishore da down by selecting a poor star cast or a story line leading to poor show at box office.

Also Read: Bangalore Beat

Tuesday, 26 June 2012

Twilight Of a Superstar

The recent TV images of a frail looking yesteryear's superstar Rajesh Khanna standing at the balcony of his bungalow suddenly brought to me a realisation about the passage of an era (or is it light years). The gaunt figure gave the impression that he did not age gracefully like say Amitabh Bachchan or Dharmendra. He looked much older than 69.

When I was old enough to watch movies in mid 1970s, Rajesh Khanna was losing ground to Amitabh Bachchan. Kakaji's (as he is known) romanticism suddenly went out of fashion and was soon replaced by the Bachchan's angry young man persona and Zanjeer was the trend setter.

Later on Big B's stranglehold over the box office became all encompassing. It soon became cool to be lanky and have hair long enough to cover one's ears. Don't know how exactly that hairstyle originated, but in India it became a rage, thanks to Bachchan. From taxi, auto drivers to engineering and medical students, all were painstakingly growing their tresses long enough to flow over their ears. For all other Indian actors of that era, irrespective of language, it became a basic requirement to appear cool. The clippers, a mandatory tool in the armoury of barbers, soon started losing favour among the younger clientele. It gave way to accessories like hair dryer and roller brushes.

Coming back to Rajesh Khanna, my admiration for him was more of a retrospective one. I began appreciating him only after I grew up and by then Khanna was many years away from his arc lights days. I remember watching Amar Prem as a child and found it 'boring' as there were no 'fights' or 'comedy' scenes! And, of course, I was too small to understand what terms like 'baazari aurat' actually meant! 

However, some of the lilting numbers from his movies, especially Aradhana, Kati Patang appealed to me even then. The moment I used to hear these songs from my neighbour's radio, I too used to switch ours on and try to tune in to the Vividh Bharti or Sri Lanka Broadcasting Corporation, the mainstays of Hindi music back then.

That of course was also the result of a symbiotic relationship Rajesh Khanna shared with Kishore Kumar. Both then were contemporaries and struggling to make their mark.

After the dawn of television era, I got a chance to watch the movies of his heydays on Doordarshan on Sundays and really began to appreciate them. I then realised why movies like Anand, Amar Prem were superhits. And felt his abrupt end to superstardom was quite unfortunate; though critics and film historians bemoan that success had gone into Kakaji's head. He had acquired starry airs and was dismissive of junior artists like Amitabh Bachchan. So, they felt his downfall was some sort of a poetic justice.

He had 15 consecutive solo superhits between 1969 and 1972 under his belt, which was quite unprecedented back then and is still considered a record. And fans (especially female ones) went to insane lengths to adore the country's most eligible bachelor (he married Dimple Kapadia only in 1973).

After that golden era, success at box office became rare and more modest. Among those lean periods I remember watching Thodi si Bewafai and later Avataar (that was ages before James Cameron's 3D offering), which were fairly successful at the box office. On the personal front too he had a rough ride. He got estranged with his wife Dimple and later on had a relationship with  Tina Munim, with whom he paired up for moderately successful Souten. She later went on to marry Reliance scion Anil Ambani.

His entry to politics virtually put an end to his film career. While going through a Wikipedia entry on him I was surprised to know that he had even acted in a couple of TV serials. Anyhow since I am not much of a serial guy, so totally missed out on all that.

Nearly a month back I saw him figure in a TV ad for Havells fan, where he points to a roomful ceiling and table fans and says these 'fans' will be with him forever. It made me cringe and wondered how Rajesh Khanna could agree for such an inane advertisement. What left me even more stunned was the fact that the ad was done by famous film maker and ad personality R Balki, who made movies like Cheeni Kum.

However coming back to the recent TV grab, it was heartening to see some young people had gathered before his house on hearing that he was indisposed. Probably DVDs, YouTube videos are keeping the movies of his heydays alive in memory of his fans. And Kakaji, please be assured that you needn't count upon lifeless ceiling and table fans for support!