Superstar for ever EYE CULTURE
The thing about great icons is that we are witness to their greatness so often that the truly landmark moments in their life can seem like a mere addition to, rather than a pause for reflection in, their journey. So I felt this week, as the world celebrated Amitabh Bachchan’s 75th birthday and all of us revisited stories about this eternal superstar.
Bachchan is that rare actor whose longevity has ensured that many generations of film-goers feel that he speaks to them in a way that other actors, superstars in their own right, do not. Shah Rukh Khan is lover boy to those who came of age in the 1990s. Salman Khan is “bhai” to the masses. Among the current crop, Aamir Khan perhaps comes closest to Bachchan’s penchant for constant reinvention, as his recent films, one better than the next, attest.
But Bachchan has been at it for far longer, and has succeeded in many different onscreen avatars. From the angry young man who brought his raw energy and charismatic chutzpah to the screen in his early days to now, when he is the film industry’s elderly statesman, regal but not immune to playfulness, Bachchan has achieved what other actors, in India or elsewhere, only dream of.
Look, for example, to his current role as the host of Kaun Banega Crorepati. Bachchan first hosted the show in 2000, yet it has lost none of the vitality of his presence even in its ninth season. On Wednesday’s episode, the show ran a clip of students from Sherwood College, Nainital, Bachchan’s alma mater, wishing the actor a happy birthday. This left Bachchan teary-eyed.
It was the sort of spontaneous gesture that we have come to expect from him, yet it was not sentimental or mawkish. He has this remarkable knack for discriminating moments when he needs to be discreet from those when he can let go. But this fact does not detract from his sincerity. Even when he sheds tears, Bachchan retains an aura that unmistakably adds to his stature, as if he possessed this superhuman ability to pull our heartstrings at will.
It is this claim to veracity that makes us return to watching him again and again. Also running currently is the eleventh season of another reality show, Bigg Boss, hosted by Salman Khan. Khan’s role on the show, which he has hosted over the last few seasons, switches from poking good-natured fun at the contestants to disciplining them when they cross a line. But even with all his earnestness, Khan cannot shed the impression that he would rather be somewhere else doing something worth his while. Bachchan, on the other hand, remakes wherever he goes and whatever he does in his own image.
His presentation and delivery on KBC, while remaining characteristically suave, has undergone shifts over the years. In this season, utilising the inputs given to him, he engages with the contestants more deeply, discussing their dreams and hopes, their quirks and passions, at a pace that is out of place on prime-time TV. Yet, none of it feels staged. Bachchan can make the person sitting opposite him feel as if they were the centre of his universe. The more impressive thing is that the audience feels this too.
In spite of his outsize success, Bachchan has never been seen as an arrogant superstar. This has much to do with his humility, which to be sure, can grate sometimes for its excessiveness. But it is also a function of our intimate knowledge of his life, his family history, his struggles in Bombay. From the life-threatening injury he sustained on the sets of Coolie to his financial struggles in the wake of the ABCL debacle, Bachchan’s troubles and tribulations are distinctly relatable, even when they have played out in the public eye and on a scale few of us can imagine.
It is a measure of our love for him that we don’t tire of seeing him, despite the fact that he is everywhere: In advertisements (too many to count), on TV and in films. Not all his choices work, but when they do, as in Piku or Pink, Bachchan is the chord that binds the film. Be it a constipated father or a seething lawyer, there is something quintessentially recognisable — a mix of his own persona and his ability to dissolve into the character — in his roles.
A teetotaller, Bachchan remains in good shape and keeps far busier than actors many years his junior. Even so, the question of his longevity is inextricably tied to his advancing age. Somehow, though, even seventy-five does not seem that old in his case. Whether it is the naughty glint in his eye or the booming laughter with which he acknowledges contestants on his show, Bachchan has more than enough equipment in his arsenal to keep us hooked.