Hindustan Times (Delhi)

The legends of a handsome hero and passionate filmmaker

- Poonam Saxena letters@hindustant­imes.com

Many legends died with Shashi Kapoor when he passed away in a Mumbai hospital on Monday.

He was the last of a generation of flamboyant and influentia­l Kapoors, the youngest of his brothers Raj and Shammi. He was the chubby, fierce little child star in Awara (1951); and the impossibly handsome young leading man of the early Sixties who could do a serious Partition film Dharamputr­a

(1961) and then four years later, a light romance like Jab Jab Phool Khile or the glamorous Waqt.

Later, he became one of the industry’s busiest stars in the 1970s, performing with a host of heroines (from Raakhee to Neetu Singh), doing so many shifts a day that his co-stars began calling him ‘Taxi.’

That was the time when he played foil to Amitabh Bachchan’s angry young man, a phase which peaked with Deewar (1975), where he got to say the immortal dialogue “Mere paas ma hai”.

Shashi Kapoor was probably India’s first true crossover star who had a lifelong associatio­n with the internatio­nal team of producer-director Ismail Merchant-david Ivory, starting with Householde­r in 1963 and continuing with six more films, including Shakespear­e Wallah, Bombay Talkie and the seductive, highly successful Heat And Dust (1983), where he played an elegant nawab.

Writer Ruth Prawer Jhabavala was a crucial collaborat­or in many of them. He worked with New York director Conrad Rooks in Siddhartha (1972), based on a Herman Hesse novel, which sparked off a controvers­y in India for its intimate scenes, but went on to become something of a cult film.

Shashi Kapoor was also the producer who put all the money he earned from his commercial films into intelligen­t cinema, whether it was the period drama Junoon (1978) or the dark tale of a modern-day Mahabharat­a, Kalyug (1981).

He directed only one film in his life, Ajooba (1991), a costume fantasy which flopped and plunged him into serious debt. And this was after he had been singed financiall­y because he produced the expensive period film Utsav (1984).

But all these movies proved something that had not been remarked upon often enough — that Shashi Kapoor was an exceptiona­l actor. In 1986, there was official proof — he got the National Award for Best Actor for his subtle, sensitive portrayal of a journalist in New Delhi Times.

Perhaps this was not so surprising for someone who, at age 15, had decided to drop out of school and join his father, the great Prithviraj Kapoor at his theatre company, where he worked from 1953 to 1960.

Prithvi Theatres led him to another theatre company, a turn of fate that was to impact Shashi Kapoor’s life forever.

He joined Shakespear­ana, run by an Englishman, Geoffrey Kendal, and fell in love with Geoffrey’s daughter Jennifer whom he married in 1958. But the pull of theatre never left him; in 1978, he built Prithvi Theatre and Jennifer managed it till her death in 1984.

Jennifer is also part of the Shashi Kapoor legend — the wife who managed his world, brought up his three children (sons Kunal and Karan and daughter Sanjana) away from the spotlight, acted in his films (36 Chowringhe­e Lane, Junoon).

The death of his wife left a void — Shashi Kapoor continued doing films till the late Nineties, but he started putting on weight and his health began deteriorat­ing.

In the last few years, although he could still be spotted in a wheelchair at Prithvi Theatre, he had all but retreated from public life.

He was awarded the Padma Bhushan in 2011, but by the time he got the Dadasaheb Phalke award in 2015, he was too ill to travel to Delhi to receive it.

With his death, all the different legends of Shashi Kapoor have come together — the handsome hero with the crooked smile serenading his heroine in the Kashmir valley, the busy and successful actor of the Seventies, the polished internatio­nal star, the passionate film-lover who made movies he believed in even when he had no money, the son who built a theatre in memory of his father, the affable man who often introduced himself as “I’m Shashi Kapoor,” the seasoned actor — and probably the star with the most charming screen presence in the history of Hindi cinema.

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 ?? HT FILE ?? He was probably India’s first true crossover star.
HT FILE He was probably India’s first true crossover star.

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