‘Hawa Hawai’ GONE WITH THE WIND
Sridevi came into Bollywood at a time when there were no battalions of managers, publicists and stylists surrounding a star. And the film press was not as adulatory as it is today. She was not fluent in English and spoke very little Hindi; so in the initial days, her answer to most queries used to be: “Ask Mummy.” It was a trend with South Indian actresses to have their mothers on the sets at all times, so much so that it had become a subject of parody.
Her first Hindi film may have been Julie, in the small role of the leading lady Laxmi’s sister, and she did get a lot of appreciation for her acting in Sadma, but it was the success of Himmatwala that made her a star in the rest of India — she was already one in the South.
Seen by today’s standards, her costumes were garish, and her voluptuous figure earned her the nickname of thunder thighs. Her baby voice was dubbed by Naaz for this and many other films. Himmatwala had her playing a whip-wielding virago tamed by the hero Jeetendra. It was loud and kitschy with songs like “Ladki nahi hai to ladki ka khamba hai, bak bak mat kar naak tera lamba hai.” She admitted she had no idea what the songs meant, but danced with grace to the Bappi Lahiri tunes, and showed no visible discomfort at the ridiculous scenes she had to do.
Her directors found her professional, malleable and amazingly intuitive. She could, they said, switch on and switch off emotions
with ease and always give the right expressions.
In the South films, she overplayed like the directors asked her to, and in Hindi films, she was as subtle as demanded. She was a fabulous dancer, and it was cute to see her imitate perfectly the movement and expressions Saroj Khan came up with, and even when she did an overtly sexy, wet sari number Kate nahin kat te yeh
din yeh raat in Mr India, there was no outrage, because she managed to dance without an iota of vulgarity. She always wore an invisible cloak of dignity and had a kind of aloofness around her that did not allow any over familiarity.
It is an indication of her determination that she became refined, able to speak Hindi and English fluently and give intelligent and cogent interviews — the few that she did deign to do. It is not as if there was no gossip around her, but nothing seemed to sully her air of innocence or cause even a hint of bitterness or jadedness in her large eyes; the eyes that she used to great effect in her performances — and she was equally adept at drama as she was effortless in comedy. Her directors and co-stars
Her directors and co-stars were in awe of her formidable talent that she wore lightly. She may not have been able to discuss her roles with an intellectual bent, and some of the films she did would have made today’s politically correct audiences cringe, but she was utterly professional.
were in awe of her formidable talent that she wore lightly. She may not have been able to discuss her roles with an intellectual bent, and some of the films she did would have made today’s politically correct audiences cringe, but she was utterly professional.
Sridevi learnt on the job, entering the film industry as she did at the age of four, in the role of Lord Muruga in the film Thunaivan. She was thrust into leading lady roles quite early and did films in all the Southern languages. When she came into Bollywood in the early 80s, she did a flurry of remakes like Mawali, Inquilaab and Tohfa — it was the period when the Southern industry was ruling Bollywood, and Jeetendra was her most frequent co-star. In Tamil, of course, she did several films with Kamal Haasan and Rajnikanth. Her chief rival at that time was supposed to be Jaya Pradha, and the media played on their supposed cold vibes.
Apart from Mr India, it was Yash Chopra’s Chandni and later Lamhe that turned her into a proper Bollywood heroine, with all traces of the South erased from her on screen persona. She did films with actors like Amitabh Bachchan, Rishi Kapoor, Mithun Chakraborty, Anil Kapoor and soon became Hindi cinema’s highest paid female star, who added value to every film she did. She had already won every film award that could be won for films in multiple languages, as well as a Padma Shri.
After Judaai in 1997 she took break from acting and married the already married Boney Kapoor, amidst tabloid scandal. She briefly returned with a TV serial, Malini Iyer, and then made a fabulous comeback in the nonglamorous role of a simple housewife in English Vinglish (2012), following it up with Mom in 2017.
She was looking at scripts for herself, having proved that even at 50 plus she was a diva, but was more excited about her daughter Jahnvi’s debut in Dhadak. It a pity that she did not live to see her on screen. Her untimely death in the prime of her life has left her legions of fans shocked and distressed. The Indian film industry will never a combination of beauty, grace and all round talent again like hers —Sridevi was unique.