Rediscover yourself at 75 like Mr Bachchan
He’s been around for longer than his contemporaries and he’s still right on top of the pecking order. Hats off, Mr B
In Hindi cinema’s social calendar, October 11 is no ordinary date. It is a day when — amid reams of listicles and slice-of-life pieces on ‘India’s greatest superstar’ — a fan of Hindi cinema re-examines his relationship with Amitabh Bachchan. Of course, it helps that it happens to be his birth anniversary. This week, he turned 75. Once again, debates abounded on his finest performances — was it Deewaar or Kala Patthar? — with no consensus being reached (clearly, a vote of confidence for the actor’s robust body of work). Again, that contentious question was pondered over — is he the greatest actor India has ever produced? Perhaps. Perhaps not. No matter which side of the argument you’re on, it’s hard to disagree that an Amitabh Bachchan film is a rite of passage for anyone who — even remotely — follows Indian cinema.
From putting him on a pedestal as the Angry Young Man to bringing him down from it following the failure of some of his later films and then placing him back firmly in the league of extraordinary gentlemen in Hindi cinema, the nature of relationship Indian fans share with Bachchan has undergone a change over the past five decades. What is it about this relationship that has stood the test of time?
Keeping the nitty gritties aside, the timeline of mainstream Hindi cinema is divided into neat categories characterised by the emergence of the triumvirate of Dilip Kumar, Raj Kapoor and Dev Anand, followed by the rise of Rajesh Khanna in late 60s. As diverse as each of their craft has been, a sense of romanticism was central to the men they embodied on the big screen. Bachchan’s arrival as the Angry Young Man thwarted this romanticism. A line of argument makes a case for the seeds of this image being sown in some of filmmaker Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s humanist dramas Bachchan was part of early in his career, namely Anand (1971) and Namak Haraam (1973). The protagonist in these films was not an alpha male, but a fallible everyman. Film critic and author of The World of Hrishikesh Mukherjee Jai Arjun Singh argues, “Mukherjee’s interest was in quiet, humanist stories — not in the mythical films... I’d say that there is hardly any hyper-masculinity in some of Bachchan’s best mainstream roles (for example, Amar Akbar Anthony (1977), or comedies like Do Aur Do Paanch (1980), while in a Mukherjee film like Abhimaan (1973), one sees a more subdued form of hyper-masculinity (a man distraught about having to play second fiddle to his wife).”
The 70s were socially turbulent times. It was the decade when Emergency was declared by then Prime Minister of India Indira Gandhi. On the other hand, labour unrest was at its peak and price rise a major cause of concern. Enter Bachchan, breathing life into characters that were on the periphery, much like the Indian middle class itself. In him, they found a star who mouthed their exasperations. As Susmita Dasgupta, who has penned Amitabh Bachchan: Making of a Superstar and is working on a new book on the star titled Amitabh Bachchan: Reflections on an Image, points out, “The cinema before Amitabh had stars who would pursue rather ‘normal’ goals. In case of Amitabh Bachchan, the star got to choose his own goals. Though he still worked hard to make the mother happy and send brother to school and to avenge the wrong done unto his father, his major goal became the critique of the macro forces — the state, the institutions, and even God and the Divine order. The nature of these goals was to question the external order and such critique had the effect of setting him as a more autonomous individual. In short, stars usually play within the society; Amitabh, as a star, could create that very world within which the society was set and its goals created.”
One film after the other — Zanjeer (1973), Deewaar (1975), Sholay (1975) (“The writers Salim-Javed reflected the mood of the nation when they created the characters that Amitabh played to perfection. The people were fed up of the authoritarianism they were experiencing, and the Angry Young Man perfectly typified that mood,” says Indian Express film critic and author of 50 Films That Changed Bollywood Shubhra Gupta) — cemented his position as a superstar. The audiences would laugh, sob and even grow angry with him. Little wonder then when, in 1982, he was critically injured while shooting for Coolie, the incident evoked national hysteria.
Success brings with it a sense of invincibility. Was it bad judgement or plain hubris that informed his decision to star in films, such as Ajooba (1991) and Jaadugar (1989)? “Until Shahenshah (1988), he was holding on to the stardom he had created for himself. But then somewhere, the choices he made didn’t do justice to his talent. Films like Ajooba and Jaadugar were simply bad choices. To add to that, he took the misstep of entering politics. He wasn’t cut out for it, and that’s when the audiences began to grow apart,” says Shubhra Gupta.
His inability to make an impact as a politician, coupled with the fact that his name was dragged in the Bofors scandal were indicators that difficult times were ahead. Susmita Dasgupta, who did her PhD thesis on the actor, says this episode stunned Amitabh because he was vilified by those very people who, he thought, were his ardent fans. “It was as if overnight Amitabh transformed into the greatest villain on earth from being its most revered hero. This shock made him suspect his fans and yet look out for those who still supported him.” She adds that the incident may have also led him to change gears and pursue a different genre of cinema. “Films like Agneepath, Shahenshah, Akayla and others in which he represented an ageing, misunderstood, wronged person. The Bofors accusations made him want to remain in control of the media and the cinema, which led to the formation of his ill-fated company, the ABCL. Post-Bofors, Amitabh also understood that he was vulnerable to political vendetta and began looking for support from politicians beyond the Congress.”
Today, the sum total of all these experiences is a man who, admittedly, measures his words. “He stays clear of politics, cultivating politicians for his own gains, never taking political sides and never indulging in making ideological statements. Besides, he seems to have developed a pragmatic approach in which his principle aim is to protect his wealth, and for that, he may compromise and even forgo his political ideology to any extent,” Dasgupta adds.
Today, the actor has meticulously mastered the language of young India. Be it his social media footprint (at 30 million, it is one of the largest among top Bollywood stars) or roles of substance such as the one of a septuagenarian lawyer fighting for the rights of three harassed women in Pink or a father endorsing his daughter’s sexual independence in Piku, Bachchan is, once again, speaking to his audiences and mouthing their exasperations. At 75, this is no child’s play, unless, of course, you are Amitabh Bachchan!
He stays clear of politics, cultivating politicians for his own gains, never taking political sides and never indulging in making ideological statements. Susmita Dasgupta, author