Болливуд – хинди-аналог Голливуда. Так обычно называют киностудии Мумбая, в прошлом Бомбея. Это не единственная ветвь индийского кино: есть еще Толливуд, Колливуд и другие студии, снимающие фильмы на региональных языках. Но самые яркие краски, самые известные актеры и самые кассовые сборы – это, конечно, Болливуд. Киновед Алексей Васильев взялся рассказать для Qalam бесконечную историю Болливуда, выбрав для каждой эпохи свою эмоцию и наиболее знакового героя-актера.
In the title of this concluding chapter on the history of Bollywood, pay especial attention to the dates. The reigns of the former movie idols varied from four to ten years.
A 31-year span is undeniably impressive. Taking into account that Shah Rukh Khan rose to the Bollywood throne effortlessly – his very first film, aptly titled "Deewana" (1992), secured the second position in the year's list of box office hits and earned our hero the Filmfare Award for Best Actor in a Debut Role. Following this, records, including absolute ones, and Filmfare Awards in all conceivable categories (Actor of the Year, Best Villain, Critics' Choice) flowed uninterruptedly for four consecutive years – it becomes abundantly clear: this contemporary figure has become a phenomenon of unprecedented cinematic dominance.
Of course, films featuring Dilip Kumar were still breaking records even in the early 1980s. And it was Rajesh Khanna who played the iconic role of the disco dancer's uncle, teaching him songs and dances at the same time. Nobody is taking the throne away from Amitabh Bachchan, who remains an active patriarch of Bollywood to this day. But for all these actors and others, a period of success was followed by a series of failures and brief comebacks, culminating in their complete withdrawal from the screen. Afterward, they embraced their age, redefined themselves, and returned armed with silver hair and indisputable authority, in the roles of fathers and grandfathers.
Shah Rukh Khan is the only one who has maintained the status of the lover-hero for 31 years. Yes, in his most recent action film, "Pathaan" (2023), the 57-year-old actor starts with a complaint: "I have a metal plate in my leg, a titanium disc in my neck, and bio-absorbable screws in my shoulder. It's tough. My body beeps every time I go through airport security," almost ironically echoing his long-standing presence as the village's foremost lover-boy. However, after a warning not to judge him harshly, he spends two and a half hours climbing the steep walls of Moscow skyscrapers, racing on the roof of a moving train set to take him to the freezing cold of Siberian, alongside his contemporary Salman Khan. Shah Rukh Khan energetically dances with Bombay's Vera Brezhneva, Deepika Padukone, who won an Oscar this year for Best Song and portrays his love for her with the touching vulnerability of a 16-year-old boy afraid of rejection. Yet when he takes off his shirt, the audience gasps, just as they did when they witnessed a similar scene starring Brad Pitt in a recent Tarantino film. Despite all of Shah Rukh Khan's prosthetics, the film grossed $130 million, recovering its budget four and a half times and becoming the second-highest-grossing film in the history of Bollywood.
His face isn't one that makes people fall to their knees. In his youth, he sported a thick crown of hair resembling the fur hats popular among women in the 1960s and 1970s. However, underneath that crown was a hooked nose. His lips could make time stand still - the actor himself, when asked about his favorite things in the world, ranked lips at the very top, right after rain. However, when he bares his teeth, he does occasionally resembles a cartoon rodent.
Moreover, he entered the scene when the more charming Aamir and the more physically fit Salman Khan had already made their marks in the era of young lovers. Saif Ali Khan was on the horizon, inheriting the royal beauty of his mother, Sharmila Tagore, and creating the image of a metrosexual in yellow spherical Gucci sunglasses and graffiti-covered Roberto Cavalli vests. At the entrance to the Millennium, Shah Rukh Khan even had to hold his own against the relentless competition of Hrithik Roshan, who was ten years younger than the rest, had the shoulders of a discus thrower, and the waist of a willow. Danny Boyle once dubbed him the "best dancer since Michael Jackson."
All the actors listed above constitute the current pantheon, with the possible addition of John Abraham in the mid-2000s, who so effortlessly turned exhibitionism into an honest form of public entertainment that the audience accepted him as their advocate, reassuring them that there was nothing indecent about their sexual fantasies involving actors. So, there are perhaps seven superheroes today, including the martial arts master Akshay Kumar mentioned in the previous chapter. Year after year, they take turns at the very top, always coming back. Nevertheless, Shah Rukh Khan's star shines brighter, he is loved more deeply, and his place is in the warmest corner of the hearts of the Indian audience. That special corner was warmed and nurtured by the romantic dreams of Bombay cinema.
Shahrukh became the first and only actor who played a guy from the audience in the sense that his characters are shaped by that desire for unconditional, uncompromising, and insane love, as in his first film title, which emanates from the local screen. The love of his characters was born long before the object of their affection appeared in his life: he saw it in the movies during his childhood. He portrayed a guy who thirsts for that very love he saw in the movies, and when he leaves the theater, he experiences it fully, even if reality doesn't provide him with the prerequisites. He became a kind of postmodernist actor of Bollywood, but a gentle one. He spoke simply, communicating with the audience in the language of the performance clichés of masala cinema. With warmth and sympathy, he depicted guys who imitated the antics of movie heroes and were willing to recreate all those sweet absurdities in real life that their heroes depicted on screen.
Of course, it was precisely this actor, this hero, who became the most familiar and long-awaited for young people, for whom the cinema hall is often the only place where they live that life and experience those feelings that bring them happiness.
His triumph is even more remarkable when considering that in his early hits, neither he nor the authors concealed the pathological underpinnings of his blinded characters. It's no coincidence that he received an award for Best Villain for his role in "Anjaam" (1994).
However, his role in "Baazigar" (1993) earned him a "Filmfare" award for Best Actor, even though the film closely followed the plot of Ira Levin's thriller "A Kiss Before Dying" (1952) - and those who have read this unparalleled example of crime literature understand how amoral and cruel the character in question is. Shah Rukh portrayed him as a blinded man - and the audience accepted such a character. It's reminiscent of how Western audiences in the early 1960s embraced Alain Delon in the role of the unscrupulous Tom Ripley.
How this worked during that period is vividly illustrated by a scene from the movie "Darr" (1993). In this film, directed by Yash Chopra, Shah Rukh plays a stalker who relentlessly pursues a beauty who has just gotten married. In his lair, he projects slides of her photos all day long and calls his mother, telling her that he has met the girl of his dreams and asking for her blessing on their union. Upon overhearing one of his phone conversations, the hero's father goes straight to a psychiatrist and reveals that Shah Rukh's mother died in a car accident 18 years ago (with the father at the wheel), and since then, the boy has had few friends and has grown up in his own fantasy world, engrossed in autistic games. "Your son has serious problems, and this is not the worst of them!" exclaims the psychiatrist. And right at that moment, as if to counterbalance the tense conversation, without any musical introduction, Shah Rukh's voice, filled with an uncontrollable smile that spreads from the depths of his throat, as when we survey the world from a mountain peak or see the sea after a long separation, bursts out with "Jadu Teri Nazar!" - "Magic in your gaze!" - a tune that makes you want to shout it while driving on a serpentine road in a Latin arrangement. Meanwhile, the actor playfully applies a thick layer of lipstick to the woman he is pursuing on the projected slide. Involuntary laughter bursts forth from the young audience at this sudden editing cut; while the adults are filled with anxiety, Shah Rukh plays and sings this beautiful childlike "So what!"
It's worth mentioning that during those years in Bombay cinema, a whole array of young composers emerged who began to create songs that were instantly memorable, easy to reproduce, and belonged to the category that can be belted out at high noon while rolling through rural landscapes on a hay-laden cart, a blade of grass between the teeth, gazing at the spectacle of clouds in the blue sky. This was Shah Rukh's typical accompaniment, which did little to boost his popularity but primarily explained that his characters were experiencing such a meteor shower in their souls that any arguments of "can or can't, good or bad, truth or deception" became laughable. When you feel this way, there are only two options: fall in love or get drunk, or both at the same time - which is exactly what his most famous characters from "Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge" (1995) or "Kal Ho Naa Ho" (2003) do. It's only by the time of "Kal Ho Naa Ho," when Kylie Minogue ruled the dance floors, redefining the concept of a disco diva, and Latin rhythms were added to the arrangements of Shah Rukh's songs, along with a disco beat and rich string passages, that heads started spinning irreversibly.
The music of Annu Malik or the Jatin-Lalit duo played a significant role in shaping Shah Rukh's image. However, they weren't the individuals we had in mind when we mentioned in the previous chapter that in 1991, two people emerged on the Bollywood scene who would eventually propel it to great heights, albeit not in the roles they initially intended.
One of these individuals was Shah Rukh himself. During those years, he was trying to obtain a master's degree in film production at the National Institute of Mass Communication. To support himself financially, he began acting in early Indian television serials without any serious aspirations toward a career in the film industry. He ended up getting expelled from the institute due to poor attendance, with the serials consuming a significant amount of his time. Even during his college years, he was known for his inquisitive nature as a student and his penchant for skipping classes. Nevertheless, he would later master the art of filmmaking, albeit on actual movie sets. He began by observing how he was filmed and, subsequently, invested his time and resources, often at great personal expense, in the early films produced by his own production company, established in the late 1990s. His breakthrough came when, at the beginning of the 21st century, he transformed the company into Red Chillies Entertainment. This move marked a turning point, as it became India's first studio not only to produce its own films but also to provide computer graphics services. This era gave rise to franchises based on movies like "Krrish" (inspired by Lord of the Rings 1*), "Dhoom" (inspired by "The Fast and the Furious"), and "Ek Tha Tiger" (inspired by "Mission: Impossible"). Shah Rukh himself didn't appear in these franchises until "Pathan," which can be seen as a sequel or, more precisely, a new dimension within the spy universe of "Tiger." Nevertheless, the world of his infatuated, "madly in love" characters opened up unparalleled vistas of imagination, drawing from the fantasies of Bombay cinema but venturing into uncharted territory.
As for the second person who contributed to the Bollywood boom, she worked as an assistant director in 1991. Her role involved ensuring that the heroes' hairstyles, costumes, and makeup remained consistent within a single episode. Her name was Farah Khan. It so happened that during the shooting of another film where she was operating the clapperboard - "Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar" (1992) with Aamir Khan - the renowned choreographer, often referred to as the "creator of Jeetendra," Saroj Khan, left the production amidst a scandal, storming out of the project.
There was no time to search for a replacement, and Farah happened to be a dance class organizer at a Bombay college. She was also a devoted fan of Nazir Hussein's films, who was the father of the director of "Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar." Farah knew the intricate musical sequences from his films by heart. Consequently, she was entrusted with choreographing the missing dance sequence.
Everything was set for filming in the picturesque town of Utii, where Aamir, amidst mountains and lakes, was expected to chase after a girl while singing "Pehla Nasha" (The First Intoxication). However, Farah had a different perspective. She pondered, "What does the song's message convey? The first intoxication, the first euphoria... Does the world around us change when we fall in love? It remains the same – it's our perception that changes, yet it remains imperceptible to others." Consequently, Farah abandoned the traditional dance routine and choreographed an entire sequence instead. As Aamir sang and danced, he roamed around a classroom, intently focused on an exam paper. He sang, but his classmates were oblivious to him, and the teacher wasn't distracted either. To them, he simply didn't exist with his song; his soul sang it, while the world was engrossed in college admissions. Aamir grabbed some sheets from the desks, and they soared into the air – all while the students continued writing attentively. These pages then landed on the desk of another classroom, where a girl Aamir had been dreaming about was seated. The director was so appreciative of Farah's contribution to the film that he created a unique credit for her: "choreographer-director" (instead of the usual generic “dances” credit), and that title continues to be used in Bombay cinema to this day.
Previously, the enamored heroes sang and danced genuinely. Farah conceived the idea of relocating the musical number into the realm where it truly belonged - the world of imagination. Simultaneously, it became the realm of love and Bombay's dream factory. This was a revolution that brought Bombay cinema into focus. It stopped fabricating and returned imagination to its roots.
The meeting of Farah and Shah Rukh didn't take long. In the following year, she was devising musical sequences for him in "Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa" (1994). The character in this film was quintessentially Shah Rukh - he preferred school orchestra rehearsals to classroom studies and was markedly different from his characters, who held every one, even those who didn't belong to them, in a vice grip. This character, in the end, loses his love with a smile, perhaps endearing him to film critics who rewarded him with their "Filmfare" awards for such subtlety.
Fara devised Shahrukh's iconic pose when he performed a song, standing with his back to the camera, slightly arching his back, turning three-quarters toward the audience, and extending his hand to them. More importantly, this marked the meeting of two individuals who shared an equal understanding that cinema explores the realm of imagination, and that the potential audience's imaginative world is shaped by cinematic images.
Even during his school days, Shahrukh was renowned for his parodies of movie stars, particularly excelling at impersonating Raj Kapoor and the villain Gabbar Singh from "Sholay." According to his own recollections, he spent hours in front of the mirror practicing Mumtaz's dance moves.
Fara, on the other hand, was the daughter of a bankrupt producer who harbored a strong dislike for the world of cinema. Yet, while disappearing into the movie theaters, she found solace in the forbidden realm of joy. Together, they embarked on creating films that depicted people just as they are, and that's what gave cinema its meaning for them.
However, that's a story for the near future. For now, the minimum task was to transplant the musical number, the love song, into the world of dreams. The breakthrough film that marked the beginning of Bollywood's Silver Age, postmodernism, and paved the way for the Bollywood boom, was "Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge" (1995). It tells the story of two London students who, after taking turns getting drunk during a trip to Switzerland and dragging each other to haystacks, realize upon their return that they can't live without each other. Kajol played the girl with the thousand-carat eyes but adamantly refused to pluck her bushy eyebrows or lose weight (long before the body positivity movement). Costume designer Manish Malhotra, whose collections would be snapped up by Michael Jackson and Naomi Campbell just seven years later, struggled to fit Kajol into a tiny red dress. However, her reluctance to diet gave birth to one of the film's iconic moments. Her character, having consumed a bottle of Hennessy overnight in the hayloft and performing the song "Zara Sa Jhoom Loon Main" - "What if I twirl?"—smashes a shop window with a cobblestone in a Swiss town to steal a dress that she clearly can't fit into. She then hops around like an elephant in this red mini dress in front of a startled Shah Rukh on a mountain slope (an act that, in turn, prompts Shah Rukh to down a bottle of whiskey).
A year prior to this, the movie "Hum Aapke Hain Koun..!" (1994) with Salman Khan became the first film in 19 years to surpass the earnings of "Sholay."
The love for "Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge" (DDLJ) would be even more phenomenal. Its soundtrack became the highest-grossing in history and indeed worked wonders: even today, if you were to wake me up in the middle of the night, I could sing any of the seven songs featured in the film. Structurally, the heart of the movie is the musical sequence where Shah Rukh and Kajol part ways at the train station - he will drive to London, and she will take the train. They both start singing a song: "I don't know what happened to my heart: it was just here, and now it's gone cold." Throughout the journey, they see each other's faces in those of passersbys, shepherds, and street musicians mouthing the chorus, "What happened to you is love, my dear." Shah Rukh's character accompanies Kajol to the doorstep of her London home, where her family awaits in the warmth of electric lights. He waves to her and remains at the gate, unable to go any further - like a ghost that can't linger after dawn.
As you can see, the young protagonists of this iconic, groundbreaking film were born and raised in Europe. For them, alcohol isn't the sought-after oblivion as it was for Dilip Kumar, nor is it the side effect of an aggressive attempt to anchor themselves in the metropolis, as it was for Amitabh Bachchan. It's not even a dandy accessory, as it was for Shammi Kapoor - it's simply fuel that allows them to bond more tightly. It's what stirs that "first intoxication" without which the imagination of love is impossible.
Since 1991, India has been undergoing economic liberalization: increased imports, foreign investments, and so on. Gradually, Bollywood heroes moved abroad: Shah Rukh's characters lived in London ("DDLJ"), New York ("Kal Ho Naa Ho," "Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna," 2007), and San Francisco ("My Name Is Khan," 2010). In the delicate film "Salaam Namaste" (2005), set in Sydney, Preity Zinta's character embarks on a romance with a metrosexual chef, Saif Ali Khan, who faints at the sight of a cut finger and gets pregnant with his child. She decides to give birth and raise the child on her own. Preity Zinta, with her strong and sturdy character, was a complete contrast to Kajol, who had no desire to change herself for men and preferred to be accepted as she was. Zinta was the only actress who brought a genuinely fresh theme to Bollywood: an independent, working woman who didn't rely on men financially and enjoyed hanging out with guys. In this regard, it's essential to watch a particular scene from the film "Kal Ho Naa Ho," where she goes clubbing with Shah Rukh and Saif, culminating in the epochal dance number "It's Time to Disco" (predictably, this is where Shah Rukh ends up in this early example of unabashed sexual ambivalence in Bollywood, needing to be carried home on a stretcher by both of them).
As for other actresses, much like in the 1980s, there were plenty of beauties and much more dazzling ones. Some eventually slipped through Bollywood's fingers into Hollywood (Aishwarya Rai, Priyanka Chopra). However, they either adapted previous psycho-types - occasionally, quite successfully and reasonably justified by upgrades, like Bipasha Basu, who became a high-tech echo of the sensational seductresses Zeenat Aman and Parveen Babi. Or they served as clothes hangers - but even in this seemingly thankless genre, there were craftswomen who reached true heights, like Sushmita Sen, who accurately described herself in Shah Rukh's words: "During our joint tour, he couldn't look at me without laughing and explained that I looked like a true diva. In his imagination, even in the morning, I get out of bed with full makeup, in a fur coat, and donning black sunglasses that cover half my face."
However, all these foreign affairs were closely tied to national identity (the dominant party in India today embodies this), primarily expressed through a deep affection for Bollywood culture and an extensive knowledge of its songs, dances, characters, courtship customs, and all the culturally rich elements that had been accumulated over years of cinematic experience. It was precisely because of this circumstance, especially in the early 21st century, that the Bollywood craze swiftly and effortlessly took hold in the West.
In case you missed it or have forgotten, let me remind you that the turn of the millennium was characterized by a pervasive sense of nostalgia. The British music industry broke records reminiscent of the Beatles era, introducing Britpop, a fusion of the musical and lyrical legacy of post-war guitar music. Pop artists extensively covered ABBA songs. In the realm of cinema, movies like "Boogie Nights" meticulously recreated the world and aesthetics of the late 1970s. The cinematic maestros of the time were Tarantino and Almodóvar, whose distinctive styles were deeply rooted in nostalgia.
It was precisely at this moment that India presented the film "Monsoon Wedding" (2001) by Mira Nair at the Venice Film Festival. The film depicted how relatives of a young couple, who were yet to meet each other, gather in Delhi for a traditional arranged marriage. However, the pre-wedding bustle is so filled with songs from old Bollywood films that it initially fills the hearts of the reluctant bride and groom with a strong desire to love, marry, and, in general, live by the customs of their country.
Instead of the traditional explanation, there is a dance to a song from the movie "Biwi No.1" (1999) starring Salman Khan and Karisma Kapoor. Intoxicated by childhood songs, the groom desires this destined bride, and the only way he can win her heart is by imitating Salman Khan's dance moves with skill! Farah Khan choreographed the sequence, and the film won the Golden Lion.
Bollywood made its way to the West through the door of nostalgia for 20th-century pop culture, which, at that very moment, opened around the world like a grand thoroughfare.
This was in September 2001. By January 2002, at the Rotterdam Film Festival, the most attended event was a Bollywood retrospective. In February, the film "Lagaan: Once Upon a Time in India" (2001), starring Aamir Khan, made it to the Oscar's top five finalists. In May, there was a stampede on the Croisette during the premiere of the remake of "Devdas" with Shah Rukh Khan in the title role, immediately after which English and Hollywood films with Aishwarya Rai, who played Devdas's childhood friend in the new version, took a backseat.
Shah Rukh himself, with his monkeying around the idols of yesteryears - his acting teacher Barry John accurately defined his acting talent as "gymnastic" - was considered too "desi" for the West, if you remember that term. However, Bollywood films with Shah Rukh became the most demanded Indian films in foreign cinemas; essentially, many of them, depicting members of the Indian diaspora in America, earned the majority of their box office revenues overseas. Bollywood dance made its way into Hollywood; Baz Luhrmann used a song from "Sholay" in "Moulin Rouge," Abu Jani and Sandeep Khosla opened a boutique in London's Selfridges, and there's no need to mention the numerous millions of copies of music CDs with Bollywood film song compilations.
The culmination of this process was the film expedition led by British director Danny Boyle, renowned for his earlier work on the cult film "Trainspotting" featuring the star Ewan McGregor. They ventured to Mumbai to shoot "Slumdog Millionaire," a film that involved Bollywood stars and integrated elements of masala film storytelling, along with vibrant song-and-dance sequences. It quickly became the sensation of the 2008 film season, securing 8 Oscars, including the prestigious Best Picture award.
The narrative thread weaving through the life of the orphaned protagonist in this film is the popular TV quiz show "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" In this show, the main character participates, gradually unveiling various episodes from his life, each of which holds the key to his answers. Remember that the first question in the film is: "Who played the lead role in the film 'Zanjeer'?" The hero responds promptly with "Amitabh Bachchan." Furthermore, the film incorporates scenes from "Coolie," in which Amitabh Bachchan sustained his infamous injury, as well as a song from the movie "Don: The Leader of the Mafia" (Don, 2006), a remake of the 1978 film in which Shah Rukh Khan reprised Bachchan's iconic role, similar to his portrayal of Dilip Kumar's signature character in "Devdas."
However, merely inserting themselves into the cardboard cutouts of their cinematic idols was not the extent of Shah Rukh Khan's ambitions. Collaborating with Farah Khan, they envisioned creating a film that would encapsulate the entirety of Bollywood's cinematic experience. Shah Rukh would portray a composite character, embodying the iconic traits of all the previous heroes. Farah was entrusted with the directorial role, with Shah Rukh taking on the mantle of producer, utilizing the resources of his company, Red Chillies. Their aim was to provide a comprehensive exploration of their love for Bombay cinema and their film scholarship by crafting a movie that simultaneously synthesized and prominently showcased the clichés and techniques of cinema. This was reminiscent of the type of cinema pioneered by Jean-Luc Godard. They adopted his method, with the difference being that their film had to possess the same, or ideally even greater, audience demand than the films from which it drew its motives and imagery.
To initiate this ambitious project, they first attempted to create a film where they could experiment with blending various styles and fusing them into an unprecedented visual spectacle made possible through cutting-edge computer graphics. The trial run proved to be resoundingly successful, exceeding all expectations. In the film "Main Hoon Na" (2004), Farah Khan skillfully combined her favorite masalas by Nasir Hussain with an abundance of songs. The film's soundtrack is just as memorable as that of "Hum Aapke Hain Koun," seamlessly blending with the militarized action thriller reminiscent of later Chakraborty films. The story unfolds in a college in Darjeeling, set in a carefree student atmosphere reminiscent of light-hearted and adventurous detective films like "Khel Khel Mein" (1975) with a young Rishi Kapoor. The film was conceived on the eve of the historic visit of the President of Pakistan to India, and this intrigue, aimed at fostering relations between the once-unified but now divided nations, threatened by foes of such unity, also found its place in the plot. One might think that such a concoction would lack a coherent form. However, the essence of and gravitational center of Bollywood lies precisely in the amalgamation of disparate elements, and Farah's film emerged as an exemplar of balance in Bombay cinema, where all its seemingly incongruous ingredients finally fell into place, allowing the puzzle to form a coherent and lucid picture.
During the filming of "Main Hoon Na," Shah Rukh Khan was 38 years old, yet he continued to play the roles of young, love-struck students. The film's plot allowed for a touch of irony in this regard while simultaneously justifying his latest, and arguably his best, student role.
Amidst a backdrop of young people with dreadlocks and rap-inspired outfits, Shah Rukh Khan's character stood out. He was often seen wearing old-fashioned waistcoats, neatly pressed shirts with upturned collars, striped shirts, and a checkered bag slung across his shoulder—a nod to 1970s fashion. But that's precisely who his character was: Ram Prasad Saxena (even his somewhat cumbersome name was borrowed from the fantastic romantic thriller "Barood" from 1976)—a major in the intelligence services, undercover as an underachieving student in a college to protect the general's daughter and, incidentally, to find his step-brother.
In a captivating twist, Farah Khan, the director, marries the young actors with the queen of 1970s villains, Bindu, who plays the role of Miss Kakkar, the teacher. The film also includes the latest car models in a thrilling chase scene, with editing and camera angles that mirror the horse-drawn carriage chase of Hema Malini in "Don: The Leader of the Mafia" (Don, 2006).
What sets this apart from Godard's films is that the Indian audience knows the films being referenced inside out. Watching "Main Hoon Na" gives the audience the delightful feeling that all their beloved Bollywood films have come together in a new, even more dazzling package.
Heart skip a beat and plunge into an emotional abyss in a scene where Shah Rukh Khan, on the school lawn, first lays eyes on the chemistry teacher, played by Sushmita Sen. He falls to his knees, and a melody escapes his lips, bringing tears to the eyes of anyone who hears it. It's a melody that his mother used to sing to him as a lullaby: "Chand mera dil..." - "The moon is my heart, and you are the moonlight, why does the light fall so far from the moon?"
Behind him, two guitarists suddenly appear, adding their musical flourish to what is already the most beautiful melody in the world, as if to say that love is plucking at the heartstrings. This song, which Nasir Hussain had given so little space to in his 1977 film "We're No Worse Than Others," gets a second lease on life. In the new film's plot, it causes quite a commotion in the teacher's lounge. Everyone starts exclaiming, "What is this song? It's my favorite song!" while Shah Rukh Khan keeps singing it again and again, and the guitarists mysteriously reappear each time. It's the unadulterated truth: by the time Farah Khan's film was released, the song and where it played had been forgotten. Forgotten in the sense that it hadn't been performed. Although everyone remembered that there was something beautiful from their childhood, upon hearing "Chand mera dil," they immediately recognized that they were hearing that cherished memory from their youth. This film has the same impact.
After confirming with "Main Hoon Na" (by the way, the title "Main Hoon Na" repeats the final words of the chorus from "Chand mera dil" - "Mai huun, mai huun, mai huun...," which translates to "I am here, I am here"), that their envisioned style worked, was within their control, and elicited the emotional response they desired, Farah Khan and Shah Rukh Khan embarked on creating their magnum opus. This film not only became the pinnacle of their careers but also the culmination of Bollywood's years-long quest. If you find these articles intriguing but lack the time or opportunity to delve into old Bollywood films, watch "Om Shanti Om" (2007), and you'll learn everything you need to know about Bollywood, encapsulating the essence of its experience in just three hours.
In terms of genre, the film is a detective story centered around the theme of reincarnation. It closely follows the footsteps of the 1980 film "Karz," starring Rishi Kapoor, which was the pioneering work in this genre. The movie's plot is situated in the bustling Bombay film industry.
The action in the first episode unfolds in 1977, where Shah Rukh Khan portrays a movie extra who becomes a witness to the murder of a leading film star, played by newcomer Deepika Padukone, whom he passionately loves. The film doesn't merely replicate the style of that era; it intricately weaves it into the narrative. For example, during the premiere of Deepika's new film, she is seamlessly integrated into iconic scenes from legendary movies. She dances in place of Mumtaz in front of Rajesh Khanna while he plays the drums, recreating a memorable moment from Manmohan Desai's "Safar" (1970), a film we analyzed extensively in the fourth chapter. These cinematic techniques of that period symbolize love as a product of imagination, which is a central theme in Shah Rukh Khan and Farah Khan's work. In a magical sequence, the movie extra takes the star to the film studio at night and serenades her with a new enchanting song, "Main Agar Kahoon" ("If I were to say..."), using rear projection, a paper moon on a boom, and an electric fan to simulate the wind and tenderly caress the actress’s locks while he pours wine into her glass from a brass kettle.
The storyline of the second episode unfolds in modern times. Shah Rukh is portrayed as the son of a producer and a new cinema idol: he's muscular, confident, and carefree, much like the fast-paced editing, the fresh songs, and the dances, including the uproarious "Dard-E-Disco" ("Disco-Style Agony"). Essentially, in this episode, Farah and Shah Rukh take that same loud, never-say-no style they pioneered and turn it into a parody squared. The better half of the actors whose names you've encountered throughout this series of articles make appearances in this episode, from Rekha to Kajol, Mithun Chakraborty to Preity Zinta, Jitendra and Govinda to Salman and Saif Ali Khan, all playing themselves.
So, the protagonist, while traveling outside the city, stumbles upon an eerie, abandoned film studio. He begins to have flashbacks. Gradually, we realize that the movie extra, who died in a fire in 1977, deliberately set to cover up a murder, was granted reincarnation as the son of a producer and the opportunity to become a movie star, just as he had dreamt. However, now that he has remembered the old murder and its circumstances but lacks evidence to prove it, his goal is to provoke the murderer into confessing. He restores the film studio and plans to shoot a film based on an unfinished script from that time starring Deepika. He also manages to find a new actress – a modern, vulgar girl capable only of blowing bubblegum bubbles, and he teaches her the grace of the 1970s divas.
Furthermore, Farah seamlessly weaves the plot of "Karz" with the storyline of Bimal Roy's ghostly woman film "Madhumati" (1958), starring Dilip Kumar and Vyjayanthimala. Most remarkably, when all these elements are intricately interwoven, they transform into a clear symbol: in new stars, we always seek shadows of those who sang to us in our childhood, and we consider an actress good only when she reminds us of the heroines who wore hairstyles just like our mothers. This is universal cinema, simultaneously intellectual, postmodernist, and poignant, appealing to the most fundamental aspect of life: the search for eternal return.
What happened when the goal was achieved? Naturally, a decline followed. Farah made a couple more films, which were more colorful and noisy but no longer had the power to touch hearts. After this, she stepped away from the film industry. Shah Rukh continued to play doppelgangers and explore the realm of movies about the film industry. However, "Fan" (2016), in which he portrayed a movie idol and an obsessed stalker to the point of even physically transforming into his hero (an echo and homage to his earlier film roles), elicited a sense of danger and, consequently, rejection from his fans. His experiments took him so far that in "Zero" (2018), he absurdly portrayed a dwarf seducing a paraplegic woman, performing a medley of famous songs and dances by Mumtaz. In the end, they sent the dwarf character into outer space, leaving the audience perplexed, and Shah Rukh took a four-year hiatus from films.
Returning to the existing universe of superspies didn't seem like a promising opportunity. However, it was "Pathan" with its tried-and-true formula that the audience had been eagerly awaiting: something familiar and recognizable. They weren't tired of Shah Rukh just yet.
Other idols, like Salman, Hrithik, and Aamir, remained relatively unchanged. Films started to resemble Hollywood productions more closely: the stunts were indistinguishable, and there were only two songs, one during the credits and something akin to an Ariana Grande music video in the middle. This approach could only be considered satisfactory in the realm of lyrical comedy, where the tricks of villains and twists of fate, in line with the growing sophistication of the audience, were replaced by the internal struggles of the heroes. The most successful example is the beautifully shot, relaxed film about belated vacations and belated realizations, "Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara" (2011) with Hrithik Roshan, which received seven Filmfare Awards.
Numerous remakes were made, even of films that were once considered unthinkable to remake in Bollywood. Some achieved enormous success, like the remake of "Memento" ("Ghajini," 2008, with Aamir Khan), while others gained a touching social relevance that the originals lacked, like the remake of "Collateral" ("The Killer," 2006). Akshay Kumar embarked on a strange series of films promoting the basics of hygiene among rural women: "Toilet: Ek Prem Katha" (2017) and "Padman" (2018), the latter of which concluded with a fiery speech reminiscent of James Stewart's characters in Capra's films... about the benefits of sanitary pads.
Meanwhile, the boisterous, naive, and audacious South Indian film "RRR: Rise Roar Revolt" (RRR, 2022), where the hero, like the 1980s Rajnikanth, stops bullets with his bare hands and wrestles tigers to the ground (a scene similar to the typical Madras film setups of the 1970s, like "Jungle King"—was hilariously parodied in the first episode of "Om Shanti Om") captured the imagination of the Western audience, currently obsessed with anything wild and thrilling, stormed the box office, and even bagged an Oscar. It is already shaping the perception of Indian cinema among foreigners, gradually displacing Bollywood in their minds as its distinctive vibrancy diminishes, making way for American standards
Nevertheless, this is nothing like the crisis of 1986-1987. Profits continue to rise, and despite occasional hiccups, there are still examples of inspired cinema. Still, the chronological ages of the heroes of this era clearly suggest that the time is approaching when new faces must step in and offer fresh perspectives. It's always impossible to predict who these new faces will be and what will define the uniqueness of their approach that the audience will embrace wholeheartedly. However, one thing is certain when it comes to Bombay cinema: the cinema of tomorrow will revolve around love.