Easy Rests the Crown

Nawazuddin Siddiqui, in recent times, has been chewing a fair amount of newsprint and TV coverage, thanks to his splendid performances in Gangs of Wasseypur, Talaash and even Bombay Talkies. Admittedly, Mentor Anurag Kashyap’s hidden hand in promoting his films and actors, and his amazing ability to milk maximum buzz from minimum resources, remains unmatched and is largely responsible for the actor’s popularity. A faceless extra until a few years ago, Nawaz today is a respected and renowned presence in Bollywood. In fact, he was even cast as a leading man in a horror/scary movie against red-hot Bipasha Basu titled Aatma. A dumb project, lacking any semblance of aatma, it sank without a trace, but the point is that a plain-looking actor could even be considered for sharing screen time with the new, glam sexy horror queen, is not to be sneered at. On cue, promos and exposure went on an overdrive and the actor suddenly was all over the place. Media-shy, awkward and inarticulate, Siddiqui hardly cut a cool figure with viewers, but this can be forgiven, because this requires a specialized skill, which comes with practice.

However, some familiar symptoms to perceptive viewers from his type are coming through loud and clear. The first is gratitude to the filmmaker for the break, role, encouragement, blah, blah, along with the bewildered, mixed reaction to this newfound popularity. From nowhere land to center stage can be a difficult space to cope with and navigate for serious, trained, grounded, non-glamorous theater types. How on earth does one deal with this sudden fusillade of attention from all quarters — stars, industrywallahs, media, fans — who until yesterday didn’t know or care about your existence? Their response is often very charming, because it’s fresh and unrehearsed.

Next comes the articulation about the differing perspectives between art house (real) and commercial (escapist) cinema and how the challenge is to strike the right balance between the two. If awards and critical acclaim strike, then (strangely) there is an irresistible temptation from this lot to indulge in inverted snobbery (Naseeruddin Shah is the undisputed CEO of this orbit!) by being suitably patronizing about the big established stars and to generally suggest — as dear Nawaz seems to have done in a recent interview — that hero banna to sabse easy hai (becoming a hero is the easiest thing),because all one has to do is to wear red shirts, dance around trees and engage in glamorous shoshaa …

Oh, really? While any intelligent Bollywood watcher would know from where this naïve, uninformed, inaccurate and presumptuous bloomer is coming from and not take it seriously, hard-nosed critics would laugh their heads off and put it down to yet another poseur “from the other side exhibiting their complex and disguising it in arty and superiority mode.” Once the laughter dies down, with stark pity in their eyes, they will point to the spectacular flops that most of this breed has suffered when attempting anything remotely “glamorous or hero-like”. Be it the great Nasser, Irrfan Khan, Manoj, Anupam Kher or Nawaz, their endeavors in this area had to be peeled off the ceiling.

The reason, dear Nawaz, is very simple. The requirements, demands and audience expectations of stars and actors are planets apart. The Khans, Akshay, Ajay, Hrithik Roshan and Ranbir Kapoor get their fans zonked, screaming and swooning not because of their powerhouse histrionic. They are stars and come with an aura of charisma and glamor that paralyzes the critical faculty. This is a very special quality that is impossible to define, but easy to identify. Nasser, Om Puri, Pankaj, Anupam, Anu Kapoor, Irrfan, Manoj, Nawaz, Kaye Kaye, Rahul and gang are brilliant actors who continue to shine in roles and films that celebrate their core competency — acting. Outside their zone, they are lousy. No one will ever pay money to see any of these blokes in a red shirt, prancing around the trees, romancing a top heroine … so what the hell is Nawaz talking about? His modest, new-found fame has come from where — his red-shirted-hero, hitting on an A-lister heroine in a rom-com?

This posturing, conceit, snobbishness is however not uncommon, even in Hollywood. The great John Barrymore — renowned as the great profile, a lover of theater and reluctant star — was alleged to have retorted to someone who wondered why he never remembered his lines while in the movies: “My memory is too full of beauty: Hamlet’s soliloquy, the Queen Mab Speech, gems from Othello, Macbeth & Lear, the sonnets … do you expect me to clutter all that up with this horse shit?”

Entertaining as this take was, for every Barrymore there was a Marlyn Brando, Clift, Bogart & Tracy and Al Pacino, DiNero, Jack Nicholson and scores of other brilliant, gifted talents who, while respecting theater, valued what cinema stands for and delivers stunning exhibition of their craft time and time again.

Nawazzudin Siddiqui is indisputably a fine actor and has every reason to enjoy his turn in the spotlight. To share the same table with the likes of Aamir Khan, Ranbir Kapoor and Karan Johar and be roundly praised can be intoxicating. Going to Cannes can be mindblowing. However, he is well-advised to remember that never has any member of the paying public ever gone to see his type playing conventional red-shirted hero, wooing a hottie with a Pritam number. That space strictly belongs to sexy baddies Salman Khan, romantic, to-die-for Shahrukh Khan, action-hero Akki & Ajay, the one with Greek-god looks, Hrithik Roshan and the new charmer, Ranbir Kapoor. In this club, for all their big, snobbish talk and arty posturing, there is no entry for Nawaz and gang and that’s the way its gonna be.

So, hero banna mushkil hi nahin namumkin hai, Jaani! (So becoming a hero is not just difficult, it’s almost impossible).