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Bollywood's run for the Oscars

Last week three of the country’s most revered entertainers celebrated their birthday. While the oldest and the most exuberant of the trio, Dev Anand, got extensively written about throughout the week (thanks to the release of his autobiography and his personal extroversion that invites public participation) the other reclusive icon Lata Mangeshkar who turned 79 last week (the age kept varying in various media reports) got her full day of extolment in various forms and formats.

When you are the jewel of the ‘croon’ you can be as captivating in your in your work as you are in person. Sadly the third of the three showbiz icons last week who got completely left behind was Yash Chopra. His birthday is sandwiched between Dev Saab and Lataji’s on September 27. And it was a very special birthday.
The doyen of Indian cinema turned 75 last week. It was a grand occasion, and one that should’ve been feted in style. Unfortunately we were all busy fighting other battles on behalf of and against people who think an Oscar matters more than a Dada Phalke.

In hindsight the whole Eklavya versus Dharm battle seems uncalled for. As fireworks flew back and forth, the best reaction came from the director of The Loins Of Punjab Presents... Manish Acharya who said foreigners love movies with deserts, camels and ethnic clothes. And Eklavya has all three. Manish is right. Last year too Paheli had deserts, camels and ethnic clothes. There’s karmic pattern here, and we need to explore it.

The Oscars and the desertscape is inextricably joined at the hip. Why do you think my dear friend Deepa Mehta’s exquisite work Water missed getting the Oscar after making it all the way to the short list? Because she chose to film by a river instead of a desert!

Bhavna Talwar made the same mistake. She shot her rigorously eloquent Dharm at the banks of the rivers in Varanasi. Oh, fish! Next time she knows where to locate her dharm-yudh.
Jokes aside, why does an Oscar mean more to us than a National award? Recognition abroad is always more important to our entertainment industry than the highest honour at home. Every week I’m educated about a new foreign film festival.

Every week one of out multi-complexed works of esoteric art marches into an obscure festival. Ironically, cinema abroad seems to be examining us with a newly-found affection and reverence.The shift in the global East-West paradigm was evident to me when I spoke to Sir Ben Kingsley last week. He spoke with such genuine warmth about Bollywood and all things Indian. He seemed so eager to shoot in our country!
Sir Ben ain’t alone.

Loads of producers, actors and filmmakers from Europe and America are displaying a keen interest in our cinema. But for us to take our vision abroad we need to grow up and display more maturity not only in the selection of films for international honours but also within the country.

I watched this year’s National award winner for Best Film the Bengali Kaal Paurush and was dismayed by its 1970s art-house tone of narration and its rather opaque view of human relationship, be it the man-woman or the father-child one. Ironically, while the film suggested a sense of continuity in life culture and art, the narrative itself seemed to be frozen in the past. In spite of a remarkably astute and made-over performance by Rahul Bose (arguably his best so far) Kaal Purush struck me more as a work of a filmmaker who belongs to that elite circle of chronic awardees who get National honours every year with Pavlovian predictability rather than a genuinely deserving piece of art.

That’s where a man like Yash Chopra comes in. From Dharm Putra in 1962 (back then Yashji spoke heatedly on the Hindu-Muslim divide that Bhavna Talwar’s Dharm so passionately addresses itself in today’s day and rage) to Chak De! India, what a remarkably rich oeuvre Yash Chopra has to gift to global cinema.
When I spoke to Ben Kingsley I felt the same bonafide humility in this man that never ceases to impress me in Mr Chopra.

If Sir Ben picked up his phone in London and dialed me when he got to know I desired to interview him, Yashji has always returned calls and in fact returned my sms with calls instantly and spoken his heart out. Of late, Yashji’s naturally gregarious nature has been curbed somewhat thanks to all the idle gossip about his family.

I don’t know what to say because I’m never sure how it would be interpreted, says this guileless man of the movies who has defined and redefined cinematic tastes for 50 years. No wonder Yashji reminds me of his Libran sister Lataji. No wonder they adore one another. If you enter the swanky Yashraj Studios one of the first sights you encounter is a picture of Mata Saraswati.

Oh yes, one more thing binds the two mythical Librans together. It’s Sanjeev Kohli, son of the legendary music composer Madan Mohan who’s like a son to Lataji and who’s the CEO of Yash’s production house.
Yash Chopra knows Hindi cinema and its audience. How many filmmakers today can actually claim that? Far lesser filmmakers than Yashji take potshots at his penchant for aesthetic visuals and undying love for love romance and music.

But look at the man’s infinite passion for cinema! Whatever he makes he gives back to the movies. Whatever he is today is defined by his love for the cinema. And have you ever heard Yashji make one disparaging statement against any of his colleagues? Live and let live, seems his motto in life.
But does our film industry really allow the successful to build on their equity? Nope. They’d rather toast the failure of Yashraj Films’ Jhoom Baraabar Jhoom than the success of Chak De! India.


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