As the sad news of Om Puri's demise was making its way rapidly through social media my mind went back to the times when cinema in India was either 'mainstream' - the big budget movies with an enviable (read glamorous) star cast, or 'parallel' - the small budget movies with actors (with a learning pedigree from institutes and theatre). 'Mainstream' cinema was meant to cater to the general public while 'parallel' was expected to appeal to the educated and intellectual section of the audience. There were times when the twain did meet.
I recollect watching Deepti Naval's lovely smile reach her lovelier eyes, Farooque Sheikh's winsome simplicity, Smita Patil's fiery expressions, Shabana Azmi's subtle emotions, Naseeruddin Shah's characteristic charm and Om Puri's emotive face. Such was their influence that for a brief period I had wanted to take up acting for a career! And my dear friends and family didn't do much to dissuade me either - some would say," you have expressive eyes", some would say,"your face reflects your mind" and some would say I "was born to act" and at home, I was always the entertainer.
I'm not sure whether my not getting carried away by all that is my loss or Indian cinema's!
Mainstream cinema provided an escape from reality. But unlike the popular cinema of today, they were not entirely detached from possibilities. You would find characters that were real, situations that were plausible and stories that were highly likely. Today's popular cinema makes me question the logic of the story, the far fetched situations and the inability to connect with it's average audience. Not to say that I do not enjoy these movies - I watch them because they are, most often, a challenge to possibilities! The stories then were simple, involving people one might have encountered in everyday life and one could quite easily relate to and accept what was shown on 70mm. Not so today, though, despite all the advancement in the movie making process!
Parallel cinema touched that chord in the viewer's heart. It was reality brought to you, without any gloss. The viewer would actually be impacted by these movies and always left the theatres taking away something, beyond the random song. It was an experience in every sense of the term.
When I watched 'Paar', I was at an impressionable age. And the realities of poverty and suffering from my otherwise sheltered world hit me hard. To date I remember the scene where the character played by Naseeruddin Shah puts his ear to reel wife, Shabana Azmi, to ascertain if their yet unborn baby was alive and remember smiling with joy at their relief. The fact that many such instances are etched in my memory only go to prove the impact that they had on the audience.
With Smita Patil's sudden and, most certainly, untimely demise, a void was created in this genre of cinema. Many tried to fill in that void, but the niche she had created for herself was such that it remains empty to date. When I watched the play, Tumhari Amrita, featuring Shabana Azmi and Farooque Sheikh, it was the most amazing experience I had.The use of voice and it's perfect intonation, modulation and expression that made up for the lack of movement and gestures was highly impactful. As I listened to the repartees between the two protagonists in free flowing, chaste Hindi, embellished with liberal amounts of Urdu, through the letters they had exchanged during their life time, I saw myself in both them, in turns!
When one watches Om Puri, his eyes and facial expressions completely explain the state of mind of the character. What one saw/sees is only the character, the actor lost somewhere in the background.
Today, 'acting' has been redefined. It involves tremendous amount of work on getting the physical look of the character in place - the costume, the body, the 'looks', the make-up. And these are so overpowering that they take away from the main context of acting. Cinema has moved from the cerebral to the visual. You rarely leave the theatre feeling enriched. More often than not, one ends up calculating the amount they spent to get entertained!
The wonderful thing about artistes - musicians, actors, painters, sculptors, architects - is that they remain immortal through their body of work. There work remains for others to learn from and to experience. There's a sense of permanency to it all...
(I can't resist saying that in contrast, today's actors will be remembered more for the work on their body! Cheesy, I know..but well, pardon me!)
P.S. But, yeah, I do like Shahrukh Khan and Deepika Padukone (albeit in 'Piku' alone)
I recollect watching Deepti Naval's lovely smile reach her lovelier eyes, Farooque Sheikh's winsome simplicity, Smita Patil's fiery expressions, Shabana Azmi's subtle emotions, Naseeruddin Shah's characteristic charm and Om Puri's emotive face. Such was their influence that for a brief period I had wanted to take up acting for a career! And my dear friends and family didn't do much to dissuade me either - some would say," you have expressive eyes", some would say,"your face reflects your mind" and some would say I "was born to act" and at home, I was always the entertainer.
I'm not sure whether my not getting carried away by all that is my loss or Indian cinema's!
Mainstream cinema provided an escape from reality. But unlike the popular cinema of today, they were not entirely detached from possibilities. You would find characters that were real, situations that were plausible and stories that were highly likely. Today's popular cinema makes me question the logic of the story, the far fetched situations and the inability to connect with it's average audience. Not to say that I do not enjoy these movies - I watch them because they are, most often, a challenge to possibilities! The stories then were simple, involving people one might have encountered in everyday life and one could quite easily relate to and accept what was shown on 70mm. Not so today, though, despite all the advancement in the movie making process!
Parallel cinema touched that chord in the viewer's heart. It was reality brought to you, without any gloss. The viewer would actually be impacted by these movies and always left the theatres taking away something, beyond the random song. It was an experience in every sense of the term.
When I watched 'Paar', I was at an impressionable age. And the realities of poverty and suffering from my otherwise sheltered world hit me hard. To date I remember the scene where the character played by Naseeruddin Shah puts his ear to reel wife, Shabana Azmi, to ascertain if their yet unborn baby was alive and remember smiling with joy at their relief. The fact that many such instances are etched in my memory only go to prove the impact that they had on the audience.
With Smita Patil's sudden and, most certainly, untimely demise, a void was created in this genre of cinema. Many tried to fill in that void, but the niche she had created for herself was such that it remains empty to date. When I watched the play, Tumhari Amrita, featuring Shabana Azmi and Farooque Sheikh, it was the most amazing experience I had.The use of voice and it's perfect intonation, modulation and expression that made up for the lack of movement and gestures was highly impactful. As I listened to the repartees between the two protagonists in free flowing, chaste Hindi, embellished with liberal amounts of Urdu, through the letters they had exchanged during their life time, I saw myself in both them, in turns!
When one watches Om Puri, his eyes and facial expressions completely explain the state of mind of the character. What one saw/sees is only the character, the actor lost somewhere in the background.
Today, 'acting' has been redefined. It involves tremendous amount of work on getting the physical look of the character in place - the costume, the body, the 'looks', the make-up. And these are so overpowering that they take away from the main context of acting. Cinema has moved from the cerebral to the visual. You rarely leave the theatre feeling enriched. More often than not, one ends up calculating the amount they spent to get entertained!
The wonderful thing about artistes - musicians, actors, painters, sculptors, architects - is that they remain immortal through their body of work. There work remains for others to learn from and to experience. There's a sense of permanency to it all...
(I can't resist saying that in contrast, today's actors will be remembered more for the work on their body! Cheesy, I know..but well, pardon me!)
P.S. But, yeah, I do like Shahrukh Khan and Deepika Padukone (albeit in 'Piku' alone)
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