PRIYANKA CHOPRA, SAMANTHA PRABHU E MATILDA DE ANGELIS: EVENTO CITADEL

Il 24 settembre 2024 Prime Video aveva organizzato a Londra un evento speciale per presentare le serie Citadel: Diana e Citadel: Honey Bunny, spin-off italiano e indiano della serie principale Citadel. Ospiti d'onore le tre attrici protagoniste: Priyanka Chopra (Citadel), Matilda De Angelis (Diana), e Samantha Prabhu (Honey Bunny) accompagnata dai registi Raj & DK. Citadel: Diana (trailer) è disponibile sulla piattaforma streaming Prime Video dal 10 ottobre 2024, Citadel: Honey Bunny (trailer) dal 7 novembre 2024. Video ufficiale di celebrazione delle tre serie, con dichiarazioni del cast - inclusa Matilda.

Il primo ottobre 2024, sempre nella capitale britannica, Priyanka e Matilda avevano inoltre partecipato all'evento Prime Video Presents: Trailblazers. Priyanka in ottobre era a Londra per le riprese della seconda stagione di Citadel. 

Vedi anche: Priyanka Chopra a Roma: evento Citadel, 23 aprile 2023

Vi segnalo l'articolo Citadel-Diana's Matilda De Angelis: ‘Watched Priyanka after I had shot for my Citadel’, di Mayank Shekhar, pubblicato da Mid-Day l'11 ottobre 2024:

'“I was over for the London première of Citadel and watched Priyanka Chopra for the first time,” says Italian lead actor, Matilda De Angelis, from Citadel Diana. (...) By then, Matilda says, she had already shot for her own show: “So, I couldn’t take anything from Priyanka’s performance in Citadel [into mine]. But I just thought to myself - please, let me be, at least, as good as her!” In the series, Matilda plays spy Diana. That’s pronounced ‘Dee-a-naa’, the Italian way. As against ‘Die-a-naa’ for the late princess, from London - where Mid-Day exclusively met Matilda, along with her showrunner, executive producer, Gina Gardini. (...)

The final frame of Citadel (2023) lets out that there will be Diana. One wonders, if the Indian version was planned alongside. Gina says, “We started at the same time, five-and-a-half years ago. The fantastic part of the experience was the [Indian and Italian] showrunners, writers, would get together every two weeks, to spend two hours on Zoom, to check where we were at [in the writing process].” Which is different from a common writers’ room “that involves 27 people, over 10 months, breaking down episodes. Our mission from the Russos and to Raj & DK [creators from India] was the shows have to stand on their own. The idea isn’t [to develop] interconnected stories, like Marvel. There are, however, several winks in both shows - subtle easter eggs for super-fans, where Diana’s world is in Honey Bunny, and Citadel itself.” That Italy and India got picked first for expanding the Citadel spy-verse, appears natural to Gina: “Histories of cinema in both countries go back a hundred years, with strong cultural identities. Our family values are similar. Also, despite genres, we try and tell deeply emotional stories. This isn’t just true for Diana and Honey Bunny, but the overarching Citadel as well.”

While Matilda would like to be favourably compared to Priyanka in her Italian Citadel, what she has in common with the dually hyphenated (Bollywood-Hollywood) star is she’s also a singer. To drill in the fact of how big Matilda is, back home, the Italian press in London - rightly mesmerised by her performance in the show’s first episode première - told Mid-Day, what beats everything else is, she’s hosted Sanremo! Matilda laughs, “Can you imagine? I did 20 movies, but the time I conducted that one show, everybody got to know me, what am I doing [with myself]!” And what’s Sanremo? “It’s our Super Bowl.” Only, that instead of sport/American football, it involves Italy’s top musicians competing annually, as if on Indian Idol, that the whole nation is collectively hooked to. Matilda doesn’t sing in Citadel. For her favourite musical movie-moment, she points us to “the sequence of singing and acting in the film, Robbing Mussolini - really proud of that scene” .'

Video Mid-Day

Priyanka Chopra, Samantha Prabhu, Matilda De Angelis, Raj & DK

Evento Prime Video Presents: Trailblazers

ANANYA PANDAY A MILANO: EVENTO SWAROVSKI

Il 16 giugno 2024 il marchio Swarovski ha inaugurato a Milano la mostra Masters of Light, allestita presso il Palazzo Citterio. Ananya Panday, testimonial di Swarovski, ha presenziato all'evento.

Video ufficiale

Video Mid-Day

Ananya Panday e Gwyneth Paltrow

IL RAGAZZO GIUSTO - LA SERIE

[Archivio]

Nell'autunno del 2020 Netflix propose - anche in italiano - la serie BBC in sei episodi Il ragazzo giusto, tratta dall'omonimo romanzo di Vikram Seth, diretta da Mira Nair e con un cast ricchissimo: Tabu, Vijay Raaz, Vijay Varma, Shahana Goswami, Ram Kapoor, Ishaan Khatter, Vivaan Shah, Ranvir Shorey, Randeep Hooda, Kulbhushan Kharbanda, Vinay Pathak, Vivek Gomber e Manoj Pahwa. Trailer. Vi segnalo di seguito un paio di interviste concesse dalla regista in quel periodo. 

- Mira Nair on 'A Suitable Boy': I would joke, it’s 'The Crown' in brown, on a slim budget, Namrata Joshi, The Wire, 20 settembre 2020:

'How much is A Suitable Boy itself a homecoming for you? How lived in does it feel to you?

Very lived in. I read the novel in 1993 soon after it came out. I read it twice. I didn’t want to leave my best friend at the end of it - it was that kind of a feeling. Vikram [Seth] had so extraordinarily captured that Nehruvian India [at] the moment we were trying to create [a] new country after freedom from the British. And yet we were so anglicised and spoke and dreamt in English. He coupled all that with a very astute eye on the politics of that time. So prescient in some ways. But, besides that, the wit and the sensuality, the great depths and layers of friendship between the families - the Khans, the Mehras, the Chatterjees, the Kapoors. It’s a world I do know, but I [have] also longed for. My parents married in 1951, the year of A Suitable Boy’s story. They travelled from Punjab to Orissa where he [Nair’s father] was an administrative officer [IAS officer], setting up the new capital of Bhubaneswar. That’s where I grew up, in those bungalows, with hardly any roads and a new airport, when I was eight years old. The idealism of that time has always attracted me.

The society that you are talking of - what hits home is a longing and a sense of nostalgia: what we were and where we have come.  Do you also see parallels with the situation now? 

I only came back to A Suitable Boy. I haven’t been holding a torch for it for the last 25 years, hoping to make it. Not at all. I moved on to my own work. Only when I heard that it was being made perhaps [that] I said, anyone but a gora [White] to make it, man! I need to make it [laughs]. Even the story of Babri Masjid is in it. The stories in it, the prescience of Vikram’s vision - the seeds were planted then. But there was the great beauty of the syncretic culture where we come from. The same cloth [from which they are cut], Hindu and Muslim, whether it be language or poetry or music. (...) That was actually the biggest magnet for me. (...) This is (...) the reason why I just had to make it. And make it with such great artistes who [are] deeply imbued [with] what I am talking about in terms of that syncretic culture. Tabu was the first one cast in my head and fortunately she loved it. It’s all about finding that spirit in who you choose and who you bring to the party, and I swear the greatest satisfaction of making A Suitable Boy was this great cornucopia of actors. And pretty much everyone said yes. (...) We cast for over 18 months, [from] all over India - 110 characters and they are all great. And, of course, I have old friends. Many of them started with me so they can’t say no to me. Even Vijay Raaz, who is now a big star, did two scenes for me, memorable scenes. Or Manoj Pahwa. These are  extraordinary actors who just came and lit up the screen. That was the real joy; to see Shahana Goswami completely sparkle without any inhibition and with great skill.

You have adapted many other literary works for the screen. What is it that made this fun or [conversely] a nightmare?  

I came to it when it had already been adapted by Andrew Davies, who is a master distiller of great big tomes like War and Peace, Les Misérables. He has craftsmanship on his side in such a fantastic way and also a great sense of humour and also the television structure of the cliffhanger, and there are so many in our book. It was there but it had to be culled out. At that time, it was eight hours [duration] and, frankly, the financing for an eight-hour, all-Asian drama in the Western world is always going to be challenging. I used to joke and say, it’s The Crown in brown, as magnificent, with as much sweep as [that] series, but the budget was some 10% of it. I don’t have the statistics, but it is always the case. You don’t have what you need when you are not a gora [White]. I am used to it and I always show it. I always give it to them: “Don’t see my struggle baby. But this is as good as anything out there”. (...) Having said that, we had to distil it further into six episodes of six hours. At that point I was deeply involved and basically added two things. One was to make the political interweave with the personal, [to say]  that it would not just be a marriage story - who will she marry,  who is the boy? It’s not only that. But it is much more interwoven with the politics of then, which is [also] the politics of now. That balance is what I tried to bring back in. Also, in the process, bringing back certain characters that had not been given the time of day. Like Mrs. Mahesh Kapoor, (...) who is the unspoken cornerstone, the foundation of this political family and is really the glue that holds this family together. Restoring some weight to some characters. And sadly, as is often the case, killing some characters, [by] just not having them. Secondly, I insisted on the language. It’s a beautiful novel in English that people spoke at that time. [But] if Saeeda bai would sing in Urdu, then why wouldn’t she talk in Urdu? Or the villagers. That was the discussion at every level. Vikram, thankfully, supported me, thanked me for “translating it back”, as he put it. For BBC it was quite radical to have their first big drama show in Urdu, Awadhi and Hindustani, mixed with English. But I could do this much and not more. I tried to juice it and do it as skilfully as I could and as naturally to the character as possible. There were other things. Music is my oxygen and it’s a huge part of everything that weaves these worlds together.

Even the incidental music ties in with the larger narrative very well. 

This is a very different style for the BBC: “Is it a Bollywood thing? What are these musical interludes? Can’t we just have some kind of a singing over there?” I would say, this is not Bollywood style; this is what I do, and this is why I am doing this. Basically, it was a vocabulary that was not familiar to them. But I must say they came around and they love it for what it is. And then I worked directly and closely with Vikram to get the balance and the nuance and the love and the complications, but most of all the friendship - the depth of it - correct between the Hindu and the Muslim characters. I did not want to fall into any traps of today. I wanted to make sure that we really got (...) what I wanted to say, which is syncretism. The structure of it was given to me and I carefully worked within.

The society as seen in A Suitable Boy is syncretic, but also at a point in time when the threads are beginning to unravel. Is there a sense of regret on how far we have come as a culture, country, society?  

Regret is like giving in to defeat. I am confronted by it - we all are - in such a direct, transparent fashion, whether it be renaming things, or pretending things just didn’t exist and, of course, the more targeted attacks we see every day. We cannot be defeated [by] this. We have to persevere, and we have to remember who we actually are. It’s within ourselves'.

- Going down Mira Road, Mayank Shekhar, Mid-Day, 21 novembre 2020 (il testo include il video dell'intervista integrale):

'Mira Nair's journey as an Odisha-born/bred filmmaker in America will seem greater to you, if you consider the first thing she did, landing up as an under-grad student at Harvard in the mid '70s. She went over to her course-mate from Bombay, Sooni Taraporevala, desperately to check on who the other Indians around were. There were only two - studying film. One of them, a gentleman named Anand Mahindra; the industrialist, whose surname carries the massive fleet of automobiles on Indian roads. "Anand was a really talented filmmaker. He's still an artist in his soul. I'll never forget the wonderful thesis-film he made, following a holy man up a mountain," Mira remembers. Screenwriter Sooni and Mira of course became great friends and colleagues thereafter - collaborating on notable productions like Salaam Bombay! (1988), Mississippi Masala (1991), and The Namesake (2006). Anand was the "big brother, who'd encourage everyone to move back to India [once done with studies]." As he did, taking over his family empire.

Speaking of famous associations from unrelated fields, a picture that once got widely circulated online was of Mira as Cleopatra and Shashi Tharoor as Mark Antony, in an inter-college Shakespearean production from the '70s. Mira was a student at Delhi University's Miranda House then; Shashi Tharoor, the undisputed star of St. Stephen's College. She's been asked about this picture on occasion during interviews. And I gauge from her responses before - it doesn't seem like she liked the college-kid Shashi Tharoor much! Did he throw big words at her? "Oh no, I just didn't like kissing him [in the play]. Back then, you know how it was - even if you got slightly physically close to someone, people would start cat-calling. It was ridiculous." As for the Tharoorosaurus bit, "Well, we used to tease Shashi [who hadn't lived or been abroad yet] about where he had got that accent from. (...) But he's always been a sport. He used to take it well!" (...)

Mira remains still one of the most critically acclaimed filmmakers - for a majority of her filmography. (...) Mira is formally trained in cinema verite - art/technique, mostly associated with documentary filmmaking, intended to convey realism. (...) The main muse for Mira's realistic lens was in fact the city of Bombay itself. (...) "Now they can call me a New York-based filmmaker in Bombay, but the fact is that not many saw Salaam Bombay, right under their noses. It was a life around us. When you live in it all the time, you can't see it well - having numbed yourself to it." This seamless transition from documentary filmmaking to fiction - something that writers of non-fiction find harder to be equally adept at - Mira admits, has helped define her work. And you can still sense strong stamps of it, even in later movies. (...) "Cinema of truth [cinema verite] sounds a little pretentious. It is very real, in the sense that you don't script everything. You just have to be humble enough to enter the world. Just be there. Of course your presence is shaping [the moment] to some extent. But it is also about being an observer to the situation, and eliciting things from [actors] - as they feel them, rather than you telling them what to say."

What this has also led to since her celebrated debut feature is - film after film, an established practice of casting 'real' people, as it were, or non-professional actors, alongside trained actors/stars, in the same frame. And watching this unique alchemy come to life on screen. For instance, Mira discovered Sarita Choudhury, who played Denzel Washington's love interest in Mississippi Masala, biking on a street in Cambridge once. She found Tillotama Shome (Alice in Monsoon Wedding) in the corridors of Delhi's Lady Shri Ram College. Even better, she picked up Kamini Khanna for a typically Delhi-Punjabi Shashi Aunty in the same film - spotting her on the walking track of a South Delhi park. Does she think everyone is essentially an actor then? "Not at all! It's about several things, but mostly instinct. I can tell immediately if the camera will love you or not. Or sometimes it doesn't matter if the camera won't love you, but can I use that in a way? Like [Pedro] Almodovar and his ladies are fantastic. And they so destroy the notion of what's beautiful before a camera. But the roles need that. So it depends on the role, of course."

While casting for Monsoon Wedding, she recalls, a newbie Vijay Raaz's face had caught her eye: "He'd walked in from the train station to (...) Churchgate. I don't know how I even remembered his name. Paresh Rawal, whom I admired a lot, had approached me for (...) Dube's part. We had a workshop in Delhi, which Paresh couldn't join. So then I had to take Tillotama [Alice] back to Bombay to rehearse with Paresh [Dube]. Naseer bhai [Naseeruddin Shah] had given us space above his flat for rehearsal. The door opened, and my eyes fell out. Paresh had gained 30 to 40 pounds. He looked like Alice's father, and this was supposed to be a love-story with him! (...) He said, 'I'll just lose [weight].' But we were shooting in literally four days! I just thought of the bald man with long ears and the widest mouth in the world, Vijay Raaz, and called him. I had not auditioned him, but I loved his look." The role expanded as Raaz came on board, killing it along the way. (This conversation between Mid-Day and Nair took place a day before Raaz was summarily arrested and subsequently bailed over a molestation charge on a movie set.) He's had a solid career since. 

Several Indian actors in the Bombay film industry similarly owe their first frame on the big screen to Mira. Right from Nana Patekar and Irrfan in Salaam Bombay!. Late Irrfan, she always felt, was cut from a different cloth from Bombay's leading men in the '80s and '90s. He delivered, arguably, his finest work with Mira in The Namesake (2006). Or Randeep Hooda and Ram Kapoor, for that matter. They were debutants in Monsoon Wedding; bona fide stars now. Why, even Kamini Khanna! She's played multiple versions of Shashi Aunty in every other Bollywood movie. This contribution to the Bombay film industry in particular, I suspect, isn't acknowledged enough about the New York and Kampala-based filmmaker.

Even more than a keen head-hunter, Mira is an all-encompassing aesthete, wholly invested in cinematography, literature, production design, colours, costumes, the craft of moulding actors/characters... (...) Given the résumé and musical references seeped into her work, besides an army of previous recruits from among top Bombay actors, I'm almost amazed that in all these years, Bollywood folk haven't ever attempted to co-opt Mira with a grand scheme/project? "I am not looking for that either. But I have really lovely friendships. Yash Johar and I were very close. (...) I really respect Aditya Chopra's mind. I had taken him on an idea - not for me to do, but for us to work together on. But, no, I don't think so. I think they think correctly - that I just make my own movies!" (...)

A film that would've brought (...) [Mira] back to Bombay - her early muse, and that too with Johnny Depp - was the adaptation of Gregory David Roberts' Shantaram. Regrets - that the film fell through? "I only regretted that I gave one-and-a-half years of my life to it. And we really had a good thing going. Not, otherwise. They were starting it again, and I was not interested!" Mira also famously let go of directing the fourth Harry Potter film, for the sake of The Namesake. She declined The Devil Wears Prada, going by the same measure of what interests her - and what she can do, better than similar directors on hire. (...) Exuding power, all right, in an industry that when she entered it - doing theatre in New York during day, waiting tables at night - there were barely any coloured people around, let alone desis, or women. (...) Mira first got on the road, splitting rent for an editing suite at a basement collective for offbeat artistes in New York. This is after she had shot Salaam Bombay!. Which she knew the West had no similar reference point for. Spike Lee, same age, also editing his film, would pay the other half of the rent!'. 

AKSHAYE KHANNA TALKS ABOUT VINOD KHANNA, HIS RETURN FROM OSHO AND MORE

[Archivio]

Vi propongo una delle rare interviste concesse dal riservatissimo Akshaye Khanna. Akshaye Khanna talks about Vinod Khanna, his return from Osho and more, Mayank Shekhar, Mid-Day, 2 gennaio 2020:

'There are two ways to look at a chat with actor Akshaye Khanna. One, that he is so painfully shy, no matter how hard you try, he's unlikely to dig deep and open up (about his life; or otherwise). That said, for the same reason, anything you pointedly ask is likely to elicit a response you haven't heard before. Because we know so little about him anyway - right down to something as rudimentary as his name. (...)

If you Google 'Akshaye', ending with the letter E, the only person likely to show up is you! Is there a story to your name (is it different from 'Akshay')?

You know, I had asked my father this many times, as to why my name's spelt the way it is. There was a specific reason that he had given me, on two or three occasions. And I can't remember. My mum's gone, and my dad's gone as well, so I don't know who to ask. (...)

The other mystery: Where do you live?

I've lived at Malabar Hill (in South Bombay) all my life. (...)

I'm told you always wanted to be a movie-star ever since you were a teenager. Where did that come from (doing stage in school, perhaps)?

Oh, from much before [my teens], I always knew this is what I wanted to do. But more than that, I never saw myself being able to do anything other than be an actor. I think it was more from seeing my father (Vinod Khanna). I spent a lot of time going to work with him as a kid, which influenced me a lot. I did amateur theatre in school, but I am not a fan. I have huge stage fright. Still do. Somehow I always felt this [film] was the right fit for me. The first hurdle to cross was telling parents. Once I did that, then it was, kind of, out of my hands! Because dad said he wanted to make a film for me. I have always been naive in life - unable to plan things. Still am. I just go with the flow. (...) I didn't say I wanted to be a movie star. I wanted to be an actor. But if you are a successful actor, then you're a star! You're also asking me about what I thought about, a long time ago. It's impossible for me to remember. It's really scary how I can't remember things - events, faces, names, it's very blurry. So anything about the past... If you ask me two years from now what I spoke to you about [here], I wouldn't remember. It's always been that way, ever since I was a child. It's very embarrassing. (...)

According to Karan Johar, you wouldn't step out of your Alibaug weekend home, even if invited to pick up the Academy Award. True?

Yeah. I like my weekends in Alibaug. (...)

You were originally cast in Aamir Khan's role in Dil Chahta Hai (DCH), (...) true?

No, out of all three [lead] actors, I was the first person to hear the script [of Dil Chahta Hai]. When I first read it, the role that I wanted to instinctively play was Aamir's. And that's not the role that Farhan wanted me to play. When [Farhan] heard me out, I think he was a little disappointed. He went and got the cast that he wanted [in place first], and then he came back to me and said, "I know this is what you wanted to do, but this [Sid] is the role I have written for you, and so will you please consider it again?" I heard [the script] again, and again, and again, until I was convinced that what Farhan was saying was right, and I was wrong. So I did that [role]. (...)

The other thing about your career are the big gap years - at least two or three blocks of them in your filmography.

Having worked continuously from a very young age, not working is the hardest part. It's depression time - not something that I seek, or look forward to. But somehow, destiny has played its cards in such a way that I've taken certain forced breaks in my career. They never have been by choice, and never will be in future. This is rare, especially in the Hindi film industry, because there are such few actors, and there is so much work.

How do you overcome that phase? (...)

You don't. You just go through that phase. (...) I am not going to tell you what my day looks like, when I'm not working. Why would you even want to know? (...)

When your father (Vinod Khanna) passed on, the obituaries in the press revealed an incredibly committed yet uniquely free-spirited man. Are there any stories you can recall?

I think once a person who's been in public life for decades is gone, if there is a side of them that they wanted people to know about, they would have managed [to convey] that in their own life, right? So I don't know if there is any aspect of him that I'd like to throw light on, which maybe he didn't [want].

What's in public domain: a man who left everything at the peak of his career to join Osho. You were probably four or five then. Did you want to know, who's this guy [Osho]?

One doesn't look at it like that at five. Osho had nothing to do with my thoughts about why my dad wasn't there. That came much later. As one grows, maybe 15 or 16, you start learning, listening or reading about the person who...

Influenced your father so much...

To not only leave his family, but to take 'sanyaas' (renunciation). Sanyaas means giving up your life in totality - family is [only] a part of it. It's a life-changing decision, which he felt that he needed to take at the time. As a five-year-old, it was impossible [for me] to understand it. I can understand it now.

You can, in what sense?

In the sense that something must have moved him so deeply inside, that he felt that that kind of decision was worth it for him. Especially, when you have everything in life. And when life doesn't look as though there's much more that you can have. A very basic fault-line/earthquake has to occur within oneself to make that decision. But also stick by it. One can make the decision and say this doesn't suit me - let's go back. But that didn't happen. And circumstances in America with Osho and the colony, friction with the US government - that was the reason he came back.

Oh, I was given to believe that a lot of people like him got disillusioned with Osho eventually, which led to their return.

From whatever memories I have about my father talking about that time in his life, I don't think that was a reason at all. It was just the fact that the commune was disbanded, destroyed, and everybody had to find their own way. That's when he came back. Otherwise I don't think he would've ever come back.

And you read up on Osho when you became older?

I've read a lot of Osho's discourses and seen hundreds of thousands of videos, I love him.

You could join an Osho commune? They still exist.

I don't know if sanyaas is something that I could do. But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy his discourses, respect his intellect, oratory skills, and his way of thinking. I have deep respect for him.

[Back to movies] and trivia list, your favourite director is Priyadarshan. True?

One of them. I've done five films with him. And if you take Malayalam, Tamil, Hindi, I'd say Priyan would've done 100-plus films, which is a rare achievement for any director. Some directors like to move on. But he's also tended to repeat actors he's enjoyed working with - Akshay Kumar, Paresh [Rawal], there're many. He has done 30 films with Mohanlal. I always know when Priyan likes an actor. He makes it obvious. When I was doing Aakrosh (2010) with him and Ajay [Devgan], I told Ajay, he'll definitely offer you a couple of films in the future. They did a film together right after.

You tend to protectively advise co-actors about directors, it seems. Saif (Ali Khan) (....) told us about how you advised him about becoming warm and breaking ice with Abbas-Mustan during Race (2008), and that he was behaving too much like a star!

Did I? If he [Saif] says so, maybe I did. Abbas-Mustan are very gentle people. I've done four films with them. When they direct you, and even in their personal life, they are very soft. You have to be very soft with them, otherwise they clam up. You cannot be loud and aggressive. And Saif, sometimes, can be a little, you know how Saif is... I must have told him something to that [effect], I don't know. But I think they got along fine.

(Audience) Loved your film Section 375. What did you think of the timing of the film's release - coming a year after the MeToo movement? How do you think it changed the narrative around the movement itself?

The timing was never the intention. Neither was it the purpose of making the film. It was just a great story. It [delved on a] topic of the time. Which it always will be, because there are always people from both sexes, who don't know how to behave appropriately. Having said that, Section 375 is a film that I am very proud to have in my filmography. Sometimes, box-office numbers of a film are not always commensurate with the quality of a product. This film I will continue to be proud of. It will age well. (...)

Having been an actor for over 20 years - with Section 375, one sensed that you were totally stepping out of the usual tropes and mannerisms that we've of course admired you onscreen for. Would you agree?

On the contrary - to be able to engage an audience purely through dialogue, without other things, itself is not easy. And it's a combination of how you are directed, and how you perform. But the direction side is more important. That's why I felt very satisfied, creatively, with the way Ajay [Bahl] directed Section 375. It's very easy for a director to impose direction on an actor, when it's really not required. And I think Ajay has a very good sense of when to direct an actor, and when to not direct. That's very important. I don't know if I am making any sense.

Yes, you are.

Acting has been primarily one thing - being in the moment. Like, in the last few years, I've been noticing that we always do photo-shoots for a film's poster and publicity material. I just don't like the quality of photo-shoots - no matter how good the photographer or subject is. Since everything is digital now, a great alternative is you remove a frame from a scene of the film. It is always more honest. Eyes are more honest. The actor is acting. That 'being in the moment' doesn't come across in the photo-shoot. You understand what I'm saying?

Would you say that about dubbing as well, as against sync sound?

I wouldn't compare it with dubbing, no. But I know what you're saying. Sync sound is way more honest than dubbing. It has to be, right? It is like real life is more honest than fiction.

Saying this because Dil Chahta Hai also got credited with reviving sync sound in mainstream Hindi films in a way.

Yeah, the realism of sync sound was lost to Hindi cinema for many decades. I think millions of performances that have been dubbed for so many decades would have lost a certain edge [as a result]. I've worked the majority of my career dubbing in my films. Only in the last 10-12 years, we've been spoilt with sync sound. I really feel bad for actors who never had sync sound. Not that they knew the difference, because they never experienced it, but I still feel bad for them.

Do you closely follow latest releases/films?

Yeah. I primarily watch at home. I might wait three months for it to come on one of the platforms, but I will watch it.

Two back-to-back releases in 2019 were Bala, and Ujda Chaman (by the same producers as Section 375). (...) They were both on premature balding, and how it affects confidence levels. You've had that situation in your life. Is it such a big deal?

Well, because it started happening to me at such a young age, it was like a pianist losing his fingers. It almost felt like that to me, in those days. Till you really come to terms with it, and then it starts bothering you less. It's like, I suppose, waking up one morning and saying, "Oh shit, I can't read!" So it would affect you, right? Or you get up in the morning and your knees are paining, and the pain just won't go away. (...) And you might be a sportsperson, so it is heartbreaking. You might lose a year or two of your career. So, as I said, it is like a pianist losing his fingers. Because the way you look as an actor is very important. And especially this part (pointing to the face upwards). [Balding] at 19 or 20 is devastating. It can mentally like kill you. But, as I said, it is like anything else - someone needs glasses, someone needs something else... It's up to you, and what you are comfortable with doing [about it].

Did it affect your confidence levels as an actor at some point?

I think it did affect my self-confidence as a young actor - more than I'd like to admit, actually. Definitely.

(Audience) Lot of actors these days interact with their fans through social media. Do you ever intend on doing so?

Can't say for the future, but right now, whatever I hear from my colleagues, especially my friends on social media, I've never got a sense that it is something constructive. It just doesn't serve any purpose. I am not comfortable with it.

(Audience) Do you think you resonate more with the scripts being offered/churned out today than, say, 2001/2002?

People's memories are short. So they kind of think that what I'm doing now, is what I have always wanted to do, but never got those opportunities before. That's never the case. Your current choices in films, at least for me, are very instinctive. They are not well planned, or thought out. And some of those films might not appear to be hardcore commercial cinema. But when I view myself as an actor, I see myself as a very hardcore commercial actor, given the choices of my films, right from the beginning of my career. I do understand, especially since I have started working more regularly in the last two to three years, that my choices have been a little cerebral - if that's a word you could use for, say, even Mom, Ittefaq, Accidental [Prime Minister], or Section [375]. But that is just some choices of films. I don't intellectualise it. And neither should you.

Are there films you've seen lately that you wished were offered to you?

When I watch most films I always feel that the person who has done those parts has done them better than I could.

Any script you can remember saying no to, which turned out to be a pretty good film?

Yeah. Saif's role in Parineeta (2005). I didn't do it for some reason. I don't know why. After the film released, I called up [producer Vidhu] Vinod [Chopra] and said I really enjoyed the film, and wish I had done it. You know how Vinod is. He said, "Yeah, I told you, you should have; you're such a b******, d***, and this, and that!" I was, like, fine. There are times you could be in a bad mood, when you hear a script. There could be so many things that influence your decision. So, yeah, sometimes things slip out of your hands. And sometimes things fall into your lap, which you never expected. (...)

Last question: You might be the only person in Indian showbiz to take a stand on an institution, and say that you'll never get married! And that you want to live alone "forever".

I have always known instinctively that I would very much prefer to live my life without someone by my side all the time. I find that suffocating. That's the only reason.

Do you go on dates?

All the time. But to commit to a lifetime of togetherness is virtually impossible for me.

Serially monogamous - is that what it would mean?

No, it means knowing oneself reasonably well enough to not ruin somebody else's life!'.

SAIF ALI KHAN: WHEN MY FATHER DIED, PATAUDI PALACE GOT RENTED

[Archivio]

Vi propongo una piacevolissima (e lunghissima) intervista concessa da Saif Ali Khan a Mayank Shekhar, pubblicata da Mid-Day il 7 novembre 2019. Il testo include il video dell'intervista integrale. Saif Ali Khan: When my father died, Pataudi Palace got rented:

'You get called the 'Nawab', which inheritance-wise, you are [of Pataudi]. But the fact is you're actually a self-made actor, having taken nothing from parents, ever since you moved to Bombay, at 20!

Yes, thank you. (...) People have a certain fixed notion. For that matter, even [with] Pataudi [palace], when my father [Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi] died, it got rented to Neemrana Hotels. Aman [Nath] and Francis [Wacziarg] used to run [the hotel]. Francis passed away. He'd said that if I wanted [the palace] back, I could let him know. I said: I want it back. They held a conference, and said, okay, you have to give us lots of money! (...) Which I then consequently earned. So, even the house I'm supposed to have inherited has been earned back through money from films. You can't live off the past. At least we can't in our family, because there was nothing. There is history, culture, beautiful photographs; and, of course, some land. It has been a privileged upbringing. But there's been no inheritance.

You moved to a rented apartment in Bombay, is that how it worked?

I was born and even raised in Bombay. My father lived with my mother in her [Carmichael Road] flat; I went to Cathedral, spent time in Bombay Gym - in a world more influenced by my father's, than films. He had just finished playing cricket. His last Test series was when I was four/five. My mother [actor Sharmila Tagore] says he was bunking his responsibilities. His mother was looking after things in Bhopal and Pataudi. She'd got old. So we moved to Delhi to live with her. It was a nice, big old house in Delhi, which she had been given for her lifetime, in return for land, property and other kinds of deals that these old [royal] families had made with the Indian government.

That'd be 1971 [when privy purses were abolished], right?

1971, exactly. So, that's why we moved to Delhi. I had fun. That was the generation of designers like Rohit Bal, Rohit Khosla, Ashish Soni... These were the first people I came across, doing something off-beat, in terms of art, culture. Which might have planted a seed [within me] to go and act in films!

You did start off with an ad.

My father sent me to an ad agency to get a job, because I was partying a lot.

Where were you partying?

In Ghunghroo [discotheque at Delhi's Maurya Sheraton]. It was fantastic. My father put me on a bus to an ad agency in Sunder Nagar. One of my jobs was to make religious calendars for Birlas. The only creative [call] was whether we should put Lord Vishnu in October, or November. I soon lost interest!

And the Gwalior ad happened?

Which, again, had to do with my father. My parents were shooting a Gwalior ad together. Honestly the way my upbringing was, the kind of life I'd had, or lack of confidence - I wasn't a cinematic figure, in terms of being shot in photos. I was effeminate, coy, shy, unsure, worst qualities for a...

A leading man?

As an actor in Bombay, yes. But not bad for a western, academic school-boy. That was a different culture altogether. So some quick learning was required.

And then you moved to Bombay. Where did you first rent a place?

In Lokhandwala; a building called Red Rose One. It was a small flat with cane furniture. The producer's daughter had very kindly done it up for me. Until one night I came home with friends, and couldn't open the bedroom door. She had locked it. I think she had a plan. There was a big gap between the door and carpet. I peeped from under, and could see her lying like a whale on my bed. And I thought I'm not going in there. So we went out again!

You began your career pretty much by yourself, and it was, I hear, a disastrous start! Take us through it?

So I went to a really academic, school - the oldest in England - Winchester. The idea [of being there] was obvious. You go to Oxford [or a similar place] thereafter. That hadn't worked out. I was in the black books of my parents, what with Delhi, partying and Ghungroo. I was getting scared. Because there was nothing I was interested in. After the Gwalior ad, when [director] Aanand Mahendroo mentioned a film [to me], bells started ringing. The thought of moving to Bombay sounded so exciting. I remember having that shower in Delhi, in that old house, which had funny water [plumbing], it wouldn't work half the time, and I'd fiddle with it, too hot or too cold...

Saif, you're digressing.

Sorry. Chipkalis [lizards] on the ceiling. Okay, stop! I remember that shower and being excited about a kind of life I could see - coming to Bombay, struggling, little rented flat, films, meeting people, collaborating... It is the only job that, from 18, when I started considering it seriously, I've always been passionate about.

Were you not a movie buff?

Yeah, but a western, as an American, movie-buff. When I was young and my mother [Sharmila Tagore] was an actor, I'd see her crying on screen. It's not something I enjoyed. Hindi films in the '70s were also overtly emotional.

So, Aanand Mahendroo...

He offers me this movie, and comes to Ghungroo. I tell my friends, "Hey guys, this is my director..." He has a couple of vodkas. The same guys tell me, "Bro, your director friend is in the bathroom [throwing up]!" I should've realised we were in a bit of trouble. We came to Bombay. Sattee Shourie was our producer. Then somebody told me a story about an ambitious film she had made called Farishtay [1991] with Vinod Khanna. There were panthers chasing him in a shot in that film. She ran out of money during shoot. In the same scene, when he [Khanna] comes around the corner, there are no panthers. Because no money. So, she got some dogs, and painted them black. This is after she had been kidnapped by a cab-union driver!

That was your first producer!

Yes, she used to pay me Rs 1,000 a week. And I'd have to kiss her 10 times on the cheek. Anyway, she had a fight with the director, and I got saved. Because the film got shelved. Then, Rahul Rawail cast me in his film.

And that was a disaster too?

Kamal Sadanah was in the movie. So he [Rawail] threw out Kamal, and took me - for no fault of Kamal's. And then found out that I was worse, and threw me out. And took him!

Apparently you showed up drunk on set, slept off...

You've done your research. But no, that's not true. Nobody turns up drunk on set. I was just not subservient, sitting around all day. There could've been some attitude problem, which I myself wasn't seeing. I [probably] didn't understand how serious things are. You might come across as really cocky, because you think it's really funny, when it's not.

Did you make friends easily in Bombay though?

I did. Many of them are producers now. Some of them are in LA. I remember Dileep Singh Rathore [Hollywood production manager for Blood Diamond, The Dark Knight Rises] and I used to do acting classes together. And we'd get asked to take our shirts off; another guy would do push-ups with his shirt off. All the things [work-place sensitisation] happening lately is good. This crap's been going on forever. Luckily, we were like, no bro, we're not doing this.

And then you finally debuted with Yash Chopra.

It is personal and I don't want to dwell much on it - I also ran away from home, and got married at 20. And I've to give Amrita [Singh], my ex-wife, credit for being the only person who taught me to take it all [work/show-business] seriously. She said you can't hit the target while laughing at it. That's when Parampara happened. Yashji called to say he was looking for a fourth lead, or something. I was like, great; yeah, anything. I'll do it. It's like investment in stock - if Yash Chopra is taking him in Parampara, [the industry believes] let's invest in this. For me, it was as simple as, this has to work. There's nothing else. That focus was required. And taught to me, and I inculcated.

If we watch retro Lehren [video-magazine] interviews from back then, it seems like you, now, and that guy are two different people!

I sometimes find myself doing the same stuff. Maybe I haven't changed! But it's an age, and exposure thing. Your upbringing, the culture you're given, and the academic grounding that teaches you to be humble, understated... They come flooding back later. Not when you were trying to fit in - giving gaalis, drinking Bacardi, being one of the boys in the '90s; and then you question: Do I want to be known like that? Or should I be comfortable about how I express? It's true for people. I've read characters in plays that are rebellious, and then embrace everything they rebelled against.

I meant more in terms of the duality between who you were as a person, and what you did [in terms of movies] in the '90s.

For sure. Because you had to fit into a certain mould in the '90s. There wasn't that much room for experimentation. Aamir Khan said he'll do max five films a year, when others were doing 15! Shakti Kapoor said he felt insecure when he didn't have 17 films on floor!

You still had some hits to keep you going though.

This is an organic kind of an industry. Like crude oil, you distil off at different temperatures. So people find their own level. And you need a certain amount of success to survive. So Parampara, the great Yashji film, didn't work. It was his 'safe' film after Lamhe didn't run. Aamir, who did Parampara, got offered Darr. I was the fourth lead. And got offered Yeh Dillagi, a smaller film, with Akshay Kumar also in it. But my role was fun, music was great, so I scored something there.

As a person, did it occur to you that you're not exactly that 'Ole Ole' fellow [from Yeh Dillagi]?

In fact that merge [of sensibilities] is happening now. Which is a sign of some civilisation. Earlier, what you do for a living had nothing to do with what you are [as a person]. The minute we're on set, we are equal; and just part of this thing, and it doesn't matter what... (...) A lot of these films in that time, had great music. That kind of helped [us] survive. You could be an audio hero. I think, I kind of was - quite presentable doing a lot of songs. As for performance, even a big star said, what is acting? Just say your lines in a sincere fashion! Which is how it remained for the longest. There was also the 'Mr Bachchan' hangover.

Dil Chahta Hai [DCH], in that sense, is obviously Saif 2.0.

I would have to say it is people like [director] Farhan [Akhtar] and Aamir Khan, who were effecting change, and I benefitted. I wasn't sure if I wanted to do DCH. I was the third lead, while playing hero in multiple films. Aamir asked me about films I was hero in. I named them. He said this film [DCH] is about three times the size of all those put together - Can you get on the page, it is good cinema, you have to do it. (...) When LOC, or a two-hero film happened, I'd think of Bud Spencer and Terence Hill. In my head there's nothing wrong with it. I've always been happy to compete with the other guy as well. I'm like - you might be the biggest star; but I am going to give you a run for your money. The idea of a buddy-movie was also being liked at the point.

After DCH, there appears to have emerged a certain confidence. How many Bollywood stars have attempted an English film? You did Being Cyrus [2006].

Also, Kaalakaandi [2018]. With Being Cyrus, there was the question of the English sounding natural. American is the language of our English. [Director] Homi [Adajania] wanted me to sound a little Indian. We had to get it right. This is what's happening today - guys who basically speak Hindi are better actors. Language is the thing. (...) Well that was the time when things were coming together. I was at the right place, and also looking like the right guy - it was no longer that funny haircut. Films like Omkara and interesting stuff with Yash Raj were coming together.

And you were killing it with the dialect in Omkara. Tough?

Kind of. But despite perception and projection, I am not actually English, you know! I have grown up in Pataudi, which is in Haryana. I have heard that dialect all my life.

Saif 3.0: You turn producer with Love Aaj Kal. I'm told [director] Imtiaz Ali offered you Rockstar first. True?

Yes, that's right! Of all the ideas, Love Aaj Kal just sounded a bit more commercial, although not the way he wanted to make it. He had quite a grim ending in mind, where this flaky guy finally returns to find out that his girl is eight-months' pregnant. We had to plead with him, until when we were on set in London, he said alright, we can have a happy ending!

Which makes sense, because by then you were the quintessential rom-com leading man; Bollywood's own Hugh Grant, as it were.

Yeah [Hugh Grant], I've heard Karan Johar say that as well. Don't know where it came from. I remember Aditya Chopra telling me that he's got Shah Rukh Khan, who's the king of box-office. That there's this thing called the 'multiplex hero' coming up. And that he's trying to get a handle on it. And he thinks that I could be that multiplex hero, because I'm a little different. Cast correctly, I should hit that genre. So he started making Hum Tum, Salaam|Namaste.

Rom-coms seem to have died altogether. In Hollywood, it's all Marvel anyway. And here...

My wife [Kareena Kapoor] told me that that genre has changed into [films like] Badhaai Ho. Don't know if true. Think she means the lead character, trying to figure out life in New York etc., is passé. Also, confusion, being unsure, a bit of a mess, is the hallmark of the rom-com hero. Because there is no villain. Villain is your flaky self. Which, maybe, doesn't fit well, when you're supposedly more grown-up. Maybe she [Kareena] just doesn't want to see me like that!

Still with [producer] Saif 3.0, you did a zombie-comedy [Go Goa Gone] in Bollywood -spoof/subversion of a genre, while we hadn't had a proper zombie film!

It seemed like a good, entertaining idea. Frankly I don't think I'm a great producer. What I love might not be everybody's cup of tea. A great producer can tell: Okay, this is a joke, as in an amazing, four-line anecdote; not a film. Or this is a film. Or this is a short-story/book. He can sort out different mediums. Within films, he should also be able to tell at what budget that story should be made. Don't think I have that ability.

[Referring to Sriram Raghavan's] Agent Vinod, that you wanted to make?

I made a mistake. I thought Jack Bauer from 24; so why not an Indian Agent Vinod? Apart from a complicated script, we missed out on the character's 'Indianness'. This guy was looking bit too western - dinner-jacket, suaveness. He should've been wearing chashma, holding a ball-pen...

Did you decide to shelve the film during its making?

No, again, Dinesh Vijan was [co-]producing. He is good at balancing stuff. What had happened was that we were shooting at a heritage site - action-sequence, with machine guns and all. We needed to blow up stuff. So we said, okay, there are a couple of beautiful, medieval temple structures...

No!

Of course not! We built replicas 100 yards away. The people there went nuts, suggesting that we were blowing up the complex. They stopped our shoot. We had to reschedule, scrap what we were doing, etc. But we managed.

Curious to know, why did you name your company Illuminati? Anything to do with the conspiracy-theory about a society of elites that secretly rules the world?

No. There was something about illumination and light. There's also the fact about Illuminati being a group of people, including Isaac Newton etc, who questioned authority of Church and talked about importance of secular knowledge. But, ultimately, 'Illuminati' is to illuminate. And that is what a film projector does. Johnny Depp had a production company called Infinitum Nihil - 'nothing is impossible'. And I used to look up to him. Now he's been replaced by Tom Hardy.

Why did you and [your co-producer] Vijan part ways?

Because Dinesh Vijan is on his way to becoming a big film-producer. I wanted someone to run my production company. Which is fair. That's why people usually leave. I don't want to make films for 20 other people. I see myself as more of an actor.

In Cocktail, you did offer the lead role to other people.

We did. I only stepped into Cocktail, because Ranbir [Kapoor] and Imran [Khan] didn't want to do it. So I said, okay, I'll do it. They should remember that.

Stepping into Saif 4.0: Your entire career put together would be the polar opposite of the subdued Sartaj Singh from Sacred Games [on Netflix]. Conscious call?

It's got a lot to do with [director/show-runner] Vikram Motwane. On Day One, we were in Madh Island. Distance wise, this was painful for me, before the ferry, I realised... (...) I was doing an investigation scene. And he [Motwane] said, cut, and just told me to bring my energy levels down: "You're too hyper!" It was a different kind of communication from anything I had done before - the feeling of trusting the camera, and not showing what you feel. It was the first piece of film I had ever worked on with that thehraav.

You've been talking about unlearning, reading acting books etc, something you didn't do before.

But before that, a little bit of background. Which is about the way we were brought up in the movies. I don't know about Dilip Kumar Saab, and Amitabh Bachchan. But after the '60s and '70s, there was a creative slump, where the attitude with cool guys was: We don't talk about acting, work... Who learns lines? It was like how we used to laugh at nerdy kids in school. People used to wonder why Aamir is taking things seriously - there was just this whole attitude of 'unseriousness'. There was a glamour and starry vibe. It certainly wasn't about prepping for work, which has changed.

You were the first Bollywood star to green-light a web series. And you said no to Homeland, is that true?

Well, I was asked to read for Homeland, which I did, and then asked to come down to LA or New Zealand to read some more. I could have pursued it more aggressively. But I was busy here. I remember [daughter] Sara [Ali Khan] helping me a lot, people getting excited. But it wasn't a great part. It wasn't the main lead. The part went to an Etonian [Damien Lewis]. Now you can't have a Winchester boy playing [second fiddle to an Etonian]!

Would Sacred Games be the first time your school-friends watched your work?

Yes, good point. And they are quite academic, and say things like, it's really interesting that a Muslim guy plays Sardar, and in this kind of world, that's good contribution!

(Audience) Pacing of Sacred Games 2 came under question. What did you make of it?

I didn't like the second season as much as I liked the first, which was the newest and most interesting thing I had ever seen on TV, from any country. It was a mafia show with a disturbed cop. But it [Season 2] became a bit esoteric and slow, with the treatment of the guru with Gaitonde.

'I did not like Sacred Games Season 2,' reads like a headline!

But, you know, I didn't. We were in England. It was my birthday [when the season dropped]. Five of us had rented a country-cottage, including a South American book publisher friend of mine, who also speaks a bit of Hindi, loves different cultures. We opened a bottle of Champagne, got Netflix on...

That was your premiere.

Yes. We didn't even tell Kareena. And we sat. After a while I said, okay, I'll watch this on my own later. That didn't happen with Season 1. I shouldn't probably say this.

(Audience) In [Raghavan's] Ek Hasina Thi [EHT], you play the most believable f***boy. How did you pull it off?"

I was just happy to play something cooler, and darker. (...)

What happened in the second half of EHT, though. You think it went a little berserk?

It did. Sriram and I have gone berserk a couple of times [laughs]. And then he does Andhadhun [without me]! I don't mean to sell Sriram out, but he paints himself into a corner, and then tries to write himself out of it. Which is great. But might not always work, although the good stuff about EHT outweighed...

The first half was killer.

Yeah.

(Audience) You've often gravitated towards morally corrupt characters. Does that give you more room?

I'm just interested in those situations, more than glory of God. Hrithik, for example, suits a Ram-like character.

What role did you play in Hum Saath - Saath Hain?

Krishna - he's a naughty little version. Salman was Ram. I found it exhausting. One of the most tiring things is to be so happy and positive all the time. And Sooraj-ji [Barjatya] used to say, "Do it your way. But smile!"

How different is it to work with, say, Abbas-Mustan, from Sooraj Barjatya?It took me a while to figure out Abbas-Mustan. Mustan Bhai would give instructions. (...) Then there's Hussain Bhai, the third brother, who is unsung - one of the best editors. He probably contributed the most to films like Race. They'd start shoot at 10 am, wrap at 5 pm. Love these guys, easiest shoot ever.

They never shoot nights.

They just can't. Then Akshaye Khanna told me that I was behaving like a star with them. That I'm not hugging them enough. That I should hang out, and give them more love! I went to their room at Hilton, in South Africa. There was a white sheet on the floor they were sitting on, and having whiskey and peanuts. They asked me to join in. I sat there for a bit. At some point, they told me I don't have to do this [socialising], if I don't want to - just turn up on set, do my bit. That was great relief. We got along really well after. With Sooraj-ji, I just remember the sheer number of people coming to see him on set, touching his feet - from top heroine to struggling actresses.

Just to say hi on set?

In the most charming way! I remember Rekhaji coming to see him, and she's senior. That's power. And distributors would throw themselves at their feet on set, asking when's the film out, that there's a drought in theatres. They [Barjatyas] were the princes of the film industry. I remember Salman telling Sooraj-ji [about HSSH], "Do you think you'll give a hat-trick? It's quite rare." And I'm like, God, who talks to him like that! So, Abbas-Mustan and Rajshris are different sides of a coin.

Can't imagine Barjatyas on the floor, with booze and chakna.

Definitely, around the table, eating together. No, drinking, that's impossible!

Last question: You've been vocal about issues all along. But when the #MeToo movement happened, it seemed like you didn't say much, or anything; especially given that the head of the company managing you was accused.

But I said so much about #MeToo. Never heard? It's disgusting to make a workplace hostile. Whatever is happening is really good. I don't think there's any smoke without fire. But sometimes they [survivors] have to come forward. You have to. And we have to support these women. [At the same time] a guy's career can be destroyed, without any proof. So there are two things. You've got to be a little sure, before you destroy somebody, in any way. Also, whether it is a sign of our culture - we take down one or two juicy targets, that nobody really minds plucking out. Nobody touches the big boys! I don't know how civilised that is'.