Column

For someone who is supposedly in the midst of a war with the media, Amitabh Bachchan has been quite liberal in giving interviews. Every news outlet boasts of a Bachchan exclusive, and he manages to make each one of them sound interesting and readable.

That’s the thing with Bachchan — he is a professional who realises what his job demands and he is a consummate actor who knows how to switch it on. The awed reporter goes back convinced he got a great interview, something that nobody has ever managed to get.

A film’s marketing requires stars to liberally meet the press, but they are confined to keeping their remarks limited to the film and its theme. No silly questions about personal relationships or wider issues. So if the film is a fantasy, the actor will talk about genies and if it’s about deep sea diving, they will gush about how they’ve always wanted to go underwater. Since Bachchan’s next is about a man who has an affliction that turns him into a 13-year-old, naturally, the current batch of interviews are centred on childhood.

Reading one of Bachchan’s interviews the other day, I was struck by something he said. He talked about his teen years, recalling that he read Billy Bunter books and loved watching Laurel and Hardy films. He particularly mentioned The Flying Deuces, which anyone who is a Laurel and Hardy fan will recall as a particularly funny one. Made in 1939, it’s about the two becoming fliersin the French Foreign Legion and is full of patently ridiculous situations that were a hallmark of their movies.

A charming bit of nostalgia, but it made me wonder: Will they strike a bell with any filmgoer today? Laurel and Hardy have disappeared from current consciousness. It may be somewhat non-PC to laugh at the antics of one fat (sorry, horizontally challenged) and one thin and dimwitted fellow. But more than that, would kids today find them funny at all?

I speak from some experience. Like most fond parents, I tried to get my kids to watch some of the funnier films by the comic duo. The black and white format was something that was so alien and unique, that initially they were fascinated by it, but soon they lost interest. There was a laugh or two halfway, but then they got bored. Ditto with Charlie Chaplin. Even the famous shoelace eating scene in The Gold Rush did not tickle them beyond a point. I quietly admitted defeat.

Now I can rationalise to say that for the child of today, two bozos in all kinds of predicaments is no basis for humour. And what’s so great about a tramp who has to get by with his wits anyway? But the bitter fact is that the pace of old cinema doesn’t jell with today’s generation, used as they are to quick cuts, fast moving action, broad humour that spells it all out and most of all to garish colour. Laurel and Hardy are passé by a long shot.

Which makes me wonder: Do all movies have a cross-generational appeal? The films we call classics — would they work at the box office today? Take Mother India, considered one of the all time greats — would a bunch of youngsters be able to sit through it? The slow pace would probably put them to sleep, but they might also want to know why those rural losers whine so much instead of getting themselves a good job. Make a list of films that you enjoyed 30 years ago or are respected by all, and ask-would you spend a relaxed Sunday afternoon watching them?

The same applies to books, art and perhaps people too. Classics have to be venerated and revered, but from afar. Get too close and disillusionment sets in. But reinterpreting and reinventing to make them connect with a newer, younger audience can keep the idea alive. Our mythological and religious texts like the Mahabharata and Ramayana are around because each period retold the stories in current lingo, with a fresh approach while keeping the core values intact.

Amitabh Bachchan himself is a fine example of reinvention. A brooding hero who became a metaphor of his times, turned older but also cooler (Sexy Sam), was a success on the emerging medium of satellite television (KBC) and continues to churn out movies and promote products as diverse as cement and chocolate. Many of his recent films are creative disasters, but we can see how he is exploring new possibilities all the time. He is already blogging away with more energy than his younger compatriots. He can chuckle over the silly antics of Billy Bunter and Laurel and Hardy without appearing fuddy duddy and outdated. All this without compromising his core values as a professional. Will we be able to say that about many of our contemporary stars 25 years down the line?