For long, I’ve nursed this pet theory. Our actors, so very often, are superior to the material assigned to them. Prime example: Amitabh Bachchan in his Caesar salad days, who would make even turgid stuff endurable like Nastik (not his favourite) and Jadugar, to cite just two random turnips. And in an interview, he had pointed out that a Bombay movie actor has to be a Marlon Brando, John Travolta and Sylvester Stallone, rolled into one. Quite.
Post-Bhootnath and Aladin (yaargh), Bachchan Sr may not be the same actor. But on Kaun Banega Crorepati, he’s still Big Boss. Diction, Composure, Eye Contact, Cool Body Lingo, High Drama and Self-Deprecation, he exudes them all. And I’m bringing Mr Bachchan up, because last week I witnessed a stirring performance which affirmed that a film may not be perfect (far from it), but its actor can be.
That’s Farhan Akhtar as Milkha Singh, despite being over-age. The athlete was 25 during the time zone depicted in Rakeysh Om Prakash Mehra’s Bhaag Milkha Bhaag. The director-actor is 39. Now I wouldn’t call his performance as a feat of method acting entirely. There’s something indefinable, an elusive quality in Farhan which precludes the requisites of star value or a poster-boy-like screen presence.
That, in fact, facilitates his versatility, in parts as diverse as that of a repressed musician (Rock On!), a schizophrenic (Kartik Calling Kartik), and the underpup of an Euro-holidaying trio (Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara). And there was that self-serving Bollywood struggler in Luck By Chance, an inspired enactment which didn’t get its due attention because the film tanked, unjustly.
Without a doubt, Bhaag Milkha Bhaag is his most accomplished act yet, yoking physical grit to emotional density. That Farhan went through intensive training in sport, induction into the armed forces regimen, and familiarisation with Milkha Singh’s persona, are a given. To the homework, he has invested an inborn intelligence, re-living the real-life hero as if it were his graduation day as an actor.
To be sure, Farhan’s voice could do with more pitch and power, but he makes this weakness an asset. Result: The screenplay’s most melodramatic passages are held under check. No brimstone, and fiery dialogue baazi here. Clearly, Farhan can inhabit two worlds — acting and direction — and excel in both. A first for Bollywood.
This decade’s jaw-dropping performances would include Vidya Balan’s no inhibitions-barred incarnation of Silk Smitha in The Dirty Picture. Going beyond the hat-trick, she asserted her mettle with Ishqiya, Paa and No One Killed Jessica, the Smitha bio and then Kahani. A formidable score. And if she scored a duck with Ghanchakkar, the faster it’s deleted from the memory files, the better.
Another knockout act from 2010-onwards would be Irrfan Khan as Paan Singh Tomar. Displaying contained anger and a baleful glare, he recreated the story of the athlete-turned-dacoit, in a project which may have been low-to-medium budget but rich in its storytelling craft and acting pyrotechnics. Indeed, Irrfan Khan’s biodata can boast of quite a few achievements — like Haasil, Life in a Metro and The Namesake. He achieved recognition belatedly, after being overlooked in arthouse films like Govind Nihalani’s Drishti. Guess delays happens.
And for the last but by no means the least wow performance of the decade, so far, I’d end with Ranbir Kapoor’s in Rockstar. Although the film wasn’t cohesive, and its editing went chip-chop, Ranbir’s angst-ridden act leapt out of the screen. And a superstar was born.
Do it again, guys. Just don’t ever go ghanchakkar.