Glowing obeisance was paid to Steven Spielberg by Bollywood when he visited showtown, earlier this week. The original “movie brat” appeared to be way more upbeat — since the first time he was in India, circa 1976, to film a sequence for Close Encounters of the Third Kind — at a village on the Mumbai outskirts.
At the age of 66, he has aged gracefully, dropped quotable quotes effortlessly and was congenial with the press, declaring that he liked 3 Idiots — a statement which caused its director Raj Kumar Hirani to go tongue-tied on meeting him face-to-face. Deservedly, Spielberg was lionised. And his host Anil Ambani, the co-founder of the Oscar-feted Lincoln, made his credentials known to one and all, as a movie moghul on the ascent.
Spielberg’s mega-success — hard-earned through four decades and more — has earned him mega-adulation. Ironically, though, when he was in Mumbai for the Close Encounters… shoot he was royally ignored. Sugarland Express and Jaws had already made him a phenomenon when he was in his 20s, but in those video-deprived days, these films had not made waves in India. They hadn’t been released at the cinema halls since Hollywood products took years to make it to India, unlike today when the flashiest of blockbusters can be seen at own multiplexes in sync with their world premieres.
In retrospect, the evening hosted way back in 1976 by Indian representatives of Columbia studio for the press and showbiz — at the Presidential Suite of the Taj Mahal Hotel — rings with irony. The French filmmaker, Francois Truffaut, who portrayed a scientist on the trail of UFOs, in Close Encounters… was the centre of attraction, while Spielberg hung out, alone, in the balcony studying the oceanfront.
Simi Garewal had swanned in to the suite, in her trademark swirl of white, and stuck to Truffaut like a burr. Interviews with the French new wave master weren’t on, only general chitter-chatter was permissible. Following complaints from editors of various publications, Uma Da Cunha, film liaison officer, organised a round-table meeting with a very articulate Truffaut. At the end of a two-hour session, he inquired, “How come no one’s talking to Steve?”
Perhaps because readers would not have been interested in Spielberg then. From trade accounts, when his films did get here, they didn’t strike up whopping ticket sales. The scene altered with Raiders of the Lost Ark and the godpapa of all special effects spectaculars Jurassic Park, which was dubbed into various Indian languages. Incidentally, the sequel of Raiders of the Lost Ark — Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom — wasn’t permitted to be shot in India. In the event, Sri Lanka turned out to be one of its primary locations. Featuring Amrish Puri as an outlandish baddy, the depiction of cannibalism sparked the hackles of the Censor Board, leading to its ban.
One story that has been almost forgotten is that the legendary Satyajit Ray was extremely miffed with the story premise of Close Encounters… He had submitted a script titled Alien to a Hollywood studio. Marlon Brando had been approached to play a leading role. But the project didn’t fructify.
Ray felt that Spielberg’s film bore glaring similarities to his stillborn script. Is Spielberg even aware of this? Whether he is or not, this could have been a controversy-clearing question addressed to him. But then, that would have been uncomfortable and let’s say, rude to a filmmaker who seemed to be in town on a goodwill mission — besides announcing that a project on the India-Pakistan border is on the boil at his DreamWorks studio. The director, the cast and the technical team haven’t been finalised yet. Admittedly, the announcement does sound promising, since no filmmaker of international stature has
chosen to approach the subject to date.
That Spielberg still has his hand on the pulse of global viewers is, indeed, remarkable. By comparison, his fellow-brats of the’70s George Lucas and Francis Ford Coppola — with astounding track records — aren’t as prolific or as popular as he is any more. The child in Spielberg survives, whether he confects fluffy entertainers (Catch Me If You Can, The Adventures of Tintin), or crafts serious works recalling the tragedies of wartime (Schindler’s List, Saving Private Ryan), the spectre of terrorism (Munich), and critiques of subjugation and slavery (Color Purple, Amistaad, Lincoln).
The Oscarati hasn’t been exactly indulgent with Spielberg. No doubt, he won the coveted Director’s trophy for Schindler’s List and Saving Private Ryan. And this year, he was the frontrunner for the Best Director Oscar for Lincoln. In a surprise move, the honour went to Ang Lee for Life of Pi.
But such are the perils of filmmaking. Spielberg is a household name the world over today. Bollywood broke into cartwheels over him. And to think there was a time when he stood in solitude on the balcony of a hotel in Mumbai, gazing at the oceanfront.

The writer is a journalist, film critic and film director