Khalid Mohamed

Producers, dear friends, are a necessary evil. Without them, there would be no movies. And indeed, why should producers be interested in any factor but profits-profits-profits?

Fine, that makes perfect sense. The snag is that of late, the producer clan’s greed level has zoomed up to astral heights. The ruling mantra is profits, at least 10 times over.
Err... apologies for starting out on a sombre note this Sunday. That was a mere prelude to the wacko complications that ensue during the making of a project which a director has devoted more love to than to his or her own children and pet animals.
Like it happened to a dear friend of mine last month. Bamboozled into directing a blend of sex, comedy and action, he found the producer cuter than a frisky pomeranian... till the filming began.
The producer was a mere camouflage, it seems. The cash was coming in from a much-married nouveau riche businessman who’s quite crazy about his girlfriend. She was cast in the lead naturally but couldn’t act for nuts or bolts. Alarmingly, she believed herself to be a god-made fusion of Meryl Streep and Katrina Kaif, and wasn’t happy with the hero, from the theatre world, assigned to her. “I need a Ranbir Kapoor to match my talent,” huffed she.
The director tore the surviving strands of his hair. Expectedly, the film was canned after a fortnight’s shoot. RIP? Not really, the director wants to be paid for his sleepless days and nights. Meanwhile, Meryl Kaif, is harassing her darling businessman to talk to Ranbir Kapoor. If not, to Ayushmann Khurrana at least. Suspense! Will this Vicky Donor agree to help out the aborted project?
Hardly likely. Every actor, from A to Zzzz, is aware that money flows from the barrel of stardom. There was a time when the sparky Pankaj Parashar told me that since he begets the support of Anil Kapoor, he needn’t be worried about finance. Sanjay F Gupta, I’d seen hanging around at the office of Rakesh Roshan, as soon as Kaho Na Pyaar Hai was adjudged a monster hit. If Gupta could get Roshan Jr to sign on the dotted line (there’s no such thing in contracts), his life would be made. Junior didn’t. Sanjay F Gupta’s life went on to be made by old pal Sanjay Dutt. Cool.
The moral of this story is: no star, no money. Gangs of Wasseypur is wonderful cinema but to graduate to the next level, even Anurag Kashyap is waiting for Ranbir Kapoor (yup, he’s seriously happening) to start a project titled Blue Velvet.
Next moral: A filmmaker, even if he has just retired from a career of begging on the streets, must insist on a contract. I know of a dialogue writer who wouldn’t pen a single line till he was given his Vitamin M. Huh? By that he meant Vitamin Money.
The rolling-in-crores producer (whom I will describe as Producer No. 1 and hope you get it) sent him a bundle, but the director was treated more inventively.
The producer’s wife tied a raakhi on the director’s wrist on the morning he asked for the contract. Producer No. 1 was affronted, his voice trembled, “You don’t have faith in me? After all, you are now family.” The newly-minted sister sent the director home with laddoos (never fall for this) and packets of noodle soup imported from Singapore. The producer continued to avoid the contract, the director wasn’t paid, and the film made a decent pile of profits.
So look before you leap into filmmaking. Or you could land up in a noodle soup.