Rajit Kapur is forver at ease, irrespective of the medium he dabbles in. Be it theatre, films or television, he has emoted both on stage as well as screen — whether big or small. Kapur, with his dignified elegance, is fondly dubbed a Shyam Benegal favourite. He is best remembered for his movies like Benegal’s milestone magnum opus The Making of the Mahatma which won him a National Award for his stellar execution of the eponymous role, besides the master director’s trilogy — Mammo, Sardari Begum and Zubeidaa — Bose: The Forgotten Hero or Suraj Ka Satwan Ghoda, based on Dharmavir Bharati’s novel of the same title. Other landmark releases from his rich repertoire read Ghulam, The Whisperers, Morning Walk, Well Done Abba and Blue Oranges. Commanding his own time and space with his superb acting prowess, Kapur’s portrayal of a middle-class Bengali sleuth Byomkesh Bakshi on primetime Doordarshan made him a household name. Currently stealing eyeballs with his Sherlock Holmes act in yet another private-eye whodunit — Gumshuda by reputed filmmaker Ashoke Vishwanathan — Kapur, as Wacko, has been impressively cracking clues and chasing culprits, close to their heels.

Excerpts from an interview:

Browse Back to Byomkesh

This reticent, ordinary, intellectual Bengali sleuth scripted a runaway success story for me. Clad in a pleated dhoti-kurta, with bespectacled gelled-hair looks that typically spelt of a quintessential Bangalee bhadralok avatar, detective Byomkesh Bakshi earned me a household name overnight. The eponymous television series was based on the character penned by eminent Bengali litterateur Sharadindu Bandyopadhyaya and directed by renowned filmmaker Basu Chatterjee. Covering the primetime slot on Doordarshan, the serial would be aired weekly, only to leave the audience much agog. In fact, assessing its popularity and repeat value, the case-file series was later on beamed over several satellite channels too. What worked in its favour in the early ’90s was its middle-class simplicity, integrity, a sense of no-frills style and heartfelt honesty. People could easily identify with its palpable realism. Add to this, the imminent media explosion which was still waiting in the wings on its threshold and the floodgates were yet to open up for other private parties to get a breakthrough. As a result, the national network still exercised its monopoly in capturing the collective mindspace then. I still remember that a shopkeeper at our local chemist store would invariably down his shutters sharp at 9 pm, only to catch the serial religiously. He was an avid fan of Byomkesh Bakshi. One night, I just happened to visit his shop to buy some medicines from there only to be gently refused by him. “Apka serial ab anewala hai. Sorry mujhe dukaan bandh karna parega. I’ll send you the medicines later,” the salesman made no bones in telling me.

Bonding with Basuda

He is distinguished filmmaker Basu Chatterjee to the rest of the world, but I fondly call him Basuda. He is a gem of a person and is a man with a Midas touch. He could turn any given piece of work into gold with his magic wand, which is his decent artistic representation. He is closer home to the core of reality and its soulful sentiments which are more effective on minds than the larger-than-life trappings of glamour and gimmick. In Byomkesh’s case, he remained sincerely true to the character’s pure Bengalibabu image created by the writer. On one side of the coin, he was portrayed as a hard-boiled private eye, while the flip facet clearly showed his foppishly romantic and a family-man angle. Unlike his clique, Byomkesh unabashedly cast of his bachelorhood and was happily married to his lady love Satyabati. But he never gave up his quest for finding the needle of suspect and motive in a haystack of crimes. He was by far a rebellious detective, who unusually treaded the conjugal path. Byomkesh happened to me by fluke. May be it was meant to be. Actually, Basuda had watched me playing the renowned 19th century baptised Bengali poet and dramatist Michael Madhusudan Dutt in a socio-centric serial called Yugantar, a period piece by Shubhankar Ghosh based on yet another ace Bengali novelist, Sunil Gangopadhyay’s best-selling story Shei Shomoy. He liked my performance and his own helmed project fell in my kitty.

the appeal continues

Thanks to the immense popularity of the show these days, I am getting to hear that people are even downloading the serial Byomkesh from the Internet. Despite the diminishing attention span in this age of flooding frothy daily soaps amidst a bombarding bouquet of channels, Byomkesh has astonishingly stood the test of times and still remains vivid in the public memory even after these 17 long years. I have been even informed about the first six episodes of the serial being damaged and I guess, the first five were simply brilliant. Recently, I was invited to deliver a talk about the youth of India in Bhopal. Even there, I met a guy who informed me about this negligence. The episode titled Cycle Ki Ghanti was one of the best I can recall.

In the Shoes of Sherlock

Now this role is diametrically opposite to what I played as Byomkesh. Other than cracking codes, solving murder cases and nabbing culprits, the Punjabi private-eye Prakash Sehgal is a complete antithesis of Byomkesh. Ashoke (Vishwanathan) is the best man to cite reasons behind drafting in me to step into Holmes’ shoes and slip into his psyche for his Hindi avatar in the just released movie Gumshuda. At the very outset, I was pretty sure about steering clear of any more crime-hound’s roles since that might sniff of a possibility of getting typecast. I just desisted playing another detective. Period. But in Blue Oranges, which released last year, had a different approach and a novel take on solving criminal cases. A kurta-clad gentleman was shown unravelling mysteries just for the lark and not racking his brains like a seasoned pro. Gumshuda’s Prashant Sehgal is rather passionate about tracking cons and felons. It was actually a complete image makeover for me. First and foremost, it was Ashoke’s pestering persuasion that squeezed out a nod of consent from me. I was very particular about turning my hat off to decline his proposal. But shying away from the kirdaar would be a grave mistake for sure. The transformation in Prashant highlighted in his fun-loving disposition. A well-read, club-hopping, suit-jacket-hat worn, Oxford-bred graduate sleuth, who loved to chill out and smoke pipe at the parties, was my brief to the role. Although he is quirky like Holmes and speaks fluent English like him but unlike his western counterpart, he abstained from cocaine absolutely. With shades of Ashoke’s autobiographical elements steeped into its characterisation, the film’s outdoor shooting spot sealed the deal for me. The location was Shillong and I couldn’t resist its beckoning. I always wanted to visit this idyllic site and bathe in its beauty that enticed me so much.

Benegal Benediction

By a sheer stroke of luck, I bumped into the illustrious Shyam Benegal a good 18 monsoons ago in 1992. We were doing a popular play called Love Letters in March, the same year at the foyer area of the Grindlay’s Bank in Mumbai. The drama was just an experimental piece. After the play culminated, the filmmaker extraordinaire seated in the audience gallery came backstage and told me precisely: “I’ll call you tomorrow.” And he did keep his word the next morning. A modesty personified man that he is, Benegalsaab was too humble enough to keep the script of Suraj Ka Satwan Ghoda open in front of my eyes on his desk. Normally, in order to reach a person of his stature, one has to pass through his second or third assistant or a posse of unworthy middlemen. I was okayed for the film and ever since, the association continued unabated till date. I have been one among those few fortunates to bag a part in practically most of Benegal’s feature films. While offering me a one-scene long minuscule but relevantly significant role of a collector in his critically acclaimed movie, Welcome to Sajjanpur, Benegalsaab was surprisingly hesitant and even asked me to have the liberty to refuse him on his face. But I immediately took a flight, did the scene and came back, unable to oppose an opportunity of grabbing a tryst with the genius once again. I can even stand still as a statue in his movies without mouthing a dialogue in a frame. He has an aura that transits energy into you. A short stint with the director is a good learning experience as well. For a Benegal film, the size and length of a role doesn’t matter. What does is the quality of substance which allures an actor like bees to honey.

Role Reckon

I politely turn down inane, mindless offers which lack challenge to push the envelope further. One has to raise the bar with his widely ranged performances and a plethora of various roles that he dons with the greasepaint. Temptation to make money is not the ultimate goal of a true blue artist. Similarly, gaining a maximum mileage out of lead protagonists is a selfish act on an actor’s part. One can win applauds and awards even in a blink and you miss screen-space.

Weekly over Daily

Well, it’s always a tug of war between weekly serials and daily soaps, when it comes to settle for one. Look, am not averse to daily serials but I’m preferably more attuned to once-a-week affair than making frequent appearances on the tube. The logistics of a daily mega-soap doesn’t work for me. To me, a weekly programme is more interesting. It has an element of excitement attached to it. All said and done, you need to give audience some time to absorb and mull over the matter that they watch on a regular basis.

on the anvil

An array of four to five films is due for release. Monica is a political thriller, revolving around the muck-raking of Shivani Bhatnagar murder case. With a talented starcast on board, actors Divya Dutta and Ashutosh Rana have been roped in to do the honours. Veteran actress Deepti Naval’s directorial debut Do Paise Ki Dhoop, Chaar Aane Ki Baarish is a relationship-based movie.
It also stars Manisha Koirala. DAM 999, is an upcoming 3D Hollywood flick that pays a befitting tribute to the 2,50,000 forgotten souls who perished in the world’s worst man-made disaster ever.

An international endeavour made by the Mariners and directed by Sohan Roy, the movie is based on a real-life incident, a dam disaster in 1975 that killed several Chinese citizens. Packed with emotions, this much-touted flick will see an assortment of actors both from India and Hollywood. Another whodunit in the pipeline with co-star Jimmy Shergill is titled Marega Saala.
Thing for Theatre:
After performing I’m not Baji Rao for nine years ceaselessly, we decided to call it quits, as we lost our lead actor. As a performing artiste, I feel we are all puppets in the director’s hands who hold the strings and make us dance to his tunes. I’ve been continuously performing several stage shows of Love Letters with the gifted actress Shernaz Patel. We are a trio comprising of myself, Shernaz and well-known theatre practitioner Rahul Da Cunha, having forged a theatrical collaboration called One on One. In the dramatic domain, we are collectively known as Rage. Another interesting project is in the offing where a clutch of writers, actors and directors will be involved to lend fruition to an amalgam of over a dozen sagas, strung together to bead a single necklace. It will be a collage of contemporary India with diverse creative minds assembled to connect like a melting pot of ideas. Called a Writer’s Block programme, it will be a joint venture between BCL and the prestigious Royal Court Theatre of London. Come October will see the phase one of this cultural production.