At 75, Amitabh Bachchan is everywhere. If your roof is leaking, he is your Dr Fix-it. If your head is spinning, he is the masseur with the cool, cool oil. He will mildly admonish the open defecators, and explain why GST is such a great idea. Every weekday he is on KBC, much like a neighbourhood uncle casually dropping by.
If you missed him on TV, you might try Twitter where he has over 30 million followers, more than any of the Khans, averaging a manic 20 tweets a day. Or delve into his current thoughts in his longrunning blog on Tumblr. He’s on the big screen too — plotting politics (Sarkar 3, 2017), telling the world why a woman’s ‘no’ means ‘no’ (Pink, 2016) or just obsessing over his bowel movements (Piku, 2015), often to critical and commercial acclaim.
With advancing age, work schedules ease. It’s biology. But Bachchan seems to be on an anti-aging potion that only the wizards of Hogwarts could have brewed. As social scientist Shiv Visvanathan says, “He has done everything he wanted to do. And he is still doing them. Bachchan is the perennial man.” At the heart of his blockbuster career are a bunch of skills. First, the ability to transcend his own class background in his screen pro- jections. Second, a gift for constantly reinventing himself. Third, his relentless drive, discipline and professionalism. And that too with a liver that functions at only 25%, a sad fallout of contaminated blood that he received after the life-threatening Coolie injury.
Son of a reputed litterateur (Harivansh Rai Bachchan), Amitabh’s family had close ties with the NehruGandhi family. He went to a public school (Sherwood College, Nainital) and worked as an executive in a British firm (Bird and Company) in Calcutta. With his refined background, the actor seemed an unlikely candidate for venting underclass anger. Yet his most remembered performances came in Zanjeer, Deewaar, Trishul, and Kaala Patthar (all scripted by Salim-Javed), playing strong and silent men who locked themselves in and only let out their pentup fury when compelled.
Deewaar’s rebellious dockyard worker who becomes a smuggler epitomised ‘the angry young man’. The rebellion was personal, not social. Yet, at a time when young India was agitating against corruption, price rise and unemployment via the JP movement, the tall, lean and hands-on hero, who believed that the ends justified the means, touched a chord.
Gentler roles, especially in the Hrishikesh Mukherjee ‘family’ movies, endeared him to the gentry. In Amar Akbar Anthony (1977) and Don (1978), he delivered a wider entertainment package, adding comedy and dancing to his repertoire. In Don, Laawaris and Namak Halaal, he injected a dash of regional flavours: Avadhi, Mumbaiya, Haryanvi and Hyderabadi, widening his national appeal.
Bachchan was on top of Everest Bollywood when the Coolie accident happened in 1982. The actor came back strongly with two mega-hits: Coolie (1983) and Sharabi (1984). He dabbled in politics too, becoming a Lok Sabha MP from Allahabad in 1984.
Post-1985, his screen persona seemed to stagnate. The hits kept coming but the scripts felt recycled. Age too seemed to creeping up on that middle-aged face. Bachchan could still carry off a wellwritten movie but no longer salvage a rudderless venture — Gangaa Jamunaa Saraswathi, Mrityudaata and Laal Badshah to name some. His corporate venture, ABCL, al- so flopped. Increasingly, Bachchan appeared to be out of tune with the times.
KBC rescued him. Till then, the big stars shunned the small screen; being on TV was like being downgraded by a credit ratings agency. Amitabh expanded it to 70mm. His style–chatty and empathetic, laced with impeccable Hindi — made him TV’s No. 1primetime host. “Computerji, lock kiya jaaye” became a stock phrase like Sholay’s “arrey o Sambha”. And he is still there in Season 9. Says Siddhartha Basu, CMD of Big Synergy Media which produces KBC, “Seventeen years on, even after 686 episodes of KBC, his appetite for excellence and the slog he puts into each session remains undimmed.”
In the marketplace, Brand Bstands for reliability and durability— a potent combo that makes him the most prolific pedlar of products— from Lloyd to Just Dial to Gujarat Tourism. And that’s despite his name figuring in the Panama papers, though he has denied any wrongdoing.
Kaun Banega Crorepati has probably made him an arabpati. And next year, he will share screen space with Aamir Khan in Thugs of Hindostan. Nearly five decades on —the three Khans were four years old or less when his debut film, Saat Hindustani, was released in 1969 — Bachchan is still on top of his game.
At 75, Amitabh Bachchan seems to be telling everybody, buddhahogaterabaap.
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