‘Zanjeer’ was released forty two years ago. It was not Amitabh Bachchan’s debut on-screen but the film with which he was anointed the ‘angry young man’. It was the beginning of the end of Rajesh Khanna’s box-office reign. The villains in Kaka’s films were innocuous parents opposing love. It’s all a cycle and a change was overdue. So here was a hero who fought smugglers, corrupt politicians and generally society’s scum. Audiences applauded and his popularity grew with every release. He had a towering screen presence with a baritone to match that dwarfed fellow performers. His stardom was fraught with the frills of fame. There were murmurs of raging affairs with co-stars, a prolonged period of parting with the press, a near death experience, a brief fling with politics after which he termed it a ‘cesspool’ and near bankruptcy which probably turned him into the workaholic that he’s today.
From playing an upright cop in ‘Zanjeer’ to reprising the role of a garrulous, constipated hypochondriac in ‘Piku’, Amitabh has come a long way. There was a time when he seldom veered off the oft taken path making exceptions only for Hrishikesh Mukerjee who gave him some of his finest roles and Yash Chopra, Switzerland’s unofficial ambassador in India. There was a brilliant actor, dormant, untapped and waiting to be unleashed. It’s after he made an effortless transition from cardboard cut-out to author backed characters that he’s sinking his teeth in and enjoying himself. The pressure of performing at the box-office no longer dangles like a Damocles sword. His performance as Bhashkor Banerjee in ‘Piku’ is his finest in a long time, his overrated acts in ‘Black’ and ‘Shamitabh’ included.
Hindi cinema has reached a stage where films solely dependent on multiplex audiences can be made. Their reach is so wide. This has resulted in little gems being made with a confidence that filmmakers elsewhere cannot afford. How else would films like ‘Queen’, ‘NH 10’ and ‘Piku’ be produced confidently? Scripts no longer necessarily need be male centric. It’s hey day for actors like Kangana, Deepika and Anoushka. They play characters that are neither doormats or just the hero’s darling. The result is that we get a chance to witness their astonishing acting abilities.
Is script writer Juhi Chaturvedi obsessed with human secretions? If ‘Vicky Donor’ was about a guy selling his sperm, in ‘Piku’ we have a father and daughter having a highly scatological conversation in the most matter of fact way. You can take a Bengali out of Calcutta but not vice versa. Amitabh, as the grouchy, garrulous Bhashkor typically feels uprooted in Delhi. He yearns for his hometown and embarks on a journey with his daughter and a reluctant driver. Juhi’s detailing and characterisation are well thought out and delightful. The icing on the cake is Moushumi Chaterjee, in a casting masterstroke as the aunt. With her husky voice and twinkling eyes you wonder why she wasn’t approached all these years.
What ‘Piku’ has done is wooed the above 60 audience from the confines of their living rooms back to the theatre. They don’t want to behave like Bhashkor but wouldn’t mind a daughter as thoughtful as Piku. It’s rarely that everything falls in place for a film.
The casting is perfect from Irrfan right down to an irritated domestic help. The banter between father and daughter is delightful and gets better when Irfan or Moushumi appear.
Amitabh’s understanding of the character is remarkable simply because he’s the opposite in real life. Deepika’s too because she has a father (Prakash Padukone) who looks like her elder brother. Well, that’s what acting is all about. You’re not surprised that Amitabh and Irrfan excel. It’s Deepika who stuns you as the exasperated, but loving daughter who has to discuss poop even on a date. Watch her communicate with Irrfan just with her eyes or when she sits on her father’s bed and cries, not in relief but genuine grief. Not in a single scene does she look intimidated by her gifted co-stars. The music reminds you of Satyajit Ray’s films be it the gentle strains of the sitar or the strumming of the guitar. Shoojit Sircar’s ‘Piku’ is like a succulent, authentic Bengali sweetmeat, not easily available but leaves you wanting more. He reminds you of Basu Chaterjee and Hrishikesh Mukerjee who made such delightful, gentle entertainers. Keep them coming, Shoojit.
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