When actor-filmmaker Amol Palekar tried to praise the Ministry of Culture for organising a retrospective last month, it was interpreted as a ‘backhanded compliment’ by one of the hosts. “Their apprehension of criticism triggers the gagging and pre-empts what would follow… Good, bad, ugly,” says Palekar, whose speech at the National Gallery of Modern Arts (NGMA) was rudely interrupted when he expressed concern that some advisory committees were being unilaterally disbanded and that two retrospectives had been cancelled. The actor thinks that what happened to him was just “one dot in the extended arrow aimed at suppressing the subversive text”.
“In the last four years, a definite, consistent pattern of interference with a specific agenda does emerge,” says Palekar. “Any art needs the patronage of the system that ought to nurture, preserve and cherish it. The system ought to include the artist community as insiders and refrain from controlling them and their art. In our country, no matter which political party is in power, this abstinence is axed.”
Face-saving effort
NGMA Director General Adwaita Gadanayak later clarified that the two advisory committees had not been scrapped; their term had ended, he said, and new panels are in the process of being constituted. Palekar calls it a “good face-saving effort”. “Artistes have complained to me about the ministry’s arbitrariness… even when they convene the committee, they will appoint a stooge who will parrot their songs.”
Palekar, who has called these acts of gagging a “war against humanities”, has been part of the industry for almost 50 years. He regards most of the film fraternity as “conformists”. “When you expect a quid pro quo from the system or some patronage in the form of awards or assignments or appointments, you cannot afford to say anything against those who will sanction what you are seeking… So it is a choice an artist has to make: whether to succumb to the dictates of the system or to speak up.”
So what’s new? “What is new is the fear factor! The deterrent is that someone is watching your moves all the time and any adverse move will attract action from the tax department, or police, or you will be labelled an urban naxal or you may be lynched — that is new. The silence now is overwhelmingly loud.”
Back to the canvas
The veteran of over 50 films was last seen in a TV series in 2015, and says he has found consolation in the “blank canvas”. “Very few know that I am a professional painter from J.J. School of Arts. Over the years, with the change in the filmmaking scenario, I have moved away. I stopped acting as I lost interest in it. Recently, I did accept an interesting role in a Hindi web series.”
Palekar, through his roles, made the mundanity of middle-class life likeable in the 1970s and 1980s. His ascent, which began in 1971, coincided with the reign of Amitabh Bachchan. Among the best ‘meta’ moments of Hindi cinema is in Gol Maal, when Ram Prasad, his character, is shown stealing the attention of the autograph-hunting schoolgirls as Amitabh Bachchan stares with a despondent look. (Incidentally, Palekar won the Filmfare Award for his role, outmanoeuvring Bachchan.)
However, apart from these affable roles, Palekar also essayed negative characters, like that of the obsessed lover in Agni Pareeksha. “After starting my career as hero in three silver jubilee hits — Rajnigandha, Chhoti Si Baat and Chitchor — I played a negative role in Shyam Benegal’s Bhumika and a murderer in Khamosh. And, if I may point out, my loveable portrayal in Gharonda (and in a much less seen film Spandan) had quite a few negative shades. I tried to swim against the mainstream.”
Among Palekar’s most frequent collaborators were filmmakers like Basu Chatterjee and Hrishikesh Mukherjee, who made ‘middle-of-the-road’ cinema. So, has the space for such cinema expanded with the arrival of streaming portals? “I think middle-of-the-road or parallel cinema of the 70s offered a different viable financial model that gave filmmakers the necessary breathing space to deal with the little problems of the common man. Their films chose not to be larger than life, not to be melodramatic, not to dazzle people, and yet were entertaining enough to get the audiences hooked. Digital cinema and online streaming portals have opened platforms that offer similar or even bigger freedom to young filmmakers.”
Poetic language
Palekar, who filmed Thoda Sa Roomani Ho Jaayen entirely in verse — in a throwback to the Kaifi Azmi-scripted Heer Ranjha — has spoken the language of poetry rather than prose through most of his directorials. “I have always been fascinated by Hollywood’s musical genre, which offers seamless narration from prose to free lyrics to music. West Side Story, The Sound of Music, My Fair Lady, Carmen, all these old classics. The age-old Bollywood situations break into songs when in love, when in despair, while celebrating. However, the Hollywood musical offers mundane situations like arguments, discussions and debates in a lyrical manner. I explored this exciting form first in the TV serial Kachchi Dhoop in 1987. It was immensely appreciated by audiences. So I created the musical Thoda Sa Roomani. Both these creations were supported wholeheartedly by Doordarshan, which at that time was free from the clutches of market-driven commercial forces.”
Breaking barriers
Challenging gender hierarchies and a unidimensional and heteronormative notion of sexuality has been a theme Palekar has stressed in his films. Daayraa had as its central character a transvestite; Anahat was a period drama where a woman seeks sexual fulfilment outside marriage while Quest was about homosexuality. Could we see Palekar make more such films, now that there is a more informed audience? “In most of my films, I explored the theme of a man-woman relationship and its various dimensions through a subversion of cumulative silence and prototypes of exploitation. My protagonists march towards love and empathy. I also chose to depict unconventional female characters who seek to challenge providence. Lachchi, a rural girl in Paheli, accepts a lover knowing he is not her husband. Binni in Thoda Sa Roomani proclaims that marriage is not the ultimate aim for a girl. My female characters strive to break their alienation and assert themselves against the mainstream dominance. Maybe a retrospective of my directorial journey will reach the more informed audience of today!”