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April 4, 2004
REVIEWS: The actors’ actor
A legend in his lifetime, Dilip Kumar is quite rightly called the actors’ actor — in the same vein as Edmund Spenser is referred to as a poets’ poet — for he has inspired many male performers on the screen and has become the standard by which other actors are judged. Reviewing one of Rajesh Khanna’s performances in his heyday, Filmfare commented “It can be compared to the best of Dilip Kumar.”
Many stalwarts, on both sides of Wagah, such as Amitabh Bachchan, Nadeem and Shah Rukh Khan, have held Dilip Kumar as their role model, at least in the initial stage of their careers. Then there were his clones who just could not get out of the groove. They tried to imitate the tragedian that Dilip was in the forties and fifties — as even Nadeem did before he evolved a style of his own, as late as in the sixties — but the matinee idol changed from tragedies to comedies with remarkable ease. The spineless lover turned into a fighter and won against oppression.
Dilip Kumar may have become old now and may have taken an unannounced retirement from films but he has not receded from the memory of critics and cine-goers alike. It is, therefore, surprising that no proper biography of an actor of his calibre hit the bookstores in the last five decades, until early this year. The book under review Dilip Kumar: The Last Emperor is being followed by Nehru’s Hero: Dilip Kumar in the Life of India and an about to be published biography by veteran film journalist Bunny Reuben.
To a keen Dilip Kumar-watcher the book by Sanjit Narwekar, a National Award winning documentary filmmaker, offers no new revelation but for an average film-goer the story of the thespian has been well told, particularly the half century old journey that began in 1944 when he made his first film — Jawar Bhata. Not many Dilip fans know why he didn’t retain his name — Yusuf Khan — when embarking on a film career. The author quotes the actor as saying that he didn’t want his conservative father to discover that his son had opted for a film career. Bombay Talkies which gave him a break asked him a choice of names — Jahangir, Vasudev and Dilip Kumar. The rest, as they say, is history.
His off-screen romances, particularly with Kamini Kaushal and the Venus of the Indian screen — Madhubala — make interesting reading, so do the events that led to his sudden engagement to Saira Bano, who was quite a sensation in the second half of the sixties. The marriage was solemnized with a lot of pomp and show. Keeping him company was his friend and rival Raj Kapoor.
Until 1983 Dilip Kumar had managed his love affairs with much discretion but there was one mid-life crisis — his secret marriage to Asma, a pretty socialite from Hyderabad Deccan — which he could keep under wraps for sometime until a weekly got hold of the Nikahnama.
Narwekar claims that Dilip Kumar was thinking in terms of announcing his retirement when he had reached the pinnacle of success after the great success of “Mughal-i-Azam” and “Gunga Jumna”. The author adds that had the great actor called it a day cine-goers would have been deprived of such scintillating performances as the ones put up by him in “Ram aur Shyam” and “Aadmi”.
One would like to go further and say that they wouldn’t have seen him in elderly roles, which gave a new dimension to a career that is strewn with achievements. Normally when leading men become old they start to play bit roles of fathers and uncles, but not so in the case of Dilip Kumar, who only accepted central roles. The best perhaps was the one in “Shakti” where he was pitched against another legend — Amitabh Bachchan. Dilip went on to collect his 8th Best Actor’s Filmfare trophy.
Strangely enough, while the author gives undue importance to the views expressed by Film India from time to time, he doesn’t discuss the Filmfare awards, the Oscars of Indian cinema, in the main body of the book. He should have pointed out that in at least two more films Dilip deserved the Best Actor’s trophy — in “Gunga Jumna” and later in “Aadmi”.
Music doesn’t seem to be the author’s forte for he has made many mistakes. For instance, he has credited Talat Mahmood for the song Ye mera deewana pan hai, which was in fact recorded by Mukesh for Yahudi. Likewise he gives credit to Naushad for four Talat numbers, which were in fact composed by other music directors. But the biggest slip of his pen occurs when he calls Emperor Akbar the father of Emperor Humayun. One hopes all these mistakes will be corrected in the next edition of an otherwise enjoyable publication.
The book is profusely illustrated though the reproduction of colour photographs, in particular, leaves much to be desired. The redeeming factor is the attractive book design and layout by Kapilk Gupta.
Dilip Kumar: the last emperor
By Sanjit Narwekar
Rupa & Company, New Delhi. Available with Liberty Books (Pvt) Ltd, 3 Rafiq Plaza, M.R. Kayani Road, Saddar, Karachi
Tel: 021-5683026
Email:
libooks@cyber.net.pk
Website:
www.libertybooks.com
ISBN 81-291-0361-3
152pp. Rs450.
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