Tracing the graphs of the three Khans in a nation transformed by sociopolitical upheavals-Entertainment News , Firstpost

At a time when Hindi film superstars, who have reigned over the country’s collective imagination for decades, are undergoing a litmus test thanks to the shutdown of theatres and rise of streaming platforms, it seems like an appropriate vantage point to assess in retrospect the cause, impact, and graph of the Khan phenomenon.

In a timely book, seasoned Hindi film journalist Kaveree Bamzai traces the link between the trajectory of three Muslim superstars in an increasingly communally polarised world. The Three Khans: And the Emergence of New India scans the troughs and crests of Shah Rukh Khan, Aamir Khan, and Salman Khan through the lens of their sociopolitical standings, and even through the lens of their perceived identities as Muslim icons.

As emerging youth icons

The three Khans made their Hindi film breakthroughs at around the same time. In 1988, under then-Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi’s leadership, the country’s youth found newfound energy and purpose, particularly after he pushed through a Constitutional amendment that lowered the voting age from 21 to 18. “This extended voting rights to 50 million more people and acknowledged the country’s youth power,” Bamzai notes in the chapter ‘Then There Were Three.’ “The rising number of young people would subsequently be described as the ‘demographic dividend.'”

And that is also what the youth wanted to see on the big screen — young faces, fresh ideas, and new voices. When Mansoor Khan’s musical romance Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak released, it was a much needed respite from the  ‘angry young cinema’ of that time that was getting older and excessive. Sample the other hits of that year: Tezaab, Dayavan, Khoon Bhari Maang, and Zakhmi Aurat. All of these were revenge dramas with the same pitch and tone that were once made popular by Amitabh Bachchan in the 1970s. But with formulaic films like Shahenshah in the same year, his brand of cinema was battling the same mid-life crisis that the yesteryear star was tackling then, at 46.

Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak broke new ground with the fine vision and finer touches by Mansoor. The Hindi film heroine, reprised by Juhi Chawla, continued to be sweet and innocent but also became more ‘determined,’ being introduced as riding horses, desiring physical proximity, and rebelling with the same grit as the hero. The Hindi film hero too, upgraded by Aamir, was not your run-of-the-mill macho persona like most A-leagues male stars of that decade — Sanjay Dutt, Jackie Shroff, and Sunny Deol. His physicality was more inclined towards that of Rishi Kapoor, the epitome of young romances.

Like Mansoor, another filmmaker’s son infused Hindi cinema with freshness through Maine Pyar Kiya next year. Sooraj Barjatya introduced Salman Khan as Prem in a film about first love. Again, Barjatya updated the Bollywood gender dynamics by making Salman the object of desire, as opposed to the heroine Bhagyashree. At the same time, SRK made waves on television with the show Fauji, which led to his splash on the big screen with Raj Kanwar’s 1992 film Deewana.

Riding on the liberalisation wave

The sociopolitical and socioeconomic discourse in India took a drastic turn in the early 1990s, which coincided with the Khans getting a new lease of life as conduits of public sentiment and imagination. The Babri Masjid demolition, the 1993 Mumbai riots, and investigation of the Islamists-dominated underworld shook the nation to its core but the three Khans rode the LPG wave to tide through the troubling times. They did not wear their Muslim identities on their sleeves then, but instead served as flagbearers of a changing India, thanks to the opening up of its economy.

SRK was audacious enough to do three consecutive anti-hero roles in Yash Chopra’s Darr (1993), Baazigar (1993), and Anjaam (1994). He played an obsessed stalker in the first film, channeling a rage that was more individualistic, as opposed to the collective social anger of Bachchan’s streak of Angry Young Man films in the ’70s. SRK’s relentless, single minded quest for fulfilling his individual desire was symbolic of a nation on the cusp of becoming more micro than macro, thanks to the consumer becoming the king of the market.

To his credit, SRK took a 360-degree turn two years later with Aditya Chopra’s Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, which painted him as an Indian-born Londoner who drinks beer but also does not flee with the woman he loves (Kajol) without the consent of her family. A year earlier, Barjatya’s Hum Aapke Hain Koun..!, starring Salman, like DDLJ consolidated Indian values and customs, and insisted they need to go hand in hand with the growing individualism in India. And then in 1995 came Ram Gopal Varma’s Rangeela, where a tapori Munna (Aamir) “embodies the lower middle class, dazzled by the gfts of liberalisation — from five-star hotels to foreign cars — but not swept away by them,” as Bamzai notes in the chapter ‘A Split Nation, Divided Stars.’

New millennium, wider leaps

The new millennium witnessed two of the three Khans —Aamir and SRK — looking to expand their reigns overseas. SRK already had a head start with his brand of NRI cinema like DDLJ, Yash Chopra’s Dil Toh Pagal Hai (2007), and Karan Johar’s Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (1998). Having turned producer with Dreamz Unlimted, he mounted his historical epic Asoka on a global scale, gearing up for its world premiere at the Toronoto Film Festival in 2001. But that plunge across continents was hijacked by the 9/11 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre in the US.

This allowed Aamir to position his historical epic Lagaan, with which he also turned producer, at the same level. Lagaan made the cut as a nominee in the Best Foreign Film category at the Oscars next year. While it didn’t won the golden statuette, the momentum helped Aamir build a world-class crew for his next epic, Mangal Pandey: The Rising, that included Dame Maggie Smith’s son Tony Stephens in a supporting role as a British soldier. The villainisation of Muslims across the globe could not deter the Khans’ overseas expansion, as evidenced by the record-breaking box office collection of SRK’s Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (2001) and the premiere of his historical romance Devdas at the Cannes Film Festival.

The third Khan, however, continued to consolidate his Indian market, but not as successfully. It was only in 2009 that Salman reemerged as the working-class hero with Wanted, and then with Dabangg in 2010. Around the same time, SRK’s Om Shanti Om (2007) broke new box-office ground, only to be upstaged by Aamir’s Ghajini the next year. In the late 2000s, the three Khans finally came to head-to-head with remarkable box office clouts.

As unrealised Muslim icons

The appeal of Khans has rarely overlapped with their identity as Muslim icons. That is also because they have portrayed Muslim characters only infrequently and have not addressed Muslim issues as voraciously. While they have not shied away from embracing their religion, they have identified themselves primarily as Indian, as substantiated by their interviews and public dealings over the years.

It is only in the Twitter trolls’ comments and irresponsible statements of certain political figures (not only of the Bhartiya Janata Party, but even Shiv Sena) that the Muslimness of the three Khans is brought up, and even linked with Pakistan. That has been more the case with Aamir and SRK, since they have been more vocal towards national issues such as religious intolerance, the Narmada Bachao Andolan, and the ban on Pakistani cricketers in the Indian Premier League. Salman has largely remained silent, though he is deemed to be the most politically incorrect of the three.

He is also the only one who has not played a Muslim character on screen, except in Sultan, where his religious identity was only hinted at with the waving of green flags as he wrestles or his visits to the mosque. But that does not imply that he has steered clear of politics in cinema completely. His 2015 blockbuster Bajrangi Bhaijaan, directed by Kabir Khan, is a love letter to India-Pakistan harmony.

Similarly, Aamir may have endorsed religious tolerance through films like Rajkumar Hirani’s PK (2014), but he has played a Muslim character only twice in the over three-decade long career. While his twin roles of Samar and Sahir Khan in Dhoom 3 (2012) were not much of a political comment, he insisted his turn as the betraying Muslim man Dil Navaz in Earth (1999) was informed more by the character’s individual choice rather than religious indoctrination.

SRK has been the most frequent and direct in portraying a Muslim man in his films. Whether it was as the progressive archaeologist Amjd Ali Khan in Kamal Haasan’s 2000 historical film Hey Ram, as the hockey coach determined to lead the Indian hockey girls team to a world cup win in order to clean the taint of being a gaddar (traitor) in Chak De! India (2007), or an American Muslim battling both Asperger’s syndrome and Islamophobia as an immediate aftermath of 9/11 in My Name Is Khan, SRK has been the most political of the three Khans, only if one manages to look beyond his NRI cinema and money spinners.

In the chapter ‘A New Order for a New India,’ Bamzai argues with inputs from experts that it is unlikely the country will ever see three Muslims as national icons again, given that Hindutva is on the rise. While they have been pushed into silence as far as their offscreen views are concerned, they continue to make cinema that has the potential to be at least mildly political. SRK’s reported next is Pathan, which borrows its title from a Muslim identity SRK has often owned himself. Salman’s next is Tiger 3, the preceding two parts of which have preached India-Pakistan harmony. And Aamir is filming for Laal Singh Chadha, the official Hindi remake of Forrest Gump, best known for the journey of a man alongside that of a nation.

While stars like Akshay Kumar and Ajay Devgn continue to bank on the advantage of having their films preach in line with the ideals of the current establishment, the Khans may not be able to replicate the same. They are often compared to the trinity of Raj Kapoor, Dev Anand, and Dilip Kumar who helped further Nehruvian ideals of socialism in the 1960s, but then came the hurricane of Amitabh Bachchan which rebelled against the status quo with unmatched fury. A more interesting and appropriate parallel drawn in the book is between the three Khans and the three Muslim leading ladies of the 1950s — Waheeda Rahman, Nargis, and Madhubala.

A future without the Khans?

More than the national issue of the rising Hindutva or the industry issue of streaming vs theatres, the primary cause of the Khans’ downfall, this writer believes, is their complacency. Aamir may be the least complacent of the three, given his reputation as a method actor, yet the fate of his next film is crucial. The same rings true for Salman, who has just encountered a massive failure in Radhe: The Most Wanted Bhai as he continues to dole out films and roles that look like clones of each other. The trickiest case is that of SRK who, as Bamzai puts it in the book, remains “stuck between the changeless Khan and the ever-changing Khan.”

Early chapters in the book quote liberally from past interviews of the three Khans when they were insecure of their successes. SRK said in 1991, “Six years from now, when people stop thinking about you, you’re a f*ck-up. And you’ll realise it yourself, but by then you’ve lost yourself.” Salman said in 1990, “Signing 20 films isn’t going to get you security. I’d call it risky. The next release flops and the others could soon be on the shelves.” Aamir said in the same year, “I’ve learnt the intense fan following for QSQT was for something new rather than for something good.”

The three Khans seem as insecure now, but they are less frank about it. Their fears and vulnerabilities end up manifesting in their choices and acting. It seems like India continues to change, but the three Khans cannot get themselves to change with it. Looking from a vantage point like the one offered in this book may help them to capture a nation’s imagination like they once did in the late ’80s.

The Three Khans: And The Emergence of New India is published by Westland Books.