The biggest bet of Indian dream merchants – a movie named "Shivaji – The Boss" has been released and is running successfully all over. The fiscal spread on the movie is in excess of Rs. 100 crores (the remunerations of its leading man Rajnikant and its director Shankar amounting to 30 percent of it) – an unheard of sum in the Subcontinent's cinematic history.
What is behind the name called Rajnikant?
Here is an offbeat peek…
Prodromos, circa 1974-1976…
Ironically "Shivaji" is the first name of the actor who had been a bus conductor in
Bangalore (the capital of Karnataka – which has a border dispute with its neighbouring state – Maharashtra where the name is uttered reverently and whose linqua franca is actor's mother tongue) twenty eight years ago. He was all set to make Madras (destined to be called Chennai a little under two decades later) – the headquarters of Tamil Nadu – which was slated to start its river-water-dispute with his home state - a few years hence - a matter he later swore to never interfere with.
His full name – Shivaji Rao Gaekwad was jettisoned for a career in the films – because the man wanted an "honourable" nomenclature befitting a star.
"Gauravam" (honour) – a movie starring another man who had come to be called as "Shivaji Ganeshan" during his career in Tamil films had a character called "Rajnikant." Since that production became a hit, and for want of a better alias, the khaki clad busman adopted it.
At that point in time, nobody had thought of calling the south Indian film industry as "Kollywood" – so named thanks to the initial "K" that stands for Kodambakkam – the south
Chennai suburb where the south Indian film industry had been headquartered once.
Barring the owners of a couple of studios, the scene has shifted elsewhere – to Hyderabad and beyond because it is no longer profitable to own real estate in the form of floors meant purely to erect sets.
Yet, an uncharted, uncertain life in that part of the world became an obsession for the then unknown Rajnikant.
An uneventful period of training in the Film Institute located in Adyar – a south Madras suburb (which would attain fame much later but only due to the skill of its technicians) landed Rajnikant a glorified extra's role in a black and white flick "Apoorva Raagangal" (rare tunes) whose storyline had been "inspired" from a joke.
Rajnikant was asked to play a geriatric husband to a wayward wife who chooses to love a man young enough to be her son, while her daughter falls for the son's father. His screen presence lasted under 15 minutes. And even in that span, his face was to be hidden behind a shaggy beard.
Nobody noticed him in the film – except for a few superstitious dream merchants – who felt that Rajnikant's first shot – opening the gates of a concert theatre was a good omen.
That still didn't make Rajnikant's life in filmdom easy.
He hired single room in a small seedy lodge in a suburb which had the dubious name – "Kolakaran Pettai" (murderer's area) simply because he couldn't afford anything better and also due to the reason that nobody was willing to give him a dwelling on rent as he loved to smoke and drink.
Rajnikant's mentor Balachander hired him to play anti-hero roles. The other director whose name started with the letter "B" – Bharati Raja (a man who had started life in Bangalore as well) too made him a bigger villain in his maiden venture "Pathinaaru Vayathinile" (Sweet Sixteen) too tried "claiming" Rajnikant as his "find" for some time, but to no avail.
Movie critics thought that Rajnikant was a cruel joke on them and panned him endlessly.
Little did they know that the more they called him names, the better were the chances for Rajnikant's success.
Circa 1980…
The set was garish and big.
Rajnikant's costumes were old-fashioned and seemed like they were hired from a friendly but shady launderer. The three leading ladies were studies in contrast – Lakshmi – a minor legend since her arrival a generation before the hero, the second – Saritha – who was a more saleable star than him in that period (therefore being given a better role) and the third – Monica – was destined to be dumped into the dustbin of dreamland.
Rajnikant was playing a dual role – each an antithesis of the other. The meatier of the two was a philanderer who never left anything wrapped in a sari or otherwise alone. The other was a straitjacketed do-gooder who pretends to marry his own father's rape victim.
The movie was named "Nettrikkan" (the eye on the forehead) – a home production of Balachander.
This correspondent wandered into the floor in AVM studios as he had been asked to interview the star who was just emerging from doomsday predictions.
Rajnikant had been called a crackpot, drug addict, drunkard and worse simply because he had been rumoured to have had links with a fading actress – who at the fag end of her career had been the flavour of Chief Minister MG Ramachandran hardly a year ago.
"Try to get under the skin of Rajnikant, see if we can get some nasty quotes from him," my editor stationed in Hyderabad had said.
It was taking a long time between shots as the film inside the archaic Mitchell camera had to be rewound as per needs of the double-role shots since nobody had heard about CG then and very tricky lighting had to be done.
Rajnikant had removed his jacket as he waited because air-conditioned make-up rooms were unheard of at that time for up and coming stars like him and smoking a State Express 555 cigarette.
I accosted the star and asked him whether he was willing to answer a few questions.
"Is it for a movie magazine?"
"No."
"Then you are welcome. Ask whatever you want. But please remember to print my answers verbatim."
What was supposed to last a few minutes stretched for four hours – two till shooting ended that day and the balance a day later during a drive from Rajnikant's bungalow to the studios in his modest, air-conditioned Fiat.
Three statements made by the actor during the interview while answering personal questions are etched in my memory.
"I only fear God and my conscience. When I started to earn a living, I did not know that one day I would come to Madras and become film actor. For me, no matter how famous I become, I will always be a pal to my pals, because they are my roots. Tamil Nadu has become my preferred home because this people of this state have given me a new identity and my modest claim to fame. I may not speak the language properly, but I have come to realise that I express myself better in Tamil than in any other language."
"My most humbling moment was when I went to Jayalalithaa's house to talk to her about a role offered to be me by a producer – to play second fiddle to her. I was commuting in a scooter – something I was sheepish about. It didn't work out for various reasons. Unlike what I had heard, she didn't have a patronising attitude at all. In fact, she was very gracious that day and even saw me off premises. It was at that moment that I decided that one day I would have my residence in the same area as she lived – Poes Gardens – so that I could shrug off the complex once and for all. And I have done that now," Rajnikant said the first day with a glint in his eye.
"When I left Bangalore , I wanted to be an actor, not a star, because of three things: It would fetch me a little more money than the salary of a bus conductor; I could choose my women and get finally plenty of time to sleep – in that order. I have achieved much more than that now. I want nothing more."
"Can I publish that?"
"Please do so by all means."
The 2500-word interview was printed in a magazine – which soon ceased publication. No Tamil newspaper reproduced it because Rajnikant wasn't news then.
Circa 1992…
The car carrying Rajnikant was making its way towards Radhakrishnan Road . Suddenly, a police jeep overtook his vehicle and forced it to stop.
"We are clearing the road for the Chief Minister to pass," the cop announced when the actor sought an explanation.
For the uniformed man, it did not matter that the producer needing Rajnikant's presence in the studio would be put to hardship and that like all citizens of Chennai the actor too had the right to the use the thoroughfare without being forced to make way.
Something snapped in the actor's mind. He got out of the parked car walked into the busy arterial road, crossed the intersection, went to a kiosk, ordered a packet of cigarettes, shook one out and began smoking.
Within a few minutes, a small crowd gathered to have a glimpse of the star. News spread like wildfire and a huge multitude began milling around the area as the actor didn't seem to have a care in the world and was puffing away merrily. The whole area was gridlocked.
Chief Minister Jayalalithaa, who wanted the road cleared, couldn't stir out of her residence.
Finally, realising their folly, the cops begged Rajnikant to drive away to work because the CM was getting late.
"I am waiting for her to go. I don't mind waiting," the actor said nonchalantly for awhile feigning reluctance. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders, got into his vehicle and drove away.
The Chief Minister understood the hard way that no doubt she was the administrative boss of the state, but the masses' icon was indeed Rajnikant.
The point was made.
Politicians were told bluntly that forcing ordinary people off the roads in Chennai was simply not on.
The present…
Fans of Rajnikant have more or less got the message that the actor is not yet ready to don the mantle of a politician though the political correspondents in Chennai are still arguing about it due to the persistent rumours to the contrary.
Baring an aberration of a movie called "Baba" all of Rajnikant's releases have accorded manifold returns to his producers. With every movie, the actor's remuneration has quadrupled to unheard of sums and reached the present level of Rs.20 crores. No Indian actor – even the biggest stars of Bollywood have been paid even half that sum for a single movie.
Rajnikant's last film "Chandramukhi" was released in 2005 and has been the biggest grosser in south Indian film history.
In the meanwhile, he has given up one of his lifelong loves – smoking – not because it was setting a bad example – but due to medical advice.
Unlike other matinee idols, Rajnikant wears make-up only when he is required to do so before a movie camera.
After the completion of every movie, he goes away on a pilgrimage – sometimes to the Himalayas. This time he visited Tirupati.
Despite being 58 years old, his fans all over the world (a sizeable number in far away Japan, UK, USA and South Africa) want him to gallivant with women much younger than his two daughters (the elder of the two is married to film star Dhanush whose career seems to be going nowhere very fast) espouse the poor man's cause, sing, and dance and fight on screen. They bathed his cut outs with milk, beer and whisky on June 15 – the day "Shivaji – The Boss" was released.
Will the cost of the movie – said to be in excess of Rs.60 crores – and an almost equal amount spent on its publicity be recovered?
Box office pundits predict that a movie with the unbeatable combination of success – AVM (a film company that has made the biggest hits in south India ), Shankar – its creator and AR Rahman (the biggest superstar of Indian music industry) can never fail.
Can Shivaji Rao Gaekwad – the man who only wanted a mere better life from that of a bus conductor live up to his billing of "The Boss" of tinsel town for yet another time?
