Rachana Dubey (BOMBAY TIMES; September 1, 2019)

In the 80s and 90s, the audience saw him lip-synching the classic, So Gaya Yeh Jahan from Tezaab (1988) and matching Govinda move-fora-move in Aankhen (1993). Chunky Panday, who returned to the lives of cinegoers with characters like Aakhri Pasta in Housefull (2010), is now juggling his schedule between multiple films, two of which present him as a villain. While it may not be easy to laugh at oneself, it’s an art that he has mastered and is gradually passing on the tricks to his 20-year-old daughter Ananya, who made her debut this year with Student Of The Year 2. In a chat with BT, Chunky discusses his current phase in the industry, his daughter’s acting career and what his mistakes have taught him. Excerpts…

Your new innings as an actor is in full force with films like Prassthanam, Jawani Jaaneman and Housefull 4, where you play diametrically different characters. Is this the most satisfying time of your professional life?
Yes, it is. I am also doing a Marathi film called Bhangarwala in which I play an Arab; after seeing that, I don’t think they will let me enter Dubai (laughs!). Before this, the only regional cinema I had tried was Bangladeshi (laughs even more), which means I’ve also done Bengali films.

I’ve been a great fan of Pran, Mehmood, Amjad Khan, Kader Khan, Shakti Kapoor and Amrish Puri. I can’t ever dream of coming close to these guys and the characters they’ve immortalised. Deva Katta, who made the original Prassthanam, felt that I could play the grey character in his story. I’ve just tried to remember the masters of such characters in Indian cinema while playing this one, with the hope that I, too, can achieve that glory.

Given that you are being offered performance-driven parts now, would you say that you’re finally coming into your own?
It wouldn’t be wrong to say that. We are actually living in the golden phase of this craft. Today, newer platforms have opened up avenues for actors. If you realise, I haven’t done much work in about 30 years as an actor. I may have 94 films to my credit, but only about 75 have been released. I am less exposed and also lucky to get the characters I have today. Also, people didn’t ever forget me entirely. I guess I stayed at the back of their minds. The second innings started with characters like Aakhri Pasta and that Nepali guy in Apna Sapna Money Money (2006). The intention was to impress the younger audience. The subsequent characters, like the ones in Begum Jaan (2017) and Prassthanam, are bonuses. I would like to believe what my wife Bhavana often says when we fight. She says, ‘There is a little devil hiding in you and you are evil personified.’ That’s a statement every wife makes when the couple fights, but I took it a tad bit seriously and decided to prove her right (Laughs!). My wife was petrified to see my look in Begum Jaan. Ananya was taken aback, but impressed. Doing negative characters had some impact at home. My younger daughter (Rysa) and wife didn’t talk to me for days after Begum Jaan released. I played a devilish guy who feeds dogs to people, while at home, I am a dog lover. When I grew a beard for that part, my daughters refused to come close to me, because I wore this weird look on my face, unlike the daddy they knew. And my wife? She refused to kiss my cheeks or hug me. So, coming into my own has not been easy.

How has this new phase changed you as an actor?
It’s made me a lot more confident, but I would say that the directors, too, had a huge role to play. To do Prassthanam and Housefull 4 in the same year is a big deal for me. I was stepping into the comedy franchise, which is almost like home to me, after doing two badass characters. The after-effect of playing those parts was that I was finding it hard to slip into Aakhri Pasta (his character in Housefull 4). The transition between roles was a challenge. Your mind tends to get confused, and you need the director’s support. I am not the greatest actor on earth, and I depend a lot on my director. Even for Prassthanam, I depended a lot on Deva Katta. If left to me, I will do the same navrasas in every film. I can trust the actor in me, but I need a chance to show something new every time. That new thing is the director’s take on the character. I always ask for that.

Jackie Shroff, Gulshan Grover, Sanjay Dutt — a bunch of your colleagues from the 1980s and 1990s — seem to have a better repertoire today than you did. As a leading man in the 1990s, why did you drop out of the scene, that, too, soon after a hit like Aankhen?
I had no option. I arrived on the scene in 1987. Govinda had come a year earlier, and in quick succession, we had Aamir Khan, Salman Khan, Shah Rukh Khan, Akshay Kumar and Ajay Devgn. There was one new face every year. My honeymoon got over in no time with so many heroes arriving on the scene. My solo-hero films did average business, but the multi-starrers did very well. In this industry, you should never underestimate or overestimate anyone. When I went to Deepika Padukone and Ranveer Singh’s wedding reception, I met filmmaker Shankar. He remembered me instantly, but it took me a while to recall that he was assisting a South filmmaker on Jai Shiv Shankar — a film I did for Rajesh Khanna’s company, which never released. Imagine, Shankar was an assistant on that film! So, you cannot discount anyone. I have seen things change overnight for people, from good to bad and terrible to great. I always feel that one should maintain a balance with people. Don’t write them off and don’t chase them crazily.

But didn’t you get almost written off when you decided to work in Bangladeshi films?
It was a phase of a meltdown. I was thinking of switching careers. I had the biggest hit in the country, Aankhen, to my name but I didn’t get much work after that. I moved to Bangladeshi films and kept doing films there because they worked. I was just running away from myself. I somehow wanted to continue being an actor, because if I didn’t, then I would have to find an alternate profession. It was Bhavna who got me back here. She told me that even in Bangladesh, people know me as Chunky from Bollywood. Filmmaker Harry Baweja gave me my first role during that phase in Qayamat: City Under Threat (2003). Things changed from there. There are times when you ask yourself why certain things happened and what went wrong. I think I made a lot of good choices, but I also made many mistakes; I was meant to make them. For instance, I left Tridev (1989) for another film. Everyone makes mistakes and learns from them. Today, if I get a great character, I do it, no matter what. I wish I was as wise a few years ago. It took me some soul searching and introspection to be like this. I was getting characters even back then, but my mind was not ready for them. Today, I am thick-skinned, and I have no ego. I change my colours like a chameleon, and I can laugh at myself. That makes life easier for an actor.

Isn’t it strange that when you decided to come back, the work didn’t really come from the friends who you often hang out with?
It didn’t come from friends because I have never depended on them to give me work and I don’t like bringing work between us.

While you are clearly enjoying your second innings, your daughter Ananya has started her career…
I am damn excited for her. I was also scared about that at one point. The most important thing for any actor is to be accepted by the audience. I’ve always told this to Ananya because there’s just that much advice I can dole out. She’ll have to figure her way through this on her own, making her own choices and her own mistakes. I’ve always told her that no one can ever predict the box-office success of a film, because a billion people decide that. I stopped worrying when I saw Student Of The Year 2 at a private screening. Bhavna and I were sure she would find acceptance. There’s no harm in being excited and optimistic, but one should never get carried away.

Ananya has entered the industry at a time when actors have to face pressure beyond box-office performance of their films. Social media pressure is a major aspect today...
Yes, the golden phase of show-business has its own perils. I’m proud of my daughter’s initiative to fight social media bullying instead of giving in to it. It’s a nasty thing that affects so many people. Someone had to bell the cat and Ananya has taken the lead. She’s 20 and doing something brave for her age. Today, I just hope that she enjoys everything she does. She did well academically, but she’s learning things now, and things that will help her survive in an industry like ours. She did her formal training in acting, but no university can teach you things that Bollywood can. And trust me, it teaches you too many lessons very quickly.

Link-ups with co-actors happened in the 1990s, and they happen even today. Within six months of her debut, Ananya has already faced such a situation...
Yes, she got linked very early on in her career, but as they say, you live and die by the sword. It happened then and it happens now. You can’t control it, whether you’re married or single. I only tell her to take it in her stride, what else can I advise her on this? Even as an actor, when she asks me my opinion on her scripts, I don’t say much, because I want her to make her decisions and stand by those, forever.