Actor Shernaz Patel, while talking about her new play; adds that things are changing in theatre
Sanskrita Bharadwaj (HINDUSTAN TIMES; January 30, 2020)

Strap: says actor Shernaz Patel, while talking about her new play; adds how things are ‘somewhat’ changing in theatre

Shernaz Patel, who will be seen as Miss Mistry, a 76-year-old single woman living alone in Goa in the play The Mirror Crack’d — the Indian adaptation of Agatha Christie’s murder mystery, says it’s indeed a “whodunit but it’s still quite different”. “There is enough humour in it. But what I find interesting is that nobody is two dimensional in the play. Each and every individual character has a story,” she says.

Shernaz, whose character is the Indian version of Miss Marple, feels that her character has the ability to look at crime by understanding what people are like as — “she observes everything!”

Talking about her character grappling with ageing, she says that the world treats old people “very callously”. “Retirement hits people and they already start feeling like they have nothing to give back to society. We make people feel bad about growing old. Here, we are just doing one play where an old woman (Miss Marple) is solving crime, but Agatha Christie wrote her in so many of her books and stories, and made her iconic. It’s incredible,” Shernaz says. The play has been adapted for theatre in the UK, and is recreated by the NCPA by director Melly Still and re-imagined for an Indian audience by Ayeesha Menon.

Shernaz, who is one of the most popular faces of the Indian theatre community is the daughter of Gujarati stage veterans Ruby and Burjor Patel, and was born and raised in a theatre-loving family. She says, “Everyone I know who started watching theatre when they were young have always continued to watch it.”

Talking about the state of theatre in India, Shernaz adds that the money usually goes into production of big musicals. “That’s what, unfortunately, our audiences pay to watch. I feel we need to do a lot of work at the grassroots level. We are not doing enough in our schools,” she says, adding that things are changing. “NCPA is doing good stuff, G5A is doing experimental and interesting plays, Prithvi has an entire gamut of fantastic stuff that’s been happening for years. Aram Nagar is doing these smaller productions. So, it’s a good time for theatre, because everyone is able to coexist,” she concludes.

Legendary actor Amol Palekar on why he’s returning to stage, 25 years on, with Kusur, a play based on a Danish film adapted by his wife Sandhya Gokhale
Sanchita Das (MUMBAI MIRROR; November 17, 2019)

Come November 24, a veteran thespian will take the stage he quit 25 years ago. With this, he says, he will be flagging off his last round of performances. The date holds special meaning to Amol Palekar, who turns 75 on that day. So does the venue — National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), at Nariman Point — the place he’d performed last at (in Kala Wazir Pandhra Raja).

Palekar’s life appears to have come full circle. He completed another such cycle when he turned 70, by going back to the artform he first favoured — painting. He celebrated his return to the easel with a solo exhibition after a gap of 30 years. But unlike his continued engagement with the canvas, Palekar is very categorical that Kusur — the play he is set to perform in — will not reboot his acting career. “I’ve already said that I will not take this play beyond 25 shows,” he says, “I don’t know whether I will have the fitness, energy and emotional strength to go on performing beyond this.” He also doesn’t want to limit his performances to the metros this time. “I will explore new grounds such as Guwahati, Ahmedabad, Chandigarh and smaller towns — to reach as many people as possible.”

The present exercise, he says, is homage to his followers who’ve been coaxing him to return to acting for a long time. “The kind of love and adulation I continue to enjoy, despite quitting the scene 25 years ago, and the continuous coaxing to perform, is really overwhelming,” he says. “I felt I owed my admirers one last showcasing of my talent or skills, however you may wish to put it. It had to be a show-stopper and I did not find a proper vehicle to do this, until Sandhya’s script threw out this challenge.”

Kusur is his wife Sandhya Gokhale’s adaptation of Danish film, Den Skyldige, and it’s being produced by BookMyShow. Gokhale says the script was the culmination of a long search for material that might appeal to her husband, who’d turned a reluctant actor. “I had heard him say ‘no’ just too many times,” she recounts. “He doesn’t like to do anything that does not challenge him. I was looking for a play but I am not a theatre person and I don’t take to theatre scripts. I prefer to draw my inspiration from literature and novels. When I saw this film, I thought — now here is some drama that lends itself to theatre. But nothing in the film could be associated with in the Indian context.”

“After I was done with the adaptation, I read it to Amol and he actually liked it. He demanded no changes and that is something, after my experience of scripting eight of his films. Once the script was ready, after some fine-tuning, I sent it to the original screenplay writers, and they too commended it. Adaptation is a tricky train where one cannot be truthful to the original piece of art, but when the original authors approve, it is very fulfilling.”

Palekar, who is co-directing the play with her, finds the script he is working with challenging on multiple levels. “It is terribly taxing, both physically and emotionally, and I hope, I can deliver on it,” he tells Mirror.

Palekar believes the play will afford an opportunity to present his craft — one that has been honed by observing some of the country’s doyens in theatre, primary among them being his mentor Satyadev Dubey. Palekar, who prefers to call himself an “accidental actor”, would hang around Dubey’s theatre group those days, as he was dating Chitra (now, Palekar’s ex-wife). Dubey offered him a role, with the disclaimer that he had not spotted any talent in the young man, but had simply observed that he had a lot of time to spare.

This uncharted career path got him out of the clerical bank job he’d taken on for subsistence, while he experimented with his creative outings. Dubey, who had sculpted the theatre career of many luminaries, exposed him to various theatre forms. “Back then, Dubey was networking with theatre movements across the country. Thanks to him, I got to sit in on sessions where people such as Badal Sircar, Mohan Rakesh, Vijay Tendulkar, Girish Karnad and Dubey hobnobbed and exchanged notes. It opened up new vistas for me,” he recalls wistfully.

Dubey, he says, did not hold back when it came to sharing his craft. Most important was the nuanced exposure he ensured Palekar got. “He made me go watch Kolkata’s Shyamanand Jalan perform Badal Sircar’s Evam Indrajit. It was so removed from the realistic Marathi theatre (which remains so to date) in its abstract and yet eloquent form. Then I saw Dubey’s interpretation of the same play, which, without any change to the script, managed to change the very protagonist of the play. While Jalan had made the playwright central to the play, in Dubey’s version, Indrajit’s was the pivotal role. This triggered a creative surge in me,” he reminiscences.

Palekar who went on to become a face of India’s parallel cinema, working with Basu Chatterjee (who drew him into the cinematic fold), Hrishikesh Mukherjee, Tapan Sinha, Shyam Benegal among others, points out that this body of work was done during what he considers the cultural renaissance period of the country. “The ecosystem was such that I could indulge in all three of my creative endeavours — painting, theatre and movies — between 1967 and 1984,” he says. He rules out, however, that this coming full circle will translate into a return to cinema, as he reiterates his resolve to take on commitments commensurate with his age and energy levels.

Along with his sketches, self-portraits and other artworks on a sideboard in his studio, sits a group photograph of Palekar flanked by three of his most popular costars — Zarina Wahab, Bindya Goswami and the late Vidya Sinha. All three are holding up portraits of themselves that were made by Palekar. The picture was taken five years ago during that solo exhibition to celebrate his turning 70, Palekar says.

The artist-actor-director who has been unabashedly vocal about his political views right through his career, says that the present day scenario is one of the most oppressive times he’s lived through. “Dissent was not deemed a crime even during Emergency,” adds the actor. “Today, even if we share an opinion with our friends on social media, we can be labelled secessionists,” he says, recalling the ignominy he suffered at National Gallery of Modern Art earlier this year. At that event, Palekar was repeatedly interrupted and asked to wind up his speech, when he spoke against the dissolution of the advisory committee of local artists that used to guide the gallery on exhibitions and events.

Both, Gokhale and he have made it clear that they resent the censorship theatre is subjected to in Maharashtra and Gujarat. “This is unconstitutional. When I can stage a play unfettered everywhere else, why not in these two states. We are fighting the matter in court, but at the same time, have passed Kusur’s script by the monitoring body — ironic as that may be,” Palekar scoffs.

He remains determined. Palekar, whose parents had never restrained him from pursuing his dreams — their lower middleclass station notwithstanding — says that he will continue to protest, question and criticise, unmindful of the circumstances.

Nishad Neelambaran (HINDUSTAN TIMES; October 17, 2019)

Priyanshu Painyuli, who has movies such as Rock On 2 (2016) and Bhavesh Joshi Superhero (2018) to his credit, believes that Mumbai has always had regular plays going on to keep the theatre scene alive. “The good thing about the city is that a lot of regular plays are happening. Everybody is coming up with new productions. Another point to be highlighted is that new small avenues have opened in the city apart from the usual NCPA and Prithvi theatre. These small venues help smaller productions to stage their play to a limited audience. Besides, a lot of new people have also got into theatre recently.”

The 31-year-old actor also mentions that with an active support from the government, the theatre industry can boom even now. “Now, more people are coming to the theatre to watch. I know of people who go even for repeat shows. New productions are also coming up with interesting concepts. The only thing is that if there is some kind of backing from the government and there is money coming in, then a lot of actors can take theatre as a full-time profession,” he adds.

So how can the government support the theatre industry? “We have to create a lot more avenues theatre to boom. I feel the venue costs have gone up a lot. I have been a part of a few productions where we travelled to China. Different cities in China have designated places like a park or an amphitheatre where people can come and perform or watch. We hardly have any amphitheatres or any such places in our country. If we can create more spaces, I am sure the audience will come,” says Priyanshu, who will next be seen in a movie, which will be released on an OTT platform.

Tara Sutaria and her twin sister Pia, who is a professional ballet dancer, on the performing arts, their differing interests and boy talk
Ankita Chaurasia (MUMBAI MIRROR; June 29, 2019)

The first thing that you notice about fraternal twins Tara and Pia Sutaria is that they are joined at the hip. We catch them mid laugh which gives way to conspiratorial whispers and then a warm welcoming smile. They don’t look exactly alike yet there is a similarity which is hard to miss. “People often point out that our smiles are identical and we also pose the same way,” admits Tara who recently made her Bollywood debut with Karan Johar’s Student Of The Year 2. While on the topic of the film, Pia waxes eloquent about how proud she is of her sister. “It didn’t sink in till I went for the trailer launch and saw her face plastered all over. We sat together, holding hands, watching the trailer of SOTY 2. It was surreal to see Tara on the big screen,” she gushes.

Prod Tara on why she thought a high school musical was the best launch and she quips, “The pros outweighed the cons, there are so few films in that space. It was great to kickstart my career with a film that made the most of my talents.” She is quick to point out that her second outing, Marjaavaan, is a complete departure from Mia Chawla. “It’s such an exciting time for women in entertainment, there’s so much I want to do.”

And any regrets about losing Kabir Singh to Kiara Advani given its box-office success? “It’s a remake of a hit film (Arjun Reddy) so it was bound to do well,” she reasons. Didn’t the misogynistic tone of the film rankle? “As a woman, a human being and an artiste, I know I have a certain social responsibility, but as artistes we also have a certain artistic freedom and the right to express as we please. It’s on the audience as to how they interpret that. Personally, I am a fan of both Arjun Reddy and Kabir Singh,” she avers.

While Tara is navigating her way through Bollywood now, Pia has been travelling around the world as a professional ballet dancer who also teaches kids. “That’s one thing I really hate, I don’t get to see her as much as I’d like to. Pia is always globetrotting,” she complains. Her twin is quick to point out that though she has been away from home since she was 18, they have always remained connected. “One day, in Poland, I woke up feeling something was amiss. I immediately called her in Mumbai and learnt that she had been upset all night. It’s creepy but it happens,” Pia laughs.

Is Bollywood on the cards for her too? Before Pia can reply, Tara does, “There are times when we are abroad and people walk up, rave about her exotic looks and offer her scripts instantly without even a look test while I am ignored. She should certainly give Bollywood a shot.”

Tara goes on to share that if she finds certain steps too hard, she turns to her sister for help. “We performed our first opera when we were six. All our weekends were at the NCPA. We’ve been performing on stage for so long, we can actually fall asleep there—that’s how comfortable we are on it,” Pia laughs.

But it’s not just their professions that connect them. They share secrets too and give each other relationship tips. “Tara is the responsible one and sets curfew timings for me. I am a free spirit while she is the voice of reason. She will stay up late, giving gyaan,” says Pia. Have they ever had a crush on the same guy? “Except for Richard Gere, we have completely different taste in men so thankfully it has never come to that,” Tara retorts with relief. And how does she deal with dating rumours now that she is a part of the industry? “It is amusing, and also a little flattering. In the beginning I used to wonder who this mystery guy is who they are talking about, now I can laugh it off,” she shrugs nonchalantly.

If there was a quality that they could have traded, what would it be, you wonder. Pia points out that Tara was always bullied and she would rush to her rescue. But after entering the industry, she has become more resilient, even though she remains a sensitive artiste. “I wish I could become just as strong,” she breathes in awe.

Her sister returns the favour, informing that Pia was a star student in school while she was always a little behind in academics as her focus was art and singing. “But now she is so worldly-wise, I’d like to be more like her,” she says appreciatively. Overriding her sister’s protests, Pia adds that she wants to learn how to faff like Tara. “She can spin five pages around a one-line while I can sum up five pages in a sentence. There are two types of Scorpios, we are the two ends of the spectrum,” Pia confides while her sister nods in agreement.

Seeing their camaraderie, one wonders if there’s any rivalry since they work so closely with each other. “We have never competed, rather we have been inspired by each other’s work and feed off the other’s energies. Our fields overlap all the time. Tara has to dance in her films while I sing sometimes. But there is no question of rivalry because we want the other to succeed,” asserts Pia. Finally, what’s the one thing that they hate about the other. “Both of us think that the other is messy and no one admits to it,” Tara signs off with a chuckle.

Lasyapriya Sundaram (BOMBAY TIMES; June 14, 2018)

Hyderabad-born, Delhi-bred, girl Aditi Rao Hydari came to Mumbai when the world of movies beckoned. Ask her about some of her favourite spots in the city and she says, “I love Town, walking around the Kala Ghoda area is especially a lot of fun. Walking on the cobbled paths and visiting the cafes is something that I enjoy. Every time I have gone there, I have explored a new café or store. One of the cafes there offers the best carrot cake I have ever tasted. I also love Nariman Point and the National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA). I have been trained in dance since childhood and so, I have had the opportunity to perform there. My favourite spots in Mumbai are connected with culture and the performing arts.”

Veering from the topic of South Mumbai to the suburbs, Aditi also reveals her love for theatre and why Prithvi theatre holds a special place in her heart. “Prithvi theatre is yet another favourite haunt of mine. I love watching plays and also the café. That place has lovely energy and is teeming with people who have a creative bent of mind. I especially love the Irish coffee at the café.”

The first love story from the actor’s pre-Bobby days, which didn’t culminate in a happy ending, is being adapted by Khalid Mohamed as a musical stage production
Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; March 23, 2017)


Khalid Mohamed’s Faction, a compilation of 22 by-invitation short stories by Bollywood’s big names, ranging from filmmakers like Shyam Benegal, Sai Paranjpye, Ashutosh Gowariker, Karan Johar and Basu Chatterjee to A-list actors like Akshay Kumar, Deepika Padukone, Om Puri, Sonam Kapoor and Rishi Kapoor, released in 2014. The one by Rishi about an unrequited romance struck a chord and both the actor and the filmmaker-author-playwright-critic agreed that Love In The Time Of Telegrams would make for a dramatic stage production.

“I started developing the story into a script and narrated it to Rishi. He kept adding his inputs and soon we had Rishi, a play in two acts, adapted by me from a love story by Rishi Kapoor,” informs Khalid, who still has to finesse the finale with the actor. “I went on the Kapoor & Sons location in Coonoor but the prosthetic make-up was too intricate for him to concentrate on anything else.”

That Rishi is still keen on the play is evident from the fact that in response to Khalid’s congratulations on his autobiography, Khullam Khulla, he tweeted back, “Our stage production of 'Rishi' based on an incident of mine, next stop Khalid.”

The reason the romantic musical, which includes a medley of Rishi-Neetu Singh’s chartbusters and an Elvis Presley song from an evening party, hasn’t happened yet is because the budget offered by NCPA which wanted to produce it, was an insufficient Rs 15 lakh, according to its director. “I don’t want to disappoint Rishi. I’d rather not make it than do something tacky. We need at least double the budget,” asserts Khalid who’s encouraged by the fact that a quite few backers have come forward to revive the project and even his team of actors (Amol Parashar as the young Rishi, Amit Phalke as his older avatar, Nishi Doshi as Neetu Singh, Danesh as Rishi’s secretary Ghanshyam) are still as enthusiastic.

For those who haven’t read the story, it is rooted in the ’70s, before Bobby made Rishi an overnight star. The cherubic boy from a film family in suburban Chembur fell in love with a Parsi girl from SoBo. “Her aristocratic family was not exactly pleased but the girl helped groom him for his screen debut, placing him on a diet and designing trendy costumes for him, including the iconic purple scarf,” says Khalid.

The love story blossomed despite her family’s objections. Then, a film magazine reported that Rishi was seeing his Bobby co-star Dimple Kapadia. That upset his beloved but before he could appease her, the actor had to leave town for an outdoor shoot of Zehreela Insaan. “Those were the days of trunk calls that took hours to get through. So, he started writing her lengthy telegrams professing his love which his secretary, Ghanshyam, would send from the nearest post office. She never replied even after he roped in Neetu Singh to play Cupid. On his return to Mumbai, Rishi ran into her at the newly-launched rooftop restaurant of the Taj Mahal Hotel where she was with another guy. That drove Rishi crazy. He got tipsy beyond control and got into a brawl with the ‘other’ man even as Ghanshyam threatened to buy the Taj right there and then,” narrates Khalid.

That was their last meeting. Rishi fell in love with Neetu and eventually married her. The Parsi girl settled down in London where she died years later of cancer. After she was gone, her mother met Rishi and confessed that she had not given any of the impassioned telegrams to her daughter, not wanting to encourage the romance. The girl died without knowing how much he loved her.

“As long as the girl’s name is not mentioned and there is no direct reference to her family, no one has any objections to the love story being played out on another platform,” says Khalid.

Could the 100-odd-minute play turn into a film with Rishi playing himself in a cameo? “Well, movies have come out of stage productions, so we can’t say how Rishi will play out. But there’s no possibility of Rishi Kapoor playing a role except of course as the writer of the original story,” Khalid signs off.

Benita Fernando (MID-DAY; October 9, 2016)

You know you are in entertainment when, on a warm afternoon, you are asked what you’d like to drink — green tea or water. Our caffeine and adrak chai-fuelled nerves politely refuse and we gaze at some 30 dancers in a rehearsal studio at Mukti Cultural Hub, Andheri West. Some girls are stretching; some winding yards of ghunghroo round their ankles; the rest recall the steps for the song Teri Mehfil Mein Kismat Azmakar.

This song from the iconic 1960 film Mughal-e-Azam, we will remember, put two courtesans — Anarkali (Madhubala) and Bahar (Nigar Sultana) — in a qawwali duel, watched over by Prince Salim (Dilip Kumar). Sung by Lata Mangeshkar and Shamshad Begum, the song preluded a jealous Bahar who will rat out on Salim’s affection for Anarkali to Emperor Akbar (Prithviraj Kapoor) and begin the ruinous path for the young lovers.

Now, for the first time, Mughal-e-Azam — the juggernaut among Bollywood productions on which director K. Asif spent Rs 1.5 crore — will be brought to stage as a musical under Feroz Abbas Khan (right)’s direction.

With shows running from October 22 to November 1 at the National Centre for Performing Arts (NCPA), how is a three-hour-long film being made into a two-and-a-half-hour-long musical?

Keeping it grounded
Khan, who has earlier directed plays such as Tumhari Amrita and, more recently, Dinner With Friends, says that bringing Mughal-e-Azam from screen to stage has been a very daunting experience. He wasn’t just dealing with an epic but that “memories passed on from generation to generation” were at stake. “While we have introduced modern elements into the play, we have to respect people’s memories of the film. There has to be a blend of nostalgia and the modern,” he says.

So, Khan is staying faithful to the original plot, without attempting to modernise it or re-vision it. It is one of those situations where you know exactly how the story ends, and you draw comfort from it. And there’s no bigger sentimentalist than Khan in this regard, who watched the film as a child in one of the single-screen theatres dotting Grant Road. "Mughal-e-Azam was the staple of Eid celebrations when it was screened repeatedly,” recalls Khan.

Khan had approached NCPA with the idea of turning the film into a live performance. “NCPA suggested that I throw open the idea to the Shapoorji Pallonji Group, which holds the original rights to the movie. They loved the idea and said that it ought to be made the way Mughal-e-Azam ought to be made,” says Khan, whose first experience with directing musicals was in 1991 with Eva Mumbai Ma Chal Jaiye, a Gujarati adaptation of West Side Story.

Khan is certain that Mughal-e-Azam makes for great theatre, even when it was made into a film. “In those days, cinema came from theatre. Dialogue was powerful and performance techniques were like those of theatre,” he says. A few scenes and songs have been cut, but Khan is hopeful that it won’t affect the spirit of the film. Three new songs have been composed by Piyush Kanojia.

Khan doesn’t want to reveal the cast. Why? There is double-casting to keep up with the momentum of shows and, therefore, there are just too many names. We are not particularly buying it. Likewise, we are sworn to secrecy about costumes by Manish Malhotra. He adds that finding people who are “a looker, a singer, an actor and a dancer” — the way you see it at Broadway — is hard to come by in India.


Grand yet intimate
Unable to resist, Khan escapes into the dance studio, his feet moving to the rhythm of the songs. The modern elements that the director refers to are in the form dance interpretations and production.

Leading the choreography is Bengaluru-based contemporary dancer Mayuri Upadhya (above), who recently did work for this week’s Bollywood release Mirzya. Carefully observing each dancer, Upadhya draws our attention to a dance interpretation of how the brat Salim becomes a more responsible prince. “There is a change — from nothing to something. We have devised the same through Kathak,” she says.

Deepesh Salgia (left), the director of Shapoorji Pallonji Group, joins us to watch the rehearsal, knocking off his shoes and leaning against the mirrors. For the company, known to have big stakes in construction and real estate, Mughal-e-Azam is one of its only two film investments, along with Ganga Jamuna (1961) . How many times has he watched Mughal-e-Azam? “It has three lakh frames,” says the man who led the 150-personnel strong team for the colouring of the film in 2004. He says that Mughal-e-Azam isn’t about the spectacle but rather about two questions that continue to be relevant even today: A person’s right to love and the choice between public and private interests. Swiftly quoting from the movie, Salgia knows that the company landed a big buck not because of the box office, but because love and empires never go out of fashion.