Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; November 24, 2015)

Shabana Azmi remembers Shekhar Kapur as a compulsive storyteller. "There was a joke in our family, "Bhago bhago Shekhar aaya hai, phir kahani sunayega!" That didn't deter him, he'd carry on undaunted!" she laughs, adding that he narrated the stories so cinematically, she was convinced that he'd make a good director even though he'd had no formal training or assisted anyone.

Devi Dutt, Guru Dutt's brother, who'd worked with her as production manager on many Shyam Benegal's films, wanted to cast Shabana in his first production. She suggested Shekhar's name as director and he debuted in 1983 with Masoom. It revolved around a couple DK and Indu (Naseeruddin Shah and Shabana Azmi) whose lives are disrupted with the appearance of Rahul (Jugal Hansraj), the 'proof' of DK's infidelity when Indu was pregnant with their first-born Rinky (Urmila Matondkar).

"Shekhar started with a long, complicated trolley shot to establish the hustle-bustle in the office where Naseer worked. It took several takes to get it right but the crew was visibly impressed," Shabana narrates.

A couple of days later, he decided to film the song "Huzoor Is Kadar Bhi Na Itra Ke Chaliye" without a choreographer and Shabana was aghast because Shekhar was not known for his dancing skills. She knew that having acted opposite him in Toote Khilone. "Naseer and Saeed Jaffrey were no Rudolf Nureyev either so I was certain he was on a suicide mission. He kept saying, 'Trust me, I just want them to indulge in some tomfoolery, choreographed steps will make the whole thing fake!' He was right. I saw Naseer and Saeed shed their inhibitions and have such a blast that the song continues to be a favourite even today at parties thrown by friends my age," Shabana admits.

Shekhar and Naseer hit it off really well and the children - Jugal, Urmila and Aradhana -- adored him. But Shabana wasn't entirely comfortable with her director. She complained to Naseer that he treated her like Dresden China. She argued that if he didn't like a shot he should say so upfront instead of handling her with kid gloves. He reasoned that Shekhar wanted his actors to feel protected and secure. "So don't force him to adopt a manner that's not instinctively his!" he warned. She kept grumbling.

She modelled Indu on a friend, Sushma Motwane, and visited her at home to observe her closely. "Delhi women are different from Mumbai women. I can't put my finger on it but it helped that I had a real person I could base Indu on," she acknowledges.

Bijon Das Gupta, a family friend, was the art director, and Shekhar encouraged her to personalise Indu's room so it felt like a home and not a set. "Have a box to put away your jewellery every night, a place to bring out the quilts from," he advised. She was delighted with a director who cared about details when dressing tables in mainstream films had the standard eau de cologne bottle, Ponds talcum powder, Charmis cold cream and black comb pulled out of the make-up dada's bag. Shekhar's ex-wife Medha was his assistant and in charge of the kids' costumes. She took pains to make them look authentic. Gulzar's dialogue was shorn off all artifice, with Shekhar borrowing the "You stupid" phrase from his nieces and adding it as a refrain the sisters, Rinky and Mini, hurl at each other.

Shabana confides she knew right away Urmila would be a 'heroine' as she danced like a pro, was always prepared, posed and sensitive. "The scene where she opens the door to find Naseeer and me fighting is etched in my mind. Years later, she played my daughter in Tehzeeb and confides in me like a daughter," she smiles.

The real hero was Jugal who looked like a beautiful wounded deer. Shekhar spent hours on the scene where he walks into the house for the first time. "Shekhar resisted the temptation of taking close-ups of the actors' faces. Instead he made me stand on the top of the staircase looking cold and forbidding, Jugal at the bottom looking helpless and unwelcome, Naseer guilty and unsure and the daughters awkward. The tension in the scene is palpable because the camera holds the frame in long shot," Shabana reminisces, saying 30 years later, people tell her Masoom is their favourite film. "Even kids like me though my character is so harsh with the young and innocent. I'm not complaining!"

Rishi Kapoor pays tribute to Saeed Jaffrey who was his co- star in several films
MID-DAY (November 17, 2015)

Veteran Bollywood actor Saeed Jaffrey, who appeared in several British and Indian movies, passed away on Sunday. He was 86.

Rishi Kapoor, who had acted with Jaffrey in films like Henna (1991), Ajooba (1991) and Saagar (1985) says, “Saeed and I were great friends when we were working together, though we have had a considerable age difference. We have done several films together. He was a fine actor and had a great sense of humour. He would always be found in a jovial mood. I am glad he lived his life fully. He was a good guy. We will miss him.”

Jaffrey is known for his roles in movies like Gandhi (1982), Shatranj Ke Khiladi (1977) and Ram Teri Ganga Maili (1985) among many others. The news of his death was announced by his niece Shaheen Aggarwal on Facebook. The actor collapsed at his London home from a brain haemorrhage and never regained consciousness. He was married to actress and writer, Madhur Jaffery, but the parted ways in 1965. With Madhur, he has three daughters Meera, Zia and Sakina Jaffrey, who is also an actress. In 1980, Jaffrey married casting director Jennifer Sorrell.

Anil Kapoor remembers Saeed Jaffrey as a man with a strong command over various langauges, whose gaalis seemed like Ghalib's sher
MUMBAI MIRROR (November 17, 2015)

I met Saeed Jaffrey saab for the first time during the shooting of Mashaal in 1984. I remember him as a fair gentleman who was very British. Hearing him speak angrezi, I wondered if he could even speak Hindi. I was stumped when I heard him. His command over Hindi and Urdu was unbelievable! And that was perhaps why Satyajit Ray signed him for Shatranj Ke Khiladi.

He played Mir Roshan Ali while Sanjeev Kumar was Mirza Sajjad Ali in the '77 historical drama. The inseparable buddies are so obsessed with the game of chess that they neglect their wives, abandon their families and disown their responsibilities to play in exile, untroubled that the British are set to overthrow their Nawab, Wajid Ali Shah, and take control of Awadh. I am a huge admirer of Sanjeev Kumar but in this film, I have to admit, Saeed saab outscored him with his perfect diction. He looked every inch the Lucknavi nobleman.

Even off screen, he looked like a respectable raees till he suddenly started abusing. But he made even gaalis sound beautiful, like pearls or, even better, Ghalib ke sher. Once a fan walked up to him and started praising him to the skies, "Saeed saab aap ne zabardast kaam kiya hai." Delighted, he wondered which film the man was talking about, only to learn that he was really impressed by a Pan Parag commercial and not a performance with Sean Connery, Dilip Kumar or Sanjeev Kumar. Bas aur kya, he abused the man roundly. Satish Kaushik does a great take- off on this!

Besides Mashaal, we worked together in Vijay, Eeshwar, Ram Lakhan, Ghar Ho To Aisa and Trimurti. In Ram Lakhan, he had more scenes with Raakheeji but in Eeshwar, we had a lot of screen time together and he impressed me with his timing. His confrontation scenes with Raza Murad in Ram Teri Ganga Maili when he takes up for Mandakini's Ganga were also memorable. High drama as opposed to the subtle performance in Shatranj Ke Khiladi. Even in Mashaal he gave Dilip (Kumar) saab equal takkar!

On the sets you wondered if he would "connect" on screen. Not only did he connect, he was pure magic on camera. In fact, the camera was his God. Before every shot, he would go up to it, touch it, reverently, and seek its blessings.

He had just one weakness. He loved drinking. But no matter how long he stayed up, he'd be on the sets at 7 am sharp, fresh, raring to go, seeking the camera's blessings.

I hadn't met him since he went on a sabbatical. But Saaed saab will always be remembered for his talent, dignity, passion and command over the language. As told to Roshmila Bhattacharya

ABOUT SAEED JAFFREY

The veteran, who passed away at the age of 86 following a brain haemorrhage in London, had carved a niche for himself as a prolific actor with films like Shatranj Ke Khiladi (1977), Masoom (1983), Chashme Buddoor(1981) and Mandi (1983).

Born in Punjab's Maler Kotla city, he moved to Delhi, where he founded his own English language company, Unity Theatre.

He married twice - first to co-actress and travel writer Mehrunima (Madhur Jaffrey). They parted in 1965. He later married Jennifer, his casting agent, in 1980. Saeed and Madhur have three daughters together, Meera, Zia and Sakina, the latter is an actress.

He appeared in over 200 movies, some of them international projects like Gandhi, The Man Who Would Be King, A Passage to India, Sphinx, My Beautiful Laundrette, The Deceivers and After Midnight. He was also part of TV series like Gangster, The Jewel in the Crown, Common as Muck and Coronation Street. He was the first Indian to be conferred with the Order of the British Empire for his contributions to drama.

Sonil Dedhia & Renuka Vyavahare (BOMBAY TIMES; November 17, 2015)

MUMBAI MIRROR (August 26, 2014)


August 29, 1923 - August 24, 2014

'Of course I know you. You are Mr Jinnah!' is how I'm often greeted around the world. From London to New York to Berlin to Brussels to Brazil and even to Honolulu. Gandhi has had such a global impact — not only as a movie, but also as a human experience - that people still remember me for my portrayal of the founder of Pakistan, even years and years after the film was released.

It was a fascinating experience playing Mohammed Ali Jinnah in an international film being directed by one of my boyhood heroes, Richard Attenborough. My thoughts go back many years to a cocktail party in Bombay, given for Sir Richard. There were quite a few theatre people around and the legendary director and I spent about five minutes or so together. At first glance, Attenborough struck me as a stocky, affable banker, but I soon appreciated his intellectual vitality. We discussed Death of a Salesman, which was the play I was performing in at the time.

The next morning my telephone rang.

'Is that Mr Alyque Padamsee?'

'Yes', I replied.

'Richard Attenborough here.'

'Good morning, Mr Attenborough.'

'Mr Padamsee, I was wondering whether you would care to be my Jinnah in the film Gandhi. Which as you know I'm directing.'

'Really? You want me? I mean, you want me to come for a screen test, right?'

'No, no. I want you to play Jinnah.'

'Without any screen test? I've never been in the movies.'

'I know you are a theatre actor and I have great faith in stage experience. I cut my teeth in the theatre myself. I've cast Ben Kingsley as Gandhi. And he's a theatre actor, not a film actor. I've cast Roshan Seth as Nehru. He, too, is from the stage. I'm about to cast Rohini Hattangady as Kasturba Gandhi and Saeed Jaffrey as Sardar Patel, and they've both been on the boards, so why not you?'

So I said, 'Why yes! I'll be honoured. I hope there'll be some money in it. He replied, 'Well, not much. This is an art film.' Now Richard Attenborough is a smart man. The film went on to make $200 million, and he paid us as if it were an art film. But still, no regrets. It was an honour.

Then he said to me, 'Is it possible for you to go to London next week? I'l1 send you the ticket, of course. I want you measured out for Mr Jinnah's clothes, because they've got to be very special.' I replied, 'Yes, marvellous. I'd love a trip to London.' And before I knew it, I was playing a role in what later turned out to be one of the greatest epic films ever made.

For my first shoot, I travelled to Delhi and stayed at the Ashoka Hotel. The night I arrived, a one-page schedule called the 'call-sheet' was slipped under my door. The call-sheet for 'Mr Jinnah' read:

5.30 a.m. Wake-up call.

6.00 a.m. Breakfast served in the room.

6.30 a.m. Make-up in the cafeteria downstairs.

7.00 a.m. Report in the lobby for the car to take you to location.

Sure enough, I got my wake-up call at 5.30 am. and breakfast was served at 6.00 am. At 6.30, I was in the make-up room, where I met Saeed Jaffrey, whom I hadn't seen for at least a year. Saeed is a jovial raconteur who can keep you spellbound for hours. Since we used to be in the theatre together, we chatted away about old times. Suddenly I looked at my watch and said, 'I'd better rush for my car.' I raced to the lobby and went to the Car Scheduler, an Englishman. (I couldn't believe that Attenborough had brought a guy all the way from England just to schedule cars. I soon learnt why.)

I walked up to him. 'Mr Johnson, is my car ready?'

'You are Mr Jinnah, sir?'

'Yes.'

'What time was your car called for?'

'7 o'clock.'

'Sir, the car has gone.'

'What do you mean, it's gone?'

'Well sir, it's getting on to two minutes past seven and the car has gone. It's taken the other actors who were also assigned that car to the location.'

'Oh my God! What do I do?'

'Sir, what you do is be on time. Every time.'

'I'm sorry. But I'm only two minutes late.'

'Sir, two minutes is a lot of money.'

'Anyway, how do I get out of this jam?'

'Sir, I believe Mr Saeed Jaffrey is due to leave at 7.15 a.m. Maybe we can try and squeeze you in with him and the others.'

Saeed was there at 7.14. When we got into the car, I asked, 'Saeed what is this crazy business? I mean two minutes past seven is hardly late.' And he replied, 'Aap nahin jaante. Woh paagal hai, timing ke liye. Indian time nahin chalega. Elastic time jo hota hai India mein, bilkul nahin chalega. You've got to be absolutely punctual.'

When we reached the location, I went up to Attenborough.

'Good morning, Richard.' He looked at me and said, 'Aleck, you are very late.'

'I'm sorry, Richard, I missed the car by two minutes.'

'Aleck, let me explain one thing since this is your first day of shooting. This film is costing us 1,000 pounds a minute. So two minutes is 2,000 pounds down the drain.'

Considering the fact that I was getting less than 2,000 for my role in the entire movie, I had spent it all before I had given my first take! 'I'm sorry, Richard. It won't happen again.'

'I sincerely hope not,' he replied and we got down to shooting.
-------------------------
My first thought when I heard the news was 'I was so lucky to have worked with him'. Gandhi released in 1982 but Sir Richard and I kept in touch. Every Christmas I received a handwritten card from him and his wife Sheila and as I am not tech-savvy, I too responded over snail mail. The news of his passing has shaken me.
- Bhanu Athaiya

The great thing about Richard was his accessibility. Even when he was wheeled to the nursing home after falling sick, he continued to write me emails, updating about his health. I last met him for tea in London in 2006 and he was keeping quite well. We fondly reminisced about the Gandhi days and he remembered every character and how they were cast. There was a close battle between Rohini Hattangadi and Smita Patil for Kasturba's character, but I never wanted Smita. I made him meet Rohini at a Mumbai hotel and the minute she walked in, he grabbed my arm and said:"That's my Kasturba. She just needs to lose 11 kilos!" The same happened with Alyque. When Richard came home for dinner one evening much before Gandhi began and saw Alyque, he told me that he had found his Jinnah.
- Dolly Thakore

MILESTONES

♦ Attenborough started off by playing underdogs in films like Brighton Rock, Seance on a Wet Afternoon and 10 Rillington Place.

♦ In 1969 he directed his first film, Oh What a Lovely War.

♦ Attenborough's fifth film as a director, Gandhi, scooped eight Oscars, including that of the best director.

♦ In 1987 he produced Cry Freedom, a film about South African civil rights activist Steve Biko.

♦ His eighth film as a director was a biopic of Charlie Chaplin.

♦ In 1993 he played the eccentric developer John Hammond in Jurassic Park and a year later starred in a remake of Miracle on 34th Street. 

Aditi Sharma (MUMBAI MIRROR; April 6, 2014)

Every day of my life turns into a memory, but this picture is special. It came to mind because Richard Attenborough has been unwell for a while and I’ve been thinking about the work we did together for Gandhi. This particular picture was taken in November 1979, after the mahurat of the film, which is why we are wearing garlands. There’s chief sound director Simon Kaye, co-producer Rani Dube, Ben Kingsley, Rohini Hattangadi, Saeed Jafferi, Richard and I, standing by his side. The photograph is from so long ago, I can barely recognise myself in it.

Rani had brought Richard to my house. In those days, the house was barely furnished, so we sat on the mattress and spoke about Richard’s plans. I had a collage of Alyque’s (Padamsee) pictures from his plays. Richard saw them, asked me if I’d like to be the casting director for his film and that was it. Once work began, Quasar (her son) and I moved to Delhi to stay with the crew from September to February.

Most of the people I met then, have remained friends. Rohini is a very affectionate friend. Much after the film released, every time she performed in town, her husband, (the late theatre director) Jaidev and she would come over for dinner. I had seen Rohini in a play and I rang up Richard to tell him about her. He was to fly back to London from Delhi but he cancelled his ticket and re-routed the trip through Mumbai to meet Rohini. I booked a room at the Centaur for the meeting. Richard flew in from Delhi and Rohini made it after her performance. Richard walked in, he clutched my hand and said, “This is it, doll.” Rohini had to lose weight to play the part. I would go with her to the dietician because I knew she’d never do it on her own. Those were different times with their own considerations. Why else would a casting director accompany an actress for her weightloss programme. I learnt so much while casting for Gandhi. No other film I’ve worked on has given me the experience and freedom that I had on this one. You don’t get that kind of attention to detail these days. I remember Ben Kingsley would spend 4-5 hours on his make-up every day. When we’d shoot, all the villagers would touch his feet because they thought he really was Gandhi. Ben worked very hard for his part. He trained for two months, learned to sit cross-legged, sweep the floor, and even eat like Gandhi. He had to be particularly aware of not eating meat or drinking beer even though he was an actor playing the part of Gandhi. A few years after Gandhi released, some ‘junior actors’ came to Mumbai and started working in films. Om Puri, for instance, had only a two-minute role in the film but in those few minutes he displayed the unforgettable signs of a great actor. So many actors who played bit parts in the film went on to have glorious acting careers.