The days leading up to the premiere of Rang De Basanti provided interesting learnings in innovation and resilience. When we saw the rough cuts, our team was riding high in anticipation of the movie’s reception. But when it was time to get our censor certificate, usually a formality, the chair of the Censor Board called me with some bad news.
"We are not ready to issue the censor certificate," was the apology. "Not that we found anything offensive about your film, just that we want you to get approval from the air force and the defence ministry before we sign off."
The movie’s military angle, the death of pilot Ajay Rathod in a Russian MiG crash, hit close to home. That much we knew, since the Censor Board hesitated to issue a certificate. The implications, though, were disturbing. The news would have been unwelcome for any of our films, but Rang De Basanti was UTV’s grandest effort then and, with a budget of Rs 400 million, our largest investment at that time.
On Rang De Basanti
When news of the Censor Board’s concerns came in, we rallied the troops and planned a meeting with Rakeysh, Aamir and the other principals. By the time we gathered at Aamir’s place in Bandra, the censor board chairman had got back to me with some additional news. “Look, we’re trying to get a special screening organised tomorrow on an emergency basis with the head of the air force,” she said, trying her best to sound helpful. “We just want them to see the movie.”
Of our group, Aamir was most vocal about protesting if things didn’t go in our favour at the following day’s screening. “I think we’ve made the movie with a very clean heart,” Aamir said. “We’re as patriotic as the next guy. I’m telling you, Ronnie, if they want us to cut a single frame of that film, I’m not going to allow it. In that case, let’s not release it.”
We went to Delhi and held the screening as scheduled… Not only was the head of the air force in attendance, but the heads of the army and the navy, as well as the then defence minister, Pranab Mukherjee.
Two-and-a-half hours later when the lights came up, Rakeysh, Aamir and I went in front of the group to answer questions. The heads of the army and the navy both liked the film and had little to say. “I really enjoyed the movie, too. What’s the problem?” the defence minister asked with a shrug. In Rang De Basanti, much of the blame for Ajay’s death falls on the shoulders of the defence minister. Clearly, Pranab Mukherjee wasn’t bothered by the parallel.
The last to speak was the head of the air force. “I think it’s a fine movie... And we would never censor a movie except under extreme circumstances.” We all breathed a sigh of relief, the crisis averted. “All I can tell you,” he continued, “is that I get about ten calls a month from the mothers of my boys who fly the MiGs. Of course, they’re concerned about their sons’ safety. We all are. Who wouldn’t be? But after this movie, I’m going to get a hundred calls a month.” With that, he sat back and folded his hands across his lap. “Best of luck.”
The Swades saga
In 2003, Swades, one of my favourite movie projects and later the namesake for our Swades Foundation, was filming in rural India. Shah Rukh Khan plays Mohan Bhargava, a NASA engineer, who returns to his home in India after the death of his parents.
On one particular day, filming took Shah Rukh’s character to a village that was a train ride away, to meet one of its poorest inhabitants, an old man. His return would invite some soul-searching, the visit compelling him to rethink his attitude towards his old home in India. Ashutosh Gowariker insisted that the old man’s hut be the real thing, set in a desolate area with sparse mountains surrounding it on all sides...
We embarked that morning on a long drive... Later at lunch, we all sat under some makeshift umbrellas in the scorching heat. My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked: “Ashu, I’ve been wondering, what’s so unique about this location? What do you want your audience to see?” He gave me an intense look and pointed over my shoulder to an unusually shaped, three-peaked mountain far in the distance. He wanted that remarkable piece of scenery as his backdrop when Shah Rukh entered the hut to meet the man.
Three seconds of screen time in a three-hour-and-15-minute film. But when I see those three seconds, I’m proud of the team that stayed with its convictions and supported the captain.
Dream With Your Eyes Open, Rupa; Rs 500. |
Reprinted with the publisher's permission.