How we do injustice to Nana Patekar
If psychiatrist Carl Jung were to pick up one person to converse with from popular Hindi cinema he would most likely settle upon what would come across as a highly unlikely choice - Nana Patekar. In a near ode to the Jungian theory of complexes and his famed tool of word association, Patekar’s entire life has been destined to be forever associated with the word "unlikely".
The news of Patekar’s munificence towards farmers of the drought-hit regions of Maharashtra, of not only donating money but also setting up a foundation, Naam, along with Makrand Anaspure, that goes beyond monetary aid has been seen by many to be an action unlikely to be associated with a film star.
Patekar also donated sewing machines to the families of the farmers who had committed suicide in 2015 to help their rehabilitation by empowering them to earn their daily bread. This is just another addition to a long list of activities that the actor has been known for and therefore, both the term "unlikely" and the reaction his actions have generated isn't something new for Patekar.
When Patekar first forayed into Hindi cinema he would have been immediately branded as highly "unlikely" to make it big in spite of some captivating early performances such as the one in Gaman (1978) - by all accounts his big screen debut, where he played Vasu, the greedy brother of Yashodhara (Gita Siddarth).
Even with an above the line billing in films such Ankush (1986) and Pratighaat (1987), with the former being both critically and commercially well received, Patekar continued to be an unlikely fit in the greater scheme of things.
By the mid-1980s Om Puri and Pankaj Kapur had set more than a precedent for unlikely "faces" to be acceptable, and Patekar was yet another unlikely talent that was as much at home in arthouse as he was in outright commercial fare such as Andhaa Yudh (1988).
Post the runaway success of Parinda (1989), he became an unlikely villain and at the same time, he showed unlikely flair for comedy as Natwarlal aka Dhrushtadyumna padmanabh Prajapati Neelkant Dhumketu Barish Kar in Amol Palekar's Thoda sa Romani Ho Jaye (1988) which was far removed from the popular slapstick variety of Kader Khan, Asrani and Jagdeep at that time.
Patekar then transformed himself in an unlikely director with Prahaar: The Final Attack (1991) that remains one of the best studies of men in uniform in India cinema. Patekar also played the lead role of a tough Major, who is proud to defend the nation from external threats but doesn't know how to tackle the invisible enemy amongst us.
Even though Patekar was firmly committed to the ethos of popular Hindi cinema, he could still manage to remain away from tags such as "character actor", "second lead", and so on. It is perhaps because of this that he could play Prahaar's military commando, an untouchable in British India in Diksha (1991) and a migrant labourer who shares a flat with over 30 people in Bombay in Disha (1991) in a single year.
The next year he went on to become an unlikely star with Mehul Kumar's Tirangaa (1992) where he played an over the top police officer Shivajirao Wagle alongside a still over the top Raaj Kumar as Brigadier Suryadev Singh. The same year, Patekar also played the terrifying son of a tender-hearted don in Angaar (1992) and the voice of consciousness for a young upstart who becomes too big too soon in Raju Ban Gaya Gentleman (1992).
For some, Patekar's recent generosity towards people, for whom there might not be any difference between Patekar the man and the celestial body from which the term often used to describe people like him is derived from, might appear exceptional.
But, for Patekar, this isn't anything unique. Even when he metamorphosed into an unlikely superstar with Mehul Kumar’s Krantiveer (1994) and found himself in the "Rs 50 lakh bracket", or what was then the top league for stars, he donated a large chunk of his fee to charities.
Once after signing a film post his newfound superstardom, Patekar instructed the producer to send three cheques of Rs 10 lakh each to Medha Patkar, Baba Amte and a Pune-based trust called Apang Sahikari Sanstha and maintained that this wasn’t charity but something he did for his own satisfaction.
When it comes to popular Hindi cinema, there are two things that indicate an actor’s successful makeover into a star – everyone wants to work with him even if it means playing second fiddle and the film press gets more interested in his off-screen activities.
Throughout the 1990s Patekar continued to be paired with few of the biggest stars around such as Jackie Shroff in Agni Sakshi (1996), Salman Khan and Manisha Koirala in Khamoshi: The Musical (1996), Amitabh Bachchan in Kohraam (1999), Gulzar in Hu Tu Tu (1999) and remained a huge draw even though his solo lead films were fewer and their box-office collections weren’t as high. For instance, Ghulam-e-Mustafa (1997) and Yeshwant (1997).
His attitude, namely his so-called irascibility, and his supposed romance with Manisha Koirala as well as his relationship with his son, Malhar, were discussed in great detail by the press, but Patekar never changed how he was. He continued his stint with the Territorial Army that he had joined in the early 1990s and got serious about shooting as a sport.
In 2008, Patekar was conferred the honorary rank of Lieutenant Colonel by the Army and even competed as a professional shooter in a few open National Shooting Championships.
Considering the interesting times we live in, Patekar yet again in an unlikely fashion balanced these with actively participating in social activities and even managed to plug in an inspired performance every now and then.
A decade since Krantiveer put him in the limelight, Patekar delivered one of the best roles in his career in Ab Tak Chappan (2004), again a completely unexpected and highly unlikely smash hit, and soon followed it up with an essay of a stylised small town political bigwig in Apharan (2005), a gangster who gives into his creative urges in Welcome (2007) and earlier this year, lived the lifetime of a thespian in Mahesh Manjrekar’s Natsmarat (2016).
While the film might play to the gallery Patekar’s Ganpat Ramchandra Belwalkar, a legendary stage superstar who finds the thought of living excruciating once he retires nearly mirrors what the world would see of Patekar.
Like Belwalkar, perhaps somewhere Patekar, too, finds the concept of life being a stage hollow once the acting stops. Patekar’s participation in raising both awareness as well as money for the families of the farmers who lost their lives to drought has brought to notice the plight of our fellow countrymen.
Besides adopting villages, donating Rs 15,000 to over 60 farmer families, Patekar’s foundation had already collected over Rs 22 crore in donations from people and has also inspired fellow actor Akshay Kumar to join the initiative.
Kumar donated Rs 90 lakh to Patekar’s foundation and even distributed cheques worth Rs 50,000 to 30 families in Marathwada’s Beed district. For someone who maintains that he was “born a middle class man and will die a middle class man.”, Patekar has never been one to indulge in trumpery.
Maybe it’s time to bestow yet another honorific upon Patekar, this one of him being an unlikely rock star. After all, who better than Patekar could personify rock legend Prince’s words, "What's the use of money if you ain't gonna break the mould?"