Anirudh Nair ran the distance between the Bollywood dream and the Bollywood reality. Here is his story.

 

I am an actor. It is probably useful at this stage to qualify that statement. I am a stage actor. I don’t say this with any disdain for my fellow actors in cinema but rather to put into context my association with the ‘film world’, which is close to none; my understanding of how the film industry functions, which is negligible, and my expectations of individuals existing in that universe. That is where this story begins.

 

One fine morning I received a call for a screen test for Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra’s Bhaag Milkha Bhaag. Though I have never had great aspirations as an actor to make the big transition to Bollywood, I would be lying if I said my heart didn’t skip a beat when half way through the audition the casting director whipped out his phone and made a call straight to Mr. Mehra saying there was someone he strongly felt should be considered for the title role in the film.

 

Things moved pretty swiftly from that point on. A week later I was due to leave for London and then onto New York for two months to commence work on a theatre project, when the casting director called me and said that it was imperative that I fly down to Mumbai immediately to meet with Mr. Mehra. So I booked myself on a flight to Mumbai from Delhi and spent the day at Mr. Mehra’s office reading the script cover to cover and then sitting in on a meeting with Mr. Mehra over lunch. We talked about life and the theatre and art and my training and interests in a candid one-on-one in his office.

 

Through all of this I was of course more than a little bit star struck and overwhelmed— in casual conversation over lunch with the director of films like Rang De Basanti and Delhi-6!

 

About a month later I received a call from Mr. Mehra’s PA telling me that I needed to be in Mumbai for a second screen test urgently, within the next couple of days. I told them that it would be very difficult since I was in London, set to depart for NYC the next day. They seemed quite certain that there was no way around it and so I immediately booked myself on a flight from London to Mumbai and an onward journey from Mumbai to NYC. I should mention at this point that all my travel was paid for out of my own pocket with the unspoken understanding that it would be sorted out later. But then perhaps it is my presumptiveness that is the villain of this piece.

 

Mr. Mehra himself was present for the screen test this time round. We worked meticulously through three scenes from the film with Mr. Mehra being very hands-on and pushing me hard to clarify the tiniest details— an experience I value to this day. As far as a day in the life of a jobbing actor goes, this was a pretty darn exciting one. I left for NYC on a high, thinking that the fact that I had come this far was commendable enough and, even if I didn’t get the role, this experience was reward enough.

 

Another month passed before Mr. Mehra’s PA got in touch with me again telling me that Mr. Mehra was in New York with his family and would very much like to meet with me. I joined them at their hotel and once again had a long conversation with Mr. Mehra, this time specifically about the film and my audition. He told me that there would be much to be worked on but that he was definitely keen to take this to the next step. What remained was a final physical audition in which they would film me running since that was such a major part of the film. He explained to me how he was very intent on casting a ‘new face’ as the lead in the film since he wanted the film to be about Milkha Singh, the man and not the actor. In all fairness he did also warn me that the financiers might think otherwise and want an established actor for the lead.

 

I returned to Delhi full of all these thoughts, trying desperately to keep my excitement in check. The running test was soon set up and a crew met me in Delhi. Thinking back now, I wonder at what point all of this started to become real for me. At what point did I stop and say to myself, “Wow! I think this actually might be happening!” Was it at the end of the screen test I flew half way round the world for? Was it when I met Mr. Mehra for coffee at his hotel in New York City? Or was it after the running audition, when I was asked to immediately start training with the national athletics coach who was to train up the actors for the film? Or perhaps it was when I was told to not take up any other big projects as the schedule for the shoot was being decided.

 

And so I started training, turned down what work came my way and prepared myself for what was to come. Writing this now I realize how naïve of me it was to carry on like this with little more than the intermittent verbal assurance that things were delayed but definitely on track. And for this I have no one to blame but myself.

 

In the meantime, among the offers I received, one was to perform in a play that would rehearse in Kerala for two months and subsequently go on tour in South India. The opportunity was far too exciting to pass up so I got in touch with the producer P. S. Bharathi who advised me to go ahead and take up the project, as it seemed that the schedule had been delayed further. And so I did.

 

I was immersed in my new play but couldn’t help notice that another month had gone by without any communication from them. When I eventually did try to get in touch with someone, anyone, from the project, I was met with a week of unanswered phone calls and emails. It soon became clear why. Friends of mine from Delhi soon called to tell me that they had just read in the Delhi Times that Farhan Akhtar had been chosen to play Milkha Singh in Rakeysh Mehra’s new film.

 

Rejection is part of being an actor. The factors that go into selecting an actor, especially for a role in a film are numerous. Height, weight, complexion, age, hair, accent, the list is endless. And finally, if all the above check out, ability.

 

Was I upset that I didn’t get to do the film? Yes, of course I was! But that did not begin to match either my utter confusion at how this situation had played itself out, nor my anger at my own gullibility. Given how much I had invested in this project already (monetarily and otherwise) is it truly unimaginable to have expected a simple call or email or even a text to tell me that their plans had changed? The truth is that it probably was. Working actors in Mumbai will probably read this, scoff and say, “Welcome to my world… ” This probably happens every week to countless aspiring actors.

 

What bothers me now, in retrospect, is only the fact that for them this probably was a complete non-issue. Again, in my naiveté, I had assumed that in the three meetings I had with the director some sort of a relationship had been forged between two individuals. A relationship, which in my book, at the very least warranted a simple phone call.

 

Recently, I chanced upon an article in a daily newspaper. At a talk Farhan Akhtar gave in Delhi he had this to say about playing Milkha: “I must thank all the actors who refused to play Milkha Singh before me; I was sold on it in the first 20 minutes of the story’s narration. Working on the film taught me that there is potential within each human being to achieve anything they set their mind on to if they’re willing to sacrifice luxuries and remain focussed.”

 

I entirely agree. Except that all the actors didn’t quite refuse. In all honesty, by the time I read this article, I had put this experience behind me, but suddenly, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to feel. It’s not that this experience left me deeply wounded or scarred. If anything it was a sharp learning curve. My grouse in the end is not with any of the individuals mentioned in this story; it is with what we accept as ‘the way things are’. My only question is: Is there a better way?