Ranbir Kapoor is coming to #THiNK2012. Here is Gaurav Jain’s article on the ‘Rockstar’
In the first few minutes of Rockstar, Ranbir Kapoor dashes desperately through the cobbled streets of Rome, escaping a thrashing by locals, and after a quick bus ride arrives to give his impending concert. He kicks brutally at the barricades and roars silently onto the stage ahead of his minders, where, after an apt moment of repose, he unclenches his fingers and swirls his dark face to the mike, still pulsing with the effort of moving so much so quickly.
We see RK as the angry young man for that one electric moment of white noise, a glowering beaut come to burn us, before director Imtiaz Ali cuts to song. As it turns out, the hook is neat and entirely unnecessary — we continue to watch gratefully as now the younger Ranbir, college music enthusiast, smiles and strums and sings under a tree. We’re still quite happy to watch the fresh-faced sections of RK’s oeuvre, thanks very much.
Rockstar is powered by the comfortingly retro idea that romantic angst produces music, and provides its hero Janardhan/Jordan no more outlet, no real musical or performance creativity on stage, than just roaring at his audience, and then roaring some more, till he looks wan. Let the next generation believe that rock-n-roll mostly means making moues into mikes (we did, too).
Compare this retro conception of the artiste to the 29-year-old actor himself — this rather stripped down guy who wants, more than anything, to cut away the angst and focus on the work. On set at Mumbai’s Chandivalli Studio (estd. 1944) where he’s shooting his next feature Barfee, Ranbir is the consummate professional — soft spoken, attentive, relaxed. He masters a difficult shot in one take, and remains unflappable after the 20th one needed for his co-stars. He’s a vibrating presence, quickfingered, loose-limbed, with an open face that has a series of expressions flitting across it. Then the shot’s over and he goes back to his diminutive self again, slumped over his BlackBerry or playing a game on his iPad.
You get two shocks when you meet RK. He’s alarmingly thin — no, flat — almost like a cartoon character flattened by a giant iron (Ranbir, Abhay, Imran: we’re getting an entire generation of stars without any butts). And he has startlingly red lips, like his uncle Shammi Kapoor. He speaks with fluent politenesses, Mr This and Mr That, and is studiously courteous to everyone. He walks with an affable bounce.
After the tentative beginnings of Saawariya (2007) and the somewhat-comic Bachna Ae Haseeno (2008), Ranbir cleared a definite corner for himself in 2009 with three wildly different films — the urbane Wake Up Sid, the manically bizarre Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahani and the earnest Rocket Singh. All operate on his piquant comic timing and occasional hamming. In film after film, he has played off his loosey goosey charm and rubber band energy. His flat moroseness in Raajneeti might have given fans a twinge, but in Rockstar, his generation’s best actor finally shows he can do serious, too.
In all his eight films, RK has played the role of the young savant. “I don’t see myself as a superhero personality,” he says. “I can’t be heroic, it doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m a big fan of Roberto Benigni, even his early work. I love the Raj Kapoor movies like Shri 420. I like the bum quality in a person, that’s more endearing. If I can’t do something well, such as picking up a dumbbell, I add a bit of comic element to it, a bit of clumsiness. I salvage it.” He’s interested in people who lose their bug-eyed look and take control of their lives.
Read rest of the article on Tehelka website
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