VISHAL Bharadwaj is considering the options, as sunlight streams like mellow lager into his tiny, soundproof office in North Mumbai one early afternoon.
Yana Gupta or Priyanka Chopra? Where will the item number be shot, a glitzy nightclub or at a rural jamboree? The script—an original tale of love against all odds—is on its knees, begging for it.
The music composer-director breaks into a mild chortle from behind his I-Mac, dismissing the proposition you’ve just put forward. Of one of our most promising directors succumbing to the pull of market forces, sooner or later.
“I might have to stop making films if I do that. What I crave for most is the luxury to make movies on any subject I want. I’ll produce my own film and find a market for it if no one else wants it,” says Bharadwaj, who hastens to peel off the label one sticks on him—of a highbrow, refined film-maker.
“Essentially, I want to make entertainers. A cop drama naturally lends itself to entertainment, but making a movie on the life of a 9-5 bank employee is what challenges me,” says this son of former lyricist Ram Bharadwaj, who, in spite of composing A-level music for Gulzar’s Maachis and Ramgopal Varma’s Satya, is now, after Makdee and Maqbool, being looked upon as an auteur extraordinary, the intelligent cine-goer’s wallpaper boy. Someone capable enough of directing the very best of method actors—from Shabana Azmi to Naseeruddin Shah.
He is working with people who make films for Bollywood, but work outside of its ring master influences—that’s Shekhar Kapur, Bobby Bedi and himself. The films he’s currently scripting range from Timbuktu, which he calls “a mature love story”, produced by himself, and Mantra, a fantasy starring Preity Zinta, backed by Kapur. Another film with independent film-maker Bedi (the latter’s firm Kaleidoscope Entertainment produced Maqbool) is also in the offing.
“I told you about this story about a 9-5 man, Timbuktu will be like that,” says the slightly stocky 38-year-old, who still looks Godrej-Lime fresh after what has probably been an early day, with cricket practice and what not.
“I go to Chandrakant Pandit’s coaching academy almost daily, improving my skills,” says this former UP state player, the topic of cricket leading to an aside from his struggling days.
“Much before Lagaan, I had a, sort of, similar story. Of two buildings in a compound organising a cricket match to solve, once and for all, urban problems such as who gets the water first and so on. I submitted the script to a television company, but nothing came of it,” he says, asking you to even check up with the concerned company.
And it’s not just all media hype. Men before him who’ve walked the tightrope between sensible cinema and a decent livelihood feel that he looks to be The One.
“He’s among the best directors who’ve come up in the recent past. Maqbool is an accomplished work, he was in total control, had clear vision and tremendous feel for the subject. Moreover, he’s adventurous and constantly challenges himself, which is the hallmark of a great director,” says Govind Nihalani.
Bedi, who put his money on Bharadwaj when he was a Vishal-who?, doesn’t want to talk much about his new film. “The very fact that I’ve worked with him before and am again looking forward to do it is proof of his capabilities. I wouldn’t be involved with him if he were just another also-ran,” says Bedi.
And Pankaj Kapur, who put in an eminently fine performance in Maqbool, feels that while there may be other directors as good as Bharadwaj, it’s his thinking nature that will set him apart. “He’s got great leadership qualities, can work without any ego hassles and his ability to think differently is something very few others have.”
Bharadwaj is, however, not misled either by expectations or his own success. “I take each day as it comes, there’s still a lot of time for me.”
In the times to come, Bharadwaj says he has interesting things lined up, projects that don’t seek to live up to popular or highbrow expectations, but stuff that will be done his way.
You want to ask him that obvious question about another Shakespearean adaptation, in spite of a no-Maqbool questions rider for the meeting. But that’s inevitable when the lowest rung of his commodious shelf is lined with almost all of balding William’s works.
“My wife buys me these and I enjoy reading them, but I’m more into Hindi literature which I can consume fast. Surely, I’m planning to have another go at Shakespeare. But the next one won’t be as grim as Macbeth, probably something like a Midsummer Night’s Dream,” he says.
He also hasn’t forgotten his debut genre. The man who thinks 70 per cent of children’s movies are pretty boring and absolutely preachy, has bought the rights of Ruskin Bond’s The Blue Umbrella, which has been shortlisted for script analysis by the British Film Council. Bharadwaj intends to co-produce it if things work out.
Plus there’s also music, his, as he puts it, “soul”, never mind the fact that he always wanted to be a director. “I’m still composing music for a couple of films, and probably will do it for some of my own. But most directors wouldn’t like another one to compose for them,” he says, recalling an extremely arduous transition period from a composer to director. First the demand to “compose just for situations” from film-makers to the wall of scepticism that earlier stonewalled his directorial ambitions.
But it was all par for the course, says Bharadwaj. From now on, he says, he’ll make, more often than not, the films he wants where the music will be “an element that builds the narration”. Tough luck, Gupta and Chopra.