Guns & Thighs

1. Success is Chance, Failure is Intent.

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is that all my successes were by default and all my failures were by intent.

Intent vs. Outcome. The author argues that his successes were often accidental outcomes of decisions made with different intentions, while his failures were the direct result of decisions he was convinced were right at the time. This challenges the conventional view that success is solely due to talent or planning. He believed more in films that flopped (like Raat, Daud) than those that became hits (Shiva, Rangeela), making his failures feel more personal and intentional.

Unpredictable factors. Many factors outside the filmmaker's control influence a film's reception. A film's success can depend on chance occurrences, market timing, or audience mood, rather than just the quality of the material or the filmmaker's skill. For example, his video library succeeded not because of the friends he banked on, but from unexpected customers.

Decision-making is key. Despite unpredictable outcomes, the author emphasizes the importance of continuously making decisions and acting on them. He prefers making films, good or bad, rather than endlessly planning a masterpiece that never materializes. His biggest flops (Daud, Aag, Department) were films he spent the most time and money on, reinforcing his belief that effort doesn't guarantee success.

2. Awards Are Bullshit.

So in short, the success of a film is due to the contribution of the actors and technicians in excess of my expectations, which is why it belongs to them, while failure belongs to me alone, as it means that I failed in channelizing their equally great contributions to their intended destination.

Team effort vs. individual awards. Filmmaking is a collaborative process, and the director is the only one who truly understands how individual contributions fit into the overall vision. Awards given to specific actors or technicians are flawed because their work is judged in isolation, without considering how the director's choices in editing, screenplay, or context might have made or broken their performance. The director's skill is paramount in making the team shine.

Subjectivity and ignorance. Awards are often based on subjective opinions and a lack of understanding of the technical complexities involved. The author cites the example of Resul Pookutty winning an Oscar for sound design; he questions if people truly understand sound design or if the award simply brought attention to it after the fact. Judging actors across different roles is also impossible, as one cannot know how they would perform in another's character.

Director's responsibility. The author takes sole responsibility for his failures, viewing them as his inability to properly channel the talents of his team. Conversely, he attributes success to the team exceeding his expectations. He finds the concept of an external body judging individual contributions ridiculous, given the intricate interweaving of talents required to create a film's final effect.

3. Dustbin Fortunes: Life's Unpredictable Cycles.

Anyway, the whole point is that I am just so fascinated with how the cycle of fortune keeps on throwing people in and out of dustbins.

Chance and circumstance. The author is fascinated by how people's fortunes rise and fall based on unpredictable events and chance encounters. His own career path, and the careers of people he worked with, were shaped by seemingly random occurrences. He gives examples of how initial intentions failed, but unexpected opportunities arose.

Examples of unpredictable turns:

• Signing Keeravani (M.M. Kreem) for his second film after dumping him for Ilayaraja on the first.
• Discovering Mani Sharma through Keeravani, whose big break came after a film was shelved.
• Meeting lyricist Mehboob through Ismail Darbar, only to dump Ismail for A.R. Rahman for Rangeela.
• Mehboob's success leading to Ismail Darbar's break with Sanjay Leela Bhansali.

Industry's fickle nature. The film industry is particularly prone to these cycles, with people being hailed as geniuses after a hit and forgotten after a flop. The author observes how close friends like Ismail Darbar and Mehboob, whose careers were intertwined by chance, eventually fell out and declined professionally. He finds it amusing how people's relevance changes with their success or failure.

4. The Industry's "Last Film" Mentality.

What remains is a faintly uncomfortable memory of my ‘respectful’ interaction with him.

Fickle industry memory. The film industry operates on a "you're only as good as your last film" principle, quickly forgetting past achievements. The author recounts the sad experience of legendary director Basu Chatterjee, who struggled to get meetings with actors like Manoj Bajpayee and Aftab Shivdasani years after his peak. His past success held no currency in the present.

Lack of respect for history. Younger generations in the industry may not even know the contributions of past masters. Aftab Shivdasani's ignorance of Basu Chatterjee highlights how quickly reputations fade if one is not currently active or successful. This focus on immediate relevance over historical contribution is a stark reality of the business.

The cycle continues. The author implies that this fate awaits everyone, including himself, once their current streak of relevance ends. The anecdote serves as a cautionary tale about the transient nature of fame and respect in the industry, where current success dictates one's worth and access.

5. The Power of an Idea.

The secret of that is nothing but the power of the ideas I get at various points of time, my belief in them and my ability to sell them to the people who matter for turning them into films.

Ideas as catalysts. The author believes that ideas, regardless of their eventual outcome, are the primary drivers of his career and life trajectory. An idea can initiate a complex process involving many people and significant resources, simply by its potential energy. He cites Satya (gangsters' in-between lives) and Aag (Sholay in modern times) as examples of ideas that profoundly changed his path, albeit in different directions.

Ideas fuel production. His ability to continuously generate and sell ideas is what allows him to keep making films, even after failures. He often works on multiple ideas simultaneously, which may take years to develop but represent potential projects ranging widely in scale and genre. This constant brewing of ideas keeps him active and relevant.

Ideas can be unconventional. The author's ideas are often unconventional, like making a feature film titled Lux based on extreme product placement. He finds excitement in the potential of these ideas to disrupt norms and create new possibilities, even if they don't always come to fruition. The power lies in the initial spark and the belief in its potential.

6. My Unconventional Filmmaking Vision.

That pretty much is the answer to why I frame my films in a certain way. It’s because that’s the way I want to see whatever it is that I’m framing.

Personal perspective shapes art. The author's filmmaking style, particularly his framing and camera work, is a direct expression of his unique worldview and how he wants to perceive and present reality. He believes art arises from the desire to reshape the world according to one's specific purpose and value systems. His style is not random but informed by his personal understanding and cinematic imagination.

Form over substance. While acknowledging the need for content, the author emphasizes that how a story is told is as, if not more, important than the story itself in cinematic art. The director's unique style in amalgamating elements like acting, cinematography, and music creates the emotional impact and connection with the viewer. He sees other team members as primary artists whose work he interprets through his vision.

Provoking strong reactions. Having a specific, individualistic point of view inevitably leads to strong, often polarized, reactions from the audience and critics. His unconventional choices in framing, background score, or character placement are deliberate attempts to enhance emotion or convey meaning in a way that feels right to him, even if others find it bizarre or wrong. He directs visions towards his own, unafraid of being perceived as blind by those who don't share it.

7. Stars vs. Actors: Personality vs. Character.

Actors die along with their characters and stars live on.

Star power is personality. The author distinguishes between stars and actors based on their connection with the audience. A star, like Shah Rukh Khan, is a personality whose charisma transcends specific roles; people connect with them, regardless of the character they play. Their appeal lies in their consistent persona across various platforms.

Actors embody characters. An actor, on the other hand, is defined by the characters they portray. People remember the character's name (e.g., Manoj Bajpayee as Bhiku Bhai) rather than the actor's name. Their impact is tied to the specific role, and their relevance can fade when the character is gone.

Stars can be impediments. While stars draw crowds, their established image and audience expectations can sometimes hinder the believability of a film, especially one aiming for realism. The author suggests that trying to make a star do something outside their established persona can lead to failure, as seen in films like Paheli or Swades for Shah Rukh Khan. The star's baggage can become excess weight for the film's narrative.

8. Lessons from the Lock-up and Life's Tragicomedies.

As I thought about it, I slowly started realizing that there is no fundamental difference between two kids at school fighting over a pencil, and India and Pakistan fighting over Kashmir.

Perspective shifts reality. The author learned profound lessons about perspective and the relative importance of events from his experiences in police lock-ups. A college gang fight, which felt like a world war to him, was trivial to a bored sub-inspector. This realization highlighted how the scale and perceived importance of conflicts change drastically depending on one's context and priorities.

Humanity transcends roles. His second lock-up experience, sharing a cell with a pickpocket and observing the interactions between cops and inmates, revealed the underlying humanity beneath societal roles and responsibilities. He saw how personal needs and biases (like the inspector's hatred of the rich) could override professional duty, influencing outcomes. This understanding of human psychology informed his films about crime and law enforcement.

Life's inherent absurdity. The train accident, resulting in both death and bizarre, almost comical, human reactions, solidified his view that "Life is really a comedy dressed up as a tragedy." He observed people debating medical advice over a dying man, a railway officer seeking media attention amidst chaos, and his own detached, almost directorial, response to the unfolding events. These experiences, though traumatic, provided valuable insights into human behavior under stress.

9. Women: Fantasy, Reality, and Cinematic Obsession.

I would say that I have never felt more of a cinematic high than when I watched her through my camera on the sets of Rangeela.

Fantasy vs. Reality. The author's fascination with women often exists on a fantasy level, particularly concerning actresses like Sridevi and Urmila Matondkar. He was captivated by their on-screen beauty and sex appeal, sometimes struggling to reconcile this idealized image with their ordinary human reality. His films, like Kshana Kshanam and Rangeela, were often driven by a desire to capture and eternalize this cinematic beauty.

Cinematic objectification. He openly admits to being obsessed with women's physical attributes, viewing them as "fantasy images" and "highly precious jewels" to be framed and worshipped. He finds it objectionable to associate beautiful women with "ugly diseases," believing their beauty is a rare solace in a harsh world. This perspective informs his portrayal of women, often focusing on their visual appeal.

Impact on casting. His fascination has influenced his casting choices, sometimes leading to detrimental outcomes for the actresses involved. He feels particularly guilty about Nisha Kothari's role in Aag, acknowledging that he damaged her career by miscasting her. His interactions, though sometimes leading to media speculation, are rooted in this blend of personal fascination and cinematic intent.

10. The Making of Aag: A Masterclass in Failure.

So, to all of them, Aag looked like a ridiculous collage of scenes going nowhere and it became one of the biggest disasters of Indian cinema.

Idea gone wrong. The film Aag, a contemporary adaptation of Sholay, originated from a seemingly interesting idea but became a monumental failure. The author got carried away with fragmented interpretations of iconic scenes and characters, losing sight of the original film's emotional core and overall narrative coherence. He allowed external influences and technical fixations to override his initial vision.

Compounding errors. A series of poor decisions and external constraints contributed to the disaster. These included:

• Literal interpretation of Sholay elements without emotional context.
• Being swayed by others' opinions on character looks (Gabbar's stylized design).
• Constant script changes due to legal issues over copyright.
• Misjudging the audience's familiarity with the original Sholay.

Lessons learned. Despite the widespread criticism and financial loss, the author views Aag as a valuable learning experience that made him a better director. He takes full responsibility for the blunder, acknowledging that he let down his cast, crew, and investors who trusted his vision. The failure highlighted the dangers of losing one's core intent and being surrounded by people who don't offer honest feedback.

11. The Biggest Flop of My Life (Personal Loss).

I rate this as the biggest flop of my life.

Emotional detachment in crisis. The author recounts the traumatic experience of his father's sudden death, where he initially reacted with a detached, almost directorial, focus on managing the situation and cushioning his mother from the shock. He meticulously planned how to break the news and handle the aftermath, suppressing his own grief in the process.

Decision with unintended consequences. His decision to honor his father's will by donating his eyes, while logically sound, led to unforeseen emotional pain for his mother upon seeing the altered body. This failure to anticipate the human cost of his logical decision became his "biggest flop," causing him immense guilt.

Delayed grief. His own grief remained suppressed for years, only surfacing unexpectedly during a script session nine years later. This highlights how he often processes life through a cinematic lens, sometimes delaying or transforming emotional responses. The experience underscored the complexity of human emotion and the limitations of logic in dealing with personal tragedy.

12. Critics and the Love-Hate Relationship.

I was thrilled to bits at the venom spewed by the critic.

Finding value in hate. The author has a peculiar relationship with critics, sometimes finding validation and even pleasure in their intense negative reactions. He sees their venom as proof that his work, even when hated, has provoked a strong emotional response and has been engaged with seriously, perhaps more seriously than he intended.

Critics' limitations. He believes critics often judge films based on conventional expectations or personal biases, lacking a true understanding of the filmmaker's specific intent or the complex collaborative process. He finds their opinions subjective and often contradictory, reflecting their own worldviews rather than an objective assessment of the film's artistic merit.

Mutual projection. The author sees the interaction between filmmaker and critic as a form of mutual projection, where each interprets the other through their own lens. He acknowledges that his own provocative behavior and statements contribute to this dynamic, but ultimately, he remains unfazed by criticism, prioritizing his own vision and the reactions of those who connect with it.

Last updated: May 24, 2025