Bollywood has been dominated by the Khan triumvirate – Aamir, Salman and Shah Rukh – over the past two-and-a-half decades. No other actor from the post-Amitabh Bachchan era has held sway over the box office the way these 1965-born contemporaries have done.
Ever since they made their debut (Salman with Biwi Ho to Aisi in 1988, Aamir with Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak the same year and Shah Rukh, four years later with Deewana), they have been churning out blockbusters one after another at regular intervals, underlining their enduring star power. But it has, at the same time, given rise to a debate as to who is the best actor-star from the trio.
Aamir Khan’s admirers have reasons to believe, primarily because of the quality of his recent films, that he is head and shoulders above the two other Khans as far as histrionics is concerned. From Lagaan (2001) to Dangal (2016), his movies have earned enough critical acclaim and commercial success, lending heft to the claim of his being the best of the lot.
But this is not accepted unequivocally either by supporters of Shah Rukh or Salman who emphasise that their favourites are equally competent actors, and that it would not be fair to look down upon their acting talent merely on the basis of the critical acclaim reserved for movies such as Dangal.
But then, the merit of an artiste can hardly be judged unless his work is evaluated against the repertoires of his contemporaries? One simple way to reach a conclusion of this debate is to put those movies in which they have acted together under a scanner for an impartial assessment.
However, in case of reigning superstars of Bollywood, the problem is that they have hardly shared screen space together, except in a few odd movies, in the past two-and-a-half decades. Such a yardstick for the appraisal of their performances, therefore, cannot be applied to make any objective report card of their talent or their careers.
For record, Salman has worked with Aamir (Andaz Apna Apna in 1994) in the early years, and also with Shah Rukh in Karan Arjun (1995), Hum Tumhare Hai Sanam (2002) and in a cameo earlier in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (1998). But Aamir and Shah Rukh, come to think of it, have never been seen in any movie so far, except in one-scene guest apperance in Pehla Nasha (1993).
It is a pity that the Khans have come together on screen on rare occasions despite their friendship, or the lack of it, over the years. The era when they could have done more films together is, of course, behind them now. Given the commercial dynamics of Bollywood today, it is unlikely that any studio or independent producer would be able to afford any two stars of their stature to team them up for a solo project.
This is, however, not a new phenomenon in the Hindi film industry. Way back in the post-Independence era, the venerated trio – Dilip Kumar, Raj Kapoor and Dev Anand – were in a similar situation. Dilip worked with Raj in Andaz (1949) and Dev Anand in Insaniyat (1955) but Raj and Dev could never be part of any film even though they remained friends for life. Raj actually wanted Dev for Sangam (1964) for the role eventually essayed by Rajendra Kumar but it did not work out because of the differences over the script.
Thankfully, the scenario changed, post-Sholay (1975), in the industry which saw an influx of multi-starrers with all the leading actors of the time, including numero uno Bachchan, showing no qualms in getting pitted against each other. The actors from that generation may have worked in multiple shifts but they all left a surfeit of high-voltage films for the critics and the audiences to savour and judge their individual histrionics.
Bachchan’s movies with contemporaries such as Dharmendra (Sholay), Shashi Kapoor (Deewar, 1975), Vinod Khanna and Rishi Hapoor (Amar Akbar Anthony, 1977) and Shatrughan Sinha (Kala Patthar, 1979 and Dostana, 1980) remain veritable mirrors to not only his talent but also that of his fellow artistes who held their own against the erstwhile superstar in those days.
In his autobiography released earlier this week, Rishi has regretted that Bachchan invariably fought shy of giving credit to his co-stars. But the Bobby (1973) star need not have harboured such a grudge since all these movies have been in the public domain for a period long enough for anybody to weigh the talent of each and every actor starring in them.
It is only after the multiplex boom at the turn of the new millennium that the popular stars such as the Khans started getting bigger and bigger by the day and became well-nigh unaffordable for any producer to rope in any two of them, if not three, for a single venture. There was once a talk about someone toying with the idea of remaking Amar Akbar Anthony with all the three top Khans. But it was hastily dropped when the production cost of such an ambitious project was computed.
As of now, since all the top stars insist on getting a sizeable chunk of the film’s profits (up to 40 per cent in some cases), it is indeed not a feasible business idea to cast them together. It can occasionally be done in case of exceptional big-budget films such as upcoming 2.0 (a sequel ofRobot, 2010) when a producer can expect decent returns despite casting Rajnikanth and Akshay Kumar together.
Under the present circumstances, a Deewar, therefore, cannot be expected to be remade with two top stars of current generation simply because of highly inflated production cost. Isn't it a pity?
But then, whose loss is it anyway? Is it merely a loss of the audience or that of the astronomically-paid stars in the long run? Last but not the least, will any script ever excite them enough to work together in future regardless of financial implications? Well, that sounds like a question worth more than the worldwide box office collections of Dangal at the moment.
