There is more to Shashi Kapoor than his impish grin and naughty trot. The actor-producer never accepted market diktats and followed his passions, even if it meant earning money from starring in movies with tepid scripts and dodgy production
What could he be, if not an actor? For Balbir Raj Kapoor, the youngest son of Prithvi Raj Kapoor and Ramsarni Devi, there was never any other option. As Shashi (christened so by his mother who thought he was as beauteous as the full moon), says, “I had far too many examples to follow. The worry was not so much about what career to have, but how to even imagine I could match up to the likes of Papa ji, Raj ji, Shammi ji!”
Indeed, it has been a curious and chequered journey for the actor who has straddled both worlds – that of commercial success and theatrical struggles — and emerged victorious. As Shashi Kapoor reflects on his life after winning the prestigious Dadasaheb Phalke Award, he says, “I have got more from life than I deserved or wished for.”
Starting young
“My initiation into acting began at a very young age, when we toured the country with father Prithviraj Kapoor, and the hitherto unnamed Prithvi Theatres troupe,” he remembers. Young Shashi made his screen debut as a child actor in a clutch of mythologicals, but his best remembered roles as child actor are in his older brother’s Aag (1948) and Awara (1951). Shashi continued acting on stage, and by 1956, he was both actor and assistant stage manager for Prithvi, his father’s theatre group.
The actor entered films as a lead hero with Dharmputra, which was also Yash Chopra's directorial debut. A film way ahead of its times, it flopped. Roles in social melodramas such as Char Diwari and Prem Patra followed, but box office success continued to elude him. While Shashi had lineage, he had limited film experience. Like the thousands in Bombay looking for film work, Shashi had to spend hours visiting directors and studios, distributing portfolio pictures, and hanging outside coffee shops to get noticed by busy producers. It didn’t help that the then reigning heroines had their own favourite lead actors and didn’t quite want to risk acting opposite a rank newcomer — so what if he carried the famous Kapoor tag? Producers who had cast the likes of Nargis, Suraiya, Meena Kumari and Madhubala in their films didn’t want “somewhat of a firangi hero” paired opposite them.
Shashi’s initial films sunk into oblivion — almost in a row. “I began to get infamous as ‘the jinxed Kapoor’. Even Papa ji began to get worried,” reminisces Shashi, adding, “Only Nanda, who was a huge star, stood by me by signing a whole bunch of films opposite me, a newcomer.”
It wasn’t long before Nanda was proven right. In 1965, Jab Jab Phool Khile — a love story set in Kashmir — went on to become a surprise when Shashi pulled her in. Prakash has gone on record to say that the incident was so hair-raising that he’d shut his eyes, convinced that Nanda's end had come.
Family man
Shashi met his would-be wife in a theatre. Jennifer Kendal had gone to the Royal Opera House in Bombay to catch a performance of Deewaar (the play, not the film) by Prithvi Theatre. Shashi was backstage and as he peeped out, he caught a glimpse of Jennifer. “I still remember she was sitting there in a black and white dress, fanning herself with a programme brochure. I think I was in love instantly and took her backstage to introduce myself after the show. I was also a stage hand, you see — so I could take that risk,” says the septuagenarian. The fifty years between this incident and its narration have not dulled the glint in Shashi’s eyes. Jennifer’s younger sister Felicity accompanied the two on their first date at a Chinese restaurant the next day.
Talking about his days of love, Shashi says, “It was my first romance and it came with all the trappings that any nervous man must endure. That I was not very conversant in English meant I was in a constant state of being tonguetied and shy. Geeta Bhabhi (Shammi Kapoor’s wife) was my guiding angel — lending me her car and even money to take Jennifer out.” The task of convincing his side of the family was done by Raj Kapoor and his wife Krishna, and Shammi Kapoor and his wife, “Papa ji and my mother were not taken in with the idea of a British bahu. Neither was my future father-in-law, the formidable Geoffrey Kendall, probably because he would lose the leading lady of their troupe, Shakespeareana. I joined Shakespeareana to convince him,” admits Shashi.
Kunal, Karan and Sanjana were born to the couple and Shashi made it a point to be “As participative a father that my own wasn’t, to the extent that I was very comfortable washing their bums and changing their nappies.” Jennifer and family grounded Shashi enough for him to want to spend his Sundays at home, as he puts it, “Having all three meals together, talking, visiting family and doing everything that a normal person should do.”
World becomes a stage
Having done theatre, his sensibilities made him veer towards serious cinema as he, along with his wife, collaborated with Merchant Ivory productions on a number of film projects such as The Householder and Shakespeare Wallah. The desire to move away from the rut and do meaningful films was so strong in Shashi that he decided to turn producer with films such as Junoon (1978), 36 Chowringhee Lane (1981), Kalyug (1981), Vijeta (1982), Utsav (1984) and even directed the fantasy-filled Ajooba (1991). By his own admission, “These were the kind of films that I wanted to do, but since they didn’t do well at the box office, I decided to call it quits,” he says with a deep sense of regret. The fate of these films may have disheartened him, and left him in debt, but Kapoor’s passion for good cinema earned him many friends in the industry.
The late 1970s — the decade that defined Shashi’s career in India — saw him taking on a vast number of projects, hopping from studio to studio and playing a range of characters. “There was my family, and our most treasured dream — Prithvi theatre. We went to London every summer, we also had a house in Goa, and so there was money to be earned. It was a vicious cycle but I enjoyed the ride,” avers Shashi.
This and the insecurity that he went through in his lean days made Shashi accept almost all films that came his way. The quality of most of these films left much to be desired, and he was extremely busy. So busy in fact, that when Raj Kapoor wanted to sign him for Satyam Shivam Sundaram, he found there were no dates! However, most of the money he earned doing those inane roles was ploughed back into the industry, as he began producing the sort of films that he wanted to make. He partnered with the likes of Shyam Benegal (Junoon), Girish Karnad (Utsav), Govid Nihalani (Vijeta), and Aparna Sen (36 Chowringhee Lane).
The highest honour of Indian Cinema — Dadasaheb Phalke Award – was awarded to Shashi last year, perhaps because despite being a commercial actor, he refused to get trapped in the rut. Even as a film producer, he ignored market diktats and made the films he believed in.