By S. Mitra Kalita
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, May 2, 2005
ATLANTIC CITY -- The thousands of fans gathered here for the annual Bollywood Awards knew a glimpse was all they might get of star Rani Mukherjee.
But those who conned their way backstage Saturday night had higher hopes. Sure, her makeup artist sometimes acts as a bodyguard, and the actress commands upward of six figures -- high by Indian standards -- per film, stage appearance or Pepsi commercial. Still, for her expatriate brethren, perhaps she'd offer a smile, an autograph, a touch of her lime-green sari?
Even a Broadway star came armed with a pickup line, hoping to meet her.
"Our horoscopes match," said Manu Narayan, the leading man in the short-lived "Bombay Dreams." "She just doesn't know it yet."
But as Narayan obliged his own fans' requests for photos and autographs, Mukherjee stayed sequestered in her dressing room, as many as a half-dozen handlers guarding the door. She emerged to receive an award for best supporting actress, and then again to present David Hasselhoff -- yes, the one who bared his soul and more on "Baywatch" in a way that would draw the ire of Bollywood censors -- with the International Star of the Year award. But everyone here knew this David was no match for Mukherjee, the Goliath of the evening.
Mukherjee came out again to collect her statue for best actress and, last, for a 12-minute dance finale. But each time, she darted back to her room flanked by one man juggling her trophy or her bottled water and two others flailing their arms to keep the hordes from rubbing elbows, shoulders or anything else with the woman who has starred in roughly three dozen movies in her 27 years.
Such were the theatrics at the seventh Bollywood Awards, staged aptly enough at the Trump Taj Mahal Casino Resort. Just steps away from the whirring of roulette wheels and bleeping of slot machines under mirrored ceilings and ornate domes, a sellout audience of 5,500 clapped and cheered for their own garish, escapist dramas. Many confessed they cared little about the actual awards but had paid between $35 and $200 for tickets to see their favorite actors dance and lip-sync to Bollywood soundtracks.
India churns out about 900 films per year, and about a quarter of those movies -- mostly Hindi musicals -- are lumped into the category known as Bollywood. (The industry's epicenter, once known as Bombay, is now called Mumbai.) Bollywood films tend to be long musicals (three hours or more) and the story lines are predictable and simple: Boy meets girl, loses girl and fights obstacles from caste to competition to win her back. Along the way, in good times and bad, boy and girl -- and everyone else -- frequently burst into song.
Bollywood flicks are no longer relegated to ethnic grocery stores, fuzzy pirated videos teetering on racks between cumin powder and frozen samosas. They are increasingly available at Blockbuster and through Netflix, the online movie rental service. Comcast has started Bollywood on Demand as one of its digital cable offerings in the Washington region. And though it flopped, "Bride and Prejudice," an Indian adaptation of the Jane Austen novel, attempted to marry Hollywood with Bollywood as song-and-dance numbers interrupt an almost-entirely English script.
Yet for the faithful who gathered here, Bollywood is no passing fancy that will fade as quickly as Madonna's henna tattoos. It represents an intense, nostalgic connection to home, no matter how many times removed.
That's what made Ameela Rasul, 6 1/2 months pregnant, cram into a car with five other relatives from Queens for the four-hour drive. She emigrated from Guyana 12 years ago and can't speak Hindi, so she scrutinizes both the subtitles and landscapes of Bollywood to better understand her roots.
"Our forefathers were Indian," said the stay-at-home mother as she pushed to the front of a line for tickets. "So, sure, we are Indian."
Her favorite movie, she said, was the 1998 blockbuster "Kuch Kuch Hota Hai" ("Something Is Happening"), in which Mukherjee played the daughter of a principal caught in an on-campus love triangle.
On Saturday night, Mukherjee was honored for her more recent roles: She was named best actress for "Hum Tum" ("Me and You") and best supporting actress for "Veer-Zaara" (named after the main characters), which also took top honors as best film.
In "Hum Tum," Mukherjee falls in love with a Mumbai-based cartoonist, a relationship that takes them across Europe, the United States and India. That the movie revolves around an international romance is not coincidental. Increasingly, Bollywood plots include India's expatriates.
"The overseas audiences are really important. Box office revenue means perhaps even more because of currency valuation," said Monika Mehta, who teaches a class on Bollywood movies at the University of Texas at Austin. "The diasporadic community act as middle people, as translators, so the industry can make inroads beyond the diasporadic audience."
Depending on who is doing the estimating, Bollywood's revenues are said to range from $1.5 billion to $4 billion -- the discrepancy results from an industry plagued by piracy and black-market distribution. But nearly everyone agrees that emigrants are responsible for nearly half the total sales of movies and music. That part of the market is often referred to as NRIs, for Non-Resident Indians, and occasionally, derisively, Not Really Indian.
Shows like the Bollywood Awards help fuel the fan base, while serving as lucrative endeavors for promoters and performers alike. Bollywood Awards organizer Kamal Dandona estimated the show generates about $1 million in revenues, and confirmed big stars are "easily paid thousands per minute."
For Bollywood actors, the awards show functions similarly to the People's Choice Awards (an honor bestowed on Hasselhoff in 1983). In its nascent years, fans cast ballots in ethnic grocery stores across the country. Now they vote online. Hollywood actors receive a nod from organizers if their work happens to resonate with Bollywood fans. Last year, Sharon Stone was honored as "Woman of Conscience" for her charity work in Tibet. This year, Hasselhoff was deemed worthy because TV's "Knight Rider" and "Baywatch" are so popular in India, Dandona said. "American Idol" judge Paula Abdul was to receive an award for choreography and music, but canceled her appearance amid allegations that she romanced an "Idol" contestant and uses drugs. She has denied the claims.
Some audience members said they didn't bother voting because they think the contest is rigged. So asserted Mikey Krishum, who buys and sells properties in New York City, as he swayed to a dance number featuring men and women clad in shiny black dominatrix gear.
"I think they give awards to whoever is here," said Krishum, himself wearing a leather vest and thick chains around his neck. "That's okay. I think it's all fun."
Organizers denied his claim, but said they have heard it before.
"So many people who won were not here. Shah Rukh Khan was not here," Dandona said, referring to the winner in the best actor category for "Veer-Zaara."
That film, about a decades-long love affair between a Pakistani woman and an Indian man, featured a theme that has become increasingly common in Bollywood.
"In the last eight months to a year, every show, they talk about Pakistan, saying 'We love you,' " said Ashni Parekh, a Mumbai-based entertainment lawyer. "I think through entertainment, they are trying to bring the unity. The Pakistanis are so crazy for these Indian stars, so these stars have become a medium."
The stage of the Bollywood Awards reflected as much, with Pakistani singer Amir Jamal taking honors for best male soundtrack singer. Jamal, who also works as an accountant at Ernst & Young, likened recent overtures between the two nations, which were bloodily partitioned in 1947, as "fresh air from both sides."
Besides Mukherjee, the other big name to grace the stage was Lara Dutta, who won Miss Universe in 2000. But neither woman would talk to the press Saturday night. Repeated requests of Mukherjee's handlers yielded five minutes with her makeup artist, Bharat Godambe, the son of a millworker, who said he has traveled the world with Mukherjee and does much more than powder her face and line her lips. "I have to be with her," he said. "I have to protect her. Some people want to meet her very closely."
Like Narayan, the "Bombay Dreams" star, for example. A Leo, he got his chance after the show had ended and the lights came back on, illuminating a backstage strewn with stray silks, cans of Red Bull and once top-secret award lists.
Asked how his astrology line panned out, Narayan said, "She laughed. So that's a maybe?"
His Bombay dreams live on.