TELEPROMPT
Why so much publicity?
Mannika Chopra Mannika Chopra

IS it enough to market a film or a television show to death to ensure a good viewer mass response? Actor-producer-director Aamir Khan certainly thinks so. Last Sunday, in an apparent fit of generosity, he appeared on different channels — IBN 7, CNN-IBN, CNBC 18, News24 and India TV. The latter was clearly an earlier interaction on Aap ki Adalat as both star and audience were dressed in woollies.

There may have been more interviews on the entertainment channels like Zoom and ETC, but I stopped counting. The reason of this overexposure was not hard to find. Peepli Live, a film produced by the mega star, is slated to be released shortly. However, the excessive interactions fell between two stools — the celeb either overstated his own importance, or pretentiously understated it. We never really got the full picture. We got bits and pieces.

Aamir KhanWe learnt that Aamir Khan tends to cry when he is faced by a helpless situation, or sees audience reactions (IBN-7/India TV); that he does not want to be one of the topmost tax payers in the country (News24); and that he didn’t mean to mock Shah Rukh Khan in his blog (India Live). The actor’s most interesting revelation was with Anuradha Sengupta in Beautiful People (CNBC 18/CNN-IBN), where he confessed that his relations with the media had improved considerably over the last three years, which resulted in his films getting positive publicity.

Earlier, we were told, the media tended to ignore him even though his films had done well. Every time an Aamir Khan film is launched, we are subjected to this multi-channel onslaught, which now is showing signs of promotion fatigue. As for the film, it becomes like this overcooked dish, purged of all nutritional values and surprise.

At a different level, the promotions have begun of Hum, a soap which is going to be aired on Doordarshan this August. The 26-episode series is being marketed as a new avatar of Hum Log, that iconic, cult classic that entered our living rooms, courtesy DD some 26 years ago, unlike the soaps of today that yank back and forth in time, reference to context Balika Vadhu, in which Anandi, after many buckets of brine, is finally turning 18, ready to return to her sasural, and assume her, how shall I say this delicately, "wifely duties."

In its time, the 156-episodes of Hum Log, spread over 1984 and 1985, defined an era, a time when everyone related to its middle class sensibilities, when people talked to their neighbours, looked out for each other whether you lived in mohallas or mansions. As Times Now showed us in a wonderful feature, Hum Log was the personal drama of one family — Basesar Ram, wife Bhagwanti and their five children, Lallu, Badki, Majhli, Nanhe and Chutki. The drama was played out in a small tenement somewhere in Haryana, and seemed realistic.

It was a world of difficult choices, an alcoholic father, and a subservient mother. With a few subplots and without an overwritten script masterfully crafted by the late Manohar Shyam Joshi, viewers were able to discern clearly flecks of grit in the soap. Compare Hum Log to today’s airbrushed soaps in which you are cocooned against the real world; in which the problems of inflation, waterlogged roads and power failures never dare to enter; in which it takes three days to answer a question. So it is a very real possibility, despite the hype, that apart from the truncated name and the same producer (Shobha Doctor), Hum cannot possibly be anything like Hum Log.

And now to the aforementioned Balika Vadhu. Last seen, the child bride Anandi, played by chubby Avika Gor, has changed shape and size, as has Jaggia, her bin, which, for those who came in late, means bridegroom in Rajasthani. The new protagonist, Pratyusha Banerjee, chosen through an sms contest — yet another marketing ploy — is the new mature Anandi. She is all a flutter, waiting anxiously for her groom and feeding her dolls in front of young Jaggia’s phootu (long story, don’t ask).

In the meantime, her in-laws, too, are anticipating her return with bated breath, loving the idea of having the good-natured bahu serve them. Unfortunately, the top-ranking series, which started out with a competent edgy social message against child marriages, seems now to propagate it. The plot has descended from passable to bad, not good, or time pass, if you know what I mean, but painfully, brutally bad.





HOME