Ageing with dignity

MARQUEE

Paul Newman's announcement last month that he had, at the age of 82, decided to retire from screen acting, was an opportunity to reflect on the legacy of this iconic American actor.

Too often, when a beloved movie star dies or retires, you see cliches like "the end of an era" in newspaper reports (it makes you wonder if there are as many eras as there are stars), but Newman gives the cliche weight.

He started his career in the early 1950s as a prettier, less edgy version of Marlon Brando, but through the 1960s and 1970s (decades that saw great change in Hollywood through the decline of the studio system) he continued to mature as an actor, playing memorable roles in a series of superb films. Most remarkably, he did this without compromising on his status as a matinee idol.

One of the most notable things about Newman was how well he aged, especially between his late 40s and his 60s: he did it with nonchalant grace, something we aren't accustomed to seeing in celebrities who initially become famous because of their looks.

His hair grew thinner and greyer, wrinkles appeared on a face that still had its hunk quotient intact, but all of this simply added gravitas to irresistibility; even the celebrated blue eyes acquired hidden depths.

Importantly, in the latter stages of his career, he chose his roles with care, never taking on a part that would have been inappropriate to his age and physical appearance.

Watch him as the ice-hockey coach in Slap Shot, the weary lawyer in The Verdict, the estranged father in Nobody's Fool; these are lessons in growing old with dignity.

Generally speaking, the late 40s marks the beginning of a crucial transitionary phase for actors, a time when they have to make important decisions about possible new directions in which to take their screen persona "" and a quick glance at movie history shows that most of them don't acquit themselves very well during this time. One need look no further than our own icons, starting with the biggest of them all.

Amitabh Bachchan gets rave reviews today for ageing with panache and for the fitness levels he's shown in his 60s, and this is fair enough in the context of the last 6-7 years. But for at least a decade leading up to the bearded look of Kaun Banega Crorepati (version 1), AB went through an embarrassing phase where he continued playing variants on an angry young man persona that should properly have been dusted under the carpet in 1978. (The best way to state the case would be to discuss films like Lal Baadshah, Aaj ka Arjun and Ajooba, but my wisdom tooth hurts when I think about them.)

I was watching an old (pun unintended) favourite, Dharmendra, in Metro and Apne recently. In the 1960s and early 1970s, the man who would later be known as Garam Dharam was one of Hindi cinema's most sensitive hunks (and, briefly, a convincing action star in quality films like Sholay).

But he famously botched it in middle age. Pushing 50, and with a son (Sunny Deol) making his own way into filmdom, he began playing a series of blood-eyed, revenge-seeking caricatures in films with such titles as Insaaf Kaun Karega.

Then he dropped out of the mainstream for a decade, and the absence seems to have done him good. As a septuagenarian, he's now finally playing his age, something necessitated by physical changes (the skin has stretched out over the iron jaw, making him look old and vulnerable, the movements aren't as assured as they once were) and the effect is touching, even though he'll never have the latter-day career that Amitabh does. But if only he, and many of our other stars, had learnt to play their age a little earlier.

We eagerly wait to see what Shah Rukh, Aamir etc are up to 10 years from now.

(jaiarjun@gmail.com)