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In recent years there have been more opportunities in Hindi films for the Little Big Man, or the actor who doesn't fit the image of the charismatic, fair-complexioned hero; someone who would once have been strictly a supporting player, but now gets leading roles in worthy movies because of his talent and presence (and also because a wider range of subjects and milieus are being explored). An abiding memory from last year was the unlikely but very effective romantic pairing of the short-statured Nawazuddin Siddiqui with the relatively statuesque Huma Qureshi - who seemed to tower over him - in Gangs of Wasseypur. In another, very different type of film, there was Ayushmann Khurana - cute, personable, but definitely not larger-than-life hero material - as a Punjabi munda next door, slowly learning about responsibility (and about Rabindrasangeet, courtesy a romance with a Bengali girl) in Vicky Donor.
Other such actors have had their day in the sun too: take Ranvir Shorey, excellent in a double role in Mithya, a low-profile film that developed a cult following. The success of these performers - most notably Siddiqui, who has been widely feted for a number of films - has spawned a narrative that may have you thinking that the Hindi-film industry has magically become a meritocratic paradise. But the truth, as always, is a little more complicated. Sheer luck - that nemesis of the pleasing Big Narrative - plays a part too, which is presumably one reason why Deepak Dobriyal continues to have such a low profile.
I have been a Dobriyal fan ever since I saw his dialogue-less performance as a Mumbai commuter in the Kundan Shah short film Hero (part of the anthology Mumbai Cutting) and I often wonder: what keeps this skilled actor - so impressive in small parts in films like Omkara, Delhi-6 and Tanu Weds Manu - from doing more fleshed-out roles in good movies? Dobriyal has been perfectly good even in films that don't necessarily lend themselves to nuanced performances: in a supporting part in Dabangg 2, for example, he fit into the film's comic-book universe, while also inhabiting his role. But then, it is a truism that good supporting players can come away with their dignity intact even in mediocre films (sometimes they are the only people who do). It is when you're playing the lead role that your choice of projects becomes exponentially more important.
And so, it was depressing to see him in the recent Chor Chor Super Chor, a film that began on a promising note but then degenerated so completely, that I thought I had tripped into the wrong hall after the interval. Dobriyal plays Satbir, a small-time crook making an honest effort to go straight. It is a solid, engaging performance, but it is painful to see his sincerity at the service of an increasingly unworthy script; to see him trying to explore the possibilities of his character when the film itself has little interest in character development, tonal evenness or credibility.
Not that Chor Chor Super Chor begins that way. There are interesting things in the first 40-45 minutes, including such characters as the avuncular Shukla-ji who runs a small photo studio as a front for a group of young offenders. There are sweet little touches too, such as a sight gag involving a giant samosa costume used as promotion for a mall kiosk. But what begins as a quietly humorous story with a sense of place and sub-culture, and a basic affection for its people, retains none of these qualities. The second half, which involves an attempt by Satbir and his friends to play a counter-con on a TV news channel, is spectacularly poor. The lazy caricaturing, the leaps in logic and plausibility, were more pronounced than any I have seen on screen recently.
Through all this, Dobriyal's integrity doesn't waver. His performance convinces us that Satbir is a worldly-wise creature of his milieu but also that his efforts to pull himself into a more respectable world are sincere. If it were possible to watch a film in such a way that you could fix your attention on one figure on the screen and block out the rest, Chor Chor Super Chor may have been worth watching. I hope it represents only a minor blip in decision-making for its lead actor.
Jai Arjun Singh is a Delhi-based writer
