'There's a meta moment towards the end of the
trailer [
di Pathaan] that made me sit up. (...) It features
Khan (...) delivering a patriotic punchline. (...) It's not like Khan hasn't played a soldier (...) or a flag-waving patriot (...) before. But those were simpler times - the notion of a Hindi film star was shaped more by artistic merit than religious identity. Nationalism was an honest byproduct of a post-liberalization democracy; nobody cared for surnames as long as the entertainment came. (...)
It's different today. This is now a country conscious of the fact that three of its biggest superstars since 1990 are Muslim. In light of the bigoted Boycott hashtags over the last few years, I found myself pondering about this Jai Hind moment in two ways. One: SRK is currently in the real-world version of Chak De! India, where he is expected to 'prove' his allegiance to this country through the work he does. Two: Khan is returning in a movie called 'Pathaan' in a Republic Day week, as a Muslim super-soldier whose very presence signifies that patriotism and heroism are not solely Hindu birthrights. Perspective lies in the eyes of the beholder. So is it a punchline of compromise or courage.
I'm leaning towards the latter. It's sad that the discourse has reached this point, but it would be naive to pretend that SRK is just another celebrity. He is now a feeling - pure, complicated, political, personal, cultural - that transcends cinema itself. He is both a story and a statement, a survivor and a reminder. He is an outsider scrutinized for behaving like an insider, and an insider gifted with the hunger of an outsider. This burden of context might colour our experience of Pathaan. Now more than ever, it's impossible to divorce the man from the meaning. And maybe that's not such a bad thing. For better or worse, the fate of Pathaan will say more about this country than the quality of the film itself. (...)
The nerveless nineties (1991-2000) (...)
It was SRK who embedded himself into the conscience of a country waking up to post-globalization Bollywood. (...) SRK became a genre-fluid brand in an age of aspiration. What distinguished him the most was that he wasn't averse to risk. (...) The beauty of this phase is that Khan was, for a large part, unaffected by the frills of stardom. He was still feeling his way around, throwing characters onto the wall to see what sticks. (...) Not everything worked, and it didn't matter. (...)
The wonder years (2001-2010) (...)
Initially, this golden age seemed to liberate SRK from the pressure of 'ruling' the roost. So he wore multiple hats (some of which had rabbits in them) - producer, talk-show host, charming interviewee, awards host, IPL owner, showman, businessman, cameo specialist, actor and prestige-picture star. His on-screen roles became older and wiser: King, tragic, scientist, ghost, coach, husband, bitter husband, older husband, Bollywood star, father. The romances became less aspirational and more practical. Believe it or not, this was a near-perfect decade for Khan in terms of consolidating his talent, tempering his fame and playing his age. (...)
The dark night (2011-2020)
The decline was neither quick nor painless. This was the decade that broke everything except box-office records. Terms like the 100-crore club were in vogue, and it felt like SRK wanted a piece of every cake. As a result, he strived to be everyone but himself - a multiplex hero, a single-screen hero, a hero's hero. (...) It's not like he didn't try. But he also tried too hard. (...) Somehow, every kind of filmmaker (...) made their worst film with Khan'.
