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The strong and silent hero

Jairaj

He has starred in over 300 films and has been associated with Hindi films for over 68 years. But have you heard of P Jairaj?

If not, well, he's a silent film era hero who now, at 88 years, is still erect, well-groomed, remarkably handsome and articulate.

Jairaj was born on September 28, 1909, in the Nizam state of Karimnagar. His father was a public works department accountant. Young Jairaj schooled in Hyderabad, then joined Nizam's college but left home before he could graduate.

It was then that his keen interest in athletics and Charles Atlas body-building techniques helped him. Jairaj's magnificent physique and Greek god looks caught the attention of Marathi writer-dramatist Mama Wareerkar. The visionary Wareerkar realised the importance of the nascent film industry, and persuaded Jairaj to join that exciting, if silent, world.

But this was 1929, when film personalities are shunned by people from good families. Wareerkar was keen to remove this stigma and Jairaj, from a high-caste family, looked good in the vanguard of the new movement. His aunt was the famous poet and freedom fighter, Sarojini Naidu, but he kept this fact to himself till her death.

Jairaj started out as a duplicate stuntman in the Sharda Film Company. He helped the camera crew, managed the sets, assisted in the editing process and tinkered in the labs. And, before long, he was strutting before the camera -- finally the hero.

Jairaj, in those days, was very much a part of the studio system. The studio was a complete unit which employed actors, writers and camera crew and paid them monthly wages. The company was more important than any individual, including the stars. A film was referred to as a Bombay Talkies production, a Minerva Studio production or a Prabhat production.

"The system inculcated cohesiveness and a family atmosphere," said Jairaj. "No one was above the studio. Salaries in the pre-war days were low. I began on Rs 25 a month, plus two meals. My first role of a hero increased my salary to Rs 75 a month. The studios employed no extras and everyone chipped in with the crowd scenes."

Most films had English titles then and producers had this quirk of using alliteration when they were translated into regional languages. Thus Jairaj's Sparkling Youth became Jagmagti Jawani. He made 11 silent films between 1929 and 1931.

"It was a challenge," recalls Jairaj. "You had to make people laugh, cry or get angry through facial expressions and gestures only. Charles Chaplin is the best example of this art. But then, cinema, unlike the stage, is a visual medium. That was why silent movies had universal appeal."

But the working conditions were primitive, the sets rudimentary. Shooting, on handcranked cameras, were confined to the day. A film was made on a Rs 5,000 budget and could be finished in 15 to 20 days. Often, producers promised theatre owners that they would have a film ready in two weeks and kept the promise.

The cameraman and the director were the most important people in a silent movie. Until Alam Ara, India's first talkie, was released in 1931. Suddenly, one saw the advent of sound recordists, dialogue writers, lyricists, music directors and, later, playback singers. From just two departments in the silent movie era, the talkie ushered 17 different aspects of filmmaking.

Jairaj switched over to the talkies smoothly. As a native Hyderabadi, he was fluent in Urdu and this helped immensely. Shikari (1932), which portrayed a caricature India, bristling with lions, tigers and snakes, was his first talkie. It was a foreign production shot in India. "I played a Buddhist monk in the film," he recalls.

Soon the era of singing heroes dawned. Jairaj was no singer and, for a time, felt left out. But the playback system, introduced in 1935, solved this problem. He essayed any number of roles -- hero, villain, even comedian. "They were mostly lead roles... I might not have been the hero, but my role was the most poweful one in the film," he now claims.

Films like Bhabhi, Rifle Girl and Panna clicked in a big way. He played the lead in a number of historicals (Rajputana), biographies (Shahjahan, Amarsinh Rathod) and swashbucklers (Hatim Tai).

The industry, till then, was still in the hands of men and women who loved the art. Everyone was treated as equal. The producers knew every aspect of film-making. But the big money, generated during the war and after, changed everything. Film production fell into the hands of people who had money, but no artistic conception. And the studios died a slow death.

"The new breed of producers lured stars with money," Jairaj explains. "And it was hard to resist." Actors like Motilal, Chandramohan and Saigal, who had been associated with individual studios, turned freelancers; their rates shot up with each successful film. Laboratories were set up and films could be produced anywhere. The movie-making began to resemble an assembly line production of cars. Each one for himself became the motto.

Technical innovations brought in more changes. A film could be shot at any time, anywhere. Dubbing was introduced. Then came the star system. Actors and actresses commanded astronomical prices and held a production to ransom with their antics. Loyalty became an unknown term.

The 1950s was the golden era for Jairaj. He starred in a number of successful screen version of the lives of famous men. His royal looks and ability to perform stunts helped. In succession, he was Chandrashekhar Azad, Shahjahan, Amarsinh Rathod, Prithviraj Chauhan and so on.

Flushed with success, he went into production. Sagar -- an excellent, artistic film based on Lord Tennyson's Enoch Arden -- flopped miserably.

"I did not have the business acumen to produce and promote a film," Jairaj admits now. "Unlike others producers, I had invested my own money."

According to Jairaj, Shantaram, Raj Kapoor and Mehboob Khan were the only people endowed with the creative ability and business acumen needed in film production. "B R Chopra and Prakash Mehra are not creative men," he feels. "Dev Anand, for instance, does not have the business acumen to make successful films." Sagar made Jairaj a poor man but taught him many lessons. The most important one -- never to go in for production again.

Jairaj began to accept character roles from 1960. He did MGM's Maya, starring Clint Walkar, I S Johar and Sajjad. He also starred in Mark Robson's controversial Nine Hours to Rama. The film and the book it was based on are still banned in India. Jairaj also did cameo roles in Don and Rakesh Roshan's Khoon Bhari Maang.

He enjoyed working in south Indian productions and has great regard for the late Gemini boss, S S Vasan, in whose Insaniyat he had a major role.

"Vasan was a great man," he says. "Once, while on a family holiday, going by car in the south, we ran out of money. I mentioned this to Vasan whom I met into in Madras. He immediately lent me Rs 10,000 which I returned after we reached Bombay."

The veteran actor still accepts roles which come to him. "'I neither go after roles nor routinely turn down the ones offered to me," he says. He and his wife live alone in their Pali Hill flat, with children and grandchildren often dropping in for visits. The Jairaj brood consists of two sons, three daughters, 11 grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.

A multi-faceted personality, he is ready to discuss theosophy, philosophy, mysticism, astrology, cricket, even homeopathy. His den is full of books which have been read time and again -- as evident in the numerous markings and marginal notes.

He is up at 4 am and spends most of his time reading the Bhagvad Gita, the Koran, the Bible and Buddhist, Jain and Tibetan literature. He knew J Krishnamurthy and Rajneesh. "I respect godmen," he says, "but do not necessarily believe in them."

Plastered on the walls of his den are huge photographs of his favourite actors, Clark Gable and Rudolph Valentino. Jairaj also admires Spencer Tracy and Paul Muni for their versatility, a quality that has been the hallmark of his own career. He is also justifiably proud of the Dada Phalke award which he received in 1981.

Jairaj has been an active member of the Cine Artistes' Association since 1939. But Jairaj, obviously, has no starry hangups and does not share with some of his contemporaries the reluctance to get into an autorickshaw or train.

"Films can only reflect the time in which they are made," he asserts. "In our days, life was much simpler and the themes of our films were simple. Today, since life is much more complicated and competitive, films are also different. And, considering the working conditions in the industry, we are still making very good films."

But he thinks people get the films they deserve. The veteran referred to the dance sequences in modern films. "How many people want to see typical Indian dances like Bharat Natyam or Kathak? If people want to watch the break dance or the lambada, that's what the producers will show."

He is not so blaise about the escalating costs though.

"When I made Sagar, I spent Rs 10,000 on a dance sequence featuring Nargis wearing an ornamental chania-choli. Today, Sridevi changes at least four costumes, each costing not less than Rs 25,000, for a song and dance sequence that costs the producer more than Rs 100,000.

But Jairaj is still proud to being associated with an industry where caste, creed and religion do not count. "We are thrown in a cauldron where success and failure were the two measuring rods."

And he hasn't badly, eh?