Towards the end of The Lunchbox (2013), Saajan Fernandes (Irrfan Khan), a widower, gets ready for a date. It바카라s an unlikely romance, an old-school romance: He and Ila (Nimrat Kaur) have never met; she sends him food to his office every day; they confide in each other through long letters. On the morning of his date though, when Saajan goes to the bathroom, he finds 바카라it smelled the same, exactly the same after my grandfather had been in the shower,바카라 he tells her later. It was the 바카라smell of an old man바카라. 바카라I don바카라t know when I became old바카라maybe it was that morning, maybe it was many mornings ago.바카라 He reaches the restaurant and sees Ila: fidgety, pretty, young. Saajan wants to meet her, talk to her, but he turns around and leaves. 바카라No one buys yesterday바카라s lottery ticket, Ila. You바카라re young; you can dream. And for some time, you let me in your dreams. I wanted to thank you for that.바카라
Shaped by his society and time, Saajan describes old age in the way it바카라s portrayed in popular culture and internalised in life: a period that signals regress not progress, underpins deprivation not desire, prizes sacrifice not self. Cinema, too, has favoured and fetishised the young: their bodies, their minds, their pursuits바카라it바카라s a universal truth, an ageless monopoly. The actors must be young even if their characters are not, especially if they바카라re women. Consider Mother India (1957), where Nargis plays a moral and sacrificial mother, a trailblazing role that바카라d define motherhood바카라and, by extension, feminine old age바카라in Hindi cinema. Nargis hadn바카라t even turned 30 when the movie hit the theatres. Less than five months later, she married Sunil Dutt, an actor who played her son in the film.
Two decades later, Bollywood had a new star, Amitabh Bachchan, the Angry Young Man who, like his postcolonial country, lacks a father and dotes on his mother. She바카라s poor and oppressed, virtuous and sacrificial바카라an embodiment of (stereotypical) old age. Bachchan, the son, and Nirupa Roy, the mother, appeared in many such dramas. Their age difference? Twelve years. Ageism in Hindi cinema, in fact, finds distinct echoes in Bachchan바카라s on-screen mothers: As the Angry Young Man got older, his mothers got younger. Here바카라s a small sample: Trishul (1978), Bachchan, 36 years, Waheeda Rehman, 40; Shakti (1982), Bachchan, 40, Rakhee, 35; Agneepath (1990), Bachchan, 48, Rohini Hattangadi, 35. Such examples have continued to persist. Most recent? Jawan (which literally means young): Shah Rukh Khan, 57; Ridhi Dogra, 39.
Age is not just a number; it바카라s also a language. It communicates who should do what바카라and when. It바카라s even more applicable to cinema which, for a very long time, has dictated the definitions of beauty, propriety, and normalcy. And, at times, this messaging is not covert but overt. In 1984, a Filmfare cover was bold (and shameless) enough to ask: 바카라She바카라s 30. Where does Rekha go from here?바카라
Early Hollywood, on the other hand, operated in an insidious mode: It demonised old age. And it did so with a flourish so smooth and so meta바카라using appropriate actors and plots바카라that it became near-impossible to separate fact from fiction, derision from empathy. Take Sunset Boulevard (1950), pivoted on a has-been star hoping for a comeback, played by Gloria Swanson, 51, a... has-been star hoping for a comeback. An excellent drama about an actress바카라 failing relationship with time, its ageing heroine craving spotlight바카라via exaggerated physical acting바카라made her a credible figure of ridicule and horror. An old actress pining for respect and fame? Transgressive and horrific indeed.
Bollywood actresses have begun to highlight the problem, using their own examples when they had to play mothers to older actors or were replaced by starlets in the remakes of their songs.
In the next decade, another feted film, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962), raised the stakes. It featured not one but two old women (Joan Crawford and Betty Davis, both in their 50s)바카라playing stars way past their prime바카라who, much like their characters, were engaged in a decades-long feud in real life. Unlike Sunset Boulevard, this drama was a literal horror, and its implications about age much sharper and direct: that Hollywood would only tolerate an old performer if she embodied ridicule and threat. 바카라These actresses who had been previously cast partly because of their beauty,바카라 writes Sally Chivers in The Silvering Screen: Old Age and Disability in Cinema (2011), 바카라contributed to the horror evoked by their deviance from the very norm the casting of their own physical forms had set.바카라
Hollywood loved the idea so much that it spawned a sub-genre, called psycho-biddy, comprising dozens of movies, flourishing till the mid-70s. They featured once glamorous바카라but now old, unhinged바카라actresses terrorising those around her. It wasn바카라t enough that Hollywood feared (and loathed) old actresses; it had to monetise their anxieties and misfortunes, too. Before cinema though, fairy tales바카라relying on ageism and sexism바카라vilified old women as witches in Snow White, Hansel and Gretel, Rapunzel, and many others.
Popular Hindi cinema often derives inspiration from mythological texts, which help understand the depictions of old characters in Bollywood. Dividing a Hindu바카라s life in four phases바카라 brahmcharya (bachelor), grihstha (householder), vanprasth (forest dweller), and sanyas (ascetic)바카라they assign fixed responsibilities to each (almost like a 바카라temporal caste system바카라) where the final two stages, after the age of 50, are devoid of desire. No wonder, then, that many old characters in Hindi dramas have played passive roles바카라living more for their children than for themselves바카라showing a distinct lack of inner-life, personality, and drive. Many movies also frame old age as 바카라disability바카라바카라marked by debilitating diseases (most notably Alzheimer바카라s)바카라which, according to neurologist George Beard, also represents the fallacious 바카라moral and intellectual deterioration바카라.
Films have often cast old people in two broad moulds: crabby, whiny, angry (doubling up as upholders of sanskaar) or silly, playful, over-the-top (overcompensating as flirtatious). Both portrayals seem 바카라extra바카라, straining to find theatrical types. Bachchan바카라s Piku (2015), Pink (2016), and Gulabo Sitabo (2020) underscored the 바카라Grumpy Old Man바카라, while Veer-Zaara (2004), Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna (2006), and Bbuddah...Hoga Terra Baap (2011) tripped on glad-eyed gabs. Remember the psycho-biddy genre in Hollywood? Well, it had a counterpart, too. 바카라The use of older stars in the camp comedic context of the 1960s [which continued well into the 바카라80s, 바카라90s, and aughts],바카라 write Timothy Shary and Nancy McVittie in Fade to Grey: Aging in American Cinema (2016), 바카라demonstrated one final way of deflecting anxieties about aging: dehumanizing the aged on screen by transforming them into two-dimensional objects of kitsch to be laughed at.바카라
Bollywood actresses have begun to highlight the problem, using their own examples (when they had to play mothers to older actors or were replaced by starlets in the remakes of their songs), from Sharmila Tagore to Madhuri Dixit to Shefali Shah. Many Hollywood stars, too, have shared the joys of ageing, such as Halle Berry, Kate Winslet, and Helen Mirren (who graced the cover of People magazine in 2022). If the actresses have to remind the world바카라again and again바카라that there바카라s nothing wrong with their bodies, then the world has come to their male counterparts, as movie studios obsess over recognisable brands to sell tickets. In Hollywood, Harrison Ford, 80, helmed Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (2023). Sylvester Stallone, 77, will reprise his role in the remake of Cliffhanger (1993). Arnold Schwarzenegger, 76, will return in the action thriller Breakout. Back in Bollywood, which suffers from a paucity of young stars, Shah Rukh Khan has reinvented himself as a 바카라sexy바카라 action hero. Akshay Kumar and Salman Khan, too, have continued to thrive (despite their many duds). As if they all are living versions of Benjamin Button: ageing in reverse.
But a distinct change has marked Bollywood movies in recent years, as they probe the different dimensions of old age, moving beyond ailing bodies, passive caregivers, and sanskaari specimens, seeing them instead as complex wholes, individuals who fall in (and out of) love, talk about lust, regret, rebel, dream. Over a dozen such dramas have released in the last decade바카라several of them well made, such as Piku (2015), Badhai Ho (2018), Aise Hee (2019)바카라defanging a tired cliché. It바카라s also given Bollywood directors new바카라and newer ways to tell바카라stories. Films with fresh takes on familial bonds (Mukti Bhawan, Gulmohar, Goldfish); perilous and endearing romance (The Threshold, Aise Hee, Rocky Rani Aur Kii Prem Kahani), and assertions of lust (Lipstick Under My Burkha and Lust Stories 2).
This change has also given (much deserved) due to excellent performers, such as Shefali Shah, Ratna Pathak Shah, and Neena Gupta (who, in 2017, had to write an Instagram post, asking for work). It바카라s also told Bollywood filmmakers what can happen if they remove their blinkers바카라controlled by suffocating definitions of desirability, age, and stardom바카라and open themselves to the complexities and ambiguities of real life. Ditto Hollywood, which has seen striking performances바카라and Oscar wins바카라in the last few years: Anthony Hopkins (Best Actor for The Father (2020), making him, at 83, the oldest actor to win the honour), Frances McDormand (Best Actress for Nomadland (2021)), Jamie Lee Curtis (Best Supporting Actress for Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022)). Such exemplars of hope can be best summarised in a dialogue by Dharmendra in Johnny Gaddar (2008)바카라and, given that ageism is universal, it makes perfect sense that Harrison Ford had said something similar in Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)바카라바카라It바카라s not the age; it바카라s the mileage.바카라
(This appeared in the print as 'Age-old Formula')
