An important part of Bollywood's ecosystem is the preview of a yet to be released film. Hosted by the film's makers, actors and directors, it is usually held in a small theatre in Mumbai's suburbs during the run-up to the official release. And like everything else in Bollywood, it comes with its own pecking order, hierarchy and protocol. Who gets invited to the preview, by whom and when are matters of grave import for Bollywood insiders. A star mom's show for her group of hand-picked friends or an actor's special preview for her favourite directors are the Morse codes that signal who stands where in the ever-changing landscape of Bollywood.
As someone who has been on the fringes of the industry (the very outer fringes, actually), I too have partaken of many such enterprises, watching soon-to-be released films in tiny jewel-like velvet and leather theatres at odd hours and in far-flung areas.
Seated besides Amitabh Bachchan while surreptitiously wiping away my tears watching Main Azaad Hoon, one of his most memorable performances in Tinnu Anand's underrated directorial venture, convulsed with belly-aching laughter at Dev Anand's inadvertently funny Hum Naujawan, and reeling from the ear-splitting whistles and applause at Ayesha Shroff's preview of her son Tiger's debut venture, Heropanti, have all been par for the course in my filmy encounters.
For an outsider like me, a film preview, regardless of what transpires on screen, is always a pleasant three hours spent. There are samosas and soft drinks, there is opportunity for some serious stargazing and the promise of a few hours of paisa vasool.
But for the film's makers, however much they try and camouflage it, there is discernible white-knuckled tension. Will that which will unfold on the screen and on which they have spent almost three years of their lives and most likely their last rupee please? Or will it be a thumping dud, one that will forever remain a dark stain on their careers? Have they outdone or embarrassed themselves in front of their peers?
Only slightly less tense are the members of the preview's invited audience, who know that whatever happens on screen they will be called upon to respond ecstatically when they troop out at the end. And what they say will not go unnoticed. Often, better acting is called for at the end of a film's preview than has been exhibited on the screen. That is why the audience at a Bollywood preview always prays that it genuinely likes the film!
Fortunately for all of us at the preview of Tanu Weds Manu Returns on Thursday night, this was abundantly true. The film is a rare jewel, not only for the sensational double role of its heroine, Kangana Ranaut, that effortlessly vaults over anything any actor has done in recent times, but also for the masterful manner in which its director, Aanand Rai, has captured small-town India in all its earthy humour and madcap incongruities.
That it will be a critical and popular hit is a foregone conclusion, we, the members of the audience, agreed as we trooped out of the theatre. But then none among us is oblivious to the fact that it is less than a week since another much awaited, highly-anticipated film, Bombay Velvet, had released and tanked, taking down with it many careers and much of Bollywood's buoyancy.
It is a skittish nerve-wracking time for Bollywood, with so much going wrong for it. So, mercifully when the preview of Tanu Weds Manu Returns concluded, no acting was required on the audience's part!
Malavika Sangghvi is a Mumbai-based writer malavikasmumbai@gmail.com
