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35053668-Empire-of-the-Soul-Paul-William-Roberts

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320<br />

EMPIRE OF THE SOUL<br />

megastars come and go all <strong>the</strong> time in Bollywood, some around for<br />

what seems mere months, o<strong>the</strong>rs with more staying power. ———<br />

— was presented to me as a cut above your average next megastar, a<br />

serious actor at heart, and using stardom as a way <strong>of</strong> doing what he<br />

really wanted to do, regarding which he was, however, somewhat<br />

vague – beyond invoking Brando, De Niro, Pacino, et cetera.<br />

‘Really turn people’s heads around, you know?’ he fur<strong>the</strong>r<br />

explained. There was also a project that sounded ra<strong>the</strong>r like Raging<br />

Bull, but set in fifteenth-century Delhi and about a pr<strong>of</strong>essional<br />

gladiator whose uncle is <strong>the</strong> Moghul emperor. There was a lot <strong>of</strong><br />

intrigue, and much fighting that would be filmed so realistically it<br />

sounded as if people might have to sacrifice actual lambs in <strong>the</strong><br />

name <strong>of</strong> art. It ended in a Himalayan cave, with <strong>the</strong> gladiator now a<br />

guru, using his early years in <strong>the</strong> arena as a metaphor.<br />

‘Of what?’ I dutifully inquired.<br />

‘The whole movie is really his philosophy,’ he explained, plainly<br />

expecting me to howl with wonder.<br />

I’d been told he despised <strong>the</strong> Bombay film world and was eager to<br />

expose its squalid secrets: as long as he wouldn’t be exposed as <strong>the</strong><br />

one exposing <strong>the</strong>m. All he seemed eager to expose, however, was a<br />

vast ambition as formless as <strong>the</strong> universe itself, and equally in danger<br />

<strong>of</strong> disappearing into itself for no apparent reason.<br />

After an hour <strong>of</strong> recounting great American films he’d seen – but<br />

seen in terms <strong>of</strong> how much greater <strong>the</strong>y would have been with him<br />

in front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> camera, and behind it – he finally started answering<br />

<strong>the</strong> questions I’d been asking doggedly. After proving that his<br />

interpretation <strong>of</strong> Tony Montana in <strong>the</strong> Scarface remake would have<br />

humbled Al Pacino, with a Cuban accent somewhere between Wales<br />

and Sweden, and how <strong>the</strong> film would have been greatly improved<br />

by adding song and dance numbers, particularly during <strong>the</strong> final<br />

bloodbath, he suddenly announced that film-making in Bombay<br />

had become very sinister over <strong>the</strong> past few years.<br />

‘Always now you are hearing stories <strong>of</strong> how some don’s goons are<br />

paying visit to so-and-so after he is refusing movie role.’<br />

‘Don’s?’<br />

‘Big-shot gangster, like Brando as <strong>the</strong> Don Gollyonni,’ he<br />

explained. ‘Part One Godfa<strong>the</strong>r.’

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