Prosenjit has been a one-man industry in Bengali cinema for over 25 years now. Yet the 40 plus actor remains unfazed by fame, glamour, money, Cannes, Toronto, and the craziness of his fans across his home state. He could easily fight for a place in The Guinness Book of World Records for the number of hits he has delivered. Here he opens his heart out to Screen.
How do you look at the dynamics of ‘acting’ today considering much change has undergone over the years?
Acting was theatrical when I began my career. I was often compared with my father. Subconsciously, his style of acting had a deep influence on my work. Acting for me, is not just emoting on screen, in front of the camera, or expressing myself through the character I am portraying. I look at acting holistically. Acting comprises everything that goes into the character one is portraying - the costume, make-up, dialogue, fashion, style, body language, relationship with the other characters, everything. All these keep changing from time to time, from film to film. Since I was from the stage, it was not difficult. Later, I had to accept and imbibe the changes that came in. Acting can never be a hobby. It is a full-time, professional job. A professional actor must be able to handle all kinds of roles and directors. One has to understand the scale and the tone of the film and fit oneself into these. I should be able to feel the pulse of the character as the director has conceived it and deliver. I leave my ideology behind when I enter the floors. All actors must make this compromise if one chooses to dub it ‘compromise.’
Do you ever recall your days of struggle?
My father, Biswajeet, I must admit, did not lift a finger to help me, much less launch me. When my parents split I suddenly, at 17, found myself heading the family - my mother, little sister Pallavi and myself. Directors I approached could not understand why my father was not helping me. Some experiences were painful. One night at around 10.30, Maa and I were waiting for a taxi outside Indrapuri Studios in Tollygunge to take us to home to Dumdum, the other end of the town. I could see mother huffing and puffing under the weight of a heavy bag containing my belongings. People driving out of the studios in their cars did not even look out. I watched helplessly. When my father was a big star, she was the center of attention as a star-wife. The same people did not even bother to greet her when she was with me. This time, she was accompanying an unknown actor. I made a promise to myself that I would bring back those days of glory. She is no longer around but she did live to become a star-mother.
It is amazing the way you keep yourself distanced from the awe and the alienation of a top star. You are absolutely free of any starry airs. How do you do this?
Stardom was quite normal at home because my father was already a big Bollywood star when I was a little boy. There was nothing glamorous about it. Photographers and journalists walking in and out of the house was an everyday affair. Whenever Baba came down from Mumbai, it was festival time at home. Maa had a greater influence on our upbringing than Baba because he was absent during that period. My journalist friends keep telling me that I am an embarrassment for the term ‘star’ because I do not qualify at all. That does not mean that I am open to interviews left, right and centre.
And why is that?
Once a television journalist thrust his mike at me after a heavy afternoon of shooting under the hot Kolkata sun just to ask, “how does it feel shooting in this terrible weather?” Can you believe this? Here I am, shooting almost round the clock come sun, rain or chill for so many years and here he comes asking me how I feel! Preposterous!
You’ve acted with 50 leading ladies, a record in Bengali cinema. Who do you rank the best?
Debasree Roy. She is outstanding and completely dedicated to her work. It is a pleasure to be cast opposite her and I would welcome the opportunity any time she agrees to act with me. Many talented young women faded into oblivion, constantly throwing up the challenge of creating new and talented leading ladies in the Bengali film industry. There is a lot of scope here.
You are famous for changing your look for almost every role. Why do you do it?
I personally think that though changing the look may not be necessary for the character, it is important for me. I try and incorporate changes. It is a constant struggle to keep away from getting stereotyped. In Swapno, where I play the eldest son ignored by his own family after he has sacrificed everything for them, I wore weird glasses and had wavy hair that fell on my forehead. In Sangharsha, I had seven different get-ups. In Kali-Sankar, I have golden streaks in my coloured hair, I have tried to give my skin a rusty brown tan, and my costume designer Sarbari Chowdhury chose tight denims worn over white, full-sleeved shirts, with boots and dark glasses. The belt I wear is embossed with an eagle while the pendant is a sun. I was pleasantly surprised when at Cannes, where I had gone last year to attend the screening of Dosar, people approached me to ask how I had got Mahendra’s look in Chokher Bali. In Dosar, I look very close to my real self like I do in The Last Lear. I have also experimented with weird things like mixing up watermelon, butter and jelly to get the perfect wound on my face and body.
What about your favourite roles, and dreams?
Tarun Majumdar’s Apon Amaar Apon, Tapan Sinha’s Atanka, all films I did under Rituparno such as Utsab, Chokher Bali, Dosar and Khela are hot favourites. Add to this the two films of Buddhadeb Dasgupta, namely Swapner Din and The Voyeurs and Amar Shongi, the turning point that brought me where I am today. But I also love my portrayals in films like Criminal, Refugee, Maryada and Swapno. I am looking for new directors who would make films that would be something midway between a serious Buddhadeb Dasgupta film and a crass commercial film. I am looking for new scripts and stories. Bengali directors are confused about their target audience. They are not sure whether their film is for the audience at Nandan, the niche for off-mainstream films, or Bijoli, the prime theatre for masala fare. And I am waiting for a chance to work with Mani Ratnam. I have tremendous respect for him and for his work.
After so much success today where do you find yourself?
Today, I personally involve myself in every single department of filmmaking and no one raises an eyebrow because I am doing it for the film’s commercial success. This has helped me break away from my father’s style to create my own. I have done around 40/50 films each with five or six directors over my entire career. So, we have a rapport that helps either of us to understand precisely what the other person expects. I introduced the concept of the costume designer in Bengali mainstream cinema. Now off-mainstream filmmakers like Rituparno are also appointing costume designers for their films. A Bengali film would earlier be made at a total budget of Rs.5 to 6 lakh. Then, it rose to Rs.16 lakh. Today, Haranath Chakrabarty’s Refugee has been made on a budget of Rs.2 crore. I feel my responsibility does not begin and end with acting. I am responsible for how the film fares at the box office, how I look in each film since all films must get the money back. The Tollygunge Studios are my extended residence. The film industry is my extended family. My films are like my children. I breathe cinema. I feel cinema in every pore of my very being.
Why?
The answer is simple - I cannot do anything else but work in films. If that is so, then I had better be completely devoted to it, right?
Shoma A. Chatterjee
screenindia.com
