The king is dead, long live the king

So, there is a strange silence in the film world of Mumbai about the veteran actor Saeed Jaffrey’s death. BBC was, but naturally, the first and the fastest to report the news; after all, Jaffrey was an OBE — the Order of the British Empire, a title he earned in 1995 for his contribution to cinema and theatre in the United Kingdom.

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Slowly, the Indian media started pouring news about the man who was quintessentially Indian, but English by virtue of his professional training in theatre. We realised the legacy he has left behind, felt sorry for a passionate performer who barely got his due in the Hindi filmdom.

A veteran of 100 films in Bollywood and 100 in the British film/theatre world, Jaffrey’s filmography could be enviable or highly laudable depending upon who sees it and how. The first Indian to tour the American Shakespearean Company after doing his post-graduation in drama from Allahabad University before Partition, he took the elite theatre world in the US by surprise. To bring more fineness in his art, this Fulbright Scholar did his second post-graduation degree in drama at the Catholic University of America in 1957.

From 1950s to 2000, with his background of working and touring with the American National Theatre and Academy, grabbing the position of the first Indian to play a lead in London’s West End theatre, doing lead roles in British television in colonial dramas like The Jewel in the Crown and The Far Pavilions, and the very famous British Indian sitcom Tandoori Nights, Little Napoleons and the ITV soap Coronation Street, he became a little too big for Bollywood.

This is where legends like Satyajit Ray understood his craft and came to his rescue through Shatranj Ke Khiladi (1977), his entry in Bollywood. He grabbed Filmfare’s Best Supporting Actor award, playing the Nawab of Oudh, who loses his kingdom to the British — callous, immersed in his obsession for chess and alcohol.

Sandip Ray, Satyajit Ray’s son, remembers how his father loved Saeed’s work. “Saeed wanted to work with him but my father would tell him, ‘You will have to learn Bengali.’ But, when he made Shatranj Ke Khiladi, Saeed was his first choice before Richard Attenborough and David Abraham (who played other roles in the film). Saeed gave it all to the film; he was a one-take artiste. In fact, he helped my father and Sanjiv Kumar with a lot of inputs about the nawabs of Lucknow as he hailed from there. When my father died, Saeed wrote us a long, emotional letter. After that, we were rarely in touch.”

Shyam Benegal, the veteran director who is known to have changed the course of films in Bollywood, agrees. “Look, he was a superstar with all frontrunner theatre companies in London. He had a reputation. He was a name to reckon with, in London as much as in America. He was over-qualified for most films we made.”

And that’s why, interestingly, Benegal adds, “He had a typical habit of taking over a scene, merely because of his talent than anything else.” Benegal says so with conviction as Jaffrey worked with him in two films, Mandi and a three-hour docu-drama on Jawaharlal Nehru called Nehru. 

“What credence he had! Though he worked with me in Mandi in 1982, I knew him since 1970s. Since he was a powerful artiste, willy-nilly he would try to steal the scene from co-actors. So, one had to carefully, often surreptitiously, stop him from doing so.” Amused, the veteran adds, “There was this term in London called ‘jaffing’ (from Jaffrey), coined because of this habit. So, when someone would try to take over a scene, they would say ‘stop jaffing’ in a lighter vein. Saeed never minded it.”

Benegal swears by his professionalism. “There was never a time when he would not come ready on the sets; on time, impeccably dressed in costume and prepared with his lines. There was this word called DLP (Dead Letter Perfect), meaning losing a letter dead during dialogue delivery. With Saeed, there was never a DLP moment. He was a lesson for actors.”

Perhaps this ‘perfectionist’ or ‘taking over the scene’ streak had several of his co-actors feel restless sharing screen space with him. I asked Naseeruddin Shah about his association with him (Naseer and Saeed gave us that wonderful duet Huzoor is qadar bhi na itra ke chaliye in Shekhar Kapoor’s  Masoom in 1983). Naseer said, “I did not really know him well. We only worked together once.”  

Arif Zakaria and Imran Hasnee, who are synonymous with theatre and art films, echo, “He had a unique style of delivering dialogues and his diction was impeccable, original and distinct.” The truth is, Hasnee adds, “he was limited in range as an actor. Though I admired his diction and unique theatrical style of dialogue delivery, I always found him inflexible and slightly domineering because of his immense knowledge.”

Not an insider for Bollywood

But why this silence about him? Producer/director Mahesh Bhatt gives the answer, “He was so respected. He was larger than life. He took Shatranj Ke Khiladi or Ram Teri Ganga Maili to respectable heights. Though he did small roles in Hindi films, he always made a strong impact. This made many seniors uncomfortable. Though he lived mostly in the West, he had a certain rigidity in terms of culture. He came from Lucknow. His culture defined his life with ‘this far, no further’ attitude. He was not a party-type Bollywood is used to. He kept to himself, so he never fit in as an ‘insider’.” 

But, those who spoke about him, spoke with immense love and respect. Veteran actor Prem Chopra, who worked with him in two films, recalls, “Ohh, he was such fun. He loved drinking to the hilt. Once we were shooting at the Lord’s Mansion in London, it was around the time when his film My Beautiful Laundrette was also getting shot (1984-85). The Lord had invited us for drinks. Someone whispered, ‘This man has a drinking problem.’ The Lord said, ‘Oh! no problem.’ Saeed drank the whole night but didn’t lose control. And next morning, sharp at 9.30, he was ready, on the sets, absolutely in his senses. He was amiable, lovable and such a fine actor.”

Deepti Naval, who worked with him in Ek Bar Phir and Chashm-e-Baddoor, has warm memories of her “elder bro”. She recalls, “I used to call him Saeed Bhai. We met during Ek Bar Phir, my first proper feature film technically. I was also in and out of London. When I met him first, he came across as a warm, sensible and bright person with curiosity hovering over his face, just all the time.” 

During Chashm-e-Baddoor, Naval says, Saeed became “very protective” about her. “We had taken the film very lightly, we didn’t know that it will become a cult. We used to shoot anywhere, those days he became an elder brother, which spilled over throughout my personal life.” 

Soni Razdan, Mahesh Bhatt’s wife, remembers his large-heartedness, “I was a struggling, starving student of drama at 18 in London who would do walk-on roles (extra). I was coming from one such shoot from Gangster (1975-78, famous television series in UK) when he met me in a lift. He asked my name. So, he said, ‘Oh.. Razdan rings a bell. I am in love with a lady from London who is Razdan.’ I was shocked, he was referring to my aunt! Next, he recommended my name for Gangster, which had stalwarts like Roshan Seth and Zohra Sehgal. He gave me such a leg-up.”

One wonders why a man of such calibre was given such small roles in Bollywood, at times even bordering on lewidity!

Amal Allana, the former chairperson of National School of Drama, sums it up, “It was very unfortunate that for uniquely talented people like Saeed, there was no sustainable professional theatre in India in 1950s. So, people like him, Roshan Seth and Zohra Sehgal had to go abroad. They were proper actors, experts in English, Hindi and Urdu. They made a bid for everything; they had to hunt for jobs like any ordinary aspirant... also, they came from the upper-middle class. Working with everybody and anybody struggling to become an actor was a stepping down.” 

His idiosyncrasies are gone with him, the warmth and legacy remain. Benegal accrues, “Every professional actor is a little crazy. Saeed never cared for money, a graciousness not often expected of big actors. I would rather see the way he practised his art. Other things don’t concern me.”

Is Bollywood listening?  

The jewel in the crown that was saeed jaffrey, OBE

On hearing that Saeed has passed over, I felt a more than common sense of loss. He was able to energise the smallest of parts. His role in The Man Who Would Be King (1975) attracted international attention… he was the first Indian to receive  British, Canadian film award nominations. —David Perry, British Director

His face is embedded in British hearts. He starred with legends such as Sean Connery, Michael Caine, Daniel Day-Lewis. Our PM mentioning his loss shows how much a part of the British culture he was. The king is dead, long live the king! —Neil O’Neil, Screenwriter from London

As a little girl, I always admired Jaffrey. There was something about him that made me feel as though he was an uncle who was dearly loved and someone you could share any secret with. We were discussing him as an A-list star we could approach to fill a key role in our upcoming Hollywood biopic based on my book. —Jillian Haslam, Author of Memoir ‘Indian.English.’

He was very dramatic. He would speak immaculately, sit and stand like a thorough gentleman. He had a small built but his persona was overpowering. I was so impressed with his perfect diction and pronunciation in Urdu, English, Hindi, Punjabi.  — Deepti Naval, Bollywood Actor

The old die, the new are born. That’s our journey. Rejoice that Saeed had a long, vibrant career. The wonderful aspect of films is that the spirit of superb talent is indelible. — Cyrus Yavnah, Hollywood Producer

I knew him closely as a personality, but could never work with him because he was too senior, working with very senior people, and was beyond our reach. —Mahesh Bhatt, Producer/Director

The writer is a Delhi-based critic