Khans@60

By the mid-to-late 1990s, Amitabh Bachchan — once the undisputed superstar of Hindi cinema — found himself in an unfamiliar position. The Angry Young Man was no longer young, and his career had hit a rough patch, with a string of commercial failures deepening the slump. But, in 2000, he staged a striking reinvention. With a silver French beard and his baritone-heavy gravitas, Bachchan stepped into the role of Bollywood’s elder statesman, both on screen and off. Hosting ‘Kaun Banega Crorepati’, he embraced a senior persona, seamlessly transitioning into characters of authority and stature, embodying a commanding, stylish Indian patriarch in films like ‘Mohabbatein’ (2000), ‘Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham’ (2001), and ‘Baghban’ (2003).

At the time, he was around the same age as the Khan trinity — Aamir, Shah Rukh and Salman — are now. But while Bachchan became Dad, the Khans are, for the most part, playing Daddy. At the threshold of 60, they seem caught somewhere between embracing their age and stubbornly holding onto the vestiges of their youthful charisma — helped liberally by de-ageing VFX, notably younger co-stars, and carefully curated personas.

For those of us who grew up in the ’90s, the Khans weren’t just actors — they were the lifeblood of Bollywood, a cultural constant. Back then, their screen images were still fluid, evolving with each role. Salman, now synonymous with brawn and bravado, had a softer, almost boyish, charm in the ’90s, starring in romances like ‘Maine Pyar Kiya’ (1989) and ‘Hum Aapke Hain Koun..!’ (1994). Aamir, before becoming the industry’s ‘perfectionist’, balanced romantic leads with relatable urban everyman roles in films like ‘Dil Hai Ke Manta Nahin’ (1991) and ‘Rangeela’ (1995). SRK, before fully embracing his title as the King of Romance, was a bit of a wildcard — flitting between goofball charm (‘Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa’, ‘Duplicate’) and obsessive antiheroes (‘Baazigar’, ‘Darr’).

By the early 2000s, their personas had solidified. Shah Rukh became the face of grand, feel-good cinema, his filmography dominated by Yash Raj and Dharma productions, alongside the splashy masala of Farah Khan’s ‘Main Hoon Na’ (2004) and ‘Om Shanti Om’ (2007). Aamir cultivated an image as Bollywood’s thinking man, fronting socially conscious, ambitious and unconventional films like ‘Lagaan’ (2001) and ‘Rang De Basanti’ (2006). And Salman, shedding his lover-boy roles, transformed into the industry’s badass ‘Bhai(jaan)’, embracing action-heavy, larger-than-life entertainers like ‘Wanted’ (2009) and ‘Dabangg’ (2010).

Even as Bollywood grew slicker and more corporatised in the 2000s, it still remained largely star-driven, with a movie’s fate  — or at least its box-office ‘opening’ — resting heavily on the actor at its centre. Today, that equation has begun to shift.

The Hindi film industry, much like Hollywood, is seeing a gradual but distinct shift toward ‘content-driven’ cinema — where concepts, franchises and intellectual properties, rather than individual superstars, drive success. ‘Pathaan’ and ‘Jawan’ may have drawn massive crowds for SRK, but ‘Gadar 2’ and ‘Stree 2’ performed just as well without ‘bankable’ stars. Audiences no longer show up solely for the face on the poster; even actors with substantial star power can’t guarantee a hit unless the content resonates.

This change is driven by multiple factors. The Internet and social media have democratised fame — stars are no longer distant, enigmatic figures but hyper-visible and accessible, their every move scrutinised in real time. The rise of streaming platforms has reshaped viewing habits, reducing the urgency to watch films in theatres. Meanwhile, Bollywood is grappling with an identity crisis, caught between unpredictable audience preferences and the dominance of South Indian ‘mass’ cinema. These films aren’t just ruling the box office, they’re reshaping Bollywood’s creative choices.

Struggling to define its own cinematic voice, the industry’s response has been to lean into trend-chasing: churning out sequels, ‘spiritual successors’, and interlinked ‘universes’. Even SRK and Salman have been folded into one — the YRF Spy Universe,  highlighting how old-school stardom is being repackaged for a new era.

But Bollywood’s crisis isn’t just one of conviction — it’s also one of ideology. In an industry long seen as a microcosm of India’s secular fabric, a significant shift has taken place. The Khans, for decades the most enduring ambassadors of Bollywood’s pluralistic ethos, now find themselves increasingly isolated in an atmosphere saturated with majoritarian, right-wing and hyper-nationalist narratives.

Unlike their predecessors, the Khans rose to fame in an era where their surnames didn’t come in the way of their stardom. It helped that they came from cosmopolitan, multicultural backgrounds, wore their faith lightly, and had an appeal that transcended communal divides. In careers spanning decades, they have played barely a handful of explicitly Muslim characters — a factor that likely bolstered their broad relatability and shielded them from being viewed through a religious lens. But today, the industry (and the country) around them has transformed.

Cinema has become an overt tool of right-wing political propaganda. Dozens of films reinforcing chest-thumping rhetoric about ‘Naya Bharat’ (New India) and peddling conspiracy theories have flooded the market. While many have flopped, the ones that succeeded — ‘Uri’, ‘The Kashmir Files’, ‘The Kerala Story’, ‘Article 370’, and most recently ‘Chhaava’ — have left a lasting imprint. The government has moved from using WhatsApp forwards to using cinema as a megaphone. These films package aggressive, muscular nationalism with a potent sense of victimhood — an emotionally charged combination. Some, like ‘The Kashmir Files’, have been openly endorsed by the Prime Minister himself. Meanwhile, ‘Heroic Hindu King vs Barbaric Islamic Invader’ has become an overused trope, alongside a steady stream of films that remodel history, mock Nehruvian politics, or push Islamophobic narratives.

Unlike the Khans, other stars of their generation have either openly aligned with the ruling party or comfortably participated in this new cinematic landscape. Even outwardly progressive younger actors like Ranbir Kapoor, Vicky Kaushal and Ranveer Singh have, to varying degrees, engaged with these narratives — whether dipping their feet or diving headlong into them. They can take part in films coded with nationalism, majoritarianism, or caste pride without facing personal consequences. Ranbir Kapoor chugs gau-mutra in ‘Animal’— his next big release is ‘Ramayan’ — and Vicky Kaushal has found his biggest success with ‘Chhaava’, a film that Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis recently blamed for instigating communal violence in Nagpur. This, of course, is the irony of Bollywood’s current predicament: it is both weaponised and scapegoated as per convenience.

In this landscape, the Khans stand apart, their films still remaining broadly secular and neoliberal in outlook — even as they move from a relatively pacifist to a more aggressive tone, like the ‘Tiger’ films. SRK, in ‘Jawan’, directly appealed for responsible voting, championing democracy and development over communal and caste divides. He even slipped in the now-famous “Bete ko haath lagane se pehle baap se baat kar” (Before you mess with my son, deal with his Dad) dialogue, widely interpreted as a jab at the Aryan Khan case. But these rare flashes of defiance are confined strictly to fiction.

Off-screen, the Khans are walking an increasingly delicate tightrope. The days of political statements, playful digs at the establishment or even casual irreverence are long gone. The era of selfies with politicians and carefully curated social media diplomacy is here. Aamir, once vocal about rising intolerance, retreated from political commentary after the backlash he faced post ‘Dangal’. SRK, following his son’s legal troubles, has largely maintained a cautious silence. And Salman, despite his ‘bad boy’ image, has always been the most benign of the three — never one to stir political controversy. The rebellion — if there is one — is very, very silent.

No doubt, the Khans have been institutions, shaping and defining an entire era of Hindi cinema. Their longevity in a constantly shifting industry is a testament to their adaptability. But they are also navigating a world that no longer bends to the will of superstardom alone.

So, what of the future? SRK is currently living out what seems to be a long-held action star fantasy — one he openly acknowledged in the YRF-Netflix documentary ‘The Romantics’. The massive success of ‘Pathaan’ and ‘Jawan’ has vindicated him, but on the other hand, the lukewarm response to ‘Dunki’ might make him even more risk-averse. Aamir, meanwhile, has been more circumspect after ‘Laal Singh Chaddha’ — a film that, despite being scrubbed of any prickly political references, still found itself at the centre of orchestrated ‘boycott’ campaigns. (It’s surreal to think of a film like ‘PK’ even existing today, leave alone it becoming one of Bollywood’s highest grossers of all time). Salman continues to double down on his good ol’ macho hero image, but the diminishing returns suggest that even this formula has a shelf life.

Not much has been made public about their future projects. Aamir’s next, ‘Sitaare Zameen Par’, may sound like a sequel, but is actually a remake of the Spanish film ‘Champions’ (remade in Hollywood with Woody Harrelson). SRK and Salman will doubtlessly reprise their roles in YRF’s ever-expanding Spy Universe.

For now, all eyes are on Salman’s ‘Sikandar’, releasing today. The Eid holiday has long been his turf, a ritualistic reaffirmation of his hold over the box office. A few days ago, a promotional tweet from him popped up: “See you in theatres this Eid!” Alongside it were three selfies. His signature turquoise bracelet was half-hidden  — instead, what caught the eye was the watch, with a bright orange strap and a striking dial. The replies below revealed its identity: the ‘Epic X Ram Janmabhoomi Edition 2’ from luxury brand Jacob & Co, priced at Rs 34 lakh.

A superstar’s currency isn’t just at the box office anymore — it’s in the symbols they choose to wear. And in the India of today, all three Khans seem to know exactly what time it is.

— The writer is a film professional