Few things on our man Manoj!

Manoj Bajpayee as Bhikhu Mhatre in Satya (1998)

Back in Bettiah, Bihar, while growing up, actor Manoj Bajpayee knew of a small-time gangster, a Jeetendra fan, who would ride around on a Rajdoot (motorcycle). This bloke was fond of "free-flowing, bobby-print" (polka-dotted) shirts, with white trousers, white shoes.

That's what Manoj felt Bhikhu Mhatre must wear in Ram Gopal Varma/Ramu's Satya (1998). Given that Manoj was also the (uncredited) costume designer for his character, that he'd been mentally/physically preparing for six months before shoot.

With around Rs 25,000 for costume budget; in his regular shirt, jeans, Manoj "barged into a shop in Parle." His adopted swagger was already real.

He was oblivious of a girl walking out the same door. She interjected, "Excuse me?" He casually stared back. She instantly freaked, and rushed out. "I was so Bhikhu Mhatre in my head," Manoj recalls. This was in the late '90s, of course.

As a movie critic, I'm so tired of having to name my "favourite film" that I don't give it fresh thought anymore. Just say, Satya. Of course, there are far too many favourites. But movies are experiential memories, first.

And nothing matches totally staggering out of a theatre, when you're just around 18, no?

Joy Bag in Despatch (2024). Both films explore Mumbai as a crime scene

That was all the more with Bandit Queen (1994), actually - although I was under-age then, and shouldn't have been in that frightful theatre at all.

Director Shekhar Kapur had come down to Delhi to cast for all characters of Bandit Queen, from the Capital's thriving theatre scene. Manoj was in it. Bandit Queen shoot wrapped up around December, 1992.

Soon after, writer-actor Saurabh Shukla and Manoj were on a train to Bombay. As were several others from the film's cast/crew.

Shekhar had drilled a hole in their heads. They just had to stop chasing idealism, and appreciation/critiques, from local theatre. He warned them, "You'll have kids; family to feed/raise…."

Where will you go? Bombay; where else! That's how Manoj & co. arrived at the city, freshly, deeply wounded by 1993 blasts - the event that truly changed Bombay, including its name. Not so much its films, though; until a point.

Bollywood equaled hero-villain movies. Producers told Manoj he could pass off for neither: "There could be the odd henchman, hero's friend roles, of course."

Notice Manoj in his only scene from Droh Kaal (1994), with Naseeruddin Shah, Om Puri, and Milind Gunaji (hero). Camera pans from Manoj to Milind. Next scene, Manoj is dead!

He did play a henchman in Ramu's Daud (1997). But Daud doesn't count. Because Ramu was the disruptor, choosing to make movies his own way: "He'd already made Shiva in Telugu, Hindi, Kshana Kshanam, Rangeela…" Hence, Satya.

Post the success of which, Manoj picked up no new part offered, for months. They were all ‘villain' roles. He says back-pages of film-trade magazines would regularly publish ‘blind items' on him gone delulu!

The phrase ‘blind item' inevitably remind me of the late Sushant Singh Rajput who, like Manoj, moved from Bihar to Bombay, through Delhi - going from stage, TV, to lead roles in films. They were also co-actors in Sonchiriya (2019).

Many wondered, once Sushant passed away, if showbiz/city, the pressures/politics of which he couldn't handle, eventually got to him.

Manoj says, "Nobody knows what happened to Sushant [behind closed doors] in his home. Neither does CBI [investigating the case]. As a [senior] colleague, I would advise him to grow a thicker skin [like me]."

On screen, you see Manoj hit by the cruelty of Bombay the worst, as crime reporter, Joy Bag, in Despatch (2024; Zee5) - with a life totally screwed up, whether to do with love, family, profession.

It's Manoj's last release that, like his first hit, Satya, surveys the city as a crime scene, 26 years hence. Also, it mirrors the transition of the medium for edgy, powerful cinema, from theatres to OTT - that Manoj, 55, says, he's somehow managed to ride, inevitably being on the right page/place/time.

Bhikhu Mhatre is, of course, way more joyous than Joy Bag. That apart, what separates the two films is the obsessive nature of the latter's director, Kanu Behl, who would drive Manoj nuts, exploring thus, his fresh side as an actor, through the character's backstory, improvisations, workshops, strenuous shoots…

Ramu's a chiller in comparison. Consider the scene when Bhikhu first meets Bhau Thakurdas Jhawle (Govind Namdeo) in Satya.

He touches his feet. Ramu asked, "Why did you do that?" While Manoj merely had a one-liner for a script, he didn't tell Ramu he'd written a full backstory to Bhikhu: "Ramu would hate that!"

What's that backstory? Manoj says, "Bhikhu moved with his family, as a child, to Bombay, from around Kolhapur. Bhikhu's father worked for Bhau. Upon his death, Bhau took complete care of Bhikhu's family. Which is why, even when Bhau yells at him for bumping off Guru Narayan, he doesn't look him in the eyes. The respect is supreme…"

We could be looking at a prequel of Satya, scripted by Manoj. Or, maybe not. Great films should be left untouched, to be re-watched, instead. Satya re-releases in theatres on January 17. Can't wait.

Mayank Shekhar attempts to make sense of mass culture. He tweets @mayankw14
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