The Dulquer factor

Dulquer Salmaan lets out a laugh that is halfway between a sigh and a groan. He has heard this question before. How does Kerala’s much loved leading man feel about the trailer of Karwaan “introducing” him to viewers, when he has over 25 films — many of them pan-Indian hits — to his credit?

The actor, clearly, has been fielding this query for a while. “I don’t think there’s anything negative about it at all,” he replies. “It’s like I am getting to know a new set of people, a new audience. If I am still getting introduced, it’s a privilege.”

His debut Hindi film, Karwaan was released on August 3. Directed by Akarsh Khurana and produced by Ronnie Screwvala and Prithi Rathi Gupta, the film stars Irrfan Khan and Mithila Palkar alongside Salmaan. Karwaan is a black comedy about Avinash (Salmaan), who has to undertake an inadvertent road trip with his friend Shaukat (Khan) and a college student (Palkar) after a mix-up with the remains of his recently deceased father.

The trailer of the eagerly-awaited film depicts the actors in personas that, by now, are familiar to viewers — Khan’s deadpan delivery of humour and life-lessons, Salmaan’s portrayal of an urban disaffected professional on the verge of self-discovery, and Palkar being simultaneously vivacious and sullen. However, seeing the three come together in a film that has a blue van with a coffin inside, raises both eyebrows and hopes.

Salmaan, whose second Hindi film, The Zoya Factor , alongside Sonam Kapoor Ahuja, is slated to be released in 2019, is disarmingly relaxed about his impending Bollywood debut: “Honestly, I don’t see it as some kind of big debut. I don’t function like that. I didn’t do that for my Malayalam films, or for the films I did in Tamil and Telugu,” he tells BL ink .

The actor proved his appeal was not limited to his home state with critically acclaimed films such as O Kadhal Kanmani in Tamil and Mahanati in Telugu. He continues, “When the script of Karwaan was narrated to me, I immediately loved it. It seemed like a genuinely honest idea — simple, sweet, slice-of-life, just the way I like it. I felt like I really wanted to watch the film,” he says in a free-wheeling interview on the phone.

Khurana, who directs him in Karwaan , attests to Salmaan’s steady composure both on- and off-screen.

Compelling script: Salmaan, who makes his debut in Bollywood with Karwaan alongside Irrfan Khan, says he loved the script about a road trip

“I’ve always believed that one of the toughest things for a performer is to keep it real and natural,” he says, “because invariably the need to ‘act’ kicks in. But Dulquer is comfortable acting natural. I think it’s a sign of experience, maturity and security.”

But what goes into the making of an actor whose star is steadily on the rise? What curious alchemy of circumstance, choice and design allows Salmaan — just six years in the business — to parse multiple film industries with fluid ease?

Bored of business

The second child of the prominent Malayalam film actor Mammootty and his wife Sulfath, Salmaan celebrated his 32nd birthday last week. Despite his father’s illustrious film career, acting was not the first career choice for him after he graduated from the Sishya School in Chennai.

“You must understand, I went to a school that was full of kids from business families, all of whom went on to pursue careers in business,” he says. “You’re always influenced by the people around you. So I did what everyone else was doing, and went to study business.”

Salmaan attended the undergraduate programme in Business Management at Purdue University in the US. After graduation, he worked in America and Dubai in the IT sector.

“I was in Dubai for a good two-and-a-half years. I was making good money; I had a car and an apartment. And that’s when I realised that I was following someone else’s course in life,” he says. He recalls the vast boredom of those days, the sense of everything feeling like a chore, of a sameness without end.

His friends, many of whom did not hail from film backgrounds but who were passionate about it to do interesting things in cinema, proved to be a key influence. He found himself wondering what motivated them to delve into films and what was it that held him back.

As a youngster, Salmaan used to tinker with filmmaking on his handycam. He and his friends would make short films that they would then submit to festivals.

In the days leading up to the submission deadline, he would be so charged with energy and excitement that he would barely sleep. “Eventually, I realised that I wanted to work in films. Irrespective of failure or success, I thought I’d be happier there,” he says.

Erring on the side of caution

But how could it be that with a father like Mammootty, whose four decades in film earned him a cherished and irreplaceable spot in the minds of Malayali viewers, Salmaan didn’t choose acting sooner?

“Because I just wasn’t raised to consider acting an option,” he replies matter-of-factly.

Mammootty, despite his success, would never take his longevity in the industry for granted or expect it to be transferable. So he wanted his children to take up a more conventional, stable line of work.

Besides, there is also history to consider.

When Salmaan entered the Malayalam film industry in 2012 with the film Second Show , there was only one second-generation actor who had a successful career — Prithviraj.

The son of actors Sukumaran and Mallika, Prithviraj did what no other second-generation actor in Malayalam cinema had done until then — thrive. With heavyweight films such as Celluloid and Ennu Ninte Moideen to his name, he earned himself a reputation for being consistently bankable.

But before him, many a son of a famous father was either a one-film wonder or, worse, entirely forgettable. Notable examples include Shanavas, the son of the legendary actor Prem Nazir, Murali Gopy, son of the National Award-winning actor Bharat Gopy, and Saji Somashekharan, son of veteran actor MG Soman. They existed as cautionary tales for Salmaan.

“There was no guarantee that just because your father was a great actor, you could act, or that people would like you,” he points out.

In this respect, the industry has come a long way, with the entry of many new faces connected to famous names over the recent years. Mohanlal, arguably the only other actor who equals Mammootty in power, prestige and fan base in Malayalam cinema, launched his son Pranav earlier this year with the film Aadi . The sons of actors Suresh Gopi and Mukesh, both of whom are Mammooty’s contemporaries, have also entered the fray over the last two years. But even with new names entering the fold, Salmaan is in a league of his own, sure of step and steady in pace.

Neelima Menon, a film critic and editor of the online film portal Full Picture, decodes Salmaan’s appeal: “What Salmaan has going for him is that he has a distinct look and style, which are all his own, and not derived from his father.”

According to her, Salmaan’s meteoric rise in the industry can be linked to the projects he chose to be associated with. “There is a clear departure from superstardom as a goal. Younger actors such as Salmaan these days are focused on being part of a good film rather than being promoted as a star,” she says.

Pursuit of happiness

Having decided to pursue acting, Salmaan called up his parents from Dubai to inform them of his choice. “They weren’t even remotely excited or happy,” he laughs, recalling the incident. “I think my dad was almost afraid. I guess he was worried on my behalf. He probably thought — what if this kid fails? Because, until then, I had never showed any sign of being able to perform.”

In 2012, Salmaan quietly entered Malayalam cinema. As a debut vehicle, Second Show was an unusual choice.

Directed by Sreenath Rajendran, a debutant himself, as well as starring other newcomers, the film did not engage in fanfare about the arrival of a new talent, or in any way underline his father’s legacy. Salmaan’s character did not show him in a conventionally appealing light either — he played a poor small-town boy working for the sand mafia, who branches out into more innovative and lucrative crimes while parodying the Malayali obsession with public respectability. But at the end of the film, a viewer knew two things — Salmaan had a rich baritone, and an undeniably arresting screen presence.

On the heels of his debut film was the immensely popular and commercially successful Ustad Hotel , which made Salmaan a household name. Acting alongside the late actor Thilakan, he portrays Faizi, a chef caught between his ambitions to run a restaurant and his grandfather’s beloved hotel. It would be the first of his upper-class characters marked by urban angst and soul-searching, reprised in subsequent films such as ABCD: American Born Confused Desi, Bangalore Days, and Jomonte Suvisheshangal .

“For me, the turning point in his career was Charlie ,” Menon reflects, “because until then, he had been playing various versions of what was essentially the same character. But Charlie required him to step out of his comfort zone and portray someone who was loud and flamboyant.”

Turning point: Salmaan with co-star Parvathy Thiruvothu in Charlie, a film that earned him a Kerala State Award for Best Actor. He then went on to take bold decisions in his choice of films

Directed by Martin Prakkat and released in 2015, Salmaan played the titular character in a film so overpopulated with hipsters and aesthetically-pleasing quirks that one is at pains to divest unsuspecting viewers of the notion that Kerala is a high-profile Instagram account. Nevertheless, his portrayal of the idiosyncratic yet lovable Charlie won him a Kerala State Film Award for Best Actor.

Making of a star

After Charlie , Salmaan went on to take bold decisions in his choice of films. Menon refers to Kammatipaadam . “It was a film in which he played second lead, while dealing with subjects that he couldn’t have known about first-hand. Yet he was able to bring nuance, sensitivity and layers to his character.”

Kammatipaadam , directed by Rajeev Ravi, is a masterful meditation on the costs of Kochi’s urbanisation, borne disproportionately by Dalits who are stripped of their lands and left with no recourse but gang violence.

Menon’s view is echoed by the independent film critic Baradwaj Rangan. “One of the nicer things about the younger Malayalam actors is that they act in a variety of films, so even though they are stars in one sense, in that they have a substantial fan base, they don’t slot themselves into a typically star-oriented role,” Rangan says.

Salmaan concurs, and points out how compared to his co-stars in other industries, actors in Malayalam films do larger volumes of work, typically taking up three to four projects a year. This gives them the courage to try out different genres and characters, as well as be choosy about scripts, he argues. “This is the magic of Malayalam cinema,” he says.

Compared to the three major film industries in India — Hindi, Tamil and Telugu — the Malayalam industry has smaller budgets. According to Rangan, when the budgets are smaller, the filmmaker’s ability to take risks with the film also increases.

Moreover, unlike Tamil cinema, the lead actor’s fee does not take up most of the film’s budget. This allows the team to hire better equipment, personnel and talent, he says. Citing Salmaan’s films Comrade in America and Solo , Rangan says, “Even if these did not do too well, you have to admire the fact that these are not safe films. These are not lazy films.”

A historical moment

Salmaan is positioned at a unique point in the history of Malayalam cinema. In one respect, filmmaking in the industry is witnessing important changes in form and focus. In another respect, the industry itself has come under scrutiny for its treatment of women.

Films such as Traffic , Chaapa Kurishu , Maheshinte Prathikaaram and, more recently, Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum have brought about a seismic shift in filmmaking and storytelling. These films aren’t led by male heroes around whom the plot is based; rather, the film is propelled by the narrative force of the screenplay.

Focusing on small, localised stories that use accents and cultural specificities to build an atmosphere of realism, these films have come to exemplify the “New Generation” in Malayalam cinema.

However, some would argue that it is a misnomer to call it ‘new’ when it is merely a return. Salmaan, especially, is emphatic. “Please don’t say it’s some new thing. It isn’t. We’re just going back to our roots,” he holds.

By roots, he is referring to what is known as the “Golden Age” of Malayalam cinema. Menon agrees with him. “In the ’80s, directors such as Padmarajan and Bharathan changed the rules of what was mainstream and what was offbeat,” she says.

With back-to-back hits such as Namukku Parkkan Munthiri Thoppukal, Thoovanathumbikal and Moonam Pakkam , these films created the grammar for the complex visual storytelling that forms the basis of the feted “New Generation” films today.

Towards the ’90s and the subsequent decade, however, star-driven films that celebrated alpha male masculinity, including Narasimham and Ravanaprabhu , dominated the industry, thereby also creating personality cults such as the one around Salmaan’s father, Mammootty. This was the decade that made megastars out of actors.

“With the success of Traffic , the rules changed again,” Menon explains. “Directors like Lijo Jose Pellisery, Ashiq Abu, and Dileesh Pothan made films backed by strong scripts, and broke the spell of audience attention being focussed solely on superstars,” she adds.

Salmaan is part of this resurgent wave through films such as 5 Sundarikal and Kammatipaadam . Despite having a reputation for choosing off-beat scripts, he is still a mainstream star.

Smriti Kiran, creative director of the Mumbai Academy of the Moving Image, which organises the annual Mumbai Film Festival, is a keen observer of Salmaan’s career trajectory. “If he chooses his projects carefully he will make a place for himself in the industry in the north that no other actor from the south has been able to do,” she says.

The Malayalam film industry is also in a state of flux. The industry was divided after the alleged kidnap and sexual assault of an actor in 2017. The survivor and other prominent actors formed the Women in Cinema Collective (WCC) as a space to voice their protest. The Association of Malayalam Movie Artists (AMMA) was accused of sheltering actor Dileep, accused of masterminding the assault. Mammootty, who was the general secretary of AMMA at the time, presided over the decision to expel Dileep from the association.

The WCC, however, was met with a muffled silence from younger male actors in the industry. With the exception of Prithviraj and Ashiq Abu, few mainstream actors took a vocal stand against the accused and AMMA.

“In every interview, I struggle with this question. I think what is happening in the industry is unfortunate, but I don’t think it should define the industry as a whole,” Salmaan says. “I don’t know if we’re a patriarchal industry. I don’t quite believe that.” Discussing how his movies have always featured strong female leads, he concludes, “I hope this issue gets sorted quickly. We have enough things dividing us as it is.”

Family first

As the interview winds up, he discusses his infant daughter Maryam, with whom he just doesn’t seem to get enough time. Fatherhood and family life — he is married to Amal Sufiya, an architect — make him want to take up less work, but he is at a place in his career where he can’t step back.

He sighs: “I haven’t felt anything for anyone what I feel for Maryam. You know, she says ‘Pappa’ now. And when she says it, I feel like the whole world is coming to an end.”

Since the spotlight is on fathers, has there been any change in how his own father regards Salmaan’s film career now?

He laughs and then pauses for a few seconds. “Yes, I think…I think he is quietly proud,” he replies.