Imran Khan: Chocolate boy hero or candy crush wimp?

In Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak, a quarter of a century ago, Aamir Khan played Raj Singh, a young, happy-go-lucky youngster who falls head over heels in love. He sang a song about life after college, played badminton in embarrassingly tiny shorts and eloped with the love of his life, even though their families were sworn enemies. He was pre-liberalisation India’s quintessential Romeo, daring to break established norms in a conservative country that had yet to see the advent of satellite television. Gori Tere Pyaar Mein, which released on Friday, stars Aamir’s nephew Imran Khan, now on his sixth attempt to garner the ‘chocolate boy hero’ status his uncle enjoyed till the mid ‘90s. Like his uncle, Imran looks young and fresh-faced, metrosexualised to the point of ‘Bro, seriously, what’s with that carefully manicured patch of hair on your otherwise clean torso?’ and a stubble. He sings a song about ignoring daddy’s calls and partying relentlessly, skateboards drunk through town (because that’s such a common sight) while dressed like Every Hipster’s Wet Dream As Reimagined by H&M. But does he have the gonads to elope with his girl? The girl in question, Dia (played by Kareena Kapoor Khan) is the feisty, social-activist types. However, not only does Imran’s character not elope with her, since there’s no real parental opposition; instead, he gets dumped and spends half of the movie trying to find happiness through an old-fashioned arranged marriage, despite his fiancée plainly telling him she’s in love with somebody else. Jeez. [caption id=“attachment_1246079” align=“alignleft” width=“380”] Imran Khan in the movie[/caption] Whether Gori Tere Pyaar Mein is accepted by audiences remains to be seen, but to me, it is the final nail in the coffin of the legend of the chocolate boy hero in Bollywood, especially if he’s being played by Imran. The legend of the hero who overcomes life’s obstacles just by being cho chweet began with Aamir, who, scrawny and pink-cheeked, made sacrifices for love but emerged with tears in his eyes and a song on his lips. The mantle then fell upon Shah Rukh Khan, who occasionally took a bloody beating for his love but more notably, played a mandolin in a mustard field in Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge and the air piano in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. The 21st century chocolate boy hero was, apparently, supposed to be Imran, who, in GTPM, oversees the construction of a bridge to prove his love. His cultural impact is now officially in the vicinity of nada; instead of being the young everyman, he is now a vapid, exaggerated version of an urban, upper-class hipster with whom few can identify. Imran Khan’s had a funny career. He started with a bang, with Jaane Tu…Ya Jaane Na (2008), winning audiences over with his fresh-facedness and urbane sensibilities. Travesties such as Kidnap and Luck followed, beating his street-cred to a pulp. This was then followed by the unfortunately spel_t I Hate Luv Storys_ (the directorial debut of Punit Malhotra, who has also made GTPM), whose somewhat inexplicable success gave his career a fresh lease of life. Khan’s acting talent was truly visible in Delhi Belly, where he finally got to speak most of his lines in English, a language with which he’s clearly more comfortable. In the meantime, films like Break Ke Baad, Mere Brother Ki Dulhan and Ekk Main Aur Ekk Tu saw him deliver performances ranging from ‘serviceable’ to ‘charming’, without him ever straying out of his comfort zone. Yet, when he did stray out of his comfort zone in films like Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola and Once Upon Ay Time In Mumbai Dobaara, he was unconvincing, mostly because it’s very difficult to take him seriously as a character with hinterland sensibilities. It’s not like Khan doesn’t have the goods. He is an able, confident actor who may not command the fan following or raw sex appeal of contemporaries like Ranbir Kapoor and Ranveer Singh, but he’s in possession of a quiet intelligence and subtle wit that he knows how to exploit. It’s obvious from his attempts to diversify that he’s not precisely a chameleon-like actor with impressive range, but then, not everyone can or even needs to be one. What he shouldn’t do is appear in the same rehashed, cutesy rom-coms that don’t make use of the irony and quick wit that made Delhi Belly work so well. If Aamir was once the Chocolate Boy Hero, Imran is on his way to becoming a Candy Crush wimp, if GTPM is any indication. What the modern chocolate boy hero requires is an edgier persona, and Imran can be the man for the job. Now if only he’d pick movies that made this point and made film choices that are brave and smart. In other words, it’s time, once again, to take a leaf out of his uncle’s book.