Explained: After Kisi Ka Bhai Kisi Ki Jaan paying homage to your own career might become the norm

In the climax of Gurmmeet Singh’s tepid yet playful Phone Bhoot, Atmaram, played by the inimitable Jackie Shroff channels his Bambaiya spirit. The diction, the sharp humour and the ‘bedus’ are all there, signature tropes that have now christened Shroff as a sort of flamboyant character rather than a sophisticated B-town veteran. The most iconic part of his mini-role in this film, however, is the actor picking up a flute and playing the popular tune from his hit film Hero (1983). Part humour, part self-reverential tribute to the role that kick-started the unlikeliest of careers it’s also a scene that hinted at things to come. Farhad Samji’s awkward and dated Kisi Ka Bhai Kisi Ki Jaan has now become the latest film that tries to gild its protagonist, build for him a legacy while also trying to effectively pass off as the actor’s life story. In Siddharth Anand’s blockbuster hit Pathaan, Shahrukh Khan returned to conquer a creative landscape many believed had begun to usher him out. His reputation, his pedigree had come into question and it warranted, perhaps a statement as opposed to an invocation of loyalty and fandom. [caption id=“attachment_12272582” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] Pathaan[/caption] _Pathaan_ , thus, smartly played the hand of the king, sort of reasserting the rule, that many had started to question. Understandably, the film also referenced the reality it had been set in. Both Salman and Shahrukh, appeared together and at the end, for that rewarding conversation about generational takeovers. There might be better actors, more sensible films being made today, but there simply isn’t the star wattage of what the Khans stood for to go around. It’s why _Pathaan_ never feels like a comeback, but an assertion of the king’s continued reign. It feels like a celebratory victory lap than an re-appeal for recognition. Pathaan’s post-credit scene, its undeniable cleverness, unfortunately has already set its first problematic precedent. Salmaan’s _Kisi Ka Bhai_ , attempts to recreate a moment of nostalgia for the actor’s once storied career. Bhagyashree, his co-actor from the actor’s first major blockbuster Maine Pyar Kiya, appears in an unremarkable cameo as an ex-gf; to sort of suggest the idea that Bhai has since his debut, been wooed by women left, right and centre and yet he has continued to live unattached. It obviously contradicts everything we know about the actor’s life in a personal capacity and yet it feels like a pained attempt at creating something iconic. The part tribute part joke, however, simply doesn’t land. Unsurprisingly, Farhad Samji has already twice copied the self-referencing framework of Pathaan’s most popular moments. For his forgettable comedy series Pop Kaun? (Disney+Hostar), the streaming service created a promo where Johnny Lever tried to claim his well-deserved status as the doyen of Indian comedy’s pulpy 90s. In Kisi Ka Bhai, that model stretches to canvas an entire film. Salman is the eldest of four orphaned brothers. Religion-less, nameless, and loveless, Khan’s role feels like an impish, but also self-appraising homage to a life that many know but few understand. More so it’s about a career, a life history that most suspect and few trust. That however has only emboldened the difficult star’s status. The more he has been doubted, or publicly flogged, the more steadfast love has become for him among his fans. Cinema is already a prisoner of the cult of celebrity. Couple that with the device of also making that celebrity the closest thing about that story to reality, and it might risk losing all integrity. The Khans have probably earned their tributes, but who is to stop from the lesser fancied, but no less egotistic plumbers and carpenters of this industry from imposing on us their self-styled legacies. Songwriters, technicians, directors and stars who feel they simply haven’t received the kind of recognition they could have, might now attempt to engineer it through sheer, blunt fiction of this sort. Netflix’s The Romantics has already paved the way for some seamlessly stitched PR for select film legacies and things might only unravel further should streamers start considering allegiances as a competitive edge. [caption id=“attachment_12126962” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] The Romantics[/caption] There are obviously some stars, the quieter, forgotten ones at least who deserve that late moment in the sun. Govinda, for example, has probably earned the kind of film that only a Govinda could have made in his time. There have been remakes, of course, but not the kind of screen-breaking commentary that Pathaan has managed to clutch out of a drifting zeitgeist. The point is that tributes will continue to flow, and might only double down now as actors, especially the older ones, propose their existentialism, as a sort of creative source. But how many careers will we really celebrate? Or how many are actually worth celebrating? Nostalgia and self-appraisals seem inspired when they help unwrap a cultural quandary. It’s why Pathaan’s assertiveness landed so convincingly. It’s why Kisi Ka Bhai’s falls, audaciously flat on its face. That however won’t stop this latest fad from turning into a self-congratulatory lap of naive honour. Brace yourself. Read all the  Latest News ,  Trending News ,  Cricket News ,  Bollywood News ,  India News  and  Entertainment News  here. Follow us on  Facebook,  Twitter and  Instagram.