Celebrity restraint
The beginning of an article about a celebrity sets the tone straightaway. The writer either extols the subject’s virtues from start to finish, or wields a hatchet with merciless glee. It’s rather rare to find a balanced piece that treats a star as an actual human being. Therefore (and in perfect tune with my contrary nature), I shall attempt to do just that.
So, Fawad Khan. Let’s begin with the thought that people act as though he is an overnight star, but stalwarts know better. Specifically, they harbour fond/cringe-worthy memories of a lad belting out angsty, rage-filled lyrics under the banner of EP or (if you are feeling especially pretentious) Entity Paradigm (even back then as a genuine fan, I couldn’t bring myself to defend this marriage of two completely unrelated words masquerading as a band name). Given their penchant for heavy metal songs that sound like covers, EP was not a particularly gifted or famous band. Yet, the band had a following and I suspect the lead vocalist was largely responsible.
EP sort of drifted away, and the next we heard of Fawad was in a Pakistani film marketed as being of superior quality to the standard guns-and-girls fare our industry put out with depressing regularity. The film (Khuda Kay Liye) had a theme and a message tackling, as it did, religious extremism, indoctrination, prejudice and a host of other subjects. Fawad, who played a young man who succumbs to fundamentalist brainwashing, acquitted himself reasonably well, without standing out or stealing the limelight from the veteran Shaan. Nothing major in other words, but respectable enough.
Flash forward to TV and the revival of sorts of Pakistani drama. This is where things changed dramatically for Fawad. I won’t gush about Humsafar; I doubt there is anyone reading this that has not seen, laughed, cried over and discussed it ad nauseam.
I will just point out that this series catapulted both its stars into the big time. Fawad became a heartthrob, with the sort of intensity and drama that strikes a chord among audiences of all ages, not just in Pakistan, but elsewhere as well.
What happened next is the blueprint of A Star is Born and every rip-off made of it. Fawad was lauded, praised, and eventually (inevitably) noticed by Bollywood. (A quick aside regarding Bollywood. Once Hollywood’s garish stepbrother – loud and frantic, endlessly churning out a single formula with different actors – Bollywood is now stylish, authentic and exploratory while still being nearly as prolific as ever. Indian cinema has matured and with it, the scope for actors). So back to Fawad.
He was invited in and he delivered. His debut seemed tailor-made, capitalising on his personal strengths as well as his roots (by roots I mean the Indian fantasy wherein all Pakistanis wear sherwanis, perform salaams and say “aray mian” before the start of every sentence). More than the film, it was the enthusiastic reception he received from the Indian media and fans that sealed the deal. They adored him. Fawad Khan had made it.
We all know what happens once a star has ‘arrived’. They are suddenly everywhere – juicy tabloids, stylish spreads, unsubstantiated rumours and adverts for sparkly shiny lifestyles. Fame is fickle and forgetful, so one must strike straightaway.
Here is where it gets tricky (yes, even more than playing a gay man in a film while being Muslim and Pakistani). Endorsements are enticing beyond doubt, and who would say no to a pile of money for just standing around and looking pretty? So rather than shun the opportunity to make a killing, the key here is discernment and balance.