THE ACTRESS WHO LOVED HER SHADES OF GREY

It is very easy to be typecast in Bollywood – fond as it is of formula, driven as it is by the box office. It is for this reason that one hit film spawns an outbreak of clones, one hit song has its flurry of imitators – creating labels like the ‘angry young man’ or the ‘pativrata naari’ (the devoted wife) or the ‘all-sacrificing mother.’

In the fifties and sixties, some of these labels were taboo to most newcomers – particularly good looking aspirants avoided negative roles like the plague. Women in particular had a lot more to be wary of – there was the saccharine sweet, sister-of-the-hero role – it condemned many a fine actress to a lifetime of blink and miss roles of hero worshipping and serving as bait for would-be rapists who the hero could beat to pulp.

Then there was most dreaded role for any actress worth her salt – the long suffering mother, who had all of three expressions for any given movie. 1) Heartbreaking despair – reserved for calamities like losing the husband or the house. 2) Heartwarming joy – for the day the son comes through the door, announcing he has passed, “First claass first, ma!” 3) Heartfelt look of gratitude – to either thank the Lord above for His blessings or even sethji for finally agreeing to marry his daughter to her hero son. This was the most dreaded role for any heroine for it signaled that she had lost the battle against age and now be reigned to adding streaks of white In her hair.

Finally, there was one more role heroines kept more than an arm's length away – the role of the Vamp – for it simply meant ‘the end’ to her career as a lead actress. She'd be condemned to sport atrocious wigs, flash skin through skimpy clothes and blow smoke rings into the hero's face while tipping poison into his drink. And yes, one had to look seductive all the time.         

Of course, this phenomenon of dreaded labels didn't happen overnight – it must have taken at least a decade or two for people to realize how some roles shaped an actor's career. They became an example for others, not because they had wanted to – but only because they had not known then that their choices made in innocence would later impact their careers. 

Among the first such examples was an actress called Nadira. Born as Florence Ezekiel in a Baghdadi Jewish family on 5^th December, 1932, she made a dramatic entry into the film industry in the role of a feisty Rajput princess in the movie “Aan” opposite Dilip Kumar.

For a film made in the fifties, the role was that of a spoilt silly, brash relic of royalty where many scenes, even bordered on the cruel. It was certainly not the goody, goody role of a typical Bollywood heroine whose dharma is to run around trees as a lover and then not let her saree pallu drop as a wife.

The film was a raging hit when it released in 1952 and Nadira, who does transform into a reformed, caring love interest towards the end, became an instant star. Her fiery role was lauded for its boldness and her next film appearances were looked forward to by audiences. Maybe out of instinct or because of the roles that came her way, Nadira walked the road of a typical heroine till about 1955.

Then she was offered the role of Maya in Shree 420 by Raj Kapoor – a role which would be the clear opposite to the role enacted by Nargis, the other actress in the film. While Nargis would be the innocent, simple, down-to-earth girl next door, Maya would be what her name suggested – a cigarette wielding, liquor guzzling, rich brat who could only drag the hero down to his doom.

Nadira accepted the role eagerly, probably not aware then that she was signing up for a lifetime of negative roles, of darker shades that would never let her become the heroine that she was expected to become. And the super success of “Shree 420” would go on to seal her image as a ruthless, conniving woman who would adopt any dubious means to get what she wanted.  

But what was it that Nadira really wanted? After Shree 420, she was never offered the role of a lead heroine, and while she may not have liked it, she quickly resigned herself to it. If Miss Goody Two Shoes was not in her destiny, then she would perfect that mean streak which would be her calling card in Bollywood.

If one sees her body of work, it would seem that she relished that dash of evil in her characters, essaying dark and mean women who wanted to make one’s skin crawl. Even when she played the role of a mother in “Julie,” her character had so many grey shades that it was just short of being a complete villain.

She went on to win a Filmfare Award for the Best Supporting Actor for the role, an ode to the niche of evil she had carved for herself. A niche where people would think of one name who pioneered the institution of the vamp – Nadira.