There's so much in store waiting for him, if and when the Megastar moves beyond staple diet and revisits his true potential.
Published Aug 22, 2024 | 11:32 AM ⚊ Updated Aug 23, 2024 | 2:07 PM
Megastar Chiranjeevi turns 69: An all-rounder who bowed down to the needs of the market. (X)
There’s palpable euphoria at RTC X Roads in Hyderabad—the mecca for the city’s film enthusiasts—as two superhits of Megastar Chiranjeevi, Indra (2002) and Shankar Dada MBBS (2004) re-release in theatres on Thursday, 22 August.
While the bookings across the globe have hit the roof, the Mogalturu-born Megastar, who turns 69 on 22 August, is working against time to wrap up the shoot for his fantasy tale Vishwambhara, slated for a 2025 release.
“As kids at home were grooving to the songs of my nephews and son (Ram Charan), I was slightly embarrassed that they were unaware of my work and I had to introduce them to my hit numbers. When they had watched Godfather (2022) four times and liked it, I heaved a sigh of relief. I felt I was relevant again,” Chiranjeevi playfully shared at a book launch nearly two years ago.
Nearly 46 years after his first film Pranam Khareedu (1978), Chiranjeevi is as agile as ever, eager to win over a new set of audiences.
He’s keen on being the charmer all over again— relishing the song-dance routine to bits, sweating it out with the action sequences, delivering dialogues that offer a throwback to his iconic one-liners while largely associating with fan-boy directors.
Is Megastar Chiranjeevi ageing like fine wine? Not all would like to agree.
Chiru, as fans fondly address him, has constantly voiced his interest in diversifying as an actor but points out how many come to him, wanting to see the good ol’ ‘mega’ star of the 90s with his isms, body language and references.
Has the performer in him turned into a slave of the market? His recent choices suggest so.
With every new Chiranjeevi release—there’s growing talk around “what he’s doing” versus “what he’s capable of” and the obvious comparisons with Amitabh Bachchan and Rajinikanth.
The truth remains that the veteran has been in consolidation mode for too long now and is in dire need of a director who challenges him as a performer rather than churning fan-pleasing indulgences.
Chiranjeevi with NTR (left) and ANR. (X)
Ironically, the foundational years of his career were built around his “hatke” choices and his appealing boy-next-door persona, a welcome alternative to ageing stars who were becoming a pale shadow of their past.
Of course, you may argue that he had greater freedom to experiment, but stardom in the 80s too didn’t quite dent his ability to take risks.
Come to think of it, Chiranjeevi was a product of an interesting era in Telugu cinema in the late 70s. NT Ramarao experienced a renewed resurgence in his career as he was nearing 60.
Akkineni Nageswara Rao was struggling to return to form after his open-heart surgery. Krishnam Raju, Krishna, and Sobhan Babu were gradually taking over the mantle from the two giants after a long wait.
Chandra Mohan specialised in comedy and dramas as a solo lead and a supporting actor. Murali Mohan, Mohan Babu, and Narasimha Raju were finding their feet in the industry in a specific set of genres.
Kamal Haasan just had a groundbreaking debut as a male lead in Telugu with K Balachander’s Maro Charitra (1978). As Chiranjeevi set afoot in films, the industry too needed new voices.
While every actor has a specific skill set that paves the way for their growth, it helped that Chiranjeevi didn’t box himself as an actor.
He could be a rebellious youngster in Mana Voori Pandavulu (1978), a sadistic husband in Idi Katha Kaadu (1979) and 47 Rojulu (1981) later, an entitled brat in Nyayam Kavali (1981), a caterer in Subhalekha (1982), and a loving husband in Intlo Ramayya Veedhilo Krishnayya (1982)—with the same ease.
A still from ‘Khaidi’. (Supplied)
After Chiranjeevi tasted stardom with Khaidi (1983), the palette gradually expanded. He enjoyed and excelled in dance like no other actor in Telugu cinema—Chiranjeevi’s exuberant moves in Challenge’s “Induvadana Kundaradana…” and Abhilasha’s “Nachhindi Girlfriendu…” spoke to a new generation.
Much like Amitabh Bachchan in the 70s, he also represented a common man’s angst and the fight for change.
Formidable support for Chiranjeevi came in through two important collaborations—with novelist and screenwriter Yandamoori Veerendranath and director A Kodandarami Reddy.
He alternated between various schools of cinema—an Abhilasha (1983) to a Chantabbai (1986) and Donga Mogudu (1987), to Aradhana (1987) and Yamudiki Mogudu (1988) to a Rudraveena (1988) and there was no stopping him ever since.
It was in the late 80s that Chiranjeevi grew more conscious of his ‘megastar’dom. He was growing rapidly and the stories were merely excuses to celebrate him.
His flamboyance and the joie de vivre in the films were still good to salvage the uneven scripts. Safeguarding his position in the market was the need of the hour and the rooted films paved the way for larger-than-life commercial escapades.
Jagadeka Veerudu Athiloka Sundari (1990), Gang Leader (1991), and Gharana Mogudu (1992) explored a new, uninhibited dimension to Megastar Chiranjeevi in the 90s.
Excepting rare outings like Apadbandhavudu (1992), Daddy (2001), and Sri Manjunatha (2001), Chiranjeevi rose to dizzying heights in commercial cinema till the early 2000s—which widened his fan base but drew certain boundaries around his acting potential.
As he took a detour from cinema towards politics and eventually returned to home ground again, one understands it wouldn’t have been easy to be in the shoes of Megastar Chiranjeevi.
Being the all-rounder, it would always be difficult to please everyone many years later. The decision to cater to the needs of a loyal fan base—who’ve been a rockbed of his strength for decades—didn’t come as a surprise.
Chiranjeevi and Shobana in a still from ‘Rudraveena’. (Supplied)
Yet, for those who have watched Chiranjeevi’s growth to a Megastar from close quarters in the 70s and 80s, it is disappointing to see him play the safe game all over again.
From Khaidi No 150 (2017) to the recent Bholaa Shankar (2023), the same duets in foreign locations, the ego-boosting references to his past, the “item” songs, the embarrassing romance segments with heroines not even half his age, are hard pills to digest.
There’s so much in store waiting for him, if and when the Megastar moves beyond staple diet and revisits his true potential.
While he has it in him to pull off commercial potboilers at the cusp of 70, it’s time he erased a few boundaries in his head and became more receptive to change. Like the Rudraveena he gave before a Yamudiki Mogudu, it may be a good time to strike a balancing act again.
Chiranjeevi has more to offer cinema beyond his fan-boy sagas and box office-friendly films and it’s only fair that a new generation experiences a taste of it (beyond the re-releases). We have seen him smash match-winning sixes in T20s and ODIs, but we deserve to see his solid defence in test cricket, again.
The best gift Chiranjeevi could give us on his 69th birthday—to not star in films that don’t deserve him and free himself from the confines of the market. Happy birthday Chiru!
(Edited by Y Krishna Jyothi)
