A colleague was sent scurrying off the other day on a mission to interview a lady who her publicist described as ‘‘India’s volleyball captain Nandita Singha. She turned Bollywood’’. What he meant, he told us later in conversation, is that ‘‘she is the captain of the Indian women’s volleyball team and is now producing a film’’. Scurry and search . Did our sports department know of her? Could they speak to the federations concerned to confirm this information? The checking done, we discovered that the name didn’t seem to have high recall value in sporting circles where it should. What was her publicist thinking? The lady in question later clarified to our reporter that she had captained the Indian women’s side ‘‘for a few tournaments about nine years back’’. Whatever. It didn’t really matter by then. For film journalists used to the madness and mayhem that is film publicity, the episode warranted a shrug, a few laughs, and nothing more. But when the chap calls us the next time, will we give him the time of day? You bet we will. Because in all that madness, there is still some method. Unlike the PR professionals who work at hotels and other corporates—men and women who are wedded to their ties and saris—the film PRwallahs in Delhi are a different bag of goods. They don’t ‘‘strategise’’, they simply fix things. The often unsophisticated exterior is misleading. They’re wily creatures, all of them. They know that for every five journalists who pass over the ‘‘volleyball . turned Bollywood’’, there will be someone somewhere who might write a word or two. They know too, that bad publicity is sometimes better than none at all. They know how to drop a word in a ‘‘friendly’’ journalist’s ear about how the hero of a forthcoming release is having a torrid off-screen affair with the heroine, in the hope that such gossip would excite some curiosity about the film. It often works. And sometimes it does not. So when Esha Deol and Tusshar Kapoor are acting in two films together, you are likely to suddenly hear ‘‘rumours’’ that they are seeing each other. Producers, directors and actors can cry themselves hoarse decrying the stories generated by the Mumbai-based film magazines, dismissing it all as ‘‘yellow journalism’’. But the fact remains that the sources of information for most of these stories are these very producers, directors and actors themselves, or their savvy PRwallahs. They can always later blame it on the press. It happened with the Salman Khan-starrer Tere Naam that was released just last month. First came images of a tortured Salman in television promos, accompanied by the film’s catchline: ‘‘unfortunately a true love story’’. It seemed odd, since we had known for a while that Tere Naam is a remake of a southern hit called Setu which does not bear a resemblance to Salman’s much-publicised love life. Then strategic ‘‘rumours’’ floated in from Mumbai that the film is actually based on Salman’s affair with Aishwarya Rai. Then, since it seemed to be working so well, someone in the production house or thereabouts decided to even issue a press release to that effect. Now that is something most wise PRwallahs would not do. The release arrived at our office just a few days before the film’s launch. Amuse yourself with this excerpt: ‘‘According to reliable inside sources, the picture Tere Naam is based on the true, unfortunate love story of Salman Khan and Aishwarya Rai. Salman loved Ash dearly but situations took such an ugly turn that serious misunderstandings developed between them and the relationship capsized . When they split, Ash used the media to ‘expose’ Salman by saying how cruelly he ill-treated her and how it was a huge mistake that she associated herself with a wayward person like Salman Khan. But till date, Salman has not uttered a word . It is being said that Tere Naam is the vehicle for Salman to tell the world that what (sic) had transpired ’’. At the bottom was the name and number of the PRwallah to be contacted for further information. By the time director Satish Kaushik and his troupe visited Delhi for a pre-release press conference, Kaushik had clearly realised that the press release had been a mistake. When asked about the ‘‘rumours’’, Kaushik had the gall to reply, ‘‘Press tho kuch bhi likh leta hai (The press will write anything).’’ When someone pointed out to him that it was not the press, but a press release that was giving out this information, he nonchalantly looked at the paper that was waved at him and said, ‘‘But this was not sent by anyone from our office.’’ By then the double talk didn’t matter. The goal had been achieved: the film got a good opening, and bad boy Salman’s sputtering career is suddenly all revved up. When Salman says his prayers every night, wonder if he thanks god for the PRwallah?
