Mistress of the Night

Dharker, who many critics insist is the next best thing about Webber’s musical (after Rahman’s musical melodies), is visibly excited about the response her performance is generating in London. ‘‘It’s so funny really,’’ she says, ‘‘I’m finally playing a Hindi film heroine. The whole song-and-dance routine, the tantrums, the guile… And I’m getting all these good reviews for it.’’ Laughing full-throatedly, Dharker says it is ironical because she has always avoided the hip-grinding-pelvis-thrusting heroine roles of Mumbai’s masala movies all her life.

But pray, which Bollywood mogul had offered her a leading lady role in those much maligned, mega-budget, shimmering song-and-dance extravaganzas, anyway? ‘‘You’d be surprised,’’ she snaps, insisting she has turned down many a Bollywood offer. ‘‘I didn’t do them because those films and their decorative roles just don’t do anything for me,’’ she says with a hiss in her voice. According to Dharker, it was the same reason why she did not leap at Rani’s role when it was offered to her but actually paused to think and decide whether she wanted to do the whole ‘Bollywood heroine’ routine for Bombay Dreams.

‘‘But then I thought, why not give it a shot,’’ she shrugs jauntily. ‘‘After all, it’s the complete antithesis to what I stand for, and that’s a good enough reason why I should do it. Because nobody expects me to pull it off. And to be quite honest, I wasn’t quite sure myself if I could pull it off,’’ she reveals.

Dharker, as you may have guessed by now, is entirely unpredictable. She will turn down a role in Santosh Sivan’s Asoka, despite the fact that he was the filmmaker who gave her her first starring role (in Terrorist), one that brought her both local and international attention and instant stardom. And then, for all the fuss she makes about being selective and fussy about the roles she takes, she will go ahead and sign up for an itsy bit part in George Lucas’ Star Wars film Return of the Clones.

‘‘You know, it really is about instinct, all these choices and these decisions,’’ she says brightly. ‘‘And up until now, I haven’t made any decision I drastically regret, so I think I’m doing just fine, thank you.’’

To give the devil its due, Dharker has achieved more than most other 26-year-olds. Right now she has a job in London, an international agent, and she regularly travels across the globe promoting her clutch of films at international festivals. She has admirers in Hollywood stars like John Malkovich and Samuel Jackson, who were both so impressed by her performance in Terrorist that the former wrote a piece on her in a New York daily, and the latter recommended her to the Star Wars casting director. She has worked with both Indian and international stars like Shabana Azmi and Patrick Swayze (both in City Of Joy), and although her movies are not exactly the sort that make crores of rupees, she is still a well-known name in the art house film circuit.

But Dharker refuses to be flattered by such details because she is obviously still irked by the suggestion that her haughtiness towards ‘‘vacuous Bollywood’’ is simply because the roles have not really come by. ‘‘I can always be one of them, if only I wanted to be that,’’ she says at the top of her voice.

No she cannot, you tell the dusky actress gently, because first of all, she does not fit the mould of the typical fair, vapid, gym-toned Bollywood heroine and two, she takes herself too seriously to do those roles. ‘‘Yes I can, yes I can, yes I can. But that’s not my goal, and I don’t want it. Believe me, if I wanted it, I could achieve it,’’ she insists.

But the young actress has too many issues to sort out with Bollywood. ‘‘Those kind of pointless films don’t interest me,’’ she carries on. ‘‘I could watch one and have a good time — don’t get me wrong, I’m not a snob but I don’t think there’s anything in there for me,’’ she explains.

Dharker is unstoppable now and launches into a tirade about women in movies. She is unpardoning in her criticism about how poorly women are portrayed in mainstream cinema. Dharker also complains there are barely any interesting roles for actresses in popular cinema these days. ‘‘I would not be content with being paired opposite the Number One hero. That doesn’t boost my ego in anyway,’’ she warns you right off the bat. ‘‘And I couldn’t just flit in and out of a scene, making an entry every time there is a need for a song,’’ she adds. ‘‘In fact, even the so-called powerful female roles are nothing but stereotypes of a hackneyed image. There is just very little imaginative writing,’’ she declares darkly.

It is no wonder then that despite the fact she has been offered roles in a bunch of interesting Indian films (Sai Paranjype’s Saaz, Dev Benegal’s Split Wide Open among others), Dharker is keen to pursue her acting ambitions elsewhere on the globe. Hollywood is a destination she might consider, and she almost barks at you when asked if she really believes an Asian could make it there.

‘‘Imagine asking me this question in the same year that an African-American actress won the Oscar!’’ she replies exasperatedly, shrewdly drawing your attention to the fact that so many non-American actresses (Jennifer Lopez, Penelope Cruz, Salma Hayek, Lucy Liu) are Hollywood royalty these days.

‘‘My commitment to Bombay Dreams ends in December, and who knows what will happen then,’’ she says, suddenly all wistful. If Dharker could have her way, she says she would like to make ‘‘a few good movies, back-to-back, anywhere in the world.’’ Like the time last year, when she spent many weeks in Trinidad, filming Ismail Merchant’s adaptation of Sir Vidia Naipaul’s Mystic Masseur, an experience she says she immensely enjoyed.

But before you can diss her again for abandoning her roots, Dharkar is quick to clarify that there are a bunch of Indian filmmakers she would be eager to work with, given the opportunity. ‘‘Mani Ratnam makes such wonderful films,’’ she finally relents, ‘‘so does Ramgopal Varma. Even Farhan Akhtar and Ashutosh Gowariker would be exciting teachers.’’ Note there is no mention of David Dhawan, Subhash Ghai or Yash Chopra. ‘‘Oh no!’’ she exclaims, seeing where the conversation is leading again, ‘‘Maybe I should do one of those films just to prove that I can,’’ she says with beguiling phoniness.