Like Big Brother, Mohan Joshi is omnipresent. He induces you to eat Goa gutkha with the unmistakable Aaj To Mazaa Aaa Gaya. He plays the paan-chewing baddie in a series of Hindi movies that you will be unable to keep track of. He pops out of the small screen in those seemingly unending sitcoms. Open the weekend papers for Marathi theatre ads, and you cannot miss the familiar face, currently playing three different roles in plays of different genres.
Almost making us wonder if there are 48 hours in his daily schedule, artiste Mohan Joshi presents the archetypal constituent of today’s entertainment industry: happily hopping from one shooting location to another, popping out of big and small screens. A versatile actor who convincingly handles a Marathi classic like Gadhvache Lagna while being equally at ease with the role of a villain in the Sanjay Dutt-starrer Vaastav. An athletic hefty middle-aged figure with the resonant difficult-to-dismiss voice remain his selling points.
It is interesting to delve into the psyche of the `busy’ performer, especially since he starts the chat with plain pragmatism. “There is very little in the hands of the actor/actress or character artiste like me. The entertainment industry is run by a few producers, directors and stars. The rest just flow along,” he affirms.
It was in the late sixties that Joshi started his acting career in Pune. After graduation, he was involved in the plays and skits staged under the aegis of Maharashtra Labour Welfare Board. Despite lack of formal training, he did well in many plays, the best being his performance in Moruchi Mavshi. His acting skills gave him a clerical job in Kirloskar Oil Engine, from where he continued theatre work. In 1983 he started his transport business. Interestingly, he used to transport his own sets to the auditorium in his vehicle. His pursuit of theatre brought him to Mumbai in the late eighties. Plays like Thank You Mr Glad, Nati Goti and Karti Kaljat Ghusali won him many accolades and state-level awards. However, commercial success came after much toil, and in his words, “I have done the most menial jobs in this city before making it big.” The turning point came with the film Bhookamp in which he played the villain for the first time. The role just clicked and he plunged intothe commercial Hindi film industry, where he remains happy till date, albeit in small and not-so-big chracter roles. The actor also has around thirty Marathi films to his credit.
“The industry offers glamour, money, contacts, social status. What else does one need in life? And once you have decided to get all this, you must be willing to sacrifice in equal measure,” he states candidly. As he adds in jest, one must follow certain dos and don’ts in the film industry. First, be happy, for it improves your face value. Second, never crib about delayed shooting schedules. “If they call you at 9 am, reach after eleven, for they sweep the floor at nine.” Third, never ask a director/producer for the story/plot/role. “Your unhealthy curiosity can get you out of the film the very next moment.”
In his initial years, Joshi recalls that some of his theatre performances had to be cancelled due to erratic shooting schedules. “Working in a Hindi film is totally different from doing Marathi theatre. Commercial theatre imposes a lot of discipline on the actor, especially in terms of rehearsal timings and performance dates. Whereas there is no semblance of discipline in the shooting of films. A hero’s whim can suddenly fling you into a locale in Switzerland, leaving your producers at their wit’s end. One has to be prepared for anything.”
Working for television is an equally testing experience, though for other reasons, says Joshi. “With scores of channels opening every day, there is tough competition and limited budgets. Producers are under tremendous pressure to churn one serial after another. To make matters worse, there are very few writers, leave aside quality writers. Anybody who puts pen to paper can become a writer,” he laments, quickly adding that “Actors cannot make much of such shoddy scripts. And who has the time for good acting? We work as if in a factory producing the stipulated number of consumer durables in record time.”
Joshi recalls writers “manufacturing” scripts on the actual sets of the teleserial. “I have seen writers `thinking’ of the story on the shooting locations. If this is the level of concentration from the creator, what quality and conviction can you expect from the actor?” Joshi is currently associated with five teleserials, of which one is on air.
Is it because of these ways of the television and film industry that Joshi has returned to Marathi theatre of late? “Yes, I did reach saturation point. To be frank, I had earned enough money and fame to be able to enjoy the magic of a live performance. It gives me the kick that no other medium can beat,” he admits. In the last 30 days Joshi has done 38 shows of three different plays (Shree Tashi Sau, Gadhvache Lagna and Ekada Pahave Karoon). He will soon be off on a foreign tour where he will perform for the NRMs (Non-resident Maharashtrians). It is another matter that the proposed trip has put further pressure on his schedule, making him leave the house at seven in the morning to come back only next morning. What does he do in the night? Shooting, he answers. He says artistes have become very savvy these days. “Television offers temporary success. Similarly, television audience is very impatient and ever-armed with the remote control. Therefore, artistes make the most of their time,preparing themselves for much-expected lean patches.”
Does he ever feel tired of being part of the factory, physically as well as emotionally? “Never. If the audience, and by that I mean the first-bencher, like the films and teleserials, they must be good. They take the films very seriously. It is only the critics who cares for plot and story. And we are here to portray the larger-than-life element on the screen. And I enjoy doing that.”
He is not the type to get easily disturbed or upset. Nor does he like to think too much. “I am a commercial actor, and naturally I work for money,” he states. Is that why he does not pay attention to the producers’ credentials while signing a film or a serial, be it the Sri Adhikari Brothers or Deepak Nikhalje? “A producer is a producer is a producer. He may be a bhai in the eye of the press, but for me he is just the film financer. Why should I bother myself about his professional credentials?” he bluntly counters.