Khalid Mohamed, without being judgmental, reports on the love-hate relationship of the celebrities and the paparazzi – a belated phenomenon in Bollywood compared to global standards. And clear signs are that the ‘intrusion’ is here to stay, and develop in bizarre forms with the advance of visual technology.

Loathe them, hate them, or be neutral about them. By global standards, Bollywood’s paparazzi are Johnnies-come-lately. The ‘p’ word became a sore point here way after it was first coined in Italy in 1960.

Paparazzi was synonymous with aggressive photographers who hound celebrities, to click photos in any which way to sell to media outlets. Its singular form is paparazzo, originating from the Italian film auteur Federico Fellini’s La Dolce Vita (1960).

According to Fellini, the name was from an opera libretto, sounding “like a buzzing insect, hovering, darting, stinging.” Next year, Time magazine popularised the term in a feature comparing them to "a ravenous wolf pack".

However, Fellini's co-writer Ennio Flaiano asserted that the name was borrowed from George Gissing's book By the Ionian Sea.

By all accounts, there is no legal charge of “death caused by paparazzi”. Yet, there was that tragic instance on August 31, 1997, in Paris: Princess Diana, partner Dodi Fayed, and their chauffeur Henri Paul were killed in a car crash in the Pont de L’ Alma tunnel while evading a posse of paparazzi. An inquest didn’t amount to charging any of the photographers with guilt, and they were let off with a minor fine. Reason: forensic experts decreed that the chauffeur was drunk and on prescribed medication.

Subsequently, in 2013, 29-year-old freelance cameraman Chris Guerra was struck fatally by a car in Los Angeles while he was chasing pop singer Justin Bieber, who wasn’t in the car then.

And you just have to see Sweet Smell of Success (1957), a satirical take on the Hollywood brand of intrusion as depicted by an upcoming publicity agent portrayed by Tony Curtis, modelled on the real-life syndicated gossip columnist and radio broadcaster Walter Winchell, into the public lives of celebrities.

Real-life instances of tabloid photo-journalists flying in helicopters to click lurid images of the liaison between Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton during the shoot of Cleopatra in Italy circa 1961, are still embedded in public memory. 

Bollywood’s Early Gossip Journalism

I’ve cited just a few instances to point out that the paparazzi ‘culture’ is relatively a new bugbear here. Around the 1950s and ‘60s, the Indian press by comparison were like teddy bears at a Powai Lake picnic. Of course, in print Baburao Patel, the dreaded editor and owner of Mother India magazine, would be rude to the point of defamation. His pet phrase in film reviews would be “suitable for watching only by dacoits, thieves, cheaters and anti-social elements.”

Journalist Krishna wrote a column in Rusi Karanjia’s Blitz about who’s bedding whom, often unnamed, even being assaulted grievously by Dharmendra for his remarks on Hema Malini. Not to be outdone, its rival tabloid, Current, edited by D.F. Karaka, ran a Page 3 packed with the ‘frolics’ of the glitterati, besides scooping the hush-hush bigamous marriage of Dilip Kumar with Asma Rehman, which lasted all of two years (1981-1983).

With the instantaneous high circulation gained by Stardust, founded in 1971 by Nari Hira, and edited by Shobha Rajadhyaksha, its opening Neeta’s Natter pages of spicy titbits, could only be rivalled by Devyani Chaubal’s Frankly Speaking column in the otherwise staid Star & Style, edited by Gulshan Ewing. Devyani Chaubal, the high priestess of gup shup, typing away furiously on a Remington, unearthed the most damning secrets of her two favourites, Rajesh Khanna and Raj Kapoor. Defamation lawsuits, like the one sent by Mumtaz to Stardust, came to nought.

Readers loved to be privy to ‘dirt’, leading Amitabh Bachchan to ban the press for five years. Strangely, he denies that and claims it was the press who banned him.

The Rise of Bollywood Paparazzi

Whenever Hollywood has sneezed, Bollywood has caught a common cold, goes a creaky old adage. Only in this case, the cold – or virus – has been an extra-belated one. The full-blown Bollywood paparazzi—aks paps -- crashed into the Bollywood scene, no sanctions required, on the cusp of the new millennium, ballooning to giddy heights by 2002.

Be it features in the local newspapers or a probe by BBC, there has been a consensus that the paparazzi culture, in its unstoppable growth, was ‘introduced’ in B-town during the mid-2000s by Yogen Shah, a mild-mannered lensman who would once visit magazine offices to vend images of B-town events like film mahurats and silver jubilee celebrations, and consecutively by a relative newcomer, the savvy Viral Bhayani, so far the champ of ‘exclusive’ revelations.

Celebrity sightings at restaurants, gyms, airports, romancing supposedly clandestinely in Ibiza, fashion show goof-ups, and much more titillating content, became an everyday component of the digitally ‘spotted’ ecosystem. Unlike the hostile nature of the global paps, in Bollywood frequently it turned into a mutually beneficial relationship with A-list Bollywood actors, their publicity teams tipping off the paps in order to manage visibility.

Newcomers, still to establish their career, promoted themselves on Instagram by posting their paid-for images at photo-sessions with an accent on high glamour. Once, a newbie reached her or his breakthrough, the paps chased them.

Celebrity Reactions to Intrusion

To go unrecognised is the prime fear, after all, of every celebrity on earth. For instance, when Alia Bhatt, Varun Dhawan, and Sidharth Malhotra were unknown before the success of their debut-making Student of the Year (2012), they weren’t on the agenda of the click-baiters; now, of course, it’s another story. Alia Bhatt will threaten to lodge a police complaint, or Anushka Sharma will be incensed on being photographed without a go-ahead, with Virat Kohli and their child. Exacerbating the scene, are occasions like Pulkit Samrat engaging in a slug-out with the ‘nosey-Parkers’.

The power quartet of the snooping squad is today said to be formed of Shah, Bhayani, Varinder Chawla, son of veteran photographer R.T. Chawla, and Manav Manglani. Each one of them has enviable online followings. Moreover, they have recruited a phalanx of photographers including young women, who, for want of any other options, have become celebrity stalkers – with uncertain working hours, interminable waits to seize a saleable celebrity moment, besides uncertainty about how their health and meals will be affected, especially during the months of scalding summers and unpredictable monsoons.

According to a report in News Laundry, “Each paparazzi network has its own WhatsApp group, which notifies members once a celebrity is slated to arrive somewhere. The delegated photographers set out for the uphill task of capturing the celebrity in a window of a few seconds amid crowds of fans and other photographers.”

Photographer Arbaaz Sikka is quoted as saying that he was a paparazzo from 2015 to 2016 but gave up since, “It’s difficult to get a proper shot, given the crowds around the celeb,” he said, adding, “The wait is too long. You also have to take care of your camera and other heavy equipment. If something happens, you have to compensate for the loss out of your pocket.”

Privacy, Ethics and The Future

It is emphasised that there are laws, including YouTube’s community guidelines, which penalise transgressions. In addition, in 2017, the Supreme Court in one of its rulings called the right to privacy implicit in Article 21.

The pap community could lose their livelihoods if rules are ignored. According to Bhayani, whenever objections have been raised, the ‘offensive’ images have been removed. Clearly, it’s one of those classic Catch-22 situations then: if they do or don’t, they’re damned.

To view the ‘situationship’ from the perspective of the ‘victims’, celebrities have their individualistic policy on the intrusion. Neither Kareena Kapoor nor Saif Ali Khan could prevent their toddler son, Taimur, from becoming a sensation. Curious as a child, he would often smile and wave tentatively at the paps. Right away, toy shops sold posters and soft Taimur dolls, a craze which ended mercifully when his younger brother Jeh, wasn’t as spontaneously cooperative.

The ever-publicity-conscious Rekha will put on a smile and say a comforting word or two before sashaying away in her stylish ensemble of the day.

Of the entire Bollywood constellation, Neetu Singh’s approach has been the most balanced one. Understanding that it’s their job, she apportions the paps the profiles they want to capture her from, thanks them, and leaves as courteously as she can.

Seasoned female actors – Madhuri Dixit, Deepika Padukone and Kangana Ranaut (mostly), Priyanka Chopra, Vidya Balan, Sushmita Sen, Rani Mukerji, Urmila Matondkar, and Divya Dutta – maintain a professional stance, this far and no further, okay guys? Kajol, when she is accompanied by her children, will breathe fire, scaring the usually blasé paps. Malaika Arora, depending on her mood or her mode of dress at a point of time, will either hurry away or halt for a nano-minute.

The so-called nepo babies are beyond comprehension though: Ananya Panday, Janhvi Kapoor, Sara Ali Khan would all go ‘cheese’ once, but now seem to have exhausted their ‘tolerance’ limits. And what do you say about newbie Rashmika Mandanna, who once pulled over a child bystander for a selfie, giving the startled ‘wolves’ a rare opportunity for a ‘cute’ click, not that it went viral.

Curiously, the male actors appear to have acknowledged that there is no escaping the exposure – be it shot on high-end SLR cameras or smartphones. Hence Amitabh Bachchan, Shah Rukh Khan, Aamir Khan, and Hrithik Roshan have come to accept the gherao as an occupational hazard. Vis-à-vis Salman Khan, it depends on the time of day and mood swing.

Sunny Deol was understandably livid when his family gathered by the side of his father at Breach Candy, requested privacy. Perhaps one of the most serious breaches of misconduct was when a subordinate hospital employee recorded a video of Dharmendra in the throes of pain. Fortuitously, the video didn’t reach far but the damage was done.

The point I’m getting at is that the paparazzi are here to stay, they cannot be wished away. Neither can you be supportive nor condemnatory about the growing tribe.

Be that as it may, the extremity of insults which were hurled by Jaya Bachchan in an interview with Barkha Dutt, was an avoidable display of rancour in public. Calling the paps out for their ‘dirty drainpipe trousers’ not only smacked of a sense of class superiority but was unintentionally funny.

Ms Bachchan, from whatever I know of her, isn’t like that at all. For instance, during the shoot of Fiza (2000), she would interact cheerfully with the junior-most assistant directors and light boys, going to the extent of funding one of their air tickets to London and back. Maybe something snapped within her when the paps became too voluminous in number to bear.

There was some talk among the paparazzi to boycott her, but nope, you can’t expect solidarity in a beyond-disorganised film industry at its roots.

The beat goes on then, the flashbulbs keep popping, and smartphones are pointed all over for top to low-angle shots. At a modest guesstimate, there are 120 active paparazzi presently, and as the demand increases from an online viewership, so will the number.  

Of late, the arrival of AI has made matters worse, bizarre and derogatory memes flood the reels. Social influencer Analee Cerejo, who operates under the sobriquet of The Chic Shopper, has become famously notorious for the hilarious though malicious mimicry of Jaya Bachchan.

That’s just one case in point. No one is spared. After all, that’s the cardinal rule of the film world: The show must never go on.

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