Thanks for the laughs

Being a comedian is far from being funny. After a while you cease to be a person. Rather, you are the thing that is supposed to make the dreariness disappear, a state of mind that sees the funny side of life. Deven Verma didn’t fall into any such category and yet endeared himself across generations of fans as a comic par excellence. Best known for his comic roles that included Gulzar’s Angoor (1982), arguably one of Hindi cinema’s best comedies, Verma went beyond being a mere comedian. His death has robbed Hindi cinema of one of its most lovable character artists.

Verma started out at a time when giants such as Johnny Walker, Mehmood, I.S. Johar, Rajendra Nath and Kishore Kumar dominated comedy. The other end of the spectrum had Agha, Mukri, Jagdeep, Dhumal, Asit Sen and Mohan Choti, among others. Comedy in Bollywood then was either a sensible track accompanying the main story or there were out and out comedy films which were usually star vehicles, such as Johar-Mehmood in Goa (1965). Most comedians fell into either category, all except Deven Verma.

Verma wasn’t as wildly successful as Mehmood, the czar of comedy who could force films to be centered around him, or Johnny Walker, whose absence would be unimaginable in a Guru Dutt film. At the same time, Verma wasn’t a Rajendra Nath, a regular fixture in Dev Anand or Shammi Kapoor films, or a Mukri or an Agha or a Dhumal either — comedians who were meant to be silly and were. He didn’t slip over banana peels, nor did he resort to over-the-top getups. By the 1970s, Deven Verma was a recognisable face because he had made his mark as a character actor who could easily flit between playing a mental asylum patient in Khamoshi (1970), and the hero’s smart friend in Buddha Mil Gaya (1971).

Comedians in popular Hindi cinema are often like jigsaw puzzle pieces — not of much use on their own, but will leave a picture incomplete if missing. And most are often reduced to creating a companionship with a leading star and it’s that jugalbandi’s success which begets more assignments. Verma’s unhurried effortlessness, of matching pace with Sanjeev Kumar in Angoor, a film that fetched him his third Best Comedian Filmfare award. This performance continues to be a hallmark in Hindi cinema and easily ranks alongside that of Ravi Baswani in Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron (1983).

After I.S. Johar and Mehmood, Verma was the only comedian who managed to direct on more than one occasion. Verma’s second outing as director, Besharam (1978), featured the biggest star of the time, Amitabh Bachchan.

Like most good character actors, Verma found it difficult to adjust to the changes that popular Hindi cinema underwent in the 1980s. Although he was a regular feature in many memorable films of the time, sometimes even playing himself (Golmaal), Verma wasn’t the right fit for the loud and crass comedy of the period. He gave the whole southern remake genre a miss, but still managed to do some good roles — Noor-E- Chashmis in Thodi si Bewafai (1980), Dara in Khatta Meetha (1981), Vidyarthi in Silsila (1981), and Pareshaan Mama in Saaheb (1985).

For a brief period Verma stuck a good onscreen partnership with Mithun Chakraborty, whom he directed in Dana Paani (1989), and by the 1990s Verma was considered a good luck charm by Shah Rukh Khan. The then upcoming star did five films with Verma — Deewana (1992), Chamatkar (1992), King Uncle (1993), Ram Jaane (1995) and Dil To Pagal Hai (1997).

Verma also acted with the other two Khans — Salman and Aamir — in Andaz Apna Apna (1994). Playing Aamir Khan’s father, Verma introduced himself to a new generation of fans who still break into a smile every time they think of Amar’s (Aamir Khan) hapless father who is taken for a ride by his smooth-talking conman of a son.

Legend has it that Verma wasn’t too keen to play the bit role but got intrigued once he heard Aamir Khan’s name and agreed when he got to know that Raj Kumar Santoshi would be directing the film. Verma wasn’t a fan of Santoshi’s work, but had great respect for the filmmaker’s father, P.L. Santoshi, one of Verma’s first directors.

Deven Verma’s greatness stemmed from playing simple characters with simplicity, and yet managing to make them memorable. He was never loud, he never grabbed the camera, was never desperate to make us laugh. And yet his entry always brought a smile.

Gautam Chintamani is an award-winning Indian writer/filmmaker