Relative value: Love, sex & no dhoka
Sapna (34) and Kanti Shah (he won’t tell)
King and queen of smut, Kanti Shah and Sapna recount a partnership that spans 17 years and 65 films.
For most, Kanti Shah’s films summarise lowbudget titillation on celluloid. His upcoming release, OK is a take on Aamir Khan’s P.K. When the first look of Khan’s December release went viral, it didn’t miss Shah’s eye. “When I saw Aamir on a railway track, hiding his privates behind a messenger bag, I thought, why can’t my actress do this?” says the writer-directorproducer of B-grade films.
But Shah’s fast food filmmaking style was once closer to slow cooking. Three months of script reading with writers and cast members was followed by getting music directors to translate the spirit of the film in tune, and even scouting for suitable locations. This was back in the 1990s when he directed his magnum opus, Gunda (1998). The Mithun Chakraborty-starrer acquired cult status for its unintentionally comic dialogue, over-the-top action and uber-obscenity. It also marked the debut of an 18-yearold newcomer from Nashik, who’d become his partner.
Shah begins narrating the story and stops abruptly, blaming his failing memory, when he is prompted by Sapna. “Kanti had just wrapped up Dharmendra-Govinda-starrer, Loha. This was in 1997. I was visiting Mumbai after my 12th board exams. He was leaving from a meeting in Adarsh Nagar, when he spotted me and invited me over for a drink the same evening,” she says, when Kanti interrupts, “She was very fresh at the time.”
What followed was what Sapna describes as, “dono ka attraction ho gaya tha” and before she knew it, with no formal training in acting, Sapna was making her debut as Chakraborty’s sister in Gunda. “She is a one-take artist, and since she was also a friend, I had to cast her,” says Shah, who went on to sign her for revenge horror drama, Maut (1998), Munnibai (1999) opposite Dharmendra, and Daku Ram Kali (1999), all within a year’s time. “I wasn’t afraid of making mistakes. It was an inclusive work atmosphere. Even if I faltered, Kanti would correct me,” says Sapna, who acted as producer on several of his projects.
The first four years of their association saw them make 30 films. Most of these either paid a tribute to classics (Duplicate Sholay, Aag Ke Sholay, Jung Ke Sholay) or expanded on the Tarzan sub-genre (Jungle Ka Sher, Jungle Ki Sherni, Badla Sherni Ka). And then there were the sex-horror films.
Today, their cinematic partnership is 65-films-old and it’s safe to say that Sapna is Shah’s ultimate muse. He even credits her for his films’ success, which he classifies in the following genres — action, horror and “bold”. Although Sapna’s filmography clocks 275 across nine languages, she feels her best work is evident in Shah’s films. “I did my own stunts in several of them. I remember riding two horses at once, with no support, in Daku Ramkali, and delivering a fiveminute monologue while lifting a corpse over my head.” For the feat, she earned the moniker Lady Amitabh Bachchan and several scars under her elbow which she considers “medals”.
Shah, who has made over 150 films, says his career choice was just as accidental as Sapna’s. “After my 10th exams, I did odd jobs. I worked in a garage and sold pillows sourced from Ulhasnagar outside Santacruz station.” His stint in films began in the early ’80s as production assistant, thanks to friend, Raghunath Singh. Working his way up helped him learn all aspects of the craft, which means he is a one-man army today who churns what he calls “films that are in plus” or profitable for investors. North and South India are big markets, and breaking even isn’t a challenge because his budget hovers between thirty lakh (“bold”) to fifty lakh (action). “Zyada paisa lagake mujhe kaunsa medal milne wala hai?” he jokes.
At this point, Sapna feels the need to inform us about Shah’s achievements, “He’s even made Sudha Chandran ride a horse in Phoolan Hasina Ramkali,” she says with pride, referring to the actor who challenged her physical disability to make a career in dance and cinema.
But becoming veterans in their niche has its downside too. Sapna fishes out her cell phone to show us a poster of Ek Ek Ka Kaat Doongi. While the poster carries Shah’s name and features Sapna clutching on to a bloodsmeared sword, the two have nothing to do with the film. “It takes five minutes to sit in a cyber café and copypaste my face on another woman’s body. That’s what they’ve done,” she rues. But Shah isn’t bothered by amateur tactics. After all, he has often been credited as director for films he never made. “If someone wants to use my name to sell their film, let them,” he says with charismatic nonchalance.
Despite their glorious gemeinschaft in tinsel town, the couple hasn’t worked together since MMS Kand (2012). “She’s become big (sic); I can’t afford her,” he says with mock resignation, before Sapna interrupts him. “Main moti ho gayi hoon… something Kanti believed would never happen.” Then she flashes that coquettish smile.
King and queen of smut, Kanti Shah and Sapna recount a partnership that spans 17 years and 65 films.
For most, Kanti Shah’s films summarise lowbudget titillation on celluloid. His upcoming release, OK is a take on Aamir Khan’s P.K. When the first look of Khan’s December release went viral, it didn’t miss Shah’s eye. “When I saw Aamir on a railway track, hiding his privates behind a messenger bag, I thought, why can’t my actress do this?” says the writer-directorproducer of B-grade films.
Instantly, a shoot was organised; the bag replaced by a camera to conceal her modesty. Without a story in mind, Shah registered the title and shared the poster online. The response, he calls, phenomenal. “Distributors were calling me within days, asking when I’d start work on the film,” says the director, whose peculiar brand of filmmaking begins with fixing the title before the script. With names like Jungle Ki Sherni, Pyaasa Haiwan and Qatil Chudail, his craft is obvious. “Mujhe maal do, and I’ll make a film. To write a story takes only five days,” he shrugs when we meet him a suburban coffee shop. The last title that he registered a few days before this meeting, is Policewali, inspired by a photoshoot he did with a model dressed as a police officer, waistdown. She was missing the shirt.
But Shah’s fast food filmmaking style was once closer to slow cooking. Three months of script reading with writers and cast members was followed by getting music directors to translate the spirit of the film in tune, and even scouting for suitable locations. This was back in the 1990s when he directed his magnum opus, Gunda (1998). The Mithun Chakraborty-starrer acquired cult status for its unintentionally comic dialogue, over-the-top action and uber-obscenity. It also marked the debut of an 18-yearold newcomer from Nashik, who’d become his partner.
Shah begins narrating the story and stops abruptly, blaming his failing memory, when he is prompted by Sapna. “Kanti had just wrapped up Dharmendra-Govinda-starrer, Loha. This was in 1997. I was visiting Mumbai after my 12th board exams. He was leaving from a meeting in Adarsh Nagar, when he spotted me and invited me over for a drink the same evening,” she says, when Kanti interrupts, “She was very fresh at the time.”
What followed was what Sapna describes as, “dono ka attraction ho gaya tha” and before she knew it, with no formal training in acting, Sapna was making her debut as Chakraborty’s sister in Gunda. “She is a one-take artist, and since she was also a friend, I had to cast her,” says Shah, who went on to sign her for revenge horror drama, Maut (1998), Munnibai (1999) opposite Dharmendra, and Daku Ram Kali (1999), all within a year’s time. “I wasn’t afraid of making mistakes. It was an inclusive work atmosphere. Even if I faltered, Kanti would correct me,” says Sapna, who acted as producer on several of his projects.
The first four years of their association saw them make 30 films. Most of these either paid a tribute to classics (Duplicate Sholay, Aag Ke Sholay, Jung Ke Sholay) or expanded on the Tarzan sub-genre (Jungle Ka Sher, Jungle Ki Sherni, Badla Sherni Ka). And then there were the sex-horror films.
Today, their cinematic partnership is 65-films-old and it’s safe to say that Sapna is Shah’s ultimate muse. He even credits her for his films’ success, which he classifies in the following genres — action, horror and “bold”. Although Sapna’s filmography clocks 275 across nine languages, she feels her best work is evident in Shah’s films. “I did my own stunts in several of them. I remember riding two horses at once, with no support, in Daku Ramkali, and delivering a fiveminute monologue while lifting a corpse over my head.” For the feat, she earned the moniker Lady Amitabh Bachchan and several scars under her elbow which she considers “medals”.
Shah, who has made over 150 films, says his career choice was just as accidental as Sapna’s. “After my 10th exams, I did odd jobs. I worked in a garage and sold pillows sourced from Ulhasnagar outside Santacruz station.” His stint in films began in the early ’80s as production assistant, thanks to friend, Raghunath Singh. Working his way up helped him learn all aspects of the craft, which means he is a one-man army today who churns what he calls “films that are in plus” or profitable for investors. North and South India are big markets, and breaking even isn’t a challenge because his budget hovers between thirty lakh (“bold”) to fifty lakh (action). “Zyada paisa lagake mujhe kaunsa medal milne wala hai?” he jokes.
At this point, Sapna feels the need to inform us about Shah’s achievements, “He’s even made Sudha Chandran ride a horse in Phoolan Hasina Ramkali,” she says with pride, referring to the actor who challenged her physical disability to make a career in dance and cinema.
But becoming veterans in their niche has its downside too. Sapna fishes out her cell phone to show us a poster of Ek Ek Ka Kaat Doongi. While the poster carries Shah’s name and features Sapna clutching on to a bloodsmeared sword, the two have nothing to do with the film. “It takes five minutes to sit in a cyber café and copypaste my face on another woman’s body. That’s what they’ve done,” she rues. But Shah isn’t bothered by amateur tactics. After all, he has often been credited as director for films he never made. “If someone wants to use my name to sell their film, let them,” he says with charismatic nonchalance.
Despite their glorious gemeinschaft in tinsel town, the couple hasn’t worked together since MMS Kand (2012). “She’s become big (sic); I can’t afford her,” he says with mock resignation, before Sapna interrupts him. “Main moti ho gayi hoon… something Kanti believed would never happen.” Then she flashes that coquettish smile.
