A few weeks ago, a news item compared the famous TV/film actor Ali Rehman Khan with Hollywood’s Ryan Gosling. It surely was coincidental, as neither Ali nor Ryan would have believed it!

In any case, Ali Rehman Khan has already made it as a film and TV actor and endorses various brands, and such a comparison won’t do him any good now.

As a nation, we tend to have a fixation with celebrities abroad and rate our stars high only if they resemble those in Bollywood or Hollywood. Over the years, Pakistani media has turned quite a few artists into doppelgängers, which has either ‘made’ or ‘faded’ them.

Overcoming its early teething period, the Pakistan film industry was on its feet by the mid-50s, and we were content with the dashing Santosh Kumar and Sudhir leading the way, supported by leading ladies such as Sabiha Khanum and Musarrat Nazir.

We tend to be fixated by Bollywood or Hollywood stars and, over the years, Pakistani media has pitched quite a few artists as their doppelgängers…

It was the Jaal movement of 1954 that limited the release of Bollywood flicks, and began the period when Pakistani films ruled the screens without competition. Darpan, Aslam Pervaiz, Habib and Ejaz were the products of that era. However, Pakistanis still found something lacking and ‘romanticised’ the attractiveness of Madhubala, the clumsiness of Raj Kapoor and the tragic-ness of Dilip Kumar.

Keeping in mind her uncanny resemblance to Madhubala, Yasmin was launched as a leading lady in the Punjabi film Jabroo (1956). Yasmin had made her debut in A.R. Kardar’s Dillagi (1949) in Bombay, came to Pakistan and was cast in a side role in the Saadat Hasan Manto-penned Beli (1950). Her voice and physique were not a patch on Madhubala’s, but she was good at doing tragic scenes. Yasmin later also acted in the film Murad (1957), which had a new actor, Syed Kemal, a carbon-copy of Raj Kapoor.

Syed Kemal claimed to have worked with the former in a movie, and boasted of several meetings with the eternal showman. By starting with the song ‘O Meri Nargis Aaa Ja’ in his debut film Thandi Sarrak (1957), Kemal remained an R.K. clone for life, and ventured into production the same way ‘Raj’ did.

Ratan Kumar (real name: Syed Nazir Ali Rizvi), a former child actor-turned-lead, also shared screen space with Raj Kapoor in Bombay before migrating to Pakistan. In his adult career, he also tried to copy Raj Kapoor’s mannerisms from his famous films. Sadly, Ratan failed to make it big, despite possessing all the ingredients of a ‘Kapoor’.

The search for a Dilip Kumar clone was on the cards as Pakistan entered the ’60s. Hanif was cast as a lead in Azaadi Ya Maut (1966), but could not click with the audience. Tahir Khan, also a lookalike, was launched with Waqt Ki Pukaar (1967), but was found wanting as well. The Dilip clone frame was bound for an aspiring and good-looking singer Nazir Baig, who was cast as a lead in the East Pakistan blockbuster Chakori (1967).

The director made him do a ‘Yusuf’ with the character, and named him Nadeem. Initially, Nadeem performed in a style widely associated with Dilip Kumar, an illiterate village bumpkin in many films, but he shed that image by creating a style of his own. Nadeem became a superstar and the best leading man in Pakistani films, and still appears occasionally in TV dramas and commercials.

The ’70s saw TV becoming an integral part of drawing rooms of the elite. The need of the hour was a chocolate hero, and the charming Shakeel filled it. A misfit in films, Shakeel was hailed as the doppelgänger of Hollywood star Tony Curtis, an image that stuck with him up until the ’80s. Shakeel graduated to better roles and all his characters remain close to the viewers’ hearts.

By the late ’70s, Pakistan cinema had started its downslide with Gen Ziaul Haq in power. The rise of low-budget plagiarism and violence in Punjabi movies forced many to turn to Indian movies, and the VCR became a necessity for TV sets at homes. Video cassettes were in demand and pirated Indian movies for rentals at as low as 10 rupees made many skip the theatre experience.

Amitabh Bachchan was the quintessential angry young man of the 1976-82 era and was worshipped thus in the Subcontinent. Only his clone could have snapped the Pakistani nation out of his spell, the reasoning went, and thus entered Izhar Qazi in Fatima Surraiya Bajiya’s Ana (1984).

Blessed with an above-average height and good looks, this attractive officer of the Pakistan Steel Mills had the looks to adapt Bachchan’s style to perfection. Roles were written especially for him and he certainly didn’t disappoint. Izhar Qazi not only appeared on TV but also transitioned into movies.

The advent of the Khans (Amir, Salman, Shah Rukh) in the ’90s changed the dynamics of Pakistani films and the television industry. SRK won the race to become the most copied among the Khans. Suddenly SRK was everywhere, with actors Yasir Nawaz (TV), Adnan Jeelani (TV), Sahir Lodhi (TV host) and Arbaaz Khan (film) copying his style.

Resemblance to action stars Salman Khan and Akshay Kumar helped launch the careers of Pakistani film stars Moammar Rana and Shamoon Abbasi, who went on to carve a niche for themselves. Moammar Rana danced and fought his way easily as a poor man’s copy of the Box Office king, while Shamoon concentrated on his skills and emerged as an actor who could fit into the skin of any character that was offered to him.

The only instance of a Hollywood bug infecting a local actor in the ’90s was in the case of Sylvester Stallone (of Rocky and Rambo fame). Afzal Khan had the looks of Sylvester Stallone but director Shakir Uzair created the parodic character of the sweeper Jan Rambo in his hit PTV Islamabad centre series Guest House.

Jan Rambo became famous and the name became associated as Afzal Khan’s own, even to this very day. He may not have succeeded as a lead in films but is still working, recently being praised for voicing the character of the beloved Mangoo in The Donkey King.

At the turn of the century, Hrithik Roshan threatened to dethrone the Khans. Kaho Naa Pyar Hai (2000) was a blockbuster hit and muscles and dance became essential for all Bollywood leading men. Shehryar Munawar came forth as the Hrithik doppelgänger in Pakistani dramas and films by copying the acting style of the Greek god, who still shows no signs of ageing.

Koi Mil Gaya’s (2003) Rohit has also been adapted many times by Shehryar Munawar, and it has taken him a considerable amount of time to come out of the shadows of the ‘muscle man’, and ultimately into his own as a film and TV actor.

Keen observers believe that Osman Khalid Butt is closer to being a doppelgänger of Hollywood star Orlando Bloom than Shehryar to Hrithik. A few years ago, Bilal Ashraf attempted a shirtless dance in his debut film Superstar, which took the nation by storm. It was a step-by-step copy of Ranveer Singh’s Tattad Tattad from Ram-Leela.

Television viewers have also witnessed their fair share of Madhuri Dixits and Anil Kapoors from both Peshawar and Karachi television centres during the ’90s. The obsession did not end here.

The Bollywood bug also managed to enter the private news broadcast media, as news anchors who had some resemblance with Bollywood actors gained great popularity. Absa Komal, originally with Geo News and now with Dawn News, and Adil Abbasi, formerly associated with ARY, are still considered the doppelgängers of Katrina Kaif and Ranbir Kapoor.

Luckily, a refreshing change is being witnessed these days. The love and praise our very own superstars Mahira Khan and Fawad Khan get from across the border appears to have broken the spell for Pakistanis in awe of Bollywood superstars.

Hopefully this is a sign of a new dawn on the horizon, where it’s not necessary to look like an existing celebrity to make it big.

Published in Dawn, ICON, July 7th, 2024