In 2013, the little-known director Chaitanya announced the launch of a film titled Pawanism. It was meant to be a tribute to Pawan Kalyan, the youngest brother of Telugu cinema’s megastar-turned-politician Chiranjeevi. Pawanism, the director went on to elaborate, is “the collective adulation of crores of Pawan Kalyan fans ... (which) could set a new path for youngsters.” The film was not completed but it drew attention to the puzzle that is Pawanism, defined as a religion by some of his followers. With the launch of the Jana Sena Party (JSP), Pawan has institutionalised this ism, limited so far to t-shirts, stickers and tattoos sighted at screenings of the star’s films and IPL matches in Hyderabad.

Notwithstanding such hype, no one seems to know what Pawanism really is. As a blogger put it most unhelpfully, “It is a religion formed by Pawan fans and followed (by them). It is about his style, ideologies, creativity, etc.” Understandably, with stardom and glamour comes style. Pawan is one of Telugu cinema’s biggest stars, despite his modest tally of 19 films in as many years in the industry. He has delivered phenomenal hits such as Badri (2000), Kushi (2001), Jalsa (2008) and, more recently, Gabbar Singh (2012). One might even concede that Pawan is creative, albeit with a pinch of salt. Unlike Chiranjeevi, Pawan is not a particularly versatile actor. Most of his films are romantic action-comedies centred on an invincible hero. His only directorial venture, Johnny (2003), was an expensive flop. To his credit, however, he has tried his hand at choreography, action and even playback singing.

The most intriguing thing about Pawanism, though, is the ideology, or rather the absence of it (unless you take the logo, with the actor sporting a Che Guevera look, as a heavy hint). Having played an active role in the 2009 campaign for Chiranjeevi’s Praja Rajyam Party (PRP), Pawan is not a political novice. Yet, neither his ‘Congress hatao, Desh bachao’ slogan at the launch of JSP nor his open endorsement of Narendra Modi — which has earned him some detractors in the show business — add up to an ideology. The vagueness of the party’s website on the ideological front is disarming: “JSP’s ideology comes from this firm belief of Mr Pawan Kalyan that in public life one must stand by one’s convictions and not lose faith in them when the situations become tough.” What then do we make of Pawan and his ‘isms’?

Not easily accessible to the media (this author tried but failed to reach him), Pawan is prone to making news by other means and for actions unrelated to acting. He is definitely not Mr Nice Guy. On the contrary, he is Telugu cinema’s most controversial celebrity. Breaking traditional values, he is divorced and has children from two other relationships. He has been accused of temperamental behaviour in the past, including a punch or two aimed at media persons. A warrant was issued against him for an election speech in 2009, when he attacked several important Congress leaders and gave a call to “chase and hit them (Congressmen) till their loincloths fall.” Earlier this year, online forums were abuzz with speculations about his family’s role in abetting the suicide of a young Telugu actor.

While it’s too early to tell if Pawan’s political career will take off, there can be little doubt that his speeches will leave his opponents smarting and the crowds cheering. Pawan is a powerful orator. Even as he prepares to take on the Congress, whose campaign is being led by his older brother Chiranjeevi in Seemandhra, director Ram Gopal Varma revealed the worst-kept secret of the 2009 elections in Andhra Pradesh. Responding to Pawan’s speech at the launch of JSP, Varma tweeted: “Way Kalyan spoke, if 10 per cent Chiranjeevigaru spoke at Praja Rajyam launch... forget AP CM, forget Indian PM, he would have become American president (sic).”

From his movies, Pawan brings to the political platform the angry, albeit not-so-young man. Back in 2000, in Badri, he redefined anger on the Telugu screen. In his films, and those of other stars that followed, the hero’s anger has had no immediate cause: no dead father to avenge (like Amitabh Bachchan’s character in Zanjeer), no feudal oppressor to fight back (like in Chiranjeevi’s Khaidi)… Instead, anger now springs from an arrogant and defiant disposition. It is attitude in its purest form.

The anger that drives Pawanism is, first of all, a style statement. Second, not prompted by specific causes, it can be directed at any cause that comes in the way of youth with ‘attitude’. “I want answers,” demands Pawan’s character in Cameraman Gangatho Rambabu (2012), after thrashing goondas out to instigate a caste riot at a university campus. Offscreen too, he has now established a “party which questions” and an army that will fight for a “just and balanced society.” The entire enterprise will be powered by inciting and harnessing the anger of a generation of de-politicised, movie-crazy youth.

The moment is pregnant with possibilities and fraught with danger. Because anger is not just about being cool. Whether Pawanism is a productive force or merely an illusory emotion remains to be seen.

(sv srinivas is the author of MegastarPolitics as Performancesenior fellow at the Centre for the Study of CultureSocietyBangalore (CSCS))

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