I showed up in The Guardian.
Less than a month later came the Tamil film Endhiran, starring Rajinikanth. Now 60, Rajinikanth is that rare star who doesn’t mind appearing in public as the ageing, balding man he really is. His fans couldn’t care less, so long as his on-screen persona continues to be what playwright and columnist Anuvab Pal calls a mix of “Clint Eastwood, Sylvester Stallone, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Charles Bronson and the A-Team, but bigger”: he lights cigarettes with his gun, handles cobras with his bare hands, and hangs out with dancing, smoking midgets.
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