Photographs by Manmeet Bhatti

Many times one simply needs the work. I’ve done plenty of one-dimensional roles, not out of choice. But when possible, I redefine a flat character, lend it shades, infuse exuberance if called for.

He reels back in recollection. Picture a shot being readied on location for Ramanand Sagar’s mid-’70s hit, Charas. Tom Alter, sharing the sets for the first time with Amjad Khan, is stunned; the late veteran actor suddenly starts frisking him, almost as security men do. The two haven’t met before. Overhearing Alter converse in chaste Hindi, Khan exclaims, "Nahi, main microphone dhoond raha hoon, yeh gora aise Hindi kaise bol sakta…?" (I’m looking for a microphone – how can this foreigner speak such good Hindi?)

Singling out this episode as unusually amusing, Alter admits to actually getting a bit weary of the ‘everyone’s so surprised’ reaction, throughout his working life here. For the American, son of Presbyterian missionary parents, who grew up loving the lofty landscape of the Mussoorie hills he was born amidst, 52 years ago, it scarcely seemed exceptional learning the local lingo so remarkably as to perfect a career of it in Hindi films and theatre. As a boy he savoured the sight of his father reading and writing impeccable Urdu, preaching from an Urdu Bible. "The north of the country was faithful to Hindustani then. At least 75 per cent of the language was peppered with Urdu, unlike the other way about, today," he rues, confessing to a fascination for speaking formal Hindi fluently at Woodstock School.

A windy morning finds Alter leafing through the Urdu-version Bible which occupies pride of place on one of several shelves lining the living room of his midtown Mumbai apartment. Not quite free of a bad bout of viral fever’s knockout effect, he emerges from the kitchen with tea he’s gallantly brewed. Wife Carol, a teacher at the American School, is away in the US where their son James, attends college; daughter Afshaan, studies in Mussoorie. Our beverage-and-biscuits done, he dips into the book with accomplished ease, handsomely ageing face wreathed in smiles as his fingers trace verses: "Yehi hai ibaadat, yehi deen-o-imaan/ Ki kaam aaye duniya mein insaan ke insaan – This is prayer, this is religion, this is truth/ That in this world we live to help each other." Quoting evocative couplets from the Song of Songs, translated Ghazal-ul-Ghazalat, he make you wonder how unfaltering shairi fits flawlessly with him, much after distant schooldays.

Fresh from Pune’s FTII (Film and Television Institute of India), Alter spent seven initial Mumbai years honing his Hindustani under the tutelage of the famed Ustad Jalib Sahib, an absolute authority on language, philosophy, culture and history. "He was a scholar in the truest sense," Alter enthuses. "I wish I’d continued learning under him but I became busy." Work began modestly, with the Hindi films, Mrig Trishna and Sahib Bahadur paving the way for the substance of Satyajit Ray’s Shatranj Ke Khiladi and Shyam Benegal’s Junoon alongside appearances in blockbusters Kranti, Charas, Ram Bharose, Des Pardes and Hum Kisise Kum Nahin. Latest is the offbeat avatar of a kidnapped Swedish ambassador in Havaayein, Ammtoj Mann’s searing take on Punjab, post-Bluestar.

Registering his stamp on celluloid (roles bitsy as co-piloting a ’copter with Amjad Khan notwithstanding), Alter in tandem pursued a rewarding theatrical innings, participating from 1979-1980 in critically acclaimed plays by Motley, with Naseeruddin Shah and Benjamin Gilani. Especially exciting have been the group’s staging of Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, Albee’s Zoo Story, Pinter’s The Dumb Waiter and Shaw’s Arms and the Man. Outside the Motley banner he’s made an impact in Mister Behram, Larins Sahib, Tughlaq, Taming of the Shrew and Tom and Viv where he played T.S. Eliot. More recently, Alter had a pivotal part in the initial run of Vikram Kapadia’s Black with Equal and essays the lead in Shivani Tibrewala’s Whatever You Say.

Arc lights flash instant association with Alter but sports, writing and compering, are equally nurtured passions. "I thrived on games in school and college. Not fit to end up an athlete, I did next best, coaching cricket." His crisp columns on sport have enthralled readers of popular newspapers and journals to which he contributed for ten long years. Particularly close to Sportsweek’s 1980s-initiated series of in-depth personal interviews with ‘non-cricket’ aces, he covered runners, swimmers, badminton players et al. Assigned extensive colour pages, with a centrespread splashing exclusive photographs, the idea clicked. "Hats off to Tariq Ansari for backing something like this, unheard of at the time," Alter drawls slightly. "When I featured P. T. Usha in Sportsweek, declaring hers the most beautiful legs ever – they really are, watch her in action running – the response was ‘Yes, wow’. We put her hair down, dabbed on a dash of make-up, she looked so gorgeous!"

Writing must be a talent inherently bubbling in the family gene pool. One cousin is the brilliant Stephen Alter who has co-scripted a film Zafar Hai is making, which may rank among Madhuri Dixit’s major comeback ventures. On his mother’s side, Sue Miller ruled The New York Times bestseller list with her introductory novel, The Good Mother. His father, sister and uncles also readily put pen to paper. If Alter’s own book, co-authored with Ayaz Memon, The Best in the World, described India’s ten whopper World Cup matches up to 1999 when it was published, Rerun at Rialto is rendered in a different, romantic, mystery genre. Not wholly autobiographical save for its Mussoorie backdrop of the beloved paths and pagdandis of his childhood, Rerun is replete with references to Alter’s idols…the Beatles, Bob Dylan, Dilip Kumar and Rajesh Khanna to Paul Newman ("an actor I’ve always admired") and Peter O’Toole in Lawrence Of Arabia ("my all-time favourite film"). His favourite piece of dialogue from the same film: ‘People who speak lies at least know where the truth is; people who speak half-truths have forgotten where they put it.’

Early enough on encountering him, you figure honesty’s a priority even as he survives in an industry rife with rumour and artifice. Ask what governs his choice of roles, he replies with disarming candour, "Many times one simply needs the work. I’ve done plenty of one-dimensional roles, not out of choice. But when possible, I redefine a flat character, lend it shades and infuse exuberance if called for. Bound script, good director and all, an actor needs to fill in the blanks himself."

Compering is an activity, Alter reveals, to ‘hugely enjoy’. A distinguished master of ceremonies, he credits the feeling to "a comfortable gift of the gab giving me tremendous control of an interactive, live audience". Appalled, though, at most shows reduced to predictably meaningless banter, he bemoans ‘idiotic scripts loaded with corny clichés’. Film award nights, television programmes or musical revues, in his sound opinion, "Good compering must mould itself to the specific situation." The recently celebrated Bandra cultural festival in Mumbai, saw Alter read verses penned by poets Dom Moraes, Nissim Ezekiel, Eunice de Souza, Saleem Peeradina and Jeet Thayil.

An intriguing ‘MCC’ logo smartly rims his T-shirt pocket. Could it be ‘M’ for Marylebone or Mumbai? Forget either, this denotes the ‘Match-cut’ Cricket Club – movie editing’s technical term suggesting a team drawn from the film frat. This eleven, of which our actor is an enthusiast, comprises Naseeruddin Shah, Satish Shah, Vishal Bhardwaj, Robin Bhatt, A.K. Bir and Ashok Ghai among others (ex-members Aamir Khan and Nana Patekar). Tennis buff to boot, Alter, who once swung a racquet regularly with filmmaker, Gulzar at Bandra Gymkhana, managed to catch up with the game in Switzerland on a month’s shoot for director, Rajiv Rai’s Asambhav.

Plays, ongoing or under rehearsal, include Sayeed Alam’s Maulana Azad, besides Bhisham Sahni’s Hanush, Quasar Padamsee’s Selections from Shakespeare, Mallika Prasad’s production of Tennessee Williams’ Summer and Smoke. With Shiv Kumar Subrahmanyam is the revival of The Blood Knot by Athol Fugard. Trisanga, conceived by Alter, eclectically fuses Urdu poetry, English drama, Mahabharata recitations and Hindustani music. On the film front, there’s Aitbaar casting him as Dr Freddie Balsara (excuse the name ringing a musical bell), Sanjay Srivastava’s Silence Please…The Dressing Room, Suresh Revankar’s Pratishodh where he plays the pivotal part of a Portuguese army officer, Birsa Munda on the life of the tribal freedom fighter and Anshuman Rawat’s promising AOD (The Art of Dying), a Las Vegas-New York-Hollywood release at the Festival of Independent and International Films. Add to it all, ad campaigns he signs, Shakti Sagar’s television serial Hatim Tai and you realise it’s no wonder that, balancing shootings and performances often taking him out of town, Alter is left with little time to ink in the finishing touches to his third book, The Longest Race. He sounds enthused about this story about a young long-distance runner, disillusioned by the politics of sports and the harder lessons of life as he competes in the marathon.

Dividing precious time between Mumbai and Mussoorie, Alter interestingly harbours few Yankee yearnings. Lakeside trips to Birch Knoll, his family summer camp in north-eastern Maine, afford an occasional change from frequent visits to his tranquil Mussoorie home, Oakville. Otherwise, he’s content to stay on, cheering ‘the still fantastic spirit’ of the city of his adoption. "There’s no denying Mumbai…its amazing enterprise, adventure, freedom…can never be taken away."