Irrfan Khan, a truly one-of-a-kind actor passed away yesterday. He was mostly known for Bollywood movies, but came over to America later in his acting career and certainly made an impact on me. Off the top of my head, I can only think of three movies that I remember seeing him in, but in each one there is an engraving into my memory that would be impossible to forget. The first was “Life of Pi”, the second, “Slumdog Millionaire” and the third (but the first movie I saw him in) was “the Namesake.” I believe in “Life of Pi” he plays the adult version of Pi, the narrator and the protagonist. In “Slumdog” he plays the officer in charge of holding Jamal before he answers the million dollar question. And in “the Namesake” he plays Ashoke, the husband matched with a wife, before they leave India to start a life anew with children of their own in America. Now, truth be told, Tabu, who plays Ashima, the wife, is absolutely incredible in this film, as well, but it was in “The Namesake” where I was first exposed to the undeniably singular quality of Khan. A viewer could highlight so much. The softness of his speech: a patience to talk at his own pace, with such gravity that you could never stop listening, almost like you couldn’t resist leaning in to catch all of the subtleties. Maybe it was the way he moved: slowly and peacefully, almost hypnotizing. Or how he didn’t move, how he stood still. A way with stillness in cinema is something so few people possess. He also had this gaze and these sort of sad, weary eyes that were impossible to look away from. He could be sweet, as he was so often in “the Namesake”, just as quick as he could be severe, as he was for most of “Slumdog.” I will undoubtedly revisit these movies and without question seek out his other films.
A few years ago, when I used to work the front desk at a gym in Columbus Circle, he came into the gym. I can’t remember the details of his visit—not sure whether he was working out, taking a class, or just wanted to go the sauna/steam room, but it was an absolute pleasure to see him, tell him how much I enjoyed and appreciated his work, and maybe most of all, to experience his aura face-to-face. His calm was otherworldly. A calm that could make you calm.
It was a privilege to meet him and it will always be an honor to remember him and see his work in the years to come.
Rest easy, Mr. Khan.