This left the field open for the two star sons, Sanjay Dutt and Sunny Deol, and a fiery Anil Kapoor to warily push and prod their way to plot a coup to gain passage to the crumbling Bachchan bastion, as the likes of Dharmendra, Mithun Chakraborty, Jackie Shroff and Govinda preferred to appear in scores of listless films that made it look as if every day was a Friday. It was a time when Salman Khan and Aamir Khan had broken out with smash hits announcing their arrival, while a clueless Amitabh Bachchan appeared in a line-up of atrocious films that sank steadily at the box office, even before their producers knew they had come and gone, and Shah Rukh Khan was still waiting in the wings, honing his open arms pose. If today, Varun Dhawan says that actors cannot give mediocre films to audiences, in those days it was their abiding responsibility to lure the audience with inane films by the dozen, no questions being asked. It would go on to kindle a sense of detachment from them of the young urbane crowd dazzled by Metallica, Nirvana music videos and warming up to the indie rock bank Rock Machine on MTV, while they scurried to devour Hollywood films on hard-to-get scratchy, static-laden VHS tapes, having waited for eons for these to release in the few single-screen cinemas in the country. The landscape during the early years of the nineties in the Hindi film industry was eerily dreary, littered with the ghouls of mundane, soulless, almost a loathsome array of films that were rolled out with amazing regularity from some moldy spinning mule within the precinct of a Mukesh Mill-like facility.
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