Yash, silly, not Prem. The British author who teaches at the School of Oriental and African Studies on the father of the chiffon-and-champagne school of filmmaking.
Director, writer, producer, distributor, businessman, poet manqué—Chopra is all of these and more. Dwyer gets behind the public, Punjabi, earthy, food-loving exterior to the incurably romantic persona that persistently surfaces in his films. Dwyer places his films and life—and to a lesser extent of his brother’s (B.R. Chopra has always been a father figure for him)—in a socio-political context to talk about what was happening in Indian cinema. The writing could have done with a little more flair. And I wish she had corrected the grammar and syntax in the transcripts of her revealing interviews with the man.