Saif Ali Khan Case: Auto-rickshaw driver who rushed Saif Ali Khan to hospital unaware of actor’s identity; says, “A man who was covered in blood came out…”

A day after actor Saif Ali Khan was stabbed by an intruder at his Bandra residence, an auto-rickshaw driver Bhajan Singh Rana, who took him to the Lilavati Hospital, said he was not aware that the passenger he was taking to the Hospital was film actor Saif Ali Khan. He said, “I drive my vehicle at night. It was around 2-3 am when I saw a woman trying to hire an auto but nobody stopped. I could also hear calls for a rickshaw from inside the gate. After I took a U-turn and stopped my vehicle at the gate, a man who was covered in blood came out. 2-4 people also accompanied him.” He added, “They put him in the auto...They decided to go to Lilavati. I dropped them off there...I then came to know that he is Saif Ali Khan...I saw him bleeding from his neck and back.” #WATCH | Attack on #SaifAliKhan | Mumbai: Bhajan Singh Rana, autorickshaw driver who rushed the actor to Lilavati Hospital after the attack, says, "I drive my vehicle at night. It was around 2-3 am when I saw a woman tryi...

Tod Browning: the film-maker who brought the carnival to Hollywood

A new retrospective offers another chance to appreciate the daring and often deranged films made by a director who was once the centre of a moral panic

When a kid threatens to run away and join the circus, perhaps upon being forced to eat broccoli or go to bed, they’re fantasizing about more than just independence. The traveling carnival offered an alternative way of life that appealed specifically to those uninvested in the politenesses of the grownup world. No one can make a carny shower, wear a tie or go to church. This liberation from the strictures of civilized society was a must for an ethically spotty line of work reliant on a mix of trickery, hucksterism, prurience and morbid fascination, a low art form that attracted a certain kind of scuzzy personality. The tents of the sideshow provided a home to thieves, oddballs, creeps, chiselers, dope fiends, conmen, women of ill repute, leches, lushes and any other species of degenerate in need of a paycheck. If vaudevillians were the rock stars of the pre-cinema era, then circus folk were van-dweller punks cutting a swath of blithe misbehavior from gig to gig.

Just before the turn of the 20th century, at the ripe age of 16, a bricklayer’s son named Charles Albert Browning Jr decided that these were his people and abandoned his well-heeled family to join their grubby ranks. He would spend 10 years cutting his teeth as a barker, song-and-dance man, clown and contortionist before rechristening himself Tod, the German word for “death”, conferring a ghastly gravitas. Three years later, he’d take leave of the stage with sights set on the burgeoning silent film industry, but he’d carry the lurid spirit of the big top with him through the rest of an illustrious, disreputable career.

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