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<h1 class="left">A couple of weeks back, one of India’s largest film production and distribution companies released the trailer of Kesari 2. The comment section began flooding almost immediately with praises solely for the movie’s female lead, Ananya Panday. A post on the infamous subreddit r/BollyBlindsAndGossip appeared soon after: turns out, they had all originated from accounts exhibiting eerily similar behaviour — minimal activity, identical phrasing, and copy-paste promotional language. It looked less like organic buzz, and more like a coordinated drop.</h1>

<h1 class="left">In short: bots. And not for the first time. A few years ago, another post on the same subreddit presented visual evidence of the same bot account being used to engage in both positive and negative trends surrounding Varun Dhawan-starrer Bhediya — all in a bid to keep people talking about the movie. More recently, after Jasleen Royal’s opening act at Coldplay’s concerts had drawn flak on social media earlier this year, a strikingly similar wave of generic adulation had appeared almost simultaneously — from recently created profiles with barely any posts, all using similar keywords: ‘her Mumbai show was pure talent,’ and ‘she has proved her critics wrong.’</h1>

<h1 class="left">Welcome to Bollywood’s age of astroturfing.</h1>

<h1 class="left">Originally used in U.S. politics, ‘astroturfing’ refers to fake grassroots campaigns — say, efforts staged by vested interests to mimic public support. Today, it’s no longer confined to politics — it’s a cultural strategy. In the digital world, that means deploying bots and burner accounts to drown out dissent, amplify hype, and fabricate virality. According to research, during the pandemic, bots accounted for 45-60% of Twitter (currently X) accounts discussing the pandemic, usually, in a bid to spread misinformation aligned with the astroturfer’s political agenda.</h1>

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<h1 class="left">In Bollywood, the same tactics apply — only the product isn’t policy, it’s stardom.</h1>

<h1 class="centre">‘Astroturfing’ entered pop culture vernacular when The New York Times exposed how actor-director Justin Baldoni’s ‘feminist icon’ image was part of a PR push — launched just before Blake Lively was set to accuse him of sexual harassment. Previously, during the highly publicised Depp vs. Heard trial, too, pro-Depp sentiments were artificially amplified on platforms like Twitter, YouTube, and TikTok through bots, coordinated harassment campaigns, and monetised influencers pushing narratives in his favour, as part of a sustained disinformation effort that distorted public perception throughout the trial.</h1>

<h1 class="centre">In India, things aren’t too different. “We’re now being bombarded by fan armies, most of whom, I’m quite certain, aren’t real,” says film critic Sucharita Tyagi. “They’re likely employed by PR firms or producers; I’m not sure who, exactly, but their sole job seems to be to suppress any critical feedback directed at the stars they’re stan-ning. Critical thinking is out. Manufactured consensus is in.”</h1>

<h1 class="centre">Every move an actor makes in the public eye is scripted and staged to elicit specific emotions. A wholesome airport sighting. A gym look ‘caught’ by paps. A breakup dropped into tabloids at just the right time. Take Veer Pahariya, Rasha Thadani, Junaid Khan — their movies performed poorly at the box office, but they managed to dominate the algorithm, courtesy of the narratives around who they’ve dated, what they’re doing on sets, and what form of transport they use to get around the city. Manufactured stardom is about emotional engineering; the aim isn’t merely to make audiences notice, but to make them feel.</h1>

<h1 class="centre">Curated ‘relatable’ moments and orchestrated vulnerability build parasocial intimacy — you think you know the star, you think you’re rooting for them, but in reality, you’re simply participating in their positioning.</h1>

<h1 class="right">“It’s a strategy to stay relevant,” says paparazzo Manav Manglani. “Most of the actors who step out regularly and get captured, they’re dressing up for the gym, making appearances at restaurants and attending parties, even if they might not be shooting any films,” says lead paparazzo Manav Manglani. In most cases, this coverage isn’t just coincidental — it’s commissioned. While the paparazzi are always keen to click celebrity A-listers largely for the views their pictures generate, “paps are sometimes tipped off or even paid by brands they endorse, designers they wear, and events they’re attending,” confirms Manglani. As for when BTS moments from film sets “leak” online, he says, “Sets are guarded, and wahaan pe ghusna impossible hota hai hamaare liye… Set ke andar se leak hota haitoh it's entirely [the] director's or producer's call ki leak karke iske around hype create karna hai."</h1>

<h1 class="right">“Unfortunately, a lot of casting decisions today are influenced by how relevant and popular an actor is on social media,” explains Nandini Viswanathan, founder and media relations specialist at Mumbai-based Bigul PR, which represents Bollywood celebrities, among other verticals. “Maintaining an active and engaging presence across platforms not only boosts their visibility but also opens up more work opportunities for them.”</h1>

<h1 class="left">Not only that, but even good cinema, then, struggles to survive without algorithmic blessing. Reports suggest that while Superboys of Malegaon was widely praised, it got only 500–600 screens for its release — compared to the 2,300 that Loveyapa, which had inundated social media with promotions, did.</h1>

<h1 class="left">Is this the fault of social media alone? Tyagi doesn’t think so. “It’s not social media itself that’s the problem, but the way sentiments on these platforms are being weaponised. That’s what’s really damaging.”</h1>

<h1 class="left">“Social media is just a storytelling tool,” says Sonia Varghese, head of brand and reputation management at Raindrop Media, explaining, “Before the story is told, it has to be written — and that’s where we come in. Think of it this way: social media is an arm, but we, the strategists, are the body. We first work on the overall architecture of a brand: What does this person stand for? What are their core values? Until that base is firmly established, no amount of social media presence or engagement will have a long-term impact.”</h1>

<h1 class="left">The machinery isn't inherently flawed, but its weaponisation in an already unequal landscape has widened the gap between strategy and sincerity in modern celebrity-making.</h1>

<h1 class="left">But audiences are beginning to bridge it by catching on. “A PR company and lots of money can't gaslight us into thinking the other actor in Sky Force has ‘fans,’” pop culture writer and critic, Shreemi Verma, says. “If there's genuine interest, it will pay off — how Madgaon Express started low, remained steady, and stayed in theatres even after it was available to stream… While it didn’t do Jawan numbers, it still managed to recover its amount and get a decent buzz around it.”</h1>

<h1 class="left">Tyagi agrees, noting that while astroturfing can initially generate interest, it doesn’t necessarily convert into ticket sales.</h1>

<h1 class="left">Using the example of Alia Bhatt, and concurring with Tyagi, Nikhil Lalwani, head of business development at Bigul PR, says, “PR can only take you so far in terms of getting recognition. At the end of the day, it's your talent that determines your staying power. Audiences today are far more aware and discerning; they will only accept you once you’ve proved your mettle.”</h1>

<h1 class="left">The same has been true for other “nepo babies” like Kareena Kapoor Khan and Hrithik Roshan — whose careers may have been launched by powerful networks and PR machines, but were sustained only after audiences found them compelling. Still, what sets them apart is the breathing room they were afforded: multiple chances to succeed, greater visibility in the interim, and the luxury of time to grow into their stardom. That time — the ability to keep trying, keep being seen — is itself a psychological strategy. It builds familiarity. And familiarity breeds fondness; it’s the ‘mere-exposure effect’ in psychology.</h1>

<h1 class="left">Visibility thus becomes the buffer against irrelevance. But, if visibility alone can keep one in the game, does talent start to take a backseat? It also asks whether the making of a star is directly influenced by their acting prowess or the ability to bag brand deals through orchestrated visibility.</h1>

<h1 class="left">But that doesn’t mean we’re doomed to cultural brainrot. Or that the system can’t be worked differently.</h1>

<h1 class="left">“PR is not just about image management; it’s also about trust-building. And trust doesn’t come from flawless filters; it comes from showing up — mess and all,” says Viswanathan. “I genuinely believe that the only kind of PR that truly works is the kind where you ‘come as you are’ — authentic, imperfect, human.”</h1>

<h1 class="left">In a culture flooded with performance, it’s that kind of unrehearsed vulnerability that still cuts through. Maybe the future of stardom isn’t about resisting the algorithm, but about using it differently. Telling better stories. Building slower, more deliberate momentum. Creating characters, not caricatures. Making visibility work for the art — not in place of it.</h1>

<h1 class="left">That pursuit of authenticity — even in a hyper-strategised industry — might be the only thing keeping the myth of stardom alive.</h1>

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