My endeavour in compiling Once Upon a Time in India – A Century of Indian Cinema is to revive old images — much like the bioscope we watched in our childhood. The book is structured like a diary with illustrated postcards of films and captures the evolution of this magical medium in India over time.
The interesting thing about art, like life, is that it keeps changing. Time introduces new trends, and technology and art also evolve. Cinema is the most sensitive medium of all art forms and also the most effective. It reflects life, our socio-political condition and our diverse cultures and traditions.
In the early days, we made only mythological films, because to establish a new medium, one had to tell stories that were already known to the audience. Pre-Independence, our films were about patriotism. In the 1960s, when we were a free country, colour invaded not just our films but also our lives — as a result, when Shammi Kapoor glided down a snow-capped mountain singing Yahoo, it was not just the Junglee actor but the entire nation that was celebrating Independence.
Similarly, in the 1970s, it was not just Amitabh Bachchan but the unemployed youth of India that was frustrated, angry and anti-establishment. The underworld was portrayed in our cinema in the 1980s because crime had infiltrated our system to an extent that the audience had stopped visiting cinema halls because a majority of the films were about smugglers and dons.
Then Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak happened and the audience’s faith in romance was restored. Hum Aapke Hai Koun..! came in the 1990s, when India was looking again at the virtues of the joint-family system and ‘arranged marriages’ in all their pomp and glory.
When writer Javed Akhtar’s son, Farhan Akhtar debuted as director in 2000, critics termed Dil Chahta Hai as ‘coming-of-age’ cinema. The film appealed as much to the young as to the old because its characters were so relatable.
Since then, more than a decade has gone by and we have bent and broken all the rules of traditional film viewing. Our cinema is no more confined to duration, songs or language. Multiplexes or, rather, multi-screens have dissolved all boundaries. Now, it is no longer just about the Rs 100 crore, but much more, and the club includes not just our heroes but our heroines, directors, writers and technicians. Interestingly, they deliver most of the time, but sometimes make errors of judgment too.
In 2013, the Shakespeare-obsessed Vishal Bhardwaj gave us the unpalatable Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola, and South Indian superstar Kamal Haasan disappointed many with Vishwaroopam. Neeraj Pandey succeeded with Special 26 after A Wednesday, and Abhishek Kapoor with Kai Po Che! after Rock On!. It was a year of blockbusters. Eros International buzzed with Raanjhanaa, Dharma Productions had everyone tapping their feet to Ye Jawani Hai Deewani, and a small film called The Lunchbox stole the thunder from all the big banners.
Filmmakers dabbled at every type of genre and subject under the sun: thriller (Table No. 21), horror (Ek Thi Daayan), comedy (Fukrey), biopic (Bhaag Milkha Bhaag), composite (Bombay Talkies and The Ship Of Theseus), realistic (Shahid and Madras Cafe) and franchise (Aashiqui 2, Krrish 3 and Dhoom 3 all in the same year).
The year 2014 was dedicated to women. In Dedh Ishqiya, Madhuri Dixit and Huma Qureshi take the men for a ride. In Highway, the bride-to-be (Alia Bhatt) is abducted and returns home to expose the harsh realities of her life. In Shaadi Ke Side Effects, Farhan Akhtar and Vidya Balan deconstruct marriage. Gulaab Gang, Bobby Jasoos, Mardani, Finding Fanny, Mary Kom and, most importantly, Queen, were about taking the female gaze into consideration. The regular dose of romance (2 States), action (Holiday, Ek Villain) and socially relevant films (City Lights) coexisted and made moolah at the box office too.
In the old days, most films were very run-of-the-mill, and it was only once in a while that there came a film that everyone was proud of. Today, most films are engaging in terms of the narrative or technique, though sometimes, regressive themes find a way into the cinema halls too. In 2015, Akshay Kumar re-packaged action with Baby, and Varun Dhawan proved he could manage action (Badlapur) as well as he could romance.
Women continued to be in the spotlight and writers explored many shades and angles of gender; so if Qissa was about inequality, Dum Laga Ke Haisha was about obesity; while NH10 was about safety, Margarita with a Straw dealt with disability; Piku was about the single girl, Tannu Weds Mannu Returns was about the independent girl, and Angry Indian Goddesses was about making choices.
Women filmmakers were no longer making films only about women, they also addressed other issues — be it murder in Meghana Gulzar’s Talvar, or family matters in Zoya Akhtar’s Dil Dhadakne Do.
There was an easy influx of talent from all over the country (Shoojit Sircar) and from across the border as well (Fawad Khan), and the mushrooming casting directors played an important role in introducing small-town theatre writers, actors and musicians, who ushered a new language, dialect and sound.
Mainstream cinema voluntarily soaked in the fragrance of independent cinema, be it Masaan, the story of the Ganges, or Yash Raj Films’ Titli - both dark, powerful stories. Karan Johar co-produced the gigantic multilingual film Baahubali, and Ajay Devgn and Tabu starred in the remake of the South film Drishyam. Superstar Salman Khan delivered two blockbusters, Bajrangi Bhaijaan and Prem Ratan Dhan Payo back to back, and Sanjay Leela Bhansali paid homage to K Asif’s Mughal-E-Azam with his magnificent Bajirao Mastani.
As we come to the end of 2016, it is evident that movie watching is not going to be about the superstars any longer. Shoojit Sircar’s path-breaking Pink is as much about youngsters as it is about the seniors, Amitabh Bachchan, Dhritman Chatterjee and Piyush Mehra. Content has always been king and now more and more filmmakers are following their hearts, with nary a care about the box office. Movie-making today is about reinvention and risk, and nobody is judgmental about whether or not the female lead is a virgin.
The old genres co-existed, and thrillers particularly never went out of fashion. So we saw Airlift, Wazir, Teen and Madari. Women subjects offered fresh perspectives — Chalk n Duster addressed our teachers, Neerja addressed the brave, slain air hostess, Nil Battey Sannatta addressed the housemaid, and Sarbjit honoured our patriots. Udta Punjab was about our decaying youth, Ki & Ka was about our perceptions regarding gender, while Kapoor & Sons was about our family traditions.
In terms of output, India ranks first in the world in the number of feature films produced — roughly 1,602 per year. Over the years, enhanced technology has altered the manner in which films reach the target audience. In the present digitised era of cinema, DVD sales comprise the major revenue for film producers. Other sources include music, branding, merchandising, publishing, video games and other similar outlets. Today, regional cinema is not an outsider. In fact, most Bollywood producers are investing in regional movies and also producing collaborations.
Finally, everybody has accepted that even the biggest superstar cannot save a film without a moving story and a talented director. The emphasis has moved from the budget and proposals to passion and vision. Until a few years ago, marketing teams were fooling producers by stating that aggressive promotions could salvage mediocre products. However, this is no longer the case. Now, they have accepted that the audience is too intelligent to be manipulated. The magic is in being real, in being original and thinking novel every time.
Change is inevitable and in business, it comes rapidly. When 3 Idiots released with 1,000 prints, we called it a phenomenon. Ek Tha Tiger, just a few years later, released with 600 prints. Pre-Independence, the ticket cost for a film was 25 paisa; post-Independence, it became Rs 1.50 and later Rs 3.50. And today, multiplexes charge a minimum of Rs 300 (over the weekends).
Some things will take a long time to change — piracy, for instance, a menace for the film fraternity. In the initial days, Hindi cinema was ruled by the studios. It used to be driven by the star system. Then came the corporates funded by the studios, and now, after a long time, the producers have taken the reins back in their hands again. Today, Hindi cinema is at a crossroads, where, on one hand, we are celebrating a film like Pink, saluting the patriarch Amitabh Bachchan who has contributed over 40 years to cinema, and, on the other hand, we are heading towards doom, or so says the old guard.
Insiders opine that there is a pall of gloom on the movie business. They deliberate that the industry is collapsing. I agree that the last five years have been crazy and that the corporates have messed up on many levels - exorbitant service taxes and exaggerated acquisition rights being the prime reasons for this. There is a panic that the studios are folding up and that only home banners and family productions will be able to survive the storm. This may eventually happen, and that is because movie consumption is no longer restricted to theatres. There is television, the internet and streaming services provided by the likes of Amazon, Netflix, Hotstar and Jio, to name a few.
But to say that film industry will collapse is a fantasy. It has survived for more than 100 years and will continue to rise and shine and face the innumerable challenges in its path.
Many years ago, when I interviewed Shekhar Kapur, he stated, “Indian cinema will become global, and the day is not far when the hero behind the mask of the superman will not be a Tom Hanks or a Tom Cruise, but our own Shah Rukh Khan or Aamir Khan.” I think that time has come.
As Irrfan Khan shines in Inferno; as Priyanka Chopra and Deepika Padukone make headlines with Baywatch and xXx: Return of Xander Cage respectively; as Kangana Ranaut redefines the Indian woman in Queen, and the audience embraces Masaan with the same devotion as Tanu Weds Manu Returns, Indian cinema emerges into the global spotlight.
We still love our musicals and celebrate the sheer magnitude of Baahubali and Bajirao Mastani. But we also know that scale is never a replacement for passion, and this is why the audience will continue to be drawn to Neerja, Nil Battey Sannata, Piku and Pink.
Martin Scorsese, in a letter to his daughter, said, “The art of cinema was made possible because it aligned with business conditions . . . But with all the attention paid to the machinery of making movies . . . there is one important thing to remember: the tools don’t make the movie, you make the movie.”
(Bhawana Somaaya has been writing on cinema for 30 years and is the author of 12 books. You can follow her on Twitter @bhawanasomaaya)
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