-Illustration by Eefa Khalid/Dawn.com

Someone ought to make a film on how Bollywood looks at the calendar. At the beginning of every year the trade is divided into two distinctive groups consisting of those who look at the emotions and those who let economics guide them. There are two things common amongst the two namely, (a) both know each other’s strengths and weaknesses but pretend otherwise and, (b) both make promises that would help guide them through the year only to be broken.

Both groups pretend that the first quarter of the year is the most important as the fate of films released during this period would set the pitch of the entire year. Both know this isn’t how it’s going to play out for January, like most things Bollywood, usually strikes a very boring middle ground, which is pretty much how every year plays out.

The first two weeks of January are extremely unlucky when it comes to new releases and most films released during this period are flops – Mela, Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani, Chandni Chowk to China, Halla Bol, Chance Pe Dance. The second-half of the month is a lucky striking ground and has seen films like Luck By Chance, Yamla Pagla Deewana, Ishqiya and some critically acclaimed films like Dhobi Ghat. The first month of the year attracts all kinds of films and for once views them as equals. Many small films think that no big producer would try and release their films so close to the New Year’s Eve and hope to make the most of it; the big producers think that the euphoria of the new year would help boost their films and then there’s a lot in the middle who applies simple logic of ‘a good film will always run.’ January has seen big films like Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani, Mela, Sunday and Veer sink at the box-office, it has witnessed surprise hits like Kaho Na Pyaar Hai, No One Killed Jessica and obscure names like Impatient Vivek, Waiting Room or Tulsi trying to make hay while the sun shines.

A close look at the films that release in January shows all the promises that Bollywood makes every year. These pledges range from making it better than the last year, becoming more meaningful, cleaner, and little more wholesome and not over estimating itself. A handful of these vows are fulfilled but old habits die-hard and a 50/50-success rate of films, irrespective of size and intentions forces Bollywood to overlook the promises. They might not be completely forgotten but are certainly put on hold till the next year. One of Bollywood’s most illuminating features is its almost unrelenting inability to change. It’s not like it’s not capable of changing but the more it tries to change the more it remains the same. One could blame the simple arithmetic of business that tomorrow should be better than today for the situation and in such a case if something worked yesterday, why wouldn’t you simply replicate it to work the same magic? Perhaps that’s the reason when a Ghajini-like template cracked the 100 crore market, it couldn’t help but inspire a tirade of similar experiments like Dabangg, Singham and Rowdy Rathore. Look at the progression of the films and you’d see just how consistent the filmmakers were in not changing something that was a winning formula.

The big-budgeted films might be getting bigger and therefore, forcing every star to try taking the same path for their 100-crore film but meaningful cinema is increasing in numbers. A small breed of mainstream cinema is dedicated to telling a story and keeping the fantasy real; it’s the growth of this segment that promises to balance the 100-crore cacophonies.

The names of Sujoy Ghosh (Kahaani), Dibakar Banerjee (Shanghai), Tigmanshu Dhulia (Paan Singh Tomar), Shoojit Sircar (Vicky Donor) have now become calling cards similar to a big star. Now, that the audiences have turned up, hopefully they wont run of out of their 2012 stories that promised to make 2013 worthwhile.

Poll:

Born a cinephile and a close observer of society, the author is an award-winning documentary filmmaker/writer. He is a regular contributor to leading Indian publications and is currently working on his first book. Find out more about him here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

Fed up with a lenient justice system hundreds of young women, men and elders took to the streets to highlight to the government and elected public representatives the urgent need for a rehaul of the system to address the most recent and widely publicised gruesome rape of a twenty-three year old girl in the national’s capital. People questioned this abject lack of apathy that rampantly prevails in the system but were at the receiving end of police action in the form of water canons, tear gas shells and lathi (baton) charge. Millions saw them live on television. One thing was common to both those who were present there and watching the live coverage – it all looked far too surreal, and even filmic, to be true and yet, it was as real as the day. Looking at the images of police beating protestors for questioning a publically elected government brings to mind images from N. Chandra’s Pratighaat (1987). When a schoolteacher, Laxmi (Sujata Mehta), choses to defy the local politician by testifying against him, he publically disrobes her and no one comes forward to save her. The film reinterprets the mythical tale of Durga, the goddess, who slays the demon Mahishasura, with the politician playing the demon that is a personification of evil and now, many young Indians could have the same view. Irrespective of the interpretation, cinema and even Bollywood, isn’t insulated enough to be untouched by reality. In Rang De Basanti the perfunctory ease with which a corrupt politician tarnishes a dead Air Force pilot for incompetence in order to save himself transforms young students in an instant. It’s not like they jump from being carefree youngsters to neo-revolutionaries who assassinate the corrupt minister; they protest by asking questions, they take out candle-light marches to evoke some sentiment in the state machinery and only resort to violence when all efforts fails. For its part cinema inspired reality when Rang De Basanti’s candle light march became a nonviolent tool of dissonance adopted by Indians in real life. It was a candle light walk that prompted people to come out in droves and urge the court to reopen the Jessica Lal murder case.

A lot of skeptics might not agree but in a nation like India, cinema plays a pivotal role in shaping the manner in which people think. Although it might be statistically and intellectually arguable but there is great truth in the fact that the depiction of police and society at large while engaging with rape victims in Bollywood films is highly responsible for influencing people’s behavior in real life. Coming down a notch from an obvious criminal act of rape, even romance sometimes presented to be a man’s playing field. You wouldn’t think of a character played by an Aamir Khan or a Govinda as someone who’d molest a girl but look closer and tell me that films such as Deewana Mujhsa Nahin (1990) or Hero No. 1 (1997) aren’t insidious enough to inspire men to view women in an uncomplimentary light? A docile fashion photographer Ajay (Aamir Khan) mistakes Anita’s (Madhuri Dixit) sweetness for love. He expresses his feelings but she shuns him away and yet, he refuses to give up. He is convinced that no one can love Anita like him and so, simply starts hounding her and doesn’t let her engagement to another stop him. You see, Ajay is certain that her perspective partner isn’t a good man and when in the end his prediction comes true Anita starts seeing Ajay in a new light. Similarly on the pretext of being helpful to a fellow Indian in Switzerland, Hero No 1’s Rajesh (Govinda) endlessly pesters Meena (Karishma Kapoor), and what’s worse her own aunt encourages him. Inspiration to do good from films is far outweighed by the instances that instigate the wrong. Popular Indian cinema and not just Bollywood fuels the already prevailing patriarchal outlook towards women in India far more than anyone would credit it with. In many Tamil films, and Hindi films like Benaam Baadshah, there have been instances when a rapist agreeing to marry their victims suddenly absolves them of all inhumanity and wrong.

Films are often blamed for stimulating the wrong in people. Experiences like John Hinckley attempting to assassinate President Regan after obsessively watching Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver (1976) are a reminder of the power that cinema wields over people. The majority of the people who took to the streets during the Delhi Protests form a segment that are usually avoided or misrepresented by Bollywood. For what it’s worth this group got inspired by the good from films rather than the second half of Rang De Basanti or A Wednesday (2008) but the way things are, who knows how reality might outshine those reel images too. Its audiences have done Bollywood some justice and now it’s up to the filmmakers to not only correctly represent a major proportion of them but also inspire them in the true sense of the word.

Poll:

Born a cinephile and a close observer of society, the author is an award-winning documentary filmmaker/writer. He is a regular contributor to leading Indian publications and is currently working on his first book. Find out more about him here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

Nawazuddin Siddiqui

If the Mayans were to be believed then the world was supposed to end this year. Outrageous as it may sound, the thought couldn’t scare Bollywood for what could possibly be more outrageous! The world might not have come to an end but the old order to things did change for Bollywood. Additionally, there was a lot new in terms of not just faces but also stories, and more importantly attitude across the entire spectrum.

2012 is the year where the 100 crore box-office collection mark almost became a norm for the big releases. For the first time seven films (Ek Tha Tiger, Rowdy Rathore, Agneepath, Housefull 2, Barfi!, Jab Tak Hai Jaan, and Bol Bachchan) collected over 100 crores in the domestic market. But the good thing is that in spite of such a record setting feat, 2012 might just be recalled more for films like Paan Singh Tomar, Kahaani, and Vicky Donor.

A mix of commercial as well as critical success, these three films broke a lot of myths such as heroine-oriented films, biopics that don’t feature stars and mature comedies being risky projects. Sujoy Ghosh’s sequel to Kahaani featuring Vidya Balan is already in the works and Ayushman Khurana’s performance in Vicky Donor has been one of the best things to happen to commercial Hindi cinema for a while. As far as performances went then the year clearly belonged to Nawazuddin Siddiqui who not had two of his films (Gangs of Wasseypur, Miss Lovely) screened at the Cannes Film Festival but also pitched in a riveting performance as Timur in Talaash. Similarly, Siddique’s costar from Gangs of Wasseypur Huma Qureshi too lapped up rave reviews but the one superlative performance of the year was Sridevi’s English Vinglish. Returning to the silver screen after almost 15 years, Sridevi did what she’s best at – setting the screen on fire and proving that there’s nothing like old gold.

The biggest contribution 2012 made was in in clearing a little of the predicament that many production houses found themselves in about a cinema where the big budget event films and the middle of the path cinema could happily co-exist. Often the success of smaller films like Kahaani or Vicky Donor would make them scurry around the directors who made them and give them a carte blance for the future. Sujoy Ghosh suffered when the success of Jhankar Beats got him Alladin but he seems to have understood what he’s best at, and hopefully this time around the second-half would be different.

On a sadder note, the year saw the death of Hindi cinema’s first bona fide superstar Rajesh Khanna and Yash Chopra, a filmmaker who perhaps redefined Hindi films on more occasion than anyone else in living memory. In spite of all the change and freshness and what have you, the success of the tried and tested especially the fact that the more regressive a film seemed the greater money it made will ensure that nothing changes in real terms.

If we know one thing about Bollywood is that the more things change the more they remain the same. So, if this year we saw a Rowdy Rathore, 2013 promises to unleash the remake of Himmatwala and who knows which oldie would Team Golmaal rehash this time around. The success of the comparatively smaller films such as Paan Singh Tomar, Kahaani and Vicky Donor has been more than a silver lining and will no doubt inspire a few more in similar lines. This fight of the two opposing schools of Hindi cinema is what makes it interesting, and hopefully 2013 will give us more to cheer.

Poll:

Born a cinephile and a close observer of society, the author is an award-winning documentary filmmaker/writer. He is a regular contributor to leading Indian publications and is currently working on his first book. Find out more about him here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

2012 is a very fascinating year for Hindi cinema as some of its best-known faces crossed important milestones. If Dilip Kumar turned 90 this year, Yash Chopra, one who loved Hindi films the most, turned 80 just a few months before his untimely death, it’s biggest icon Amitabh Bachchan turned 70 and Rishi Kapoor, the last of the old school, turned 60. Is there something unique about these men that make them different from not just their contemporaries but also people half their age? It wasn’t like Dilip Saheb wasn’t offered films in the last two decades but he chose not to do anything that wouldn’t do justice to his stature and perhaps that was the reason that he practically retired by the time he turned 70, a few months shy of his second last release, Saudagar in 1991.

At 70 Bachchan is enjoying the busiest phase of his career and at 80 Yash Chopra was as passionate about Jab Tak Hai Jaan (2012) as he was when he directed his first film. If Dilip Saheb’s age were the flag post to measure an actor’s career, then one can easily look forward to not only Bachchan’s films in the next two decades but also Rishi Kapoor’s. One of the best things to have happened to Hindi cinema in the recent past is the promise Rishi Kapoor has shown in his new avtar. Hindi cinema’s eternal lover-boy, Kapoor’s transition from the hero to the supporting act hadn’t been a smooth one. It took a lot of false starts but once Kapoor found his groove he delivered one superlative performance after the others in Love Aaj Kal, Do Dooni Chaar, and Agneepath, where he played the villain. Like a better part of his career where Kapoor had to work hard to make his presence felt amongst stars like Rajesh Khanna, Amitabah Bachchan and then Jeetendra in the 1980s, Kapoor today has managed to fill a slot that is a tad too old for Bachchan or Dharmendra, too lost for Vinod Khanna or Shatrughan Sinha and too young for Anil Kapoor, Jackie Shorff and Sunny Deol.  He is one of the few actors today who would be as comfortable to play the hero’s father as he would be in a mature romance and for the first time he’s free to play true character parts like Lallan Miyan, the affable paanwala in the Chasme Budoor remake.

It’s not just these three actors from different generations turning a corner in the same year that makes 2012 unique for Hindi cinema. The year, when the thespian turns 90, finds the entire present generation of Bollywood’s biggest stars at the halfway mark. At 47 Aamir, Salman, Shah Rukh already look tired and at 43 both Ajay Devgn and Akshay Kumar are fast running out of ideas. They may have been around for over two decades and find their hits getting bigger with each release but to think that they’d be making films for the next three to four decades isn’t as exciting a prospect as one would imagine. Out of the five, Aamir might somewhere still manage to make a transition but looking at films like Ghajini (2008) or 3 Idiots (2009) one is confused whether he refuses to acknowledge his age or is behaving like a candle that burns fervently for it burns the brightest before going out. With Wanted (2008), Dabangg (2010), Ready (2011) and Ek Tha Tiger (2012) Salman, today, is more of a genre than an actor and the thing with genres is that they might not last forever. And just how many deviations of Golmaal can Devng imagine before we’d have enough?

One look at what the present day stars have to offer and you know that the idea of replacing Dilip Kumar can’t even exist as a thought.

Dilip Kumar turned 90 on 11, December 2012

Born a cinephile and a close observer of society, the author is an award-winning documentary filmmaker/writer. He is a regular contributor to leading Indian publications and is currently working on his first book. Find out more about him here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

Bollywood has always been a melting pot of cultures and has attracted artists from across the borders. A majority of Bollywood’s golden generation that included the likes of Dilip Kumar, Dev Anand, B.R. Chopra, Prithviraj Kapoor, O.P. Nayyar, K.L. Saigal, Sunil Dutt, Balraj Sahni, Om Prakash and many more originally hailed from cities like Lahore or Peshawar, which were then a part of British India. Many of these artistes continued to imbibe the culture of their hometown in their works that helped them win fans across what became international borders once India was partitioned.

Many Indian filmmakers held a particular SAARC nation dear to their heart and these nations inspired them unlike anything else. For Yash Chopra, a Punjab that was divided by a man-made line across two nations always existed as one. Be it Waqt, a film he made in the mid 1960s or Veer-Zara, which he directed in the mid 2000s, for Chopra the large heart of Punjab always beat as one. Even after an entire lifetime of selling dreams, the only broken one for Raj Kapoor was one that was spread across the Indo-Pak border. Kapoor wanted to pay a definitive tribute to his memories of Pakistan with Henna, a film that was ultimately completed by his son Randhir Kapoor.

Similarly, Ritwik Ghatak could never let go of the memories of an undivided Bengal where he grew up. For Ghatak the trauma of refugee camps that followed the Partition played an important role in shaping the characters in films like Megh Dhaka Tara (1960), Komal Gandhar (1961) and Subarnarekha (1962). The creation of Bangladesh brought back the trauma of Partition, something that Ghatak never really forgot and his last two films Titash Ekti Nadir Naam (1973), a co-production with Bangladesh, and Jukti Takko Aar Gappo (1974) featured Bangladesh almost as a character.

For Dev Anand it was Nepal when it came to a favorite SAARC country. He immortalised Nepal with his 1970s counter-culture hit Hare Rama, Hare Krishna (1971) and later returned to shoot Ishq, Ishq, Ishq (1974) as a part of the promise he had made to the then King of the Himalayan nation. Mani Ratnam’s oeuvre wouldn’t be as impressive if it lacked Kannathil Muthamittal (2002) his love note to Sri Lanka. The story of an orphan girl whose adopted parents accompany her on the search for her biological mother in the war rife nation, Kannathil Muthamittal uses Sri Lanka’s darkest hour as the backdrop and is perhaps one of Ratnam’s best films.

Films like Feroz Khan’s Dharmatma (1975) initiated Afghanistan’s love for Bollywood. Khan’s film was one of first films to feature the Bamiyan Buddhas before the Taliban obliterated the 6th century relics forever. Bollywood revisited Afghanistan along with Amitabh Bachchan, Sridevi and Danny Denzongpa in Khuda Gawah (1992) and in the recent past even featured Afghan actor, Hanif Hum Ghu in a pivotal role in Kabul Express (2006).

But what is the real reason that Bollywood is the common thread that binds South Asians? Is it because it offers an escape from the harsh realities of our everyday existence? There is little doubt about the escapism that accompanies a typical Bollywood film and yet, there would just be a few people from across these eight nations whose pain it couldn’t ease. Today, Bollywood is perhaps the only place in South Asia, dubbed one of the most volatile places in the world, where borders don’t matter. An Ali Zafar finds himself as much at home in Mumbai as he would in Lahore just like Runa Laila did in the 1970s or Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Ali Haider did in the 1990s. Similarly, a Naseeruddin Shah never felt more loved by an audience like he did during his recent visit to Lahore.

Thanks to Bollywood even policymakers have started looking at films as a tool of not only interaction but also cultural cooperation. The SAARC Film Festival is one such initiative that gets bigger and better with every new edition. In spite of the regular challenges faced by the SAARC fraternity, the relationship amongst the members has almost been like high drama from a Bollywood film. Our differences may compel us to take different paths but somewhere our similarities make the roads meet. There will always be the naysayers who may doubt the power of Bollywood but to them one can only say a people who once watch a Bollywood film together are doomed to stay together … the fact that we enjoy the emotions, Bollywood has already done half the job.

Born a cinephile and a close observer of society, the author is an award-winning documentary filmmaker/writer. He is a regular contributor to leading Indian publications and is currently working on his first book. Find out more about him here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

Had it not been for women filmmakers, Bollywood’s representation of men would have, at best, remained two-dimensional. If on one hand the Angry Young Man was the best that commercial Hindi cinema could come up with then on the other hand Parallel Cinema couldn’t look beyond the so-called troubled common man. The perfunctory mode of going about his business made the Vijay of Zanjeer (1973), Deewar (1975), Trishul (1978) and Shakti (1982) come across as someone cold and unattached when compared to an Albert Pinto (Albert Pinto Ko Gussa Kyon Aata Hai, 1980) or an Anant Velankar (Ardha Satya, 1983). Somewhere in the middle certain facets of the regular man went missing and it took films of Sai Paranjpye to fish them out. In Sparsh (1980) she extracted one of Naseeruddin Shah’s most poignant performances and in Katha (1983) she helped reimagine the common man unlike ever before. The story of a blind school’s principal, Anirudh (Shah), who falls in love with a widow, Kavita (Shabana Azmi), explores the complexity of a relationship between two people who are burdened by their existence and is nothing less than an absolute master-class in subtlety. No doubt that Shah is an actor who understands characters much better than most of his contemporaries but the studied restraint that he exercises in Anirudh owes a great deal to a woman helming the film. Similarly in Katha, a retelling of the classic tortoise versus hare fable, Paranjpye gave Shah a shot at reinterpreting a regular lower middle-class Indian in a chawl. Rajaram (Shah) is the good-natured simple man who secretly covets his neighbour Sandhya (Deepti Naval) but is too shy to even broach the topic. His fast talking smooth operator of a friend Basu (Farooq Shaikh) comes visiting and turns his life upside down by not only impressing everyone in Rajaram’s life but also wining over Sandhya.

One of the better actors in the business today, Aamir Khan has been at his best when women direct him. Khan has been acknowledged for his sharp instincts when it comes to picking up roles and Deepa Mehta’s 1947-Earth (1998) was the first time this trait was on full display. A decade into the business when he did the film, Aamir had hits like Dil (1990), Dil Hai Ke Manta Nahin (1991), Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar (1992), and Rangeela (1995) behind him but he had never really gotten an opportunity to play a character who wasn’t the star. His Shahnawaz, the Ice Candy Man in 1947-Earth was not only a supporting act in the true sense of the word but also the villain. Mehta managed to show Aamir in a light that a Bollywood star couldn’t have imagined himself in and 15 years on, that performance still remains one of his best ever. In Dhobi Ghat (2011) Aamir played the character closest to his physicality by letting himself be clay in the hands of wife and director Kiran Rao. The film might not have been as successful as his other films but it’s one where he seemed the most comfortable in years. There is a certain sense of studied spontaneity that only increases with every new film of his and this could be the reason that I don’t find myself revisiting Aamir Khan films released after Lagaan (2001) but in Dhobi Ghat he let go of his defenses and the result is a stellar performance as Arun. Imagine an actor who delves deep into the character he plays by growing his hair (Rang De Basanti, 2006) or not cutting his moustache for three years (Rising- The Ballad of Mangal Pandey, 2005) or sleeping with motor oil poured all over him (Ishq, 1997) and yet the best get-up he ever dons is when he is just himself physically! Kiran Rao’s bare bones approach to Arun freed Aamir of the shackles that he perhaps habitually imposes on himself in the name of characterization and pushed him to go into uncharted waters.

Looking at the Anirudhs, Rajarams, Shahnawazs, and Aruns it’s quite clear that it is the approach that women directors have towards male characters that makes all the difference. Somewhere men while creating women characters think of them as different from themselves and hence slant in a particular manner whereas by contrast women don’t look at them as complex or complicated. In fact, women writers and directors explore the opposite sex’s insecurities without making them look insecure. Look at the Vikram Jaisingh character from Zoya Akhtar’s Luck By Chance (2009) and you’ll understand the point I’m trying to make. Had a man directed the film, Sona Mishra (Konkona Sen Sharma) might have looked the same but Vikram (Farhan Akhtar) would have been sanitized beyond repair but in Zoya’s hands, the character (can’t say much about her brother’s acting prowess) remains so true to life that in spite of being a scheming scoundrel of the lowest order he, somehow, manages to redeem himself. Even in a film like Talaash (2012), which may not have been as successful a whodunit as it imagined itself to be, a single scene at the end where Aamir Khan’s Surjan reconciles with the truth about his son suddenly makes it worthwhile. Khan cried his guts out as a parent in Akele Hum Akele Tum (1995) but here, once again, Reema Kagti, pushes him to find a place that makes it a little more real. Now, only if the men in the imagination business could return the courtesy.

Born a cinephile and a close observer of society, the author is an award-winning documentary filmmaker/writer. He is a regular contributor to leading Indian publications and is currently working on his first book. Find out more about him here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

-Photo Illustration by Eefa Khalid/Dawn.com

Does cinema have a purpose? One of the most powerful tools ever devised by man must do something more than merely entertaining a billion people. Cinema was supposed to make us think, inspire, and question besides amusing us but if one were to look at Bollywood’s best from the past decade then it seems like its purpose is lost. Of course, our films still entertain us but the price they appear to have paid seems too high now.

Cinema, like other art forms, is a product of its environment. The power and impact of films is far greater than an individual’s point of view and that’s why at times a deep-rooted critical analysis of even something like Bollywood doesn’t make sense. In the greeter scheme of things Bollywood isn’t as important as columns such as this might imagine it to be but something that stirs emotions both good and ugly in billions of people warrants such musing.

In a recent article that looked at the veracity of Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln, Kevin Levin, a Civil War historian suggested that more than anything else films must make us think about the myths and realities of our times. Although, he said that in the context of a particular film that takes a fresh look at a nation’s biggest crisis, it nevertheless made me think about our popular films. Escapism has been the cornerstone of Bollywood ever since one can recall and for an industry where templatisation is almost a way of life, it has become the talisman that everyone believes in. Many filmmakers try and successfully pass off the ridiculous in the name of entertainment. Others take themselves far too seriously. Some like Anurag Kashyap, an icon of sorts when it comes to heralding in the “new Bollywood”, argue that present day commercial Hindi cinema finally seems to have broken the shackles of the old guard but never has Hindi cinema seemed so purposeless.

Imagine yourself to be an outsider with no idea of India as a nation. Now imagine watching Bollywood’s best from the last decade or so to get know the country. I’m certain that you won’t think much of us, now would you? There are only a handful of films in the last few years that come across as something more than mindless nonsense. In the initial years after Independence films played a major role in uniting people with their strong sense of social messaging. There were films that promoted things like education, or national unity but more than anything else they upheld a sense of general empathy. This element of purpose might seem tacky to the present day it crowd but back then the audience looked forward to it. In the last five years films like Bodyguard, Ghajini, Dabangg, Ek Tha Tiger, and Singham have made more money than films ever before but what does that say about us?

Filmmakers would argue that the proof of the pudding lies in the eating and the fact that ticket-paying viewer likes them is testimony enough. But is the viewer really at play here? If a major release has 17 shows a day per multiplex then what else do you expect the majority of Indian population to do but watch the film for cinema is still the cheapest, and perhaps the only, form of accessible entertainment for them. There is nothing wrong with the Ek Tha Tigers ruling the roost at the box-office but they invariably end up killing everything else. A film like Well Done Abba, an absolute gem directed by Shyam Benegal, didn’t last more than a week in cinemas because in the times of opening weekend collections even seven days was too long a time for a small film. It’s not like Benegal might never make a film again because he doesn’t understand the new economics that govern films; it’s because he might not be able to be completely purposeless. Today, a Gangs of Wasseypur might blow a majority of the audiences and critics equally but look closely and there’s very little that you’d find worth remembering a few days after the epic two-volume opus.

Who would have thought that in a year of a Vicky Donor or Paan Singh Tomar the moral bankruptcy of Hindi cinema would look greater than that of the 1980s. Often berated for being the worst decade for Hindi cinema, the 1980s nonetheless helped the so-called Parallel Cinema to really come of age. It was the only time when films no matter how big or small were treated at par by the industry but also by the audiences as well as the critics. It was time where a Naseeruddin Shah or Om Puri could beat an Amitabh Bachchan in a popular award category and their films went that extra mile to meet the audience’s need for something thought provoking.

There seems to be a direct relationship between Hindi cinema’s growth and it’s lack of purposefulness. Our films are supposed to reflect us but there surely must be something more to us than Ek Tha Tigers and Dabanggs. A filmmaker is freer today to talk about you and me and tell our stories, they must for it’s not like the society that inspires them isn’t in strife.

Born a cinephile and a close observer of society, the author is an award-winning documentary filmmaker/writer. He is a regular contributor to leading Indian publications and is currently working on his first book. Find out more about him here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

No other Indian politician has inspired Bollywood as much as Bal Keshav Thackeray. Described as shy and timid by his colleagues at The Free Press Journal, where he was a cartoonist on rolls, no one could have imagined that Thackeray would one day become a real life equivalent of Don Corleone.

Thackeray loved hanging out with stars and has shared many a channa and beer guzzling sessions with each reigning Hindi superstar of right from Dilip Kumar to Shah Rukh Khan. They hung out with him for he was a rising force in the 1960s and he loved them. He enjoyed seeing them at close quarters and like a fan, at times, couldn’t hide his joy. The rise-and-catch-a-dream fabric of the then Bombay also helped spread the aura of Thackeray. Try telling a filmstar not to mingle with a rising socio-political force and see how they react. Here was a man who quit his job when his South Indian employers retained the fee given by an American newspaper for reproducing his work and then took out his ire on the entire tribe. He first attacked the south Indians, then the Gujaratis and later the Muslims for making life tough for the locals by not only taking up their jobs but also their space. Thackeray became an instant working class hero who was used by the likes of the Congress Party and the affluent Bombay cloth Mill owners to take on the trade unions. Bollywood was drawn to Thackeray like bees to fragrant pollen and had he not existed it would have pretty much created Balasaheb Thackeray.

Thackeray rose to prominence by fighting for whom he believed to be oppressed. He instilled a sense of fear in the minds of the all those around that simply refuses to wither with time. All these Godfathereque characteristics are what endeared his persona to Bollywood. The first time Bollywood immortalised Thackeray onscreen it strangely, made no bones about the uncanny physical resemblance. Narsimha’s (1991) Baapji had Om Puri in a character who might have been based on the very personification of evil from an ancient Indian mythological tale but was unapologetically modeled on Bal Thackeray. Om Puri tried to make Baapji as plausible as an actor could but the script made no attempt to proffer a shade or two of gray for the villain even though that is something of a hallmark for characters derived from Hindu myths. Such was the guise of Thackeray when it came to real life that he didn’t allow good friend Amitabh Bachchan to release Mani Ratnam’s Bombay (1995) a film that Bachchan’s company was distributing, till the director threw out the suggested remorse attached to a saffron and rudraksh sporting character based on him. Thackeray chastised Ratnam that as his film was inspired by the real life Bombay Riots of 1992 how could he falsely ascribe emotions like regret for inciting his followers in a certain direction during the riots when clearly it wasn’t like that. Ram Gopal Varma attributes many of the lines from Sarkar (2005), his version of The Godfather (1972), to Thackeray including the ‘Mujhe jo sahi lagta hai main wohi karta hoon!‘, which he simply made Bachchan mouth verbatim in the film.

For a man who always opted to shy away from his nation’s secular fabric, Thackeray was a hero nonetheless to millions. It’s eerily fascinating to see how people who actually witnessed much of Thackeray’s parochial traits up close and had the sense to comprehend the malevolent, chose to do nothing about it. It was only in the late 1990s that one time close friend Dilip Kumar finally fell out with Thackeray. It wasn’t Thackeray’s hardline anti-Mulsim stance that irked Dilip Kumar to publically snap ties but Thackeray’s demand that the thespian return Pakistan’s highest civilian award, Nishan-e-Imtiaz, in the wake of the Kargil Attack that saw them part ways.

Strangely, it was someone like A.K. Hangal, Bollywood’s frail old grandpa, who withstood the Shiv Sena Supremo’s wrath unlike anyone else. Thackeray labeled Hangal a traitor when he attended Pakistan Day celebrations at the Mumbai Consulate after applying for a visa to visit his birthplace. His scenes were deleted from films and effigies burnt but Hangal stood his ground unlike many others. There might be two natures that beat within Thackeray and there might be instances from his life that could partially exonerate him of some of his ills but Bollywood isn’t interested in them … you see this is something that even Balasaheb wouldn’t approve.

Poll Question:

Born a cinephile and a close observer of society, the author is an award-winning documentary filmmaker/writer. He is a regular contributor to leading Indian publications and is currently working on his first book. Find out more about him here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

A few days ago Kunal Kohli, best remembered as the director of Hum Tum (2004), got livid with Ayushman Khurana for refusing his offer. Rumors ran amok. Some suggested that Khurana didn’t like the script and some hinted that he didn’t like the idea of a rank newcomer cast opposite him. Allegations and counter-allegations notwithstanding, it is quite clear that Khurana simply exercised his choice of saying no to something that didn’t excite him enough.

Following the success of Vicky Donor (2012), his debut film and one of 2012’s biggest hits, that’s the least Khurana has earned but Kohli and a big segment of Bollywood doesn’t think so. A few years ago following Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi (2005), Sudhir Mishra had assumed that Shiny Ahuja, the surprise element of the film, would be an automatic choice for every production that he planned. Ahuja who had been struggling for years before Mishra’s Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi proved to be his breakthrough film, was the toast of the industry but couldn’t say no to Mishra when it came to a film. Ahuja confessed to close friends and even Mishra’s associates that he was made to feel obliged beyond repair by the filmmaker.

So, what makes an actor refuse a film? Casting is one of the biggest factors that one doesn’t attribute enough when it comes to success. Khurana believes that Kohli’s proposed film is a rom-com and it needs an established leading lady and he refused the film as Kohli wasn’t able to cast right. Kohli on the other hand believes that Khurana is too young to make such demands. One can’t help but think that at least Khurana was smart enough to cite this reason as oppose to saying that he didn’t like the script. A few years ago, the then up and coming star Vivek Oberoi refused Kohli’s Hum Tum and regrets his actions to this day. More than saying no, according to his own confession, Oberoi can’t get over the manner in which he refused the film. Riding the crest of his newfound success, Oberoi told Kohli that the film wasn’t worth his attention and had to eat his words once it became the monstrous hit it did and even got Saif Ali Khan a National Award.

The problem in Bollywood is that it operates on logic that defies all common sense. The only rule that governs it is that there aren’t supposed to be any rules and if there are some rules then they need to be broken. The only other rule that is followed silently is that there’s no reason good enough to say no. If that weren’t enough then the future of such actions more often than not comes with a retrospective effect. This becomes more potent when the actor happens to be someone who is an outsider and doesn’t have a godfather in the industry.

At the height of his popularity Jackie Shroff played a thankless role in Subhash Ghai’s Saudagar (1991), Salman Khan was paid Rs. 51, 000 by Sooraj Barjatya for Hum Aapke Hai Kaun… ! (1994) and if tomorrow Khurana’s passed over film becomes a hit, he might not regret it as much as Kohli ensuring that he does.

Nothing succeeds like success and when it comes to Bollywood everything becomes bigger. And the bigger things get, the simpler Bollywood gets – cite lack of dates when it comes to saying no.

Born a cinephile and a close observer of society, the author is an award-winning documentary filmmaker/writer. He is a regular contributor to leading Indian publications and is currently working on his first book. Find out more about him here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

The actor in Rakesh Rohsan always looked far from convincing. A very popular second lead actor from the late 1970s to the early 1980s, Roshan, like most supporting acts of that time ended up playing the same character. Every now and then he’d surprise with a film like Akhir Kyon? (1985) but his spectrum was never left undefined.

By contrast the filmmaker in Roshan rarely looked out of his element. Right from the time he made Khudgarz (1987) to Krrish (2006) Roshan might have made films that don’t promise to be great works of art but none can deny his great box-office track record. Almost all his films have been Hollywood rip-offs – Khoon Bhari Maang (1988) / Return to Eden (1983), Khel / Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (1988), Koyla (1997) / Revenge (1990), and Koi…Mil Gaya (2003) / E.T. The Extra Terrestrial (1982) but everything else pales when you see their acceptability across audiences. Being the son of Roshan, the popular music director, Rakesh couldn’t have escaped the lure of films and while he might not have wanted to be a filmmaker but it’s very clear that he was never really serious about his acting. Before he became a full-time director, Roshan also produced a few films for himself with a little more meat in roles than what others had in mind for him. The memorable Kaamchor (1982) notwithstanding his other ventures like Bhagwaan Dada (1986), Jaag Utha Insaan (1984) and Aap Ke Deewane (1980), saw him playing the same impish fella albeit with a little variation.

What is it about Rakesh Roshan’s second calling that ended up working in his favor? There are other instances when artists have changed gears and things have turned out better. Subhash Ghai was a trained actor but barring a small part in Aradhana (1969), where he played Rajesh Khanna’s sidekick, no one remembers anything about Ghai the actor. In a less than five years Ghai went from being an unknown actor to being touted as one of the freshest things to have happened to Hindi cinema post Kaalicharan (1976). Not as much as Subhash Ghai but Rakesh Roshan’s films have always offered actors a great opportunity to showcase their histrionics. If Khoon Bhari Maang gave Rekha a second lease of life, Shatrughan Sinha’s Bihari Bhuvaneshwar Prasad Sinha in Khudgarz gave him a role that ranks amongst his best and Karan-Arjun is the first film where one got to see the real action star in Salman Khan. Even with a substandard script with plot points older than hills, Roshan made Kaho Na Pyaar Hai look nothing less as the greatest star son launches ever.

Looking at Rakesh Roshan the filmmaker one can’t understand why he never took to directing earlier but perhaps that’s what ‘true calling’ is all about. It’s no secret that Javed Akhtar wrote poetry even before he became a song writer but it was only after his script writing career took a backseat that he took to professionally writing songs. For someone who has enjoyed an equally successful outing as both a screenwriter and a lyricist, Akhtar’s trajectory sums up that there aren’t any false callings when it comes to films. Had Roshan not been an actor for the time he was, he would not understand how to best utilise a particular actor’s skill-set and of course, there would always be those who’d happily torture audiences with their limited talents but that’s another story.

Born a cinephile and a close observer of society, the author is an award-winning documentary filmmaker/writer. He is a regular contributor to leading Indian publications and is currently working on his first book. Find out more about him here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.