14/05/2020
Why doesnât India have a foothold in world cinema?
The reason to why the Indian film industry, notorious for being generalized as âcrapâ, has never managed to pull itself up to its global counterparts, is often conveniently attributed by its own filmmakers to the rock-bottom standards of its audience.
If this is indeed true, shouldnât we be focusing on better output, rather than waiting for a magic vaccine to fall out of the sky?
Parasite, the film that swept through this yearâs Academy Awards and walked away with Cannesâ prestigious Palme dâOr comes from South Korea â a country whose first film was made 32 years after Indiaâs first feature, and 14 years after its first âtalkieâ. If a newborn industry like South Korea can scale such heights of quality, it doesnât take much more than common sense to deduce that Indiaâs own filmmakers are the responsible for its undoing. With their mind and soul forever driven by money and fame, they have and never will give a flying f**k about the art that is film.
Perhaps the sore lack of auteurs in the infancy of Indian cinema is to blame. The lack of a Griffith, a Porter, an Eisenstein or a Pudovkin - artists who embraced and pushed the craft forward, is to blame for the industry shriveling up into merely a business.
The 1952 edition of the International Film Festival of India, held in Mumbai, was truly an eye-opener for many. Films from Italy, France and Japan were exhibited, of which the Italian neo-realism quickly gained a fan-following. This was the catalyst that led to Indiaâs first neo-realistic film being made and released in 1955 â Rayâs Pather Panchali. Ray was quickly followed by fellow auteurs Ritwik Ghatak and Mrinal Sen. The winds of neo-realism had begun to sweep across Mumbaiâs commercial industry. Bimal Royâs Do Bigha Zamin, Shantaramâs Do Aankhen Barah Haath, Abbasâ Munna, Raj Kapoorâs Jagte Raho were but the few neo-realistic films that made their presence felt in those times. In South India, the Malayalam industry dove into the genre with Ramu Kariatâs Neelakuyil and P. Ramdasâ Newspaper Boy.
In the beginning of the 60s, massive changes were on the horizon for world cinema. This was the yellow brick road that led to the modern cinema of today.
European shores were washed over by the tsunami of French New Wave cinema â from Hungary to Poland to Czechoslovakia, even the conservative Britain not being spared. A new wave of cinema began to take shape. Cameras began to exit the confines of the studios. Breaking the known alphabet of cinematic conventions, a new language of handheld shots and jump-cuts began to take birth.
Even within Hollywood, the land of commercial cinema, experiments like Avant-garde cinema began to sprout.
In America, films began to openly address topics that were taboo. Homos*xuality, racism and counter-culture movements were now part of the tapestry of modern cinema. Everything from 8-hour long films to 6-hour footage of just people sleeping were produced as anti-art films. Since these films never could find a place to be exhibited, they were christened as âundergroundâ cinema.
While world cinema was undergoing a rebirth of sorts, what exactly was happening in India? Nothing at all. The Mumbai industry, which was on the path of neo-realism ended up being completely smothered by commercialism. Even the masters werenât spared - Satyajit Ray had to bow down to compromise, and Ritwik Ghatak began to fade into obscurity. From this time onwards, Indian cinema has had to live in the false contentment of progress - progress in no other way than technical finesse. While there rose the occasional film that sparked dissent against the establishment, none got the attention they deserved. Even in Kerala, only a handful of films from filmmakers like John Abraham, Adoor and Aravindan were recognized internationally.
Now comes the million-dollar question â Are sleepy âaward filmsâ enough? Donât we need movies that entertain? The unfortunate âaward filmâ is the Indian audienceâs contribution to the world cinema lexicon. Since the beginnings of Indiaâs art-house circuit started with neo-realistic films, the term âaward filmâ may have been a creation of certain Rajamoulis or members of the audience who felt that the âreelâ life portrayed was tedium incarnate sans a seasoning of fantasy. Regardless, the term has indeed aged quite badly, falling out of favor. If youâre unable to get your entertainment fix from Quashiq Mukherjeeâs high voltage psychedelia and cannibal love stories, Thiagarajan Kumararajaâs genre mashups or LJPâs Jallikkattu, thatâs probably a result of the haze of conventionalism clouding your brains. A few years of exposure to good cinema â thatâs all it takes for the dust to settle.
Filmmakers who explode with pretentiousness in real life, while simultaneously confining themselves to a few select âsafe-zonesâ in their films are dime-a-dozen in our industry. Why many of them, despite scaling great heights in their careers continue to hide in the safety of these zones is beyond us. Indian cinema will succeed even if few of these folks grow a pair and take the initiative. A casual enquiry with an average Indian film school graduate stepping out into the real world reveals the bitter truth. âTake your knowledge of Tarkovsky, take your Jodorowsky, take your Pasolini and Kiarostami, stuff them deep into a closet and forget about themâ - A plight that this is probably non-existent even in a place like Iran.
While our filmmakers may yet to have their fill, arenât you - the viewer, tired of this charade already?
Written by Vishnu Dev.
Translated by
Bijoy Raveendran
Editor Evolv Magazine
Organic Cinema.Inc
