My new fangled tendency to theorize about Bollywood seems to have finally caught some attention as I realised when asked to write an article on it for The Beaver, LSE's student newspaper (if you can call the back page trash that regularly appears in it, 'news'). The occasion is India Week, an annual event on the LSE itinerary when everyone who ever had a brown ancestor suddenly discovers their Indianness (okay, maybe the other occasion is when Shilpa is called "Shilpa poppadum" on Big Brother). I guess I'm being unfair to the whole jamboree - it does have after all have sessions like 'How to wear a Sari'.... Anyway, not to digress further, The Beaver decided to have an India specific issue and yours truly wrote an article for it. Here it is:
“I don’t like the term Bollywood. We are the only surviving industry to Hollywood.….If you’re the only survivor to say Goliath, its nicer to be called David instead of lets say Boliath”
- Shah Rukh Khan
The adjective ‘arrogant’ is often used for Shah Rukh Khan. Yet, as Baadshah of Bollywood, he often finds himself in an ambassadorial role and tends to be more measured in his responses when they are representative of Bollywood or India. The comment in question, apart from being inaccurate (Latin American, Hong Kong and Chinese film industries are still flourishing) is, in many ways emblematic of the new confidence that a bold, young, consumerist, middle class India now possesses. In fact, if anything is a barometer of this confidence, it is the changing character of Bombay films from 2000 onwards.
It has been a longstanding criticism of Bombay films that they are genre ambiguous ‘masala’ films which are a potpourri of action, romance, drama, comedy. To see the character of a hoodlum involved in a street fight break out into song in the next scene may appear jarring to a new watcher of Bollywood films but is normal for a viewer acculturated to these movies. Add to the mix unnecessary songs and litany of characters and Bombay films begin to appear positively bewildering for a recent convert. When questioned about this aspect of Indian cinema, famous script writer, Sutanu Gupta said:
“(Indian) audiences have a very set belief in the kind of entertainment provided by cinema – they should see part of family life, romance, songs; they want everything. At the same time, they hate hodge podge films. They want to know whether it is an action film, a thriller, revenge or a ghost story or love story. It’s amazing!”
Despite this strong sense of what Indian audiences want, there has been a noticeable evolution in every aspect of Bombay films in the past decade or so. Where this trend has been the most noticeable is with the themes of recent movies. The run-of-the-mill boy meets girl, dances around trees and bashes up the bad guys routine has given way to more mature and thought provoking subject matter. Symbolic of this change was Rang De Basanti (2006), with its unsettling story about the political awakening and radicalization of jaded urban youth. Another lesser known 2006 film, Being Cyrus, completely in English and boasting of an A list star cast was a bizarre black comedy which defied convention and shocked audiences bred on morality tales. Ab Tak Chappan (2004), armed with the tagline “Doctors cure, engineers build, I kill” was a songless (yes, the unthinkable has happened!) film inspired by a real life Mumbai cop who, as an ‘encounter’ specialist shot dead 56 criminals. Omkara (2006), an adaptation of Othello to Uttar Pradesh’s rural milieu continued the process set in place by the same director in his equally brilliant Maqbool (2003), which adapted Macbeth to the setting of a Muslim gangster’s home. Raincoat (2005), inspired by O. Henry’s short story Gift of the Magi broke down the doors of screenplay structure in Bombay films by limiting the action of the whole movie to just one room of a dilapidated house where the two protagonists, once lovers, discuss the trajectory of their separate married lives.
It can be safely said that Bollywood is undergoing a period of experimentation when its filmstars, directors and musicians are no longer afraid of their own audiences. The cause for this new found boldness is pure economics. The purchasing power of young, urban, middle class Indians has increased quite dramatically in the last decade. This is the class which seeks to wear the same clothes, own the same gadgets and demands entertainment in the same manner as their counterparts anywhere else in the world. Cashing in on this phenomenon are sprawling urban multi-screen theatres with ticket prices starting at five – ten times their single-screen country cousins. This has meant that films no longer need to have universal appeal to recover costs of filmmaking or even make profits. Add to that the even higher spending capacity of the burgeoning Indian diaspora and its willingness to lap up all that Bollywood has to offer and then one begins to understand why Bombay films are changing. To put it simply, Bollywood no longer needs the India which cannot pay for it. It has 2 billion viewers from Morocco to Malaysia who more than make up for that.
Perhaps it is inaccurate to say that Bollywood has changed. To say that it has globalized is closer to the truth. And with this globalization, have come stories which are localized. It is a strange dichotomy which needs to be preserved if David has any chance of slaying Goliath.
“I don’t like the term Bollywood. We are the only surviving industry to Hollywood.….If you’re the only survivor to say Goliath, its nicer to be called David instead of lets say Boliath”
- Shah Rukh Khan
The adjective ‘arrogant’ is often used for Shah Rukh Khan. Yet, as Baadshah of Bollywood, he often finds himself in an ambassadorial role and tends to be more measured in his responses when they are representative of Bollywood or India. The comment in question, apart from being inaccurate (Latin American, Hong Kong and Chinese film industries are still flourishing) is, in many ways emblematic of the new confidence that a bold, young, consumerist, middle class India now possesses. In fact, if anything is a barometer of this confidence, it is the changing character of Bombay films from 2000 onwards.
It has been a longstanding criticism of Bombay films that they are genre ambiguous ‘masala’ films which are a potpourri of action, romance, drama, comedy. To see the character of a hoodlum involved in a street fight break out into song in the next scene may appear jarring to a new watcher of Bollywood films but is normal for a viewer acculturated to these movies. Add to the mix unnecessary songs and litany of characters and Bombay films begin to appear positively bewildering for a recent convert. When questioned about this aspect of Indian cinema, famous script writer, Sutanu Gupta said:
“(Indian) audiences have a very set belief in the kind of entertainment provided by cinema – they should see part of family life, romance, songs; they want everything. At the same time, they hate hodge podge films. They want to know whether it is an action film, a thriller, revenge or a ghost story or love story. It’s amazing!”
Despite this strong sense of what Indian audiences want, there has been a noticeable evolution in every aspect of Bombay films in the past decade or so. Where this trend has been the most noticeable is with the themes of recent movies. The run-of-the-mill boy meets girl, dances around trees and bashes up the bad guys routine has given way to more mature and thought provoking subject matter. Symbolic of this change was Rang De Basanti (2006), with its unsettling story about the political awakening and radicalization of jaded urban youth. Another lesser known 2006 film, Being Cyrus, completely in English and boasting of an A list star cast was a bizarre black comedy which defied convention and shocked audiences bred on morality tales. Ab Tak Chappan (2004), armed with the tagline “Doctors cure, engineers build, I kill” was a songless (yes, the unthinkable has happened!) film inspired by a real life Mumbai cop who, as an ‘encounter’ specialist shot dead 56 criminals. Omkara (2006), an adaptation of Othello to Uttar Pradesh’s rural milieu continued the process set in place by the same director in his equally brilliant Maqbool (2003), which adapted Macbeth to the setting of a Muslim gangster’s home. Raincoat (2005), inspired by O. Henry’s short story Gift of the Magi broke down the doors of screenplay structure in Bombay films by limiting the action of the whole movie to just one room of a dilapidated house where the two protagonists, once lovers, discuss the trajectory of their separate married lives.
It can be safely said that Bollywood is undergoing a period of experimentation when its filmstars, directors and musicians are no longer afraid of their own audiences. The cause for this new found boldness is pure economics. The purchasing power of young, urban, middle class Indians has increased quite dramatically in the last decade. This is the class which seeks to wear the same clothes, own the same gadgets and demands entertainment in the same manner as their counterparts anywhere else in the world. Cashing in on this phenomenon are sprawling urban multi-screen theatres with ticket prices starting at five – ten times their single-screen country cousins. This has meant that films no longer need to have universal appeal to recover costs of filmmaking or even make profits. Add to that the even higher spending capacity of the burgeoning Indian diaspora and its willingness to lap up all that Bollywood has to offer and then one begins to understand why Bombay films are changing. To put it simply, Bollywood no longer needs the India which cannot pay for it. It has 2 billion viewers from Morocco to Malaysia who more than make up for that.
Perhaps it is inaccurate to say that Bollywood has changed. To say that it has globalized is closer to the truth. And with this globalization, have come stories which are localized. It is a strange dichotomy which needs to be preserved if David has any chance of slaying Goliath.
