A nostalgic sweep across 80 years reaps classics without generic bias, but is Hindi-heavy
Nostalgia does not play a part when it comes to Indian films. We do not have revival cinema houses; we do not watch our black-and-white classics on television. The DVDs of old films—Awara, Andaz, Anand—do not sell the way copies Casablanca or Gone With the Wind sell. For that reason alone, any book that brings back memories of films of the past is always welcome.
M.K. Raghavendra’s 50 Indian Film Classics is not a selection of our best fifty films. Such a presumption on the part of the author would have been audacious, if not reckless. Instead, he has brought together a collection of essays on fifty films that he considers are representative of Indian cinema, films that made a difference.
These are his personal choices but they are good. The films enjoyed critical or popular success when they were released and influenced later filmmakers. The author belongs to the Chidananda Dasgupta school of film criticism. He is erudite, sensible and readable. Not many of our critics can write some fifteen hundred words on a film and still hold our attention!
He begins with Frank Osten’s Prem Sanyas (1925), one of the few films from the silent era that still survive in its entirety. He ends with Rakeysh Mehra’s Rang De Basanti (2006)—a range of eighty years. Not all the films chosen are in Hindi. He has found space for some important regional films such as Sant Tukaram (Marathi), Parasakthi (Tamil) and Mukhamukham (Malayalam).
However, he focuses on Hindi films. He points out that they bind the country together and often people who have little understanding of Hindi watch them. The filmmakers keep that in mind and the dialogue is invariably simple so that a Gujarati or Bengali can grasp the key words in several lines and have an idea of the story as it unfolds on the screen.
Hindi films have other attractive attributes besides their simplicity. They are tolerant of minorities; they espouse the secular cause. The motives of producers are not entirely altruistic. Our Muslims are fervent moviegoers; there are no major releases during their fasting weeks. While Hindi films dominate the market, only twenty-five per cent of our films are made in the national language.
I do not intend to quibble with Raghavendra’s choice but, in my view, Dilip Kumar’s Ganga Jumna (1959) and Aditya Chopra’s Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge (1995) deserved a place on his list. Both these films were hugely influential and triggered many imitations. I would have chosen Bimal Roy’s Do Bigha Zameen (1953) instead of the subsequent Bandini ((1963). It was a better film, besides having more of an impact. Finally, I am surprised that the author has ignored altogether the ‘stunt’ genre. The Fearless Nadia/ Homi Wadia style was a rage seventy years ago.
The films he has chosen for scrutiny include the obvious ones—Pather Panchali, Mother India, Mughal-e-Azam, and Lagaan. The author is not elitist. Amar Akbar Anthony is also here, the ultimate masala movie that had miracles, absurd coincidences and brothers separated in childhood. Raghavendra describes it as “one of the boldest exercises in storytelling in popular Indian cinema”. Producer-director Manmohan Desai never came close to repeating its success and, after a string of flops, committed suicide.
Raghavendra has one weakness—a liking for the “new Indian cinema”, films of the 1960s that were financed by the government and aspired to be works of art. Almost all of them were painful to watch and never managed to find an audience. The “middle cinema” that followed in the early 1970s was better and I am glad to see that he has found a place in his collection for Shyam Benegal’s Ankur and M.S. Sathyu’s Garam Hawa.
The author notes that India has the distinction of being the world’s largest producer of films. It overtook Japan and the United States some years ago. Their popularity, however, is restricted to the people of the subcontinent, at home and abroad. Indian films are also an acquired taste. Films from countries like Iran, South Korea and Taiwan do better in the international market. The French, in particular, have a distaste for Indian films. They rarely make it to the main competition at the Cannes film festival.
There is a reason why Indian cinema remains something of a pariah. As Raghavendra explains, they are very long; they have songs and dances that have no connection with the story. They are melodramatic and there are numerous subplots. Finally, the only subject that attracts our filmmakers and audiences is romance.