Long before I was exposed to Hollywood in a big way, I used to devour
Hindi films like no one else I knew, and there was hardly a film made in
my lifetime that I didn't know of. Bombay cinema has been a part of my life since before I can remember. I have been a remarkably keen observer of the industry and its cinema my entire life, and in all modesty, my knowledge of it, by layperson standards, borders on the encyclopedic.
The umpteen observations that I have made about the industry and its cinema have coalesced into a juggernaut that has gained a lot of momentum in the last few years, because despite the seemingly bright future that developments of the last decade promise, change in the industry has come at a glacial pace, since it takes two steps back for every three it takes forward. My theory for this, and the subject of this article, is that Bollywood is just plain, old-school feudal, and it is imperative that there is a transition to a less exploitative mode.
The industry looks a lot like the pyramid of feudalism, where those at the top are literally standing on the shoulders of those at the bottom. High atop the pyramid are the three mega-stars, exchanging positions every few years, bickering like teenagers about who the biggest star is, or alternatively, using a slightly less juvenile ploy called humility and saying that neither of them can compare to the biggest star of the industry - Amitabh Bachchan.
One of them has harped on the fact that he, unlike the other two, was an outsider in the industry for the first half of his career, but has spent the other half acting no differently than the average insider, which he can get away with, since he is now one of the richest actors, and one of the most influential people in the world. His stance on whether he is a "real actor" or just an "entertainer" changes depending on whether his last release insulted the audience's intelligence or not.
The other two are poster children for nepotism. Born into illustrious families of filmmakers, they entered the industry at laughably young ages, straight away as leads, or "heroes" as we like to call them. One of them, because of his higher level of intelligence, a much higher level of seriousness and commitment, and practice of a style of acting that had been in vogue in the industry for decades, quickly became recognised as a "real" actor. In recent years, however, his style of acting had begun to seem extremely dated, until last month, when his latest release restored some faith in his acting ability.
Then we have the reigning king who, just like the king of the jungle, belongs more in a circus than the film industry, but trifles such as the inability to act, or even to communicate without mime do not stop people from becoming mega-stars in B-town. Indeed, no one who has seen him in action for the last few years can deny that there is an uncanny similarity between Bollywood and western Europe circa 1200 A.D, where those who have absolutely no talent exploit the power they've inherited, get away with anything, and keep the lion's share of the profits.
Below these three on the pyramid, lie various other male stars, almost all of whom are related to one of the several Bollywood clans. The number of male actors that achieve stardom but are not connected to any of these clans is shockingly low. Like noble families, these clans rule with an iron fist, keeping outside challenges to their power in check. If one or two manage to slip through the cracks, relationships are forged by marriage, and they become part of the system.
The sense of entitlement of these star kids is appalling, but completely believable if they're seen as heirs to a fiefdom. When they go on talk shows and declare in their nauseatingly fake accents, that they carry the expectations of the world on their shoulders, that the struggles of the "commoners" do not compare to theirs, it is clear that their pea-sized brains cannot comprehend that their counterparts in other parts of the world, despite having the crucial element of talent, struggle for years, sometimes decades to achieve what their surnames have given them, and that a lot of these "commoners" would rape and pillage to get what they got at birth.
Then come the actresses, or "girls" as a lot of these superstars like to call them, blissfully unaware of how condescending and sexist they sound. There is not so much a glass ceiling in Bollywood as a concrete one. Female superstars are almost unheard of, and the only actress who came close to becoming one did so more due to her image as the "Dhak Dhak girl" than her acting skills, only to exit the industry in her early thirties to get married and have kids. Her efforts to make a comeback in recent years have failed, a constant reminder that as a woman in the industry, the only thing one has to offer is youth and beauty.
Countless successful films and years of work, and actresses still struggle to make even the smallest of dents in this stiflingly low concrete ceiling. Some of them are admittedly talentless, but no more so than their male counterparts, who achieve stardom overnight, get significantly bigger paychecks than them with less than half their experience, and always, always get top billing. It speaks volumes about the industry's blatant sexism that top actresses often make almost the same amount of money for a dance number at an award ceremony as they do for a lead role in a film.
While the system is undoubtedly to blame for this kind of sexism, part of the blame needs to go to the actresses themselves. It must be kept in mind that no matter how feudal the film industry is, power relations between the sexes here are not at the same level of disparity as they would be in another field. These actresses are extremely wealthy public figures, and therefore, have the means to at least try to right this imbalance. However, most of them, lacking any talent and having made their way into the industry purely on the basis of their looks and/or surname, choose not to do so lest they lose their 15 minutes of fame.
The industry's obsession with physical appearance is not limited to women. If you don't belong to a Bollywood clan, the only way you will become a 'lead actor' is if you are good looking. Those who do not fit the bill are doomed to be 'supporting' actors for the rest of their lives, no matter how talented they are, which is why the history of Bollywood is ridden with the graves of potentially incredible careers of brilliant actors.
All this talk of actors entails the risk of this article seeming too myopic and actor-centric. The average film viewer in this country hardly thinks beyond the actors and the music. The self-proclaimed film buffs who believe they're better often talk about directors. What everyone talks about, though, but doesn't really think carefully about, is a film's narrative.
Yes, narrative. Story. Script. Screenplay. Despite this country's obsession with stars and songs, which is carefully fuelled by the industry, the films that generally emerge as winners in the long run are the ones with the best stories, and regardless of which aspect of the film the average viewer talks about, the one that has the maximum impact is the writing.
Narrative cinema is the dominant form of cinema in the world, especially in this country. There is a reason why classical Hollywood, and even Bombay cinema, centred entirely on the narrative, because filmmakers in those days did not have the benefit of a million smokescreens, such as visual effects and mindless, high-octane action to fool the audience.
If a film's narrative is indeed so important, why is it that the average viewer in this country, or even the average film buff for that matter, hardly ever knows who the writer of a particular film is? It's because when the devil is in power, the greatest trick he can pull is to make you believe that angels don't exist. Indeed, it is not a coincidence that writers, the most important components of the filmmaking process, are the most badly treated community in Bollywood.
Just like the middle class threatened the absolute power of the aristocracy in the middle ages, writers have the power to change the film industry for better and for always. New ideas, deeper stories, and a more nuanced style of storytelling would demand changes that would expose the star-producer complex for what it really is - a fraternity of talentless nepotists. It is no wonder that those in power in Bollywood have created a system where being a writer is such an unappealing prospect.
To protect their vested interests, the Bollywood fraternity by and large has deliberately worked to keep writers on the fringes of the industry by giving very little value not only to the profession, but to the very idea of a good script. Whether it be star, producer, or director, members of this ruling class have shouted from the rooftops for years that cinema is a business, and since the primary goal of any business is to be financially profitable, the success of a film depends only and only on how much money it makes.
In all seriousness, the flowchart above does sum the industry up pretty nicely. The vicious cycle of awful cinema and a seemingly unalterable, oppressive power structure in the industry begins and ends with the injustices writers have to face in Bollywood. Their ideas and stories are often stolen by clan based production houses that get away with it. They're paid pittance compared to directors and actors, and are often blatantly denied credit for their work. The writer credit has become even less important in recent years, with things like "publicity design" taking precedence over it in a film's credit sequence.
Writers are not the only ones to be treated poorly in Bollywood. In fact, this is where the industry's feudal nature is most starkly visible, because apart from the stars, producers, and directors that belong to Bollywood clans and form the ruling class, professionals of any other field in the filmmaking process are no more than powerless peasants.
This is illustrated quite well by how much money and recognition the industry's singers get. For an industry that often depends entirely on music for the success of its films, singers are treated quite horribly. The money they make may seem like a lot to the average Indian, but it is not even remotely close to being enough considering how widely their songs are circulated, and that for a lot of films, the songs are the saving grace.
Even worse is how little recognition they get from people. The old axiom, "jo dikhta hai wahi bikta hai," comes into play here, aided and abetted by the industry's ruling class. Singers are not the most visible figures, sometimes because they're not attractive enough, and sometimes because it would simply not work for the powers that be if some of the real stars of cinema gained too much recognition among the masses. Remember that the next time you hear someone say "..that Shahrukh Khan song" or "Bhai ka gaana".
As I said before, change in the industry and its cinema has come at an extremely slow pace. Some of the real filmmakers who made their way in after struggling against the system for years had hoped that the golden age of Bollywood's box office would mean that a small part of those billions would also come their way, but have now realised that an economic boom without any devolution of power only means that the ruling class has become stronger than ever before.
While the big productions are routinely bringing in hundreds of crores, the fact remains that most films in Bombay still lose money. This stark contrast has made even the dumbest of superstars realise that it is because of their ability to pull crowds in that their films make the big bucks, and they have seized on this opportunity to take home the lion's share of these profits and become disproportionately, obscenely wealthy and powerful.
Just think about this for a second - an industry in which the some of the most expensive productions are budgeted at around 20 million dollars, a tiny amount compared to big Hollywood productions, is also home to the world's second richest actor. The outrageousness of that makes it crystal clear that this box office boom has almost entirely worked towards filling up the coffers of superstars and producers instead of being used to produce better cinema.
Why do these clans continue to rule Bombay without their authority ever coming into question? It is because of the audience that consumes the industry's cinema. This audience is often divided into the masses and the classes, a classification that is a little too simplistic, but does serve a purpose. While I cannot intelligently talk about all of the 'Indias', or target audiences that exist (just like B-town's rulers), there are some issues that I believe are common between a lot of these audiences, only one of which is that they don't have a very refined taste in cinema.
The idea of a clan based industry is very deeply engrained into the minds of Indian audiences, to the point where it doesn't even occur to us to question it. We seem to take for granted that sons and daughters of big stars and producers will succeed them, without ever really considering whether they deserve to or not, and even if they do, whether it should be in their early twenties as leads in the biggest productions, without having worked their way up.
A lot of these actors have pretty long careers despite the fact that their films do not succeed commercially, or even critically, simply because of their godfathers in the industry, and because if they do happen to give even one or two decent performances among twenty terrible ones, the naïve audiences actually believe that these actors "can act," as if merely the ability to act once in a blue moon entitles one to star in big productions and earn tens of crores. Well, I occasionally blog. Where is my Pulitzer?
It is unbelievable how much Indian audiences mollycoddle these talentless stars. A ten or twenty percent success rate is considered abysmal in most other professions, unless one is a professional pick-up artist, and yet so few people, even among the supposedly enlightened audiences, ask the all important question - should these "actors" even be in a film industry?
This question should be asked even for stars who have a higher success rate, because the truth is that the Bombay film industry is one of the most well known in the world, and in terms of the number of films produced, is also one of the biggest. Why should an industry that caters to over half a billion people be content with stars who are average, or even slightly above average actors? Why should these stars get acclaim for giving good performances in roles in which they just have to be themselves?
And then we have the double standards of Indian audiences, especially the classes. The scale on which stars are judged is completely different from the one used for judging non-stars, which works out very well for the former lot, as they can continue to compete in the kids' pool and get participation trophies. Great work by incredible actors who are forever destined to play supporting roles receives polite applause, whereas even an average performance by a star gets a standing ovation.
These double standards are not just limited to actors, but apply to Bombay cinema at large. Innovative art cinema is often dismissed as "arty-farty nonsense" by viewers who like the same kind of cinema as long as it is made in other countries. Urban viewers often look down upon extremely well made rustic films, but readily lap up mediocre "new-age" films simply because of their urban setting.
We also have the section of viewers who consume Bombay cinema, (because it would be politically incorrect not to) but are impossible to please, even though their taste when it comes to Hollywood cinema is absolutely atrocious. And then of course, there are viewers who never owned a dictionary and therefore, never learned that "different" doesn't mean "good", and that badly made films are not to be cheered frantically for just because they showcase "something new" or "something relevant".
The biggest culprit, however, is the class of viewers that consumes Bombay cinema quite voraciously, but is actually embarrassed of it on a pretty deep level. This leads to rationalisation, because they cannot seem to admit that they like films they know to be bad, and therefore, feel the need to argue that these films are actually good.
They constantly justify the presence of talentless stars in the industry by saying that they're actually good actors and do belong in the film world, simply because they cannot reconcile that part of them that likes these stars because of looks, 'charisma', or other such things, with the part that wants to believe that they have good taste.
Who is to blame for the sad state of cinema in Bombay? On one hand, there is a feudal film industry dominated by those who don't even deserve to be there, but have created a system almost unfit for any creative work, only to keep themselves in power. On the other, there is a brainwashed audience that cannot even think beyond what Bollywood's ruling class wants them to think, and is so starved for good cinema that it has forgotten what it looks like.
What does the future hold? I cannot say for sure, but after having spent a year in Bombay and listening to some true filmmakers and other unsung heroes of the industry who have been fighting for change at the grass-root level, both in terms of approach to cinema and the power structure of the industry, I'm hopeful that change, however slow, will come to the industry, and one day, it will not be referred to by a moniker as insulting as "Bollywood".
The umpteen observations that I have made about the industry and its cinema have coalesced into a juggernaut that has gained a lot of momentum in the last few years, because despite the seemingly bright future that developments of the last decade promise, change in the industry has come at a glacial pace, since it takes two steps back for every three it takes forward. My theory for this, and the subject of this article, is that Bollywood is just plain, old-school feudal, and it is imperative that there is a transition to a less exploitative mode.
The industry looks a lot like the pyramid of feudalism, where those at the top are literally standing on the shoulders of those at the bottom. High atop the pyramid are the three mega-stars, exchanging positions every few years, bickering like teenagers about who the biggest star is, or alternatively, using a slightly less juvenile ploy called humility and saying that neither of them can compare to the biggest star of the industry - Amitabh Bachchan.
One of them has harped on the fact that he, unlike the other two, was an outsider in the industry for the first half of his career, but has spent the other half acting no differently than the average insider, which he can get away with, since he is now one of the richest actors, and one of the most influential people in the world. His stance on whether he is a "real actor" or just an "entertainer" changes depending on whether his last release insulted the audience's intelligence or not.
The other two are poster children for nepotism. Born into illustrious families of filmmakers, they entered the industry at laughably young ages, straight away as leads, or "heroes" as we like to call them. One of them, because of his higher level of intelligence, a much higher level of seriousness and commitment, and practice of a style of acting that had been in vogue in the industry for decades, quickly became recognised as a "real" actor. In recent years, however, his style of acting had begun to seem extremely dated, until last month, when his latest release restored some faith in his acting ability.
Then we have the reigning king who, just like the king of the jungle, belongs more in a circus than the film industry, but trifles such as the inability to act, or even to communicate without mime do not stop people from becoming mega-stars in B-town. Indeed, no one who has seen him in action for the last few years can deny that there is an uncanny similarity between Bollywood and western Europe circa 1200 A.D, where those who have absolutely no talent exploit the power they've inherited, get away with anything, and keep the lion's share of the profits.
Below these three on the pyramid, lie various other male stars, almost all of whom are related to one of the several Bollywood clans. The number of male actors that achieve stardom but are not connected to any of these clans is shockingly low. Like noble families, these clans rule with an iron fist, keeping outside challenges to their power in check. If one or two manage to slip through the cracks, relationships are forged by marriage, and they become part of the system.
The sense of entitlement of these star kids is appalling, but completely believable if they're seen as heirs to a fiefdom. When they go on talk shows and declare in their nauseatingly fake accents, that they carry the expectations of the world on their shoulders, that the struggles of the "commoners" do not compare to theirs, it is clear that their pea-sized brains cannot comprehend that their counterparts in other parts of the world, despite having the crucial element of talent, struggle for years, sometimes decades to achieve what their surnames have given them, and that a lot of these "commoners" would rape and pillage to get what they got at birth.
Then come the actresses, or "girls" as a lot of these superstars like to call them, blissfully unaware of how condescending and sexist they sound. There is not so much a glass ceiling in Bollywood as a concrete one. Female superstars are almost unheard of, and the only actress who came close to becoming one did so more due to her image as the "Dhak Dhak girl" than her acting skills, only to exit the industry in her early thirties to get married and have kids. Her efforts to make a comeback in recent years have failed, a constant reminder that as a woman in the industry, the only thing one has to offer is youth and beauty.
Countless successful films and years of work, and actresses still struggle to make even the smallest of dents in this stiflingly low concrete ceiling. Some of them are admittedly talentless, but no more so than their male counterparts, who achieve stardom overnight, get significantly bigger paychecks than them with less than half their experience, and always, always get top billing. It speaks volumes about the industry's blatant sexism that top actresses often make almost the same amount of money for a dance number at an award ceremony as they do for a lead role in a film.
While the system is undoubtedly to blame for this kind of sexism, part of the blame needs to go to the actresses themselves. It must be kept in mind that no matter how feudal the film industry is, power relations between the sexes here are not at the same level of disparity as they would be in another field. These actresses are extremely wealthy public figures, and therefore, have the means to at least try to right this imbalance. However, most of them, lacking any talent and having made their way into the industry purely on the basis of their looks and/or surname, choose not to do so lest they lose their 15 minutes of fame.
The industry's obsession with physical appearance is not limited to women. If you don't belong to a Bollywood clan, the only way you will become a 'lead actor' is if you are good looking. Those who do not fit the bill are doomed to be 'supporting' actors for the rest of their lives, no matter how talented they are, which is why the history of Bollywood is ridden with the graves of potentially incredible careers of brilliant actors.
All this talk of actors entails the risk of this article seeming too myopic and actor-centric. The average film viewer in this country hardly thinks beyond the actors and the music. The self-proclaimed film buffs who believe they're better often talk about directors. What everyone talks about, though, but doesn't really think carefully about, is a film's narrative.
Yes, narrative. Story. Script. Screenplay. Despite this country's obsession with stars and songs, which is carefully fuelled by the industry, the films that generally emerge as winners in the long run are the ones with the best stories, and regardless of which aspect of the film the average viewer talks about, the one that has the maximum impact is the writing.
Narrative cinema is the dominant form of cinema in the world, especially in this country. There is a reason why classical Hollywood, and even Bombay cinema, centred entirely on the narrative, because filmmakers in those days did not have the benefit of a million smokescreens, such as visual effects and mindless, high-octane action to fool the audience.
If a film's narrative is indeed so important, why is it that the average viewer in this country, or even the average film buff for that matter, hardly ever knows who the writer of a particular film is? It's because when the devil is in power, the greatest trick he can pull is to make you believe that angels don't exist. Indeed, it is not a coincidence that writers, the most important components of the filmmaking process, are the most badly treated community in Bollywood.
Just like the middle class threatened the absolute power of the aristocracy in the middle ages, writers have the power to change the film industry for better and for always. New ideas, deeper stories, and a more nuanced style of storytelling would demand changes that would expose the star-producer complex for what it really is - a fraternity of talentless nepotists. It is no wonder that those in power in Bollywood have created a system where being a writer is such an unappealing prospect.
To protect their vested interests, the Bollywood fraternity by and large has deliberately worked to keep writers on the fringes of the industry by giving very little value not only to the profession, but to the very idea of a good script. Whether it be star, producer, or director, members of this ruling class have shouted from the rooftops for years that cinema is a business, and since the primary goal of any business is to be financially profitable, the success of a film depends only and only on how much money it makes.
Writers are not the only ones to be treated poorly in Bollywood. In fact, this is where the industry's feudal nature is most starkly visible, because apart from the stars, producers, and directors that belong to Bollywood clans and form the ruling class, professionals of any other field in the filmmaking process are no more than powerless peasants.
This is illustrated quite well by how much money and recognition the industry's singers get. For an industry that often depends entirely on music for the success of its films, singers are treated quite horribly. The money they make may seem like a lot to the average Indian, but it is not even remotely close to being enough considering how widely their songs are circulated, and that for a lot of films, the songs are the saving grace.
Even worse is how little recognition they get from people. The old axiom, "jo dikhta hai wahi bikta hai," comes into play here, aided and abetted by the industry's ruling class. Singers are not the most visible figures, sometimes because they're not attractive enough, and sometimes because it would simply not work for the powers that be if some of the real stars of cinema gained too much recognition among the masses. Remember that the next time you hear someone say "..that Shahrukh Khan song" or "Bhai ka gaana".
As I said before, change in the industry and its cinema has come at an extremely slow pace. Some of the real filmmakers who made their way in after struggling against the system for years had hoped that the golden age of Bollywood's box office would mean that a small part of those billions would also come their way, but have now realised that an economic boom without any devolution of power only means that the ruling class has become stronger than ever before.
While the big productions are routinely bringing in hundreds of crores, the fact remains that most films in Bombay still lose money. This stark contrast has made even the dumbest of superstars realise that it is because of their ability to pull crowds in that their films make the big bucks, and they have seized on this opportunity to take home the lion's share of these profits and become disproportionately, obscenely wealthy and powerful.
Just think about this for a second - an industry in which the some of the most expensive productions are budgeted at around 20 million dollars, a tiny amount compared to big Hollywood productions, is also home to the world's second richest actor. The outrageousness of that makes it crystal clear that this box office boom has almost entirely worked towards filling up the coffers of superstars and producers instead of being used to produce better cinema.
Why do these clans continue to rule Bombay without their authority ever coming into question? It is because of the audience that consumes the industry's cinema. This audience is often divided into the masses and the classes, a classification that is a little too simplistic, but does serve a purpose. While I cannot intelligently talk about all of the 'Indias', or target audiences that exist (just like B-town's rulers), there are some issues that I believe are common between a lot of these audiences, only one of which is that they don't have a very refined taste in cinema.
The idea of a clan based industry is very deeply engrained into the minds of Indian audiences, to the point where it doesn't even occur to us to question it. We seem to take for granted that sons and daughters of big stars and producers will succeed them, without ever really considering whether they deserve to or not, and even if they do, whether it should be in their early twenties as leads in the biggest productions, without having worked their way up.
A lot of these actors have pretty long careers despite the fact that their films do not succeed commercially, or even critically, simply because of their godfathers in the industry, and because if they do happen to give even one or two decent performances among twenty terrible ones, the naïve audiences actually believe that these actors "can act," as if merely the ability to act once in a blue moon entitles one to star in big productions and earn tens of crores. Well, I occasionally blog. Where is my Pulitzer?
It is unbelievable how much Indian audiences mollycoddle these talentless stars. A ten or twenty percent success rate is considered abysmal in most other professions, unless one is a professional pick-up artist, and yet so few people, even among the supposedly enlightened audiences, ask the all important question - should these "actors" even be in a film industry?
This question should be asked even for stars who have a higher success rate, because the truth is that the Bombay film industry is one of the most well known in the world, and in terms of the number of films produced, is also one of the biggest. Why should an industry that caters to over half a billion people be content with stars who are average, or even slightly above average actors? Why should these stars get acclaim for giving good performances in roles in which they just have to be themselves?
And then we have the double standards of Indian audiences, especially the classes. The scale on which stars are judged is completely different from the one used for judging non-stars, which works out very well for the former lot, as they can continue to compete in the kids' pool and get participation trophies. Great work by incredible actors who are forever destined to play supporting roles receives polite applause, whereas even an average performance by a star gets a standing ovation.
These double standards are not just limited to actors, but apply to Bombay cinema at large. Innovative art cinema is often dismissed as "arty-farty nonsense" by viewers who like the same kind of cinema as long as it is made in other countries. Urban viewers often look down upon extremely well made rustic films, but readily lap up mediocre "new-age" films simply because of their urban setting.
We also have the section of viewers who consume Bombay cinema, (because it would be politically incorrect not to) but are impossible to please, even though their taste when it comes to Hollywood cinema is absolutely atrocious. And then of course, there are viewers who never owned a dictionary and therefore, never learned that "different" doesn't mean "good", and that badly made films are not to be cheered frantically for just because they showcase "something new" or "something relevant".
The biggest culprit, however, is the class of viewers that consumes Bombay cinema quite voraciously, but is actually embarrassed of it on a pretty deep level. This leads to rationalisation, because they cannot seem to admit that they like films they know to be bad, and therefore, feel the need to argue that these films are actually good.
They constantly justify the presence of talentless stars in the industry by saying that they're actually good actors and do belong in the film world, simply because they cannot reconcile that part of them that likes these stars because of looks, 'charisma', or other such things, with the part that wants to believe that they have good taste.
Who is to blame for the sad state of cinema in Bombay? On one hand, there is a feudal film industry dominated by those who don't even deserve to be there, but have created a system almost unfit for any creative work, only to keep themselves in power. On the other, there is a brainwashed audience that cannot even think beyond what Bollywood's ruling class wants them to think, and is so starved for good cinema that it has forgotten what it looks like.
What does the future hold? I cannot say for sure, but after having spent a year in Bombay and listening to some true filmmakers and other unsung heroes of the industry who have been fighting for change at the grass-root level, both in terms of approach to cinema and the power structure of the industry, I'm hopeful that change, however slow, will come to the industry, and one day, it will not be referred to by a moniker as insulting as "Bollywood".
