There’s a lovely story about a group of AR Rahman fans who spent many sleepless nights coding software so as to be able to create a montage of thumbnail images of all his album covers, which formed the contours of his face. Acknowledging their perseverance, Rahman and his team decided to collaborate with them to organise concerts worldwide, evolve new ways to distribute music and tackle piracy. It’s anecdotes like this and trivial bits of information on the film industry in Bombay that make this anthology an interesting read.
Of course, the larger purpose of this collection of essays is to document and analyse the arrival of Bollywood on the global stage—to try and understand, among other things, how much of an influence the Indian diaspora has on the kind of films that are made, how the relationship between state institutions and industry is changing with increasing corporatisation, or how western aesthetics have altered Indian film music expectations.
Advancements in digital and satellite technology have only made it easier for more Hindi films to be shown abroad. Along with this, the industry has become more corporatised, with some help from the government which now believes in the export potential of this business. Although much of the funding may still come from “questionable” sources, IDBI’s decision to finance films has made a difference. For producers, globalisation has meant more revenue streams, especially the lucrative overseas market, but given that for most of them it’s the Indian audience that’s the primary market, it seems it will be a while before more directors experiment with “crossover” themes.
In between discussing whether more Indian directors will make crossover films and how much of a convergence there has been in cultural production between Hollywood and Bollywood, the writers also weave in some historical and contemporary perspective for readers, whether on film journalism or music.
The essay on Deewar, a watershed film for the industry and its lead actor Amitabh Bachchan, captures very nicely the social milieu at the time reflecting the political turbulence of the early seventies, the militancy of trade unionists and the power of the underworld. The root cause for the protagonist’s anger against “a generalised power network unleashing everyday humiliation against the disenfranchised millions” is well analysed as are the reasons for the film’s appeal across a diverse audience, which lay in its several strands—the class politics, sympathetic representation of the working class, traditional values and, of course, melodrama.
The essay on music details how emotions like love have been played up through songs and how the use of different ragas has helped set the mood. The structure of songs, the author says, has remained much the same through the years with the use of violin flourishes or segments with stringed instruments. Of late, though, with more films reaching out to international audiences, the music has begun to absorb outside influences, creating the “sonic appearance of a westernised sound”.
In terms of content, there’s an exploration of whether violence has been presented more as an aberration of human nature or whether it is “naturalised” as something inevitable. The author believes that while the ways in which Indian cinema represents violence may be crude and jingoistic, they are actually closer to some of the main philosophical precepts of non-violence. Even with characters like Mogambo, the author reasons, it is possible to “discern a set of concerns and constraints in their moral universe, that resonate with the philosophy of non-violence.”
Film journalism is not a subject that has had much space devoted to it, so it’s interesting to revisit the success of Stardust. The magazine, modelled on the lines of the American Photoplay, and launched by the 23-year-old Shobha Rajadhyaksha (later De) with just a paste-up man in an “unglamourous” office, is believed to have more appeal than its competitors because its gossip has more “bite”. Furthermore, the author delves into the psyche of male and female readers, how they respond to articles and empathise with the stars, questioning the assumption that film magazines are published to titillate bored middle class metropolitan housewives.
The book isn’t always an easy read, the sentences tend to be long-winded and the text verbose, but there is a whole lot of information that could be useful to someone looking for both context and perspective. Also, an update capturing recent trends such as the entry of foreign studios in Hindi filmmaking, the numerous foreign financial investors and events such as the ADAG’s teaming up with Steven Spielberg and the success of Slumdog Millionaire, would be helpful. The action is only just beginning.
GLOBAL BOLLYWOOD
Ed Anandam P Kavoori & Aswin Punathambekar
Oxford University Press
Rs 695; 305 pages
