PICTURE ABHI BAAKI HAI
Bollywood as a Guide to Modern India
Rachel Dwyer
Hachette; 295 pages; Rs 499
Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi is back. But he is not the historical, political Gandhi as we know him, one who urged us to shun consumerism. This Gandhi from the 2006 film Lage Raho Munna Bhai is the Gandhi of India's new, confident and assertive middle class. He is "an inner conscience" and a "moral guide", even a "fairy godmother".
India has changed at dizzying pace since its economic liberalisation in 1991, and with it has changed the depiction of histories and historical figures, such as Gandhi, in Indian cinema. So has the portrayal of religion, emotions, wealth and personal struggles. One way of comprehending this complex growth story of India, which is a maze of several interlinked and conflicting stories playing out together, is through cinema. That's precisely what Rachel Dwyer, professor of Indian cultures and cinema at SOAS in London, attempts to do through Picture Abhi Baaki Hai: Bollywood as a Guide to Modern India. A clever title, it applies well to both Bollywood and India, each of which draws from the other.
Now, it would be tempting to look at Hindi cinema as a direct and out-and-out reflection of Indian society. Thankfully, the author does not fall into that trap and instead, wisely chooses to look at cinema as a medium that imagines society as it is and as how it should be. The time period she has picked for her study is critical. Picture Abhi Baaki Hai concentrates on films released from 1991, at the start of liberalisation, to July 2013, and falls back on earlier films, including iconic black-and-whites, only to draw a comparison with the contemporary.
The research and reflection that has gone into understanding the trajectory - and several parallel trajectories - of Hindi cinema, which is largely north Indian cinema, is evident right from the beginning when Ms Dwyer tries to comprehend the idea of Indianness as reflected and accepted in Bollywood. Is one's Indianness defined by being born in India? Or, by one's belief in "Indian values"? And can one stop being Indian? She looks for these answers through the movies.
A scrutiny of how post-liberalisation cinema negotiates the sensitivities of religion and politics also throws up some disturbing realisations. In the segment titled "The Islamicate Film", Ms Dwyer observes and records the marked shift in certain portrayals and what they indicate. She writes, "While the historical Islamicate films and the courtesan films evoke a world of exquisite refinement in dress, as well as in other features, in more recent Islamicate films, modern Muslim women are associated predominantly with veils, rather than with fashionable clothing suitable for Muslim women, while beards and caps now mark men as fanatics, unlike in older films, where they simply meant 'Muslim'. This shift from beautiful and exotic, even erotic, dress to clothing marking religious extremism has to be viewed as part of the wider transformations within Islamicate cinema which in turn relate to changing values about religion and religious communities."
Bollywood's study of society and political events also steers clear of the uncomfortable. The silence of mainstream cinema on "Hindu terrorism, dowry deaths, caste violence, riots or domestic abuse" speaks loudly in the book. Some significant political events too seem to have fallen on Bollywood's blind spot. The 2002 events in Gujarat, for example, feature only in documentaries and "realistic", that is non-Bollywood, films, such as Firaaq and Parzania, observes Ms Dwyer. Breaking this silence are two directors - Anurag Kashyap and Prakash Jha - through films such as Black Friday, which had several run-ins with the censor board, and Gangaajal about the Bhagalpur blindings.
There are other critical observations, too. For example, Bollywood is said to be one of the most egalitarian of Indian industries. True, there is no mention of caste in Hindi cinema. But then how do we explain upper-caste North Indian, and often Punjabi Khatri, names such as Khanna and Malhotra dominating big-budget Bollywood blockbusters? And the fact that there is no big Dalit or OBC (Other Backward Classes) star in this very democratic film industry? "Dalits," observes Ms Dwyer, "usually feature only in 'political' films such as those of Prakash Jha."
Also, where do the mofussil towns stand in this wide cinematic narrative? Nowhere actually, unless, of course, these have a burgeoning middle class. That is because over the period covered in the book, Ms Dwyer says, "big-budget Bollywood films have become part of the metropolitan imaginary, open to those who are or who aspire to be metropolitan but far removed from the mofussil towns".
The transformation in the language of Hindi cinema also serves as a guide to modern India. Remember Mughal-e-Azam in which the Hindus spoke Sanskritised Hindi and Muslim rulers spoke Urdu liberally sprinkled with Farsi? Today, "mainstream Indian cinema is not interested in promoting any language in particular but wants to reach the widest audience possible", says the author. Hence, the popularity of "Hinglish" (a combination of Hindi and English). There is, however, no ignoring the importance of the knowledge of English in modern India. Many Indians today are convinced that there is no getting anywhere without English, the global language. This need to know the language to improve one's self-esteem was wonderfully captured in English Vinglish.
The transformation of colleges and universities as the perfect settings for finding romance to places where you also find yourself is also visible in cinema today. The angry, restless youth questioning corruption and complacency - a reflection of the Anna Hazare movement - too is cinematically recorded.
Ms Dwyer has kept a close eye on India - its society, its economy, its aspirations and its new middle class. And by watching, re-watching and re-re-watching some defining and some hatke (offbeat) Hindi films, she has come to the conclusion that this is perhaps the best way to understand contemporary India. She writes about this imaginary and imagined world that both draws from and dictates reality in the hope that no one will ever say to her again that Hindi films are "unrealistic". Through Picture Abhi Baaki Hai, she rests her case.
