Filmi*

From the Golden Age of the 1950s to Bollywood today, Indian films have come a long way. They are bigger, but are they better?

In the opening sequence of the 1955 classic Shree 420, Raj Kapoor (both director and actor) who is playing the lovable ordinary man – a character inspired by Charlie Chaplin’s tramp – walks down a path that leads to the big, bad city singing what is certainly Bombay Cinema’s anthem to Indians:

“Mera Jota Hai Japanee, Yeh Patloon Englistanee, Sur Pe Lal Topee Rusee, Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani.” (My shoe is made in Japan, pants are from England, my red hat is Russian, but still my heart is Indian.)

In the film, Kapoor’s innocent villager lives by his charm, first winning over the city’s poor and homeless, and then walking into the evil, dark world of the corrupt and wealthy people who make a fine living at the expense of the less fortunate. By the end of the film, he exposes the corrupt and moves back in with the poor. The film was packed with catchy songs, romance, moments of heartbreak, stunning black-and-white cinematography and charming performances. It has stood the test of time and is still cherished 55 years after its release.

Shree 420 was made eight years after India’s independence. The nation was young and there was a lot of hope inspired by the leadership of India’s first Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. The young nation went through phases of socialist ideals and economic planning systems, all with the effort to improve the lives of those who lived below the poverty line in the urban and rural areas.

That sense of hope and inspiration was reflected in the films of that time – an era often referred to as the Golden Age of India’s popular Hindi language cinema, long before the film industry became identified as a globalised product and defined as Bollywood. The Hindi language Bombay Cinema of that era was India focused, rejecting the West as it was closely associated with the 200 years of colonial rule. Instead, the films explored the host of issues that the young nation grappled with. And even if Western elements crept into the story line – such as the night club scene that starts the downward spiral of Kapoor’s character in Shree 420 – the films made it abundantly clear that Indian values represented all that was good and right.

The script for Shree 420 was written by KA Abbas – a progressive writer who had contacts with the Communist Party of India. It’s no wonder Kapoor’s early films with Abbas – Awara (1951) and Shree 420 – both romantic musicals with strong social messages, were huge successes in the Soviet Union and the rest of the East European block. Kapoor and his stunning lead Nargis were also popular in the Middle East, Africa and even in Mexico. These films were considered a reflection of new India’s art and culture and not just a product marketed and sold for the global audience.

Raj Kapoor worked at a time characterised by a confluence of talented actors and filmmakers and critics say that the nuances of storytelling and the depth of these stories remain unmatched. Kapoor had a number of brilliant contemporaries including Guru Dutt who, after making a series of comic musicals, directed two soulful, personal films – Pyaasa (1955) and Kagaz Ke Phool (1959). Pyaasa included another anthem, the song, Jinhe Naaz Hai Hind Par Woh Kahan Hai? (Where are the people who take pride in India?)

These two films, especially Kagaz Ke Phool, did not succeed at the box office and Dutt had to compromise and produce films that were more commercially viable. But despite the box office highs and lows, he made his films at a time when the Bombay Cinema was at its creative best.

Mehboob Khan directed Mother India in 1957 – an epic film about one woman’s struggle for justice. Often compared to Gone With The Wind, Mother India received an Oscar nomination in the foreign language category – a first for India – and its lead Nargis won the best actress award at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival.

K Asif directed an even bigger production, Mughal-e-Azam (1960), a grand, operatic film with huge sets and powerful dialogues that explored the doomed love affair between Prince Salim and a courtesan named Anarkali. The film starred Raj Kapoor’s contemporary Dilip Kumar and the iconic Indian screen beauty Madhubala in the lead. Kapoor’s father Prithviraj Kapoor played the dramatic role of Emperor Akbar who forbids the relationship between his only son and a professional dancing girl.

As the young nation moved from the 1960s to the early 1970s, the promises made at the time of independence began to appear as mere political slogans. By late 1960s India was an adult – over 21 years old and the innocence had transformed into disappointment and anger.

The popular Hindi cinema caught up with the times. The writing duo – Javed Akhtar and Salim Khan – created the character of an angry young man for movies like Zanzeer (1973) and Deewar (1975). The role was perfectly suited for a tall, lanky actor with brooding looks and a deep voice; Amitabh Bachchan the superstar was born and films became angrier, more violent, although still hugely popular with the masses.

At the same time though, another remarkable trend started in Indian cinema (this time not just in the Hindi language films) – the “new wave” or “parallel films,” mostly funded by government financing and with directors and actors who had been trained at the Pune Film Institute, a government-run graduate school. The films that emerged from this period also focused on issues related to social realism, poverty, corruption and the treatment of untouchables and women – both in rural areas and the cities. This period saw films by directors like Shyam Benegal (Ankur, Manthan, Bhumika), Govind Nihlani (Aakrosh, Ardh Satya) as well as more experimental works by Mani Kaul (Uski Roti, Duvidha).

There was a big difference between these films and those of the 1950s and 1960s. The earlier films of Raj Kapoor and Bimal Roy maintained a number of parallel tracks – songs, music, comedy and romance, along with the social messages. The “new wave,” or “parallel” films were closer to reality, often starring actors trained in theatre or the film institute. They were hired for projects based on their acting abilities and not for their movie star looks.

But the parallel cinema – while popular at film festivals and winning national awards, never received theatrical success. The single theatres in major metropolitan cities could not attract a large enough audience to view these films and the only medium to play them was Doordarshan, the government-run television station. Poor economics resulted in fewer projects being financed, until the productions stopped and by the early 1980s the parallel cinema movement died an unfortunate death.

In the 1980s, the arrival of video-tapes led to concerns about piracy – an issue that Bombay’s film industry still struggles with. But the 1980s was also creatively a low point for the Hindi language film industry.

The next decade witnessed the freeing of the Indian economy from the shackles of the tired socialist system. As the economy liberalised in the 1990s, another trend began to emerge – India and the Indian slowly became a global entity. Bombay’s mostly inward looking film industry jumped onto this global bandwagon, wanting to become a player in this field. At the same time, Hindi film producers noticed the emergence of the non-resident Indian (NRI) markets in the SA, UK and US. And hence Bollywood was born – a cinema that attempted to reflect the reality of that time.

In 1998 the Indian government for the first time declared the film business as an industry. This opened opportunities for banks and other financial institutions to invest in film production. Today’s Bollywood industry is run by legitimate studios – BIG Pictures, UTV, Dharma Productions – with regular scripts, budgets and proper tracking of accounting. For the brief period in the late 1990s Bombay’s shady underworld made inroads into Bollywood, but all of that is past history.

Filmmakers like Yash Chopra and Karan Johar and their production houses created films that tried to capture a modernising India. The global Indian star – often played by actors like Shahrukh Khan, now travelled through Europe or walked on the streets of New York, but also wore Western brands while in Bombay. The innocent and quieter songs and love stories of the Golden Age of the Bombay Cinema were replaced by elaborate production numbers where the stars dressed up in gaudy costumes and displayed Western dancing skills. Violence, action and car chase sequences, replaced the social issues of the 1950s and 1960s.

The new audiences – especially those in the Indian diaspora in UK and US loved these films. Box office success of films such as Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, Pardes and Kabhi Khushi, Kabhie Gham led to several imitations. The process and the evolution continue, as the same filmmakers are now seeking to make films that will also cross over with the mainstream audience in Western countries.

Sixty-three years after independence, India has evolved and changed substantially, often beyond recognition.

Change is inevitable and the journey of popular Hindi films from Bombay Cinema to Bollywood seems natural. But in the process the new Bollywood films have lost a lot. For lovers of Indian films, especially fans of today’s Bollywood, an occasional visit to the films of Raj Kapoor, Guru Dutt and others of that era is a strong reminder of how good things were during that Golden Age.

Aseem Chhabra is a freelance writer based in New York City. He writes a weekly column for Mumbai Mirror, and has been published in The New York Times, The Boston Globe and The Philadelphia Inquirer. He is a board member of the South Asian Journalists Association.

In the opening sequence of the 1955 classic Shree 420, Raj Kapoor (both director and actor) who is playing the lovable ordinary man – a character inspired by Charlie Chaplin’s tramp – walks down a path that leads to the big, bad city singing what is certainly Bombay Cinema’s anthem to Indians:

“Mera Jota Hai Japanee, Yeh Patloon Englistanee, Sur Pe Lal Topee Rusee, Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani.” (My shoe is made in Japan, pants are from England, my red hat is Russian, but still my heart is Indian.)

In the film, Kapoor’s innocent villager lives by his charm, first winning over the city’s poor and homeless, and then walking into the evil, dark world of the corrupt and wealthy people who make a fine living at the expense of the less fortunate. By the end of the film, he exposes the corrupt and moves back in with the poor. The film was packed with catchy songs, romance, moments of heartbreak, stunning black-and-white cinematography and charming performances. It has stood the test of time and is still cherished 55 years after its release.

Shree 420 was made eight years after India’s independence. The nation was young and there was a lot of hope inspired by the leadership of India’s first Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. The young nation went through phases of socialist ideals and economic planning systems, all with the effort to improve the lives of those who lived below the poverty line in the urban and rural areas.

That sense of hope and inspiration was reflected in the films of that time – an era often referred to as the Golden Age of India’s popular Hindi language cinema, long before the film industry became identified as a globalised product and defined as Bollywood. The Hindi language Bombay Cinema of that era was India focused, rejecting the West as it was closely associated with the 200 years of colonial rule. Instead, the films explored the host of issues that the young nation grappled with. And even if Western elements crept into the story line – such as the night club scene that starts the downward spiral of Kapoor’s character in Shree 420 – the films made it abundantly clear that Indian values represented all that was good and right.

The script for Shree 420 was written by KA Abbas – a progressive writer who had contacts with the Communist Party of India. It’s no wonder Kapoor’s early films with Abbas – Awara (1951) and Shree 420 – both romantic musicals with strong social messages, were huge successes in the Soviet Union and the rest of the East European block. Kapoor and his stunning lead Nargis were also popular in the Middle East, Africa and even in Mexico. These films were considered a reflection of new India’s art and culture and not just a product marketed and sold for the global audience.

Raj Kapoor worked at a time characterised by a confluence of talented actors and filmmakers and critics say that the nuances of storytelling and the depth of these stories remain unmatched. Kapoor had a number of brilliant contemporaries including Guru Dutt who, after making a series of comic musicals, directed two soulful, personal films – Pyaasa (1955) and Kagaz Ke Phool (1959). Pyaasa included another anthem, the song, Jinhe Naaz Hai Hind Par Woh Kahan Hai? (Where are the people who take pride in India?)

These two films, especially Kagaz Ke Phool, did not succeed at the box office and Dutt had to compromise and produce films that were more commercially viable. But despite the box office highs and lows, he made his films at a time when the Bombay Cinema was at its creative best.

Mehboob Khan directed Mother India in 1957 – an epic film about one woman’s struggle for justice. Often compared to Gone With The Wind, Mother India received an Oscar nomination in the foreign language category – a first for India – and its lead Nargis won the best actress award at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival.

K Asif directed an even bigger production, Mughal-e-Azam (1960), a grand, operatic film with huge sets and powerful dialogues that explored the doomed love affair between Prince Salim and a courtesan named Anarkali. The film starred Raj Kapoor’s contemporary Dilip Kumar and the iconic Indian screen beauty Madhubala in the lead. Kapoor’s father Prithviraj Kapoor played the dramatic role of Emperor Akbar who forbids the relationship between his only son and a professional dancing girl.

As the young nation moved from the 1960s to the early 1970s, the promises made at the time of independence began to appear as mere political slogans. By late 1960s India was an adult – over 21 years old and the innocence had transformed into disappointment and anger.

The popular Hindi cinema caught up with the times. The writing duo – Javed Akhtar and Salim Khan – created the character of an angry young man for movies like Zanzeer (1973) and Deewar (1975). The role was perfectly suited for a tall, lanky actor with brooding looks and a deep voice; Amitabh Bachchan the superstar was born and films became angrier, more violent, although still hugely popular with the masses.

At the same time though, another remarkable trend started in Indian cinema (this time not just in the Hindi language films) – the “new wave” or “parallel films,” mostly funded by government financing and with directors and actors who had been trained at the Pune Film Institute, a government-run graduate school. The films that emerged from this period also focused on issues related to social realism, poverty, corruption and the treatment of untouchables and women – both in rural areas and the cities. This period saw films by directors like Shyam Benegal (Ankur, Manthan, Bhumika), Govind Nihlani (Aakrosh, Ardh Satya) as well as more experimental works by Mani Kaul (Uski Roti, Duvidha).

There was a big difference between these films and those of the 1950s and 1960s. The earlier films of Raj Kapoor and Bimal Roy maintained a number of parallel tracks – songs, music, comedy and romance, along with the social messages. The “new wave,” or “parallel” films were closer to reality, often starring actors trained in theatre or the film institute. They were hired for projects based on their acting abilities and not for their movie star looks.

But the parallel cinema – while popular at film festivals and winning national awards, never received theatrical success. The single theatres in major metropolitan cities could not attract a large enough audience to view these films and the only medium to play them was Doordarshan, the government-run television station. Poor economics resulted in fewer projects being financed, until the productions stopped and by the early 1980s the parallel cinema movement died an unfortunate death.

In the 1980s, the arrival of video-tapes led to concerns about piracy – an issue that Bombay’s film industry still struggles with. But the 1980s was also creatively a low point for the Hindi language film industry.

The next decade witnessed the freeing of the Indian economy from the shackles of the tired socialist system. As the economy liberalised in the 1990s, another trend began to emerge – India and the Indian slowly became a global entity. Bombay’s mostly inward looking film industry jumped onto this global bandwagon, wanting to become a player in this field. At the same time, Hindi film producers noticed the emergence of the non-resident Indian (NRI) markets in the SA, UK and US. And hence Bollywood was born – a cinema that attempted to reflect the reality of that time.

In 1998 the Indian government for the first time declared the film business as an industry. This opened opportunities for banks and other financial institutions to invest in film production. Today’s Bollywood industry is run by legitimate studios – BIG Pictures, UTV, Dharma Productions – with regular scripts, budgets and proper tracking of accounting. For the brief period in the late 1990s Bombay’s shady underworld made inroads into Bollywood, but all of that is past history.

Filmmakers like Yash Chopra and Karan Johar and their production houses created films that tried to capture a modernising India. The global Indian star – often played by actors like Shahrukh Khan, now travelled through Europe or walked on the streets of New York, but also wore Western brands while in Bombay. The innocent and quieter songs and love stories of the Golden Age of the Bombay Cinema were replaced by elaborate production numbers where the stars dressed up in gaudy costumes and displayed Western dancing skills. Violence, action and car chase sequences, replaced the social issues of the 1950s and 1960s.

The new audiences – especially those in the Indian diaspora in UK and US loved these films. Box office success of films such as Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, Pardes and Kabhi Khushi, Kabhie Gham led to several imitations. The process and the evolution continue, as the same filmmakers are now seeking to make films that will also cross over with the mainstream audience in Western countries.

Sixty-three years after independence, India has evolved and changed substantially, often beyond recognition.

Change is inevitable and the journey of popular Hindi films from Bombay Cinema to Bollywood seems natural. But in the process the new Bollywood films have lost a lot. For lovers of Indian films, especially fans of today’s Bollywood, an occasional visit to the films of Raj Kapoor, Guru Dutt and others of that era is a strong reminder of how good things were during that Golden Age.

Aseem Chhabra is a freelance writer based in New York City. He writes a weekly column for Mumbai Mirror, and has been published in The New York Times, The Boston Globe and The Philadelphia Inquirer. He is a board member of the South Asian Journalists Association.