Bollywood's long song-and-dance to now

Indian cinema is going through somewhat of several revolutions. One of those is that scenes that used to be seen in porn theatres are now becoming part of mainstream. But that's not exactly an achievement...

One form of progress is films like Dil Vil Pyar Vyar and Dil Chahta Hai: plots that are less linear, but deeper in character development while still catering to the 'commercial' crowd.

A lot of people stereotype Hindi cinema as people running around trees. I mean, of course! Come on, what would Hindi films be without them? There's room for that. But there's more to the industry or to the art. Here's my take on it.

The 50s and 60s saw some of the best cinema: black and white studies of the common man (at that time Awaara or 420), the naïveness of love through graceful, subtle looks and sobre sarees and dhotis or suits. Raj Kapoor being one of those I watched, his films had messages about human nature, corruption, temptation, some of the less cheery Indian realities. And there was the one and only Satyajit Ray.

The 70s witnessed Raj Kapoor at films again, but directing other actors, and going for choli-less chokris in white sarees, the precursors to today's vixens! Colour everywhere, and candy-flavoured stories. The full-blown tree-scampering, the puffed-up hair and some very quirky music. Some of R.D. Burman's best music, and rarer but successful incursions into deep stories. The 70s also gave us Sholay, a must-see of Indian cinema, along with scores of films featuring the lanky, handsome Amitabh Bachchan. Films where the hero was from the working class, fighting for his people against the oppressor: full-swing Socialism. The fights were absurd, the heroines mere decoration and the hero's mother tearsome. The Feminists hated it, the Leftists loved it. Adorno would have at least liked it more than what followed.

The 80s, decade of disco, crimped hair and just plain dismay, except for the music. Saree-clad heroines finding more creative ways of running around trees, minus the social issues. The hair was bad, the clothes were bad, the make-up quite quite horrible, the hero's mother blind and tearsome, the mother-in-law wicked. The music sometimes came above the lot, and some of the best songs we hum today come from then. But the least said, the better.

The 90s offered a mixed lot. The first half probably still reeked quite strongly of the nasty 80s things, but more of the American 80s (which is no great relief). And the middle and end of the decade gave us Chandni, Lamhe, films which, if not political, were at least less caricatural. The hero's mother could now smile, she could even be cool.

Leaping to today, the past four years have moved the industry incredibly fast. The quality of film-making is going up, in part due to swelling budgets, and in part due to talent and competition. But gone are the days of out and out socialist recriminations. If the manual or blue-collar worker used to go and watch his hero fight his cause and come out of it still facing his real world, now he goes to watch the hero fight another class' cause, then comes out facing his real world: he sees Devdas in opera-like proportions, and Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham where people own private helicopters. The mothers rival with their heroine-daughters in looks and style and even dance!

Of course India's (upper) middle class has grown, so much so apparently that the whole Yash Chopra school of film-making now condemns heros to have at least five Ferraris and heroines to only wear designer creations. The gawkiness has gone out of most films, but so has the sense. I love a corny Hindi film as much as the next person. But there will be no intelligent meaning to be extracted. Just put your brains on "luxury pause" for three hours. There are the Mira Nairs, Mani Ratnams, Asutosh Gowarikers and Deepa Mehtas of this world, and these are whiffs of fresh air. Add to that the endless rhythms of Indian music which have a way of weaving their charm. Yes, it makes total sense to me that actors and actresses should suddenly break into a song in the middle of nowhere. Especially if it was shot in Mauritius.

I'm looking forward to what Bollywood will come up with next: Yuva, Lakshya, Bride and Prejudice (the latter being a British-Indian production, perhaps the start to BRollywood, rain and all?) One thing's clear: my passion for Hindi films is as much a part of me as the dimple on my right cheek and my love for roti and curry!