Any kid who has ever held up a smartphone to shoot a series of video clips and then order them into a narrative on a computer will realise what a difficult proposition it is. But a film, an actual film, shot on 35mm, or digital made to look like 35mm, is a downright tortuous task. It isn’t plonking a camera in front of actors, who will saunter onto a set and then park-and-bark.
It is hell. For everybody. The lighting alone of the simplest of shots takes ages, that too, when it is being performed by professionals who have been doing it for a living since long. A wide-angle establishing shot that uses a crane might be over in a blip but the viewers won’t realise how much time — and human resource — it took to merely rig the crane. It takes a village to shoot a proper film. Their blood, sweat, tears, chai and booze. And all this, spending the money of producers who, out of God-knows-what impulses, have chosen to invest in this fickle trade rather than set up another tyre shop.
Occasionally, writers and directors take risks with aesthetic sensibilities; they push the envelope. Much to the chagrin of the producers — and only sometimes at their prodding — they make movies that aren’t (entirely) like anything that audiences have seen. It is a risky proposition since it has hits and misses, but one that is important because there would be no evolution without it.
That creative risk should be limited to reasons of experimentation in storytelling. Not other factors.
On other factors: dear readers, there is going to be a terrorist attack on Indian soil in the coming future. Four months from now. Maybe eight months from now. A year, perhaps. It is going to be a high-profile attack. The attackers are going to be from Pakistan. Their being Pakistani might not necessarily be established but it is likelier than not that it would, in fact, be established. The only question would be whether they were sponsored by the Pakistani deep state or were rogue agents; neither answer would bode well for Pakistan.
Across the border, there is going to be a media maelstrom. The Indian public will be out, baying for blood. The Indian government, regardless of which political party it is, is going to have some common sense thrashed into it by the peaceniks within its foreign affairs cadre, beating down the hawks.
Frustrated by the lack of a military response, the jingoistic Indian media, and the hyper-nationalist parties, will start making other demands, key of which would be the exclusion of Pakistani actors from Bollywood. They have already done the same when it came to the IPL, with no one bidding for Pakistani players even in the year when Pakistan were the T20 world champions. Mahira Khan’s disarming smile might still be subjective, but Younis Khan’s score is a number that can’t be debated; so if it can be done in cricket, it most certainly can be done in Bollywood.
The presence of Pakistani actors in the cast is going to make any film a toxic commodity on the great Indian film circuit. Theatre owners are going to be shy of exhibiting the film, fearing pitchfork-wielding mobs.
Many have taken Indian producer/director Karan Johar to task for not standing by his mantra of cross-border peace when the going got tough and promising not to cast Pakistani actors in the future, or at least till things get better between the two countries. I don’t. He did the right thing. It’s not that Johar didn’t show guts. It’s just that he had absolutely no right to show guts if there were even five rupees of another investor’s money in the film. No right to be brave on their behalf.
Are the jingoists in India justified? Of course not. In their minds, actors, singers, mechanical engineers, animal husbandry experts, all are part of Hafiz Saeed’s coterie. The truth is far from that. You see, thirty years ago, the ANP was the only mainstream political party in Pakistan that wanted unconditional peace with India. Now, the Jamat-e-Islami is perhaps the only mainstream political party that doesn’t. Anti-India sentiment doesn’t sit well with the Pakistani voter. As opposed to the Indian voter, who has been lapping up anti-Pakistan rhetoric.
It isn’t the Pakistani political government, the one that actually represents the same actors, singers, mechanical engineers and animal husbandry experts, that wants war with India. It is the deep state within Pakistan. But such nuances would be lost out on a man or woman in India who wants a focal point to hate.
You could argue that no, if we accept defeat, then how are things going to improve between the two countries? That we need cross-border cultural exchange. Well, that would be a good talking point if we knew nothing of each other’s culture in the first place. No, we breathe it in, revel in it, and the hate still persists. Though it isn’t representative of the entire situation, but I would like to cite here a comment on a video of Habib Jalil on YouTube. Main nahi manta. We used to sing this poem when we were in jail during the Emergency, commented an Indian old timer. Indira’s Emergency. Though there was an entire spectrum that had opposed her dictatorial move, this fellow in particular was from one of the antecedents of the BJP. Yet this Jalib-listening Hindu nationalist still had a gripe against Pakistan.
The peculiarities of the human mind are such that a film starring an Indian actor like Salman Khan, but one that preaches friendship between the two countries (Bajrangi Bhaijaan) would still be more acceptable in India than a film that has a Pakistani actor but one that has absolutely nothing about Pakistan (ADHM). Let movies like the former bridge the gap.
Not an ideal world, yes, but the one we live in. In the words of the sage Woody Allen, “I hate reality, but it’s still the best place to get a steak.”
If these actors love the fine art and craft of cinema, they should cease and desist. At least till the dynamic between the two countries changes fundamentally. The film is greater than any member of cast and crew. The show must go on.