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Punjabi
Films By Nonika Singh
Flashback to the beginning of 1999. Pop icon Gurdas Mann’s home production Shaheed-e-Mohabbat — a poignant tale of love set in the harrowing times of Partition — won accolades. Directed by a greenhorn Manoj Punjh, who made his directorial debut with the film, it rediscovered the actor in Mann. It was selected for the panorama section of the IFFI and later went on to collect the prestigious National Award for the best film in the regional cinema category. A few weeks prior to Mann’s film came the blockbuster in the shape of Jaspal Bhatti’s rib-tickling satire on the police force. The laugh-a-minute comedy Mahaul Theek Hai broke the 33-year-old record of Punjabi films in Chandigarh alone as it had a successful stint of 13 weeks. Silencing his detractors, who all along had sniggered that Bhatti couldn’t possibly sustain humour for three long hours, he passed the ultimate litmus test as the film notched points after points on the audience appreciation scale and celebrated its silver jubilee. Spurred by its success, the comedy king is all set to release the dubbed version soon. Three milestones in a span of two years! Punjabi cinema has never looked so good. As Vinod Sharma, associated with public relations of two films Mahaul.... and Shaheed Uddham...:, gushes: "If ever renaissance in Punjabi film jagat was possible, this is the moment". Come to think of it the films came about at a time when the obituary of Punjabi films had been written and sealed for posterity to analyse. At a press conference announcing the launch of Mahaul..., Bhatti had guffawed: "I am committing a grave blunder". When he said this, he wasn’t delivering his patented one-liners. The man was dead serious. Bhatti confessed: "My friends and well-wishers thought I had lost my mind. Instead of congratulating me, they commiserated with me". And not without reason. Punjabi cinema, despite almost a seven-decade-old legacy — the first film Heer Sayal was made in 1932 — has had at best a chequered career. Hits were more or less like a flash in the pan. Their brilliance was but ephemeral. Perhaps the worst blow was dealt when the rule of gun reigned supreme but even in the post-terrorism days, the industry failed to see better days. In 1995, the number of films released was 11, it plummeted to seven in 1996 and touched a low of five in 1997.
Earlier, two award-winning films-- Marhi da Deeva and Kachheri -- and grossers like Chann Pardesi were made. But Rupinder Gill, co-producer of several hit films like Putt Jattan De, agrees that it has always been a bhed chaal. For instance, out of the seven films that he produced, nearly all ‘showcased’ the valour of jats. Why the films even had the word jat in their titles! Earlier also the mega success of Nanak Naam Jahaz Hai had spawned a series of religious films like Nanak Dukhiya Sab Sansaar, Mitar Pyaare Nu, etc. In the fifties, the leitmotif running through Punjabi films mirrored the Punjabi folk dances woven around rural themes. Remarks Bhatti: "Punjabi audiences have been shortchanged for far too long and served the same concoction of bhangra and giddha ad nauseam". Small wonder that when he made a break from the past, he touched a nerve. B.N. Sharma, a seasoned actor who has worked in over 30 Punjabi films, agrees: "The maker can no longer afford to dwell in the past. Besides keeping in sync with changing times, he must possess a vision. He has to transcend the present and connect with the future".
Onkar Singh Bains, a producer who has distributed Shaheed Udham Singh in Europe and Canada, claims that the movie is doing brisk business in theatres where even Hindi blockbusters rarely go beyond four weeks. Maninder Gill of Raja Entertainers, which possess the audio rights of the film, says: "Over half-a-million albums have already been sold thus making it a competitor of Punjabi pop music. Even CD sales have been unusually high". Success stories breed clones — have these three hits opened new doors? Do fresh vistas beckon? Yes and no. Sharma, though happy with the recognition his comic portrayal of Biloo bakra in Mahaul..., rues that in all likelihood none of the nine unreleased films he has acted in will see the light of day. Put simply, even today there are no takers for Punjabi films, even for big-budget films like Dard Pardesan De. The only movie that is likely to hit the big screen in near future is Sikandra which hopes to recapture the magic of star jodi Guggu Gill and Yograj Singh. For the Punjabi film producers, the vicious cycle of low investment - low returns - low quality remains intact. The not-so-conducive environment can be gauged from the fact that producers like Gill haven’t cared to make a film since 1993. Bhatti, who insists that he didn’t even make a penny (not even to buy his shoe laces) out of his film, justifies the mood: "Though the film industry follows no set rules and tomorrow a small-budget film might set a new record, the small producer at this moment is scared and sitting tight." To say that one good film is better than 10 awful ones is sheer hyperbole. For an industry to survive, more films have to be made. Till the low-budget film-maker musters enough courage, the industry has come to depend — heavily at that — on big-time players. These players not only have the megabucks to spare but also wield enough clout to pull out all the stops. More pertinently, they possess an obsessive urge to pay a cinematic tribute to their mother tongue.
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When
the multicrore extravaganzas dished out by
Bollywood are flopping left, right and centre, and even the much- hyped
Hey Ram belied expectations, Shaheed Udham Singh, a film
produced by Iqbal Singh Dhillon, successfully made its point. Though it
was a Punjabi film, its Hindustani version received the Screen Videocon
special jury award, besides striking a chord in the hearts and minds of
Punjabi-speaking cine buffs. A film that aimed to redefine history, itself
created history of sorts. With a budget running into crores of rupees, it
was the most expensive Punjabi film ever made as also the first to be
presented in Dolby digital sound. The film has also charted a fresh course
across the seven seas as it has already run for 12 weeks in London and is
still going strong.
Alas, the tragedy of Punjabi cinema is that it woefully lacks
full-time producers. But for a rare Dhillon, producers come and go. Some
try to capitalise on the occasional sops offered by the government, some
want to be part of the glamour; but whatever the motive, the reasons are
not strong enough to cement a permanent bond with the industry. Not that
they can be faulted. Small territory translates into bad economics. The
apathetic attitude of the government, which has disbanded the subsidy
policy but framed no alternative incentives, only compounds the crisis.
But then a bankrupt government can hardly be expected to pay heed to
"insignificant" matters like culture and films. Bhatti says: "I feel
ashamed to contact officials in the government. The unanimous refrain of
the officialdom is, "What can we do when he haven’t ever got our salary?"
Dhillon, however, is not that benevolent. He furiously quotes statistics:
"Can you believe that while other state governments like Maharashtra
offered us tax exemption for one year on any number of prints, our own
Punjab government consented to grant it only for six weeks and that too
only for 10 prints? What more can I say about a government that hasn’t
bothered to institute an award which costs nothing."