December 18, 2015, will go down in Hindi film history as the date on which two expensive productions directed by big-name directors and featuring marquee names decided to ignore all advice to the contrary and chomp into each other’s market share.
Going to war are Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Bajirao Mastani, set during Peshwa rule in Maharashtra in the early eighteenth century, and Rohit Shetty’s action comedy Dilwale, set decidedly in the present. Bajirao Mastani features Ranveer Singh, Priyanka Chopra and Deepika Padukone, while Dilwale has Shah Rukh Khan, Kajol, Varun Dhawan and Kriti Sanon. So heavy is the wattage of the stars involved with both productions that it is advisable to take along a pair of sunglasses to the cinema.
There is a possibility that one of the films might “see reason”, as the trade pundits fervently hope, and shifts its release date, but that seems unlikely at this point. To step back is to admit fear of failure and defeat. Besides, by retreating, the filmmakers will deny journalist and industry watchers ringside tickets to a bout as exciting as Muhammad Ali versus George Foreman.
There have been numerous such bouts in the past, and the results are usually bruising. In most of the encounters in the past decade – Don versus Jaaneman (2006), Om Shanti Om versus Saawariya (2007), Action Replayy versus Golmaal 3 (2010), Jab Tak Hai Jaan versus Son of Sardaar (2012) – one film has beaten the other to the bank. This year’s tussle is a replay of 2007, when Shah Rukh Khan’s production Om Shanti Om was released on the same day as Bhansali’s Saawariya. Om Shanti Om won the weekend, but that hasn’t prevented other producers and distributors form sallying forth into battle.
The skirmish between Jab Tak Hai Jaan versus Son of Sardaar was particularly ugly, with Son of Sardaar’s producer and lead actor, Ajay Devgn, filing a complaint before the Competition Commission of India against unfair trade practices by Yash Raj Films, Jab Tak Hai Jaan’s producer. Yash Raj Films had allegedly made distributors and exhibitors an offer they could scarcely refuse. If they wanted a fair deal on the Salman Khan starrer Ek Tha Tiger, which was released in August that year, then they needed to devote as many screens as possible to Jab Tak Hai Jaan over Son of Sardaar when the movies opened in November that year. Devgn lost his case, but the ensuing bad blood ensured that at least for the next few months, the lucrative long weekends created by bank holidays on Fridays and festive occasions, were reserved for A-list productions.
It is considered common industry practice for leading producers to offer such two-for-the-price-of-one deals, especially when the producer is as powerful and prestigious as YRF, has a pipeline of releases gushing forth every few months, and works with some of the most popular filmmakers and actors. And given the number of zeroes in the average mega-entertainer’s budget, it is also considered common practice to announce a release months and sometimes a year in advance, corner every available screen in multiplexes and single screen cinemas, and wring out as much business as possible within the first few days.
Going to war, then, is bad for business: it divides the spoils and forces audiences to choose sides. At least, that is the perception that has been successfully spread by trade analysts. But where does this target-oriented approach leave the viewer?
The pestilence that is the Rs 100-crore club
Regardless of genre, disposition and thematic treatment, every Hindi movie that rolls off the Hindi film industry pipeline has only one destination: the cinema. Many filmmakers seek both critical love and audience generosity, but some productions are quite happy with only the latter. Hits are recounted with as much pride as military victories. Our memories of older Hindi films are often supplemented with information on the number of weeks they lingered in cinemas, and our fondness for certain titles is coloured with the knowledge that our love for them was shared by lakhs of others. Many of our “evergreen classics” are actually humungous box office conquerors that imprinted themselves on the souls of audiences and continue to thrive as telecasts on the small screen or DVDs or through scenes and songs on the internet.
There are those who remember a thoughtfully directed, well-acted, and cinematically literate film that didn’t reach the two-week mark, let alone the 25-week goal. Everybody remembers a hit.
The obvious goal of a commercial release – to make money – has taken on a manic edge in recent years. The rise of the so-called Rs 100 crore club is hardly surprising, given the overreaching influence of what is now called Bollywood culture across the world, but this new development has caused unmanageable tensions and altered the relationship not just between the critic and the filmmaker, but also between the filmmaker and the moviegoer.
It started in 2008 with Ghajini, AR Murgadoss’s Hindi remake of his Tamil hit of the same name. Starring Aamir Khan, the unacknowledged copy of Christopher Nolan’s Memento was the first member of the Rs 100 crore club, whose members rake in many crores very fast within the opening weekend itself and then swell their kitty over the next few days. Why is this possible now rather than earlier? Increased digitisation in multiplexes and single-screen cinemas has ensured that unlike in the past, movies are released on the same day in India and overseas territories, making it possible for distributors to target thousands of screens at one go. The days of staggered releases, when movies would first open in the big cities and then make their way in a stately fashion to the interiors and foreign lands, is now the stuff of folklore.
Ticket prices too have been hiked, and surge pricing during the opening weekend is yet another commonly accepted practice. The hype across media platforms that precedes the average release also plays its part in driving audiences into cinemas. Going to a movie on a Friday was never only an act of love, but it is now being measured in percentiles and fractions. Everybody is an amateur statistician on a Friday, multiplying the number of screens against the ticket prices and theatre occupancy to declare, often on Saturday itself, whether the race has been won or lost.
In fact, the gargantuan success of movies such as 3 Idiots, PK and, most recently, Bajrangi Bhaijaan, have made the Rs 100-crore benchmark seem modest in comparison. Rs 200 crores? Rs 300 crores? There is no limit to the movie trade’s hunger, since success on this scale helps negate unfavourable reviews and pre-release dissent and cements the filmmaker’s position as not only a very persuasive entertainer, but as the sage who most accurately reflects the public’s desires and aspirations.
Hype is the not-so-secret weapon
If show business necessarily involves some degree of chicanery, it follows that hyperbole is an important weapon in a producer’s arsenal. The activity of publicising a big-budget production can, without exaggeration, be referred to as carpet-bombing. The invasion of conventional media and social networking sites with publicity-related information can be subtle (fake leaks, paid news, exclusive interviews and photo-ops with friendly media organisations), unsubtle (merchandise tie-ins with consumer goods manufacturers, appearances on popular television shows) and insidious (the recent trend of holding previews and eliciting breathless tweets and Facebook updates). Film criticism is increasingly regarded as an unpatriotic act that deters from the march of triumph. Trade analysts, whose expertise lay in telling us whether or not a film could recover its money, are now feted as astute critics for their dual-edged ability to appreciate a film’s contents as well as predict the viability of these contents.
“Is the movie good, and will audiences like it too?” is no longer a valid question. “Will it run?” is.
Since moviegoers are regarded as consumers whose actions determine the success or the failure of the product that once used to be a movie, it is legitimate for them to demand the right to choice. A bunch of powerful producers has monopolised release dates because it suits their commercial prospects. It is they who decide that we will be stuck with a Salman Khan film on the Ramzan weekend, a Shah Rukh Khan film around Diwali or the Christmas weekend, and an Aamir Khan movie whenever he is ready. Given the compulsions of multiplexes and single screen theatres, which have rentals, salaries and other expenses to worry about, the immediate casualty is the smaller movie that doesn’t get enough screens or the right kind of shows to reach its intended audience.
Is this what audiences really want, or have they been persuaded to think so? Moviegoers are not averse to being herded like livestock into cinemas. They willingly partake of pre-release hype and obediently swell the cinemas on opening weekends to boost the honour of their favourite stars. Helping a movie reach its target is like helping a favoured politician win an election, with the ticket stub being as important a loyalty test as the inked finger.
The herd is able and willing, but it might be time to ask for a variety in the fodder on offer. The December 18 weekend is a good time to raise this demand. There are enough cash-rich Indians for whom movie-going is a form of leisure activity, on par with eating out or visiting the park. There are enough Indians who are fans of Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s 70mm-sized spectacles. There are enough Indians who are devotees of Rohit Shetty’s brand of entertainment. Many of these fans overlap, but many don’t.
If both the movies do get released on the same day, it’s the moviegoer who benefits the most. Stuck with overpriced tickets, a hungry family, and the obligation to have a good time, this moviegoer might just welcome the variety. If the combination of Ranveer Singh, Deepika Padukone and Priyanka Chopra in Peshwa attire is not appealing enough, there is the option of witnessing Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol re-unite on the screen after a five-year gap or Varun Dhawan try out his charms on Kriti Sanon. The conflation of moviegoers and consumers is complete. Let them at least have a choice in what they are being told they need to spend their money on.
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Going to war are Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Bajirao Mastani, set during Peshwa rule in Maharashtra in the early eighteenth century, and Rohit Shetty’s action comedy Dilwale, set decidedly in the present. Bajirao Mastani features Ranveer Singh, Priyanka Chopra and Deepika Padukone, while Dilwale has Shah Rukh Khan, Kajol, Varun Dhawan and Kriti Sanon. So heavy is the wattage of the stars involved with both productions that it is advisable to take along a pair of sunglasses to the cinema.
There is a possibility that one of the films might “see reason”, as the trade pundits fervently hope, and shifts its release date, but that seems unlikely at this point. To step back is to admit fear of failure and defeat. Besides, by retreating, the filmmakers will deny journalist and industry watchers ringside tickets to a bout as exciting as Muhammad Ali versus George Foreman.
There have been numerous such bouts in the past, and the results are usually bruising. In most of the encounters in the past decade – Don versus Jaaneman (2006), Om Shanti Om versus Saawariya (2007), Action Replayy versus Golmaal 3 (2010), Jab Tak Hai Jaan versus Son of Sardaar (2012) – one film has beaten the other to the bank. This year’s tussle is a replay of 2007, when Shah Rukh Khan’s production Om Shanti Om was released on the same day as Bhansali’s Saawariya. Om Shanti Om won the weekend, but that hasn’t prevented other producers and distributors form sallying forth into battle.
The skirmish between Jab Tak Hai Jaan versus Son of Sardaar was particularly ugly, with Son of Sardaar’s producer and lead actor, Ajay Devgn, filing a complaint before the Competition Commission of India against unfair trade practices by Yash Raj Films, Jab Tak Hai Jaan’s producer. Yash Raj Films had allegedly made distributors and exhibitors an offer they could scarcely refuse. If they wanted a fair deal on the Salman Khan starrer Ek Tha Tiger, which was released in August that year, then they needed to devote as many screens as possible to Jab Tak Hai Jaan over Son of Sardaar when the movies opened in November that year. Devgn lost his case, but the ensuing bad blood ensured that at least for the next few months, the lucrative long weekends created by bank holidays on Fridays and festive occasions, were reserved for A-list productions.
It is considered common industry practice for leading producers to offer such two-for-the-price-of-one deals, especially when the producer is as powerful and prestigious as YRF, has a pipeline of releases gushing forth every few months, and works with some of the most popular filmmakers and actors. And given the number of zeroes in the average mega-entertainer’s budget, it is also considered common practice to announce a release months and sometimes a year in advance, corner every available screen in multiplexes and single screen cinemas, and wring out as much business as possible within the first few days.
Going to war, then, is bad for business: it divides the spoils and forces audiences to choose sides. At least, that is the perception that has been successfully spread by trade analysts. But where does this target-oriented approach leave the viewer?
The pestilence that is the Rs 100-crore club
Regardless of genre, disposition and thematic treatment, every Hindi movie that rolls off the Hindi film industry pipeline has only one destination: the cinema. Many filmmakers seek both critical love and audience generosity, but some productions are quite happy with only the latter. Hits are recounted with as much pride as military victories. Our memories of older Hindi films are often supplemented with information on the number of weeks they lingered in cinemas, and our fondness for certain titles is coloured with the knowledge that our love for them was shared by lakhs of others. Many of our “evergreen classics” are actually humungous box office conquerors that imprinted themselves on the souls of audiences and continue to thrive as telecasts on the small screen or DVDs or through scenes and songs on the internet.
There are those who remember a thoughtfully directed, well-acted, and cinematically literate film that didn’t reach the two-week mark, let alone the 25-week goal. Everybody remembers a hit.
The obvious goal of a commercial release – to make money – has taken on a manic edge in recent years. The rise of the so-called Rs 100 crore club is hardly surprising, given the overreaching influence of what is now called Bollywood culture across the world, but this new development has caused unmanageable tensions and altered the relationship not just between the critic and the filmmaker, but also between the filmmaker and the moviegoer.
It started in 2008 with Ghajini, AR Murgadoss’s Hindi remake of his Tamil hit of the same name. Starring Aamir Khan, the unacknowledged copy of Christopher Nolan’s Memento was the first member of the Rs 100 crore club, whose members rake in many crores very fast within the opening weekend itself and then swell their kitty over the next few days. Why is this possible now rather than earlier? Increased digitisation in multiplexes and single-screen cinemas has ensured that unlike in the past, movies are released on the same day in India and overseas territories, making it possible for distributors to target thousands of screens at one go. The days of staggered releases, when movies would first open in the big cities and then make their way in a stately fashion to the interiors and foreign lands, is now the stuff of folklore.
Ticket prices too have been hiked, and surge pricing during the opening weekend is yet another commonly accepted practice. The hype across media platforms that precedes the average release also plays its part in driving audiences into cinemas. Going to a movie on a Friday was never only an act of love, but it is now being measured in percentiles and fractions. Everybody is an amateur statistician on a Friday, multiplying the number of screens against the ticket prices and theatre occupancy to declare, often on Saturday itself, whether the race has been won or lost.
In fact, the gargantuan success of movies such as 3 Idiots, PK and, most recently, Bajrangi Bhaijaan, have made the Rs 100-crore benchmark seem modest in comparison. Rs 200 crores? Rs 300 crores? There is no limit to the movie trade’s hunger, since success on this scale helps negate unfavourable reviews and pre-release dissent and cements the filmmaker’s position as not only a very persuasive entertainer, but as the sage who most accurately reflects the public’s desires and aspirations.
Hype is the not-so-secret weapon
If show business necessarily involves some degree of chicanery, it follows that hyperbole is an important weapon in a producer’s arsenal. The activity of publicising a big-budget production can, without exaggeration, be referred to as carpet-bombing. The invasion of conventional media and social networking sites with publicity-related information can be subtle (fake leaks, paid news, exclusive interviews and photo-ops with friendly media organisations), unsubtle (merchandise tie-ins with consumer goods manufacturers, appearances on popular television shows) and insidious (the recent trend of holding previews and eliciting breathless tweets and Facebook updates). Film criticism is increasingly regarded as an unpatriotic act that deters from the march of triumph. Trade analysts, whose expertise lay in telling us whether or not a film could recover its money, are now feted as astute critics for their dual-edged ability to appreciate a film’s contents as well as predict the viability of these contents.
“Is the movie good, and will audiences like it too?” is no longer a valid question. “Will it run?” is.
Since moviegoers are regarded as consumers whose actions determine the success or the failure of the product that once used to be a movie, it is legitimate for them to demand the right to choice. A bunch of powerful producers has monopolised release dates because it suits their commercial prospects. It is they who decide that we will be stuck with a Salman Khan film on the Ramzan weekend, a Shah Rukh Khan film around Diwali or the Christmas weekend, and an Aamir Khan movie whenever he is ready. Given the compulsions of multiplexes and single screen theatres, which have rentals, salaries and other expenses to worry about, the immediate casualty is the smaller movie that doesn’t get enough screens or the right kind of shows to reach its intended audience.
Is this what audiences really want, or have they been persuaded to think so? Moviegoers are not averse to being herded like livestock into cinemas. They willingly partake of pre-release hype and obediently swell the cinemas on opening weekends to boost the honour of their favourite stars. Helping a movie reach its target is like helping a favoured politician win an election, with the ticket stub being as important a loyalty test as the inked finger.
The herd is able and willing, but it might be time to ask for a variety in the fodder on offer. The December 18 weekend is a good time to raise this demand. There are enough cash-rich Indians for whom movie-going is a form of leisure activity, on par with eating out or visiting the park. There are enough Indians who are fans of Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s 70mm-sized spectacles. There are enough Indians who are devotees of Rohit Shetty’s brand of entertainment. Many of these fans overlap, but many don’t.
If both the movies do get released on the same day, it’s the moviegoer who benefits the most. Stuck with overpriced tickets, a hungry family, and the obligation to have a good time, this moviegoer might just welcome the variety. If the combination of Ranveer Singh, Deepika Padukone and Priyanka Chopra in Peshwa attire is not appealing enough, there is the option of witnessing Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol re-unite on the screen after a five-year gap or Varun Dhawan try out his charms on Kriti Sanon. The conflation of moviegoers and consumers is complete. Let them at least have a choice in what they are being told they need to spend their money on.
