It’s back:
Bengali cinema, written off for the last 30-odd years as being in terminal decline since the heyday of the trinity of Satyajit Ray-Ritwik Ghatak-Mrinal Sen, seems to be rearing its intelligent, sharp head to be taken note of. It is doing so at a time when cinema-goers have thinned out, preferring the comfort and non-hassle of the remote control at home. Films such as Nandita Roy and Shibo Prosad Mukherjee’s 2024 heist movie Bohurupi (Chameleon) and Soojit Rino Dutta’s 2024 action thriller Khadaan have been blockbusters, the latter becoming the fastest Bengali film to cross the Rs 5 crore mark in five days.
Quality Bengali films, in a minority even in their heyday in the 1960s and ’70s, punched above their weight. But even that critical mass was drowned out by terribly produced, formulaic films that producers put their money in for quick box office returns. With the latter drying out—because of cinemas in money-strapped Bengal closing down as well as Hindi films upping their production quality and popularity among the ticket-buying masses—Bengali cinema’s reputation died a slow, rear-stall death.
But with OTT, the splutter of intelligent popular films—like the 2012 Bhooter Bhobishyot (Future of the Past, or Future of the Ghost), a trenchant comedy that showcases Kolkata living off its past and gives it a rip-roarious shake—is once again attaining a critical mass. It may not yet be discernible outside the Bengaliphonic sphere, but within the Bengali cinema-watching and -streaming audience, people are sitting up.
Breaking out:
The return of good Bengali movies is despite the trying cinema ecosystem, not because it has had a change of direction. Apart from Srijit Mukherji— the reigning name in middle-brow Bengali cinema, director of crossover Hindi films like the 2017 Vidya Balanstarring Begum Jaan (a remake of his Bengali film Rajkahini) and co-director with Rohan Sippy of the 2024 TV series Shekhar Home, a desi take on Sherlock Holmes, starring Kay Kay Menon— Bengali cinema still languishes in the “glorious past ” for non-Bengali movie followers. Director-actor Anirban Bhattacharya explains this paucity: “Bengali audiences are not committed to their own language. It is a result of an intellectual downfall in Bengal. It is a socio-political tragedy in every stream of Bengal: theatre, film, poetry, painting and music,” he says, adding, “I am not blaming the audience…. The crisis is more in our own selves.” Laments Bhattacharya: “If you ask a person in Bengal about her favourite actor, she will name Shah Rukh Khan or Ranbir Kapoor first and then a Bengali actor like, say, Parambrata Chattopadhyay and Abir Chatterjee. This is not the case in the South. There, a person will name Fahadh Faasil or Allu Arjun first and then a Hindi actor.”
Southern films of the kind Bhattacharya cites, especially Malayalam and Tamil, have found a huge audience who do not speak or read these languages. That’s because of the ‘sincerity’ and ‘authenticity’ in their vision and storytelling. Bengali cinema is gaining ground on this front. The story is once again becoming important.
The question is when there will be enough of this kind of cinema for the industry to make a reputational change, especially outside the Bengalisphere.
Shiboprosad Mukherjee, director of critically acclaimed films like the 2013 thriller Alik Shukh (Unreal Happiness) and 2019 Kontho (Voice), says, “A film has to be rooted in its language and culture. That is why Marathi films such as Sairat and Natsamrat have worked beyond Maharashtra,” adding, “Today we need to make Bengali films with its culture intact.”
Films, like Indranil Roychowdhury’s 2013 Phoring (Dragonfly) on the relationship between a new schoolteacher and a boy in a town in North Bengal where the main industry has shut down, do mirror contemporary culture and politics. Aniket Chattopadhyay’s 2019 movie Shankar Mudi (Shankar the Grocer) is a searing tale of how big retail and online shopping affect a kirana owner. More and more films are depicting “reality” and, importantly, telling stories in an intricate, engaging fashion bearing quality production.
Producers are certainly looking for quality writers. Himanshu Dhanuka, MD, Eskay Movies, paints a pessimistic picture: “After the death of director Rituparno Ghosh, there has been a void. There is a talent problem. There are no ground breaking stories. The last hero introduced in Bengali was probably a decade ago.”
Despite Dhanuka’s woes, Bengali streaming platform Hoichoi throws up a growing number of films and shows, including Mandaar and the other aforementioned films.
One can argue that this uptick is happening after the malaise was identified and called out. As Anirban Bhattacharya points out, “The Malayalam film industry is experimenting with films such as Bramayugam and Manjummel Boys. But in Bengal, there is no willingness or zeal to experiment with new themes.”
He adds, “There are filmmakers in Bengal who want to do everything with a reference point. They are using references from Mumbai or South Indian films and making movies. Bengali cinema has always been about ideas. If you want to explore an idea, you don’t need a big budget for it. It is impossible to convince people that small ideas still can be as penetrating as big films.”
MARKET MATTERS
Cultural, creative and financial challenges exist. Lack of interest by streaming platforms like Netflix and Amazon Prime Video in Bengali films—perhaps due to the fact that Hoichoi monopolises the content—may be hobbling the industry.
Mahendra Soni, cofounder, SVF Entertainment, a leading production house and distributor in Kolkata, says, “If I know about the existence of a film, then probably I will watch it. Some great films are being made every year in Bengal. They are not the talking points because there is no discovery of these films on inter national streaming platforms.” Soni is also cofounder of Hoichoi. “Today, a large number of southern films are mostly discovered through these international streaming platforms. But these platforms are not picking Bengali films because they have not built this category on their platforms thoroughly.”
The limited reach of Bengali films is a chicken-and-egg conundrum: people are not betting on good Bengali films because they don’t know of their existence, while there is a shortage of good Bengali content because nobody is putting their money there.
Director Arin Paul, who made the 2008 comedy 10:10, points out, “In the South, a film is simultaneously released in more than two states apart from the home state. So, there are multiple markets to make good money. In Bengal, filmmakers are largely dependent on the state itself for revenues. Even the budget of promoting Bengali films is very small.”
More than 80% of Bengali films are made within a budget of Rs 2 crore. Only films which boast big names can have budgets of Rs 5-7 crore. But the additional cost of promotion—between Rs 75 lakh and Rs 1.5 crore—is pretty much that of making the film. As a result, films are hardly marketed after their release and no one outside West Bengal, even among the Bengali diaspora, gets to know about them. This is something that OTT platforms like Hoichoi have started to rectify, especially since West Bengal has only 24 multiplexes when Maharashtra has 200.
Paucity of halls have a bearing on box office receipts.
West Bengal contributes only 7-8% of the total box office of Indian films.
Bengali film watchers are coming out of the moan-zone of ‘Oh, for the good old days’ as they are treated to better-made, bettertold, better-shown movies and shows.
Your turn, rest of the world.
