That recessions should be friendly to the film industry seems like commonsense. Hammered by bad news from all sides, of course audiences would turn to escapist fantasies for a distraction from their miseries, right? Accompanied by those jumbo servings of pop and popcorn, the resulting therapy would be so much cheaper than funding a new psychiatrist or investment analyst.
History also bears witness that film factories don?t have to fear rough economic weather overmuch. After all, American people continued to flock to the theatres during the Great Depression, that hallowed standard for current conditions. Except, they didn?t.
Sure, following the advent of the talkies, turnout rose between 1929 and 1930. But as joblessness spiraled up, film attendances began to fall, seeing a colossal 40% drop in 1933. It was much later in the decade, just before the country pitched itself into World War II, that ticket sales began to pick up again. And in contrast to perceived wisdom, not all the films that made it big during the period were ditzy diversions. Certainly, there were bountifully escapist exercises like the Garbo classic Grand Hotel, set in a plush placel where ?people come, people go. Nothing ever happens.? Or the Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers musical Flying Down to Rio, which is all about an aviator and bandleader flirting with the lady guests. But many contemporary releases matched the grimness of their times, releases like I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, where a skilled tradesman from the construction industry is persuaded to rob a diner to cope with tough times, finally degenerating into a hobo.
In the Indian context, since the statistical archive doesn?t support a historical ticket sales investigation, we can only pursue a formulaic match between film blueprints and the state of the economy, which proves no less complex in the Bollywood than in the Hollywood case. Take the biggest (inflation-adjusted) grosser of all times, Sholay . Released when the economy was in its classic Hindu growth phase, clocking a sad 1.2% growth in both 1974-75 and 1976-77, what escapist statement does it represent? Arguably, what it offers is a version of the same impotent rage that one sees in I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, summed up in the latter?s dialogue sequence: ?How do you live? I steal.? When the bottom falls out of the economy, when millions of people go bankrupt or lose their jobs, when hardship dawns, then contempt for law and government seems to attract screen writers.
Today, there is a set of commentators rushing to counteract the negativity in the market by declaring that the latest films from Sharukh, Aamir and Akshay are bringing the smiles back to the Bollywood trade. Not all the releases on which this claims rest are yet out in the market, so it?s actually too early to cry mission accomplished. But even Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi, the first of the relevant releases supposedly luring audiences back to movie halls, hasn?t bombarded us with quite the publicity blitzkrieg that one expects of King Khan. Even making allowances for the Mumbai attacks having been a factor, surely the bang should have been bigger than it has been. Even if the recoveries from
Indian and overseas theatres, home video and satellite fields are average, the Yash Raj production house will walk away with loaded pockets. Does this, however, set up a positive prognosis for the rest of the industry? Not really.
Words are piling up on how distributers and exhibitors are pulling the breaks on their investments, and even stars are increasingly accepting off-record pay cuts. Other wage earners are worse affected, with the advances of the recently concluded workers strike now being compromised by politic paymasters? latest argument: ?no funds hence no payment?. Out west, George Clooney, Matt Damon, Morgan Freeman and Tom Hanks are trying to persuade their guild that a recession is no time for taking up the strike that it is considering.
renuka.bisht@expressindia.com
