Dark political thrillers and historical films: Indian cinema is obsessed with politics and history

Indian cinema is a paradox. Up to a thousand films are produced each year in the major film studios – more than in any other country in the world. The new blockbusters from Bollywood and South India are widely discussed in the media, controversially debated, and regularly cause scandals. However, they receive little attention abroad. Only a handful of Indian films make it to the major festivals in Europe and America, and they are rarely shown in cinemas in Switzerland or Germany.

Anyone who wants to know what's happening in Indian cinema would have to travel to India. What topics are preoccupying filmmakers today? And what do films tell us about Indian society? To find answers to these questions, no place is better suited than the cinemas of Mumbai. Old Bombay is home to Bollywood's film studios. Big stars like Shah Rukh Khan call it home. And it's still home to some of the most beautiful cinemas.

Regal , Metro , and Eros are the names of the old movie palaces in the city center. Built in the 1930s and 1940s in the Art Deco style, they rise from central squares like a promise. Even nearly a century after their inauguration, their towering facades still appear futuristic. While most of them have since been modernized, the Regal cinema still exudes the slightly dusty charm of bygone times.

So, off we went to the cinema. At the Regal, a ticket costs 200 rupees in the stalls and 250 on the balcony, the equivalent of 2.50 Swiss francs. Unlike the expensive, modern multiplexes, the Regal still only has one large auditorium. The program changes once a week, showing only one film at a time. The program primarily features the new Hindi blockbusters. The Regal is therefore the right place to get an idea of ​​​​Indian mainstream cinema.

From the old-fashioned entrance with the ticket counters, a double staircase with large mirrors and cubist motifs leads up to the gallery. When the Regal opened, it was India's first air-conditioned cinema. Today, it's worth bringing a jacket if you don't want to freeze. Earplugs are also recommended, as it can get quite loud. And patience is required, as you rarely leave the cinema for less than three hours.

After twelve weeks in theaters, the first thing that strikes me is that Indian cinema is full of surprises. Not only can the characters, even in a political thriller, start singing and dancing at any moment, but the plot is also full of abrupt twists and scene changes. The number of characters, locations, and storylines is almost overwhelming. Often, it seems as if the filmmakers have combined several films into one – genre shifts included. Audiences take it in stride; they're used to the confusing, erratic plot.

The shelves primarily feature dark political thrillers, gangster films, and historical dramas. Harmless romances or dramas rarely make it to the big screen. Before the film begins, the audience rises to their feet when the national anthem is played. This sets the tone. After twelve weeks in theaters, the impression is one of: India's big blockbusters are loud, violent, action-packed—and deeply nationalistic.

With the exception of a few rare comedies, politics and history play a central role in all films; indeed, the filmmakers seem almost obsessed with them. Take " Chhaava ," for example. This historical film, which was one of the biggest box office hits this spring, tells the story of the Maratha leader Sambhaji, who rebelled against the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb in the 17th century but was captured, tortured, and executed after a long struggle.

In "Chhaava," the Muslim Aurangzeb is portrayed as a foreign ruler occupying Hindu Hindustan. The film presents the Hindu Sambhaji's struggle against the Mughal emperor as a fight for swaraj (self-rule), thus portraying it as a precursor to the anti-colonial struggle for independence in the 20th century. With its aggressive pathos, the film fits seamlessly into the Hindu nationalism of the current government.

The final torture scene, in which Aurangzeb has his captured enemy's eyes gouged out and his tongue torn out, lasts no less than forty minutes. The agonizingly long scene's iconography is reminiscent of a crucifixion, with Sambhaji in the role of martyr and savior. After the film's release, Hindu nationalists in Maharashtra demanded that Aurangzeb's tomb be destroyed in revenge for Sambhaji's killing. This even led to riots in one town, resulting in several deaths.

" Emergency " is no less political. The film is a biopic of Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, who, in a much-criticized decision to declare a state of emergency in 1975, plunged Indian democracy into crisis . Director Kangana Ranaut, who also plays the main character in the film, is a member of parliament for the ruling party. Unsurprisingly, her sympathies lie with Gandhi's Hindu nationalist opponents.

Despite her close ties to the government, "Emergency" was held up by censors for almost a year because of its brutal scenes of violence. Upon its release, the film faced harsh criticism. Critics complained that Ranaut's portrayal of Gandhi was caricatural. Most importantly, they accused her of taking too many liberties with the facts. Indeed, as with many Indian historical films, historical accuracy cannot be relied upon.

With " Kesari Chapter 2 ," it's also worth rereading what really happened. The film tells the story of the Jallianwala Bagh massacre in 1919. British General Dyer ordered the massacre of peaceful demonstrators in the northern Indian city of Amritsar. The massacre became a turning point for the Indian independence movement and still plays an important role in political memory today.

In the film, Indian lawyer Sankaran Nair accuses General Dyer of the massacre in court. His fiery speeches are met with applause from the cinema audience. The courtroom drama is thrillingly staged, but there's a problem: The trial never took place, and Dyer was never charged. While the lawyer Nair existed, he played a completely different role. By so freely mixing fact and fiction, the film does nothing to clarify the truth—on the contrary: it misleads the audience.

The two political thrillers "The Diplomat" and "Ground Zero" stay much closer to reality. Both films deal with the conflict with arch-enemy Pakistan – a perennial favorite in Indian politics and cinema. " The Diplomat " tells the story of the Indian ambassador to Islamabad, who, in 2017, bravely and wittily tries to protect a young Muslim Indian woman who has fled to the embassy to escape her violent Pakistani husband.

" Ground Zero, " on the other hand, is about an officer in the Indian border guards in Kashmir who tries to put an end to a Pakistani terrorist gang. For an Indian film, the portrayal of the Kashmir conflict is surprisingly nuanced and realistic. The film makes no secret of the fact that most Kashmiris perceive the Indian troops as an occupying force, and that the youth's lack of prospects fuels the terror. In the end, of course, it is the officer who triumphs over the terrorists.

While the plots in other action films such as " Jaat ," " Raid 2 ," " Sikandar ," and " Empuraan " are fictional, politics also play a central role. In all three films, the heroes are confronted with unscrupulous, power-hungry, corrupt politicians and violent police officers—a staple of Indian cinema. "Empuraan" sparked a scandal after its release because its opening scenes were reminiscent of the bloody anti-Muslim pogroms in Gujarat in 2002. Following criticism from Hindu nationalists, the filmmakers apologized and released a new, scrutinized version.

What's striking is that, with the exception of the Indira Gandhi biopic "Emergency," all of the films feature men as main characters. Women appear only in supporting roles, usually as caring mothers, loving wives, or innocent victims who must be protected, defended, or avenged by the hero. The typical hero of Indian action cinema is a tough man with wild hair and a thick beard—merciless toward his enemies, yet with a soft heart and a strong sense of justice.

The dramaturgy of Indian action films often follows the same pattern. When the hero appears, only his feet are shown at first – a scene filled with meaning, as he gets out of a car, a train, or an airplane. The fight scenes are also similar from film to film. They are extremely brutal, yet highly stylized. The fighting is predominantly done with bladed and stabbing weapons. Usually, the hero faces a wild, machete-wielding mob alone.

When the hero strikes down his enemies one by one and whirls them through the air, plausibility plays as little a role as the laws of gravity. The fight scenes are certainly entertaining, but they don't really create any suspense, because the outcome is clear. After all, the hero is invulnerable and possesses almost superhuman strength. What he lacks, however, is humor. A quick-witted line rarely generates laughs in the cinema.

The heroes in "Empuraan," "Sikandar," and "Jaat" are played by superstars Mohanlal, Salman Khan, and Sunny Deol—all men of retirement age. Aloof and old-fashionedly cool, they deliver their parts with a straight face, leaving the action scenes to their stunt doubles. Even though the men seem a bit stiff these days, the studios are sticking with them. Because these superstars are considered a safe bet.

But Indian cinema is clearly in crisis. Even on Saturday nights, the rows are sparsely filled, and the cinema has been threatened with closure for years. Like the film industry in the West, Bollywood is struggling with declining audiences. In 2019, cinema occupancy was already at just 15 percent, and the COVID-19 pandemic has only exacerbated the situation. Streaming services are now doing their part to keep viewers at home.

The number of film releases has declined, and some cinemas lack new blockbusters to fill their schedules. Expensive productions are proving to be flops, and producers are at a loss. Industry insiders believe the reason for the crisis is that Bollywood has been dominated for years by a handful of actors and production companies who decide which films are made. Film critics have therefore long been calling for fresh faces, original stories, and clever scripts. Many studios, however, are unwilling to take risks.

That Indian cinema can also do things differently was evident at the major film festivals in winter and spring. The socially critical police thriller " Santosh ," the poetic drama " All We Imagine as Light ," and the coming-of-age film " Girls Will Be Girls " thrilled critics and audiences alike. It's striking that they were all directed by women. When you add in the comedy of errors " Laapataa Ladies ," which put India in the Oscar race, it becomes clear that India isn't lacking in acting talent, original ideas, or relevant topics. They just don't make it to cinemas like Regal.