OF PLAYHOUSE, POPULAR CINEMA AND PHILOSOPHY

What began as a mere observance, and then nostalgia for the films that
I watched in my childhood, the good old VCR days, led to curiosity to
inquisitiveness, and I began searching for ways to quench that thirst,
to connect the threads that I had left behind. 
The first impressions of the place reminded me of 80s, the time I began
to see the world for the first time. While the world around has changed,
things seem to be on a stand-still here; it looks like a microcosm of any
North Indian space, a construct that I belong to. 
What began as a means to understand the buildings, architecture, films,
halls, became an effort to understand myself in newer contexts, to
understand my extended family members, to understand the space
and construct that I come from. 
The issues broadly focused were:
·         The history of the neighbourhood and the cinema halls
·         The economics in and around the cinema halls

· How films get continually rearticulated within specific historical conjuncture of their multiple screenings.

· The conditions determine the re-release of certain films, and the material conditions involved in making such a decision?

· The relationship between the cinema/entertainment building-space and the residential building-spaces and culture.

The reactions and feedback about their experience of new people while watching the films at these theatres.

The cinematic experience remains just a word without an audience that appreciates it. The audience comes from this landscape. However, history says it is the cinema halls and not the landscape that was built around the other.

This neighborhood is a part of the larger Central Mumbai and is close to Mumbai Central on the north, Nagpada and Byculla on the north-east, Do Tanki and Minaara Masjid on the far east, Bhuleshwar and Kalbadevi on the south, Lamington road on the west and Khetwadi as its immediate affluent neighbour. While all the areas in the vicinity are relatively better off in terms of class mobility, this locality remains visibly poor and exploited. Nevertheless its existence remains marked only by Kamathipura as its adjacent road and Foras Road as its immediate neighbour.

A group of 17 cinema halls make business in this neighbourhood: Palace, Alexandra, Nishat, Royal, Gulshan, Alfred, New Roshan, Super, Shalimar, Novelty, Silver, Moti, Alankaar, Naaz, Dreamland, Swastik, Apsara, Central Plaza, and Maratha Mandir. Of these cinema halls, the paper concentrates on Nishat, Royal, Gulshan, Alfred, New Roshan and Super; six in all.

These cinema halls are a visual delight to anyone passing by them, regardless who it might be, an insider or a tourist. These halls are an integral part of a memory of the neighbourhood, in a very romantic sense. Not to mention the various quirks that comes alive as one walks by them. For instance, Alfred has a tradition of painted posters, which inevitably has the hero pointing a gun. Whenever my students and I passed by Alfred, someone from the group would always remind me of the eminent danger i.e. the possibility of being shot by the hero from the posters. This is just to show how the cinema affects the living experience there.

These theatres have already etched their place in the annals of time. It is truly remarkable how a product of the past can cater to the needs of the present. In this context, it is interesting to understand the negotiation of these structures to the present and their ability to survive; being static in frame, time and space. Their stature exudes a sense of grandeur; yet their oneness with the landscape is worthy of mention. In the mornings, they look so very still and quiet, like a mirage in the desert, intangible to the senses, and paint a very exotic picture, timeless and eternal.

The negotiations of the neighbourhood vis-à-vis people have been varied.

As Mehmood aptly describes the place, “This is the eight wonder of the world. It is this hyacinth which looks very organized, but is dirty and stagnant. This is one place where you can get anything and everything that you want at any point of time, food, sex, dope, lottery and other forms of gamble; ask anything and you can have it. One can enjoy all the pleasures here within a meager sum of 100 bucks. The food, a complete meal, does not cost beyond 20-25 Rs, cinema tickets for another 13 Rs, dope for another 10-15 Rs, alcohol as cheap as 25-30 Rs, gamble for whatever amount, and physical desires can be satisfied according to the bargaining capacity. HAR CHEEZ KA BHOJAN AAP 100 RUPEES MEIN KAR SAKTE HAIN!!!” Another of his dialogue, which explains the notoriety of the place, is equally interesting. “But the common man is finished. Once on this road, the pick-pockets won’t leave you and your money, if you are lucky, the lure of the entertainment district will definitely work its charm on you and rob you of your money again. If you are spared, the prostitutes wont, go ahead, there are eunuchs waiting for you!!!”

This place/cinema halls
work on the principle of
“crowd mentality”. People flock
to see that film, where there is
too much of crowd. “DIKHAVA
HI BIKTA HAI”. 
 
He laments over the way his
life has turned: “MY FAMILY IS
VERY DECENT, BUT I HAVE
BECOME ‘LOCAL’. I like the
word ‘local’ as opposed to the
concept of aloofness of the
family, here.    
 
Mr Soli Arya, the owner of
Royal theatre talked of a
certain meeting with an
important police official.
The official said, “the film
industry works in the darkness
of the hall and in the process,
is sparing the society from other
kinds of darkness-theft, robbery
etc. Your cinema hall engages
not only ‘good’ people in the
society, but ‘bad’ people as well. Thanks to you, the crime rate has gone down”.
 
Mehmood said, “You are researching
on the cinema halls, why don’t
you write about the pickpockets
around these cinema halls?
Local gangs thrive around these
theatres and rob poor people of
their money (an incident where
a poor man was robbed of the
money meant for medicines,
but what is gone is gone).
The police apparently are aware
of all the gangs in the area,
and the evident process of
sharing the loot happens.
Looks like another film on roll.
The at-all-times-closed- police- chowki is
symbolic of the hopeless situation in the area.
General characteristics of the halls:
  • They are old structures and their outward appearances haven’t changed since their inception. They are of solid masonry, which is to say that, the status of the cinema venue as a ‘building’: a celebration of consolidation and legitimization, of a new institution taking root, that the cinema is here to stay; it is a social reality and a means of communication and entertainment to be reckoned with.
  • There is a concept of extended space in every cinema hall, which is a very vital thing for me.
  • All the halls house a ‘Dargah’ in their complex. While the general opinion about their inception is that “this place was originally a cemetery, where the dead of all communities were disposed off. However, Dr. Afzal, a prominent citizen in the area, holds another view. He opines that there were no cemeteries earlier. People then always wished to get buried or cremated in their own spaces. So the property owners were buried in their own spaces. So these Dargahs are the “Kabr” of those property owners. However these are not meant for prayers. However, with the passage of time, these “Kabr” have become the places of worship for the ordinary masses.” This phenomenon is an outcome of fear of the dead. I remember a resident of Dinath building telling me, “When the Dargah of Taj was demolished to give way to a residential complex, the water levels rose in spite of repeated attempts to throw it away for a couple of days. It was only when the Dargah was restored, did the water levels subside”.
·         The halls don’t have the concept of seat numbers, with the exception of Alfred, since there is no such thing as advance booking here. The audience reactions range from – “I got the ticket, don’t bother me now” to “I asked for the corner seat, why didn’t you give it to me then?” to “The entire godown is empty. Why are you clubbing us together in three rows only?” 

· These halls are not just there for the sake of pleasure only. They have varied functions to perform. For the audience, who buys the tickets for 3 hours, the hall is a private space to relax, sleep, and fantasise. In a very peculiar way, it becomes a home, a shelter from the harsh world just a few steps away. The audience also comes to these halls for other basic necessities, like the toilet and the bathroom. They are a poor man abode. In the night, they become the sleeping dens for all their employees who do not have a home elsewhere. This also aids in the security of the halls. It is not just the employees who make use of them, but the vagrants, and the numerous hawkers around there.

 
The people:

“A person who watches a film 4 times, has no story of his own…he does not have any tension, of business, or of home…ROZ KUA (well) KHODNA HAI, ROZ PANI PEENA HAI…watching a film is harmless entertainment, it’s a guarantee that the person will not go astray…Watching a film is as harmless as going to MELA, it is pure entertainment…One must watch a film, so that he learns something from the film…--Narayan, the ‘director’-vegetable vendor.

 
“After Manoj Tiwari, the hit Bhojpuri film hero, finished performing in Mumbai for his Bhojpuri fans in a huge complex, it was his turn to rest. The Green Room had an A.C., which he could not tolerate and asked for it to be switched off and demanded for a fan instead… that is the kind of hero for such masses”.
--Mr. Sarfaraz Dawood, distributor, Nishat 
 
“These people are like that only…they refuse to change…look at this hotel, “Yaadgar-E-Punjab”, the owner got it renovated, and his business has dwindled after that… people now refuse to go there because they are aware that they will be charged for that renovation… instead, they will eat at Nekzaad, where nothing has changed for ages…”   
--Muzzafar Husain, local resident.
 

Mr Feroz Rangoonwala (film historian): The audience creates its own ethos and establishes its own control over others and the film. This is visible in the following ways: ability to get in and out of the hall at any time they want, ability to choose the place for viewing, not by an imposition, but by their might and right, ability to buy tickets at affordable rates and times, ability to choose from more than 9-10 theatres in the neighbourhood, ability to sit with legs on the front row, to spit and smoke at desired place, to clap and whistle at different points in film viewing, to sleep and wake up at their own leisure at the right scene and the right song, the one that they want to watch.

 
 

Another interesting quote from a certain young man: “Only work is worship, for us. I cannot take breaks on holidays (Eid and other religious festivals), not pray, nor be faithful to my religion. HUM TO GUNHEGAR HAI, ISLIYE PURA TIME KAAM KARTE HAI”.

The role of the woman does not extend beyond the womb and its fertility (therefore so much of importance to the body/appearances); the men can also be reduced to stereotypes of masculinity. They manifest themselves from questions like “Tumhare baap-bhai kamate nahi hai kya?” (Mr. Salim, Shalimar) to constant repetition of “You must do something; at least write about these prostitutes”, and “Teen-aat-nau(389) ke chokre bade jigarwaale hai, kisise darte nahi. Marte hain ya to maarte hain!” (Mehmood)

Talking with women there is another exercise to understand how they negotiate with this male dominated place, of which I cite one example: “Get down the ‘Dinath’ building, cross the Patte Bapurao Marg (so that you’ve avoided Roshan and Gulshan and their cheap crowds), walk by the hotels (because they are decent), avoid Alfred also in the process and then head towards the respective destinations”. The women here confined to their ghettoized spaces, have come to accept and like this confinement. Of the three instances that I’ve spoken to the women there, two and a half conversations out of three were centered around husbands, children, sex lives, jewelry, appearances, sexuality, restraint, and religion of course. While this was not helping my purpose, I enjoyed the whole feeling of intimacy and sisterhood. Where their priorities lie, can be aptly understood by what this woman, a divorcee, said to me as I left, “Pray to God for my marriage!”

 
Both Nausheen and Tazeen told me about a certain locale called Arab Gali, notorious for its eve-teasing; no girl can escape it if she is walking around there. Alternatively, this area (Patthe Bapurao Marg) is better many times; because women are respected and not teased at all (I will also vouch for that). “Badnami ko badnaam nahi karna chahiye. This area is notorious for its whore-house, but that does not interfere with anyone of us.”

For me, the experience extends beyond the woes, when those staying around crack certain jokes and exchange trivia centered on the film. Tazeen, a resident of Dinath, checked on the posters, which indicated the film as “Khudagawah”. But the film screened was “Sholay”, so Sridevi was a part of the suspense, who never appeared, and they went rolling over the floor. They get to hear films for free. It is the beauty of these small instances that make this process worthwhile.

 
The biggest nuisance for everyone- residents is the whore house. The cinema halls come in only second. They have got very used to the chaos around the theatres. In fact, the chaos around the theatres is very little, as compared to the traffic and honking cars on the busy street. Yet, there are certain timings of the day where the noise and crowd increases-11.30, 1.30, 2.30; basically after every one and half hour. To quote Mehmood again, “Noise is not too much of a problem, but certain sounds are very irritating- the ringing bells for an hour after the show starts and the distributors’ men shouting “12-15” (the tickets rates), at Roshan.” 

Motilal Gupta, age 58, staying in Manik building from Jaunpur is the head of the hawkers. He suffers from Filaria-Elephant-foot disease. He sells vada-pav that his daughter makes every morning and he swears by the ingredients that go into its making despite its low cost; 2 Rs. He awakes at 4 am to fill water, goes to sleep, again gets up at 8 am to freshen-up and reaches the theatre by 11 am. He watches TV during dinner and sleeps by 12 am. There have been times in his life where he has slept in Gulshan, Roshan, Alfred, on the pavement as well. Every Sunday he collects the ‘hafta’ and hands it over to the local police; which is why he is regarded the head of the hawkers there. He sells his wares at Alfred at 1:15 pm, 4:15 pm, 7:15 pm 10:15 pm and 1:35, 4:35, 7:35 and 10:35 at Gulshan. These times apart one can always see him seated near Dinath building.
 
Talking about hawkers, Mehmood’s business in the area doesn’t get affected by the theatres, but the hawkers survive on them, although theatres think of them as “GANDAGI”. Why this laidback attitude towards life, OF HAWKERS: they like it here, the people, everything here. BANDAR BOLTA HAI, GARMI KE BAAD, SARDI KE BAAD, BAARISH KE BAAD GHAR BANAUNGA.” But that never happens. However, if the BMC disrupts them 3-4 times, they will leave the place. (But he will not allow that- he is the Robinhood- GARIBO KA DAATA- no one should harass the poor, if I can help, I will…)

When Dr. Afzal was narrating the history of the neighborhood and the whore house; I was thinking “My God! Am I watching a film?” ‘What feeds what’ is the question that I ask as an outsider, both to the neighbourhood and the films?). Another question that erupts in my mind is, “Is the sensibility of the people directed to towards only the primacy of bodily desires?” It is very evident that whores are a major component of the ecosystem. It is interesting to take into account the other women as well.

Mr. Qadir, owner of Roshan, cited this very interesting story about a certain mythological king who killed about 8 men in the name of sacrifice under the pretext of betterment of his masses. People got very upset about this and reported it to the greatest sage in the kingdom. After a lot of discussions, it was decided that the present king should be done away with and his brother be made the king. And so did it happen. The new king ordered for 25 men to be sacrificed under the pretext of the betterment for the kingdom. People were upset then all the more. Thus, whatever is present is the perfect thing that can happen to you, the future can be even worse. He calls it “PRESENT PERFECT”. Like the hopeless present, the theatres are better off today, and the future can be as speculative as the nation and the city they are housed in.

For me, the understanding the cinematic experience in these halls is as complex as can be. For Mehmood, it is as simple as, “it is the distributors like Bansilal (Gulshan) and Ehsaan (Roshan), who decide the films, according to their economics and connections. The audience does not really have a choice.” For Mr. Gaglani, “It is all a matter of timing. A particular Bhojpuri film did not work well in Super, because it was shown in Alankar 2-3 weeks ago. So, if a film is shown in a bigger hall only some time ago, it will be a flop here, because they have already watched the film there”.

I remember watching a couple of films on human rights in Tri-Continental film Festival at NCPA. Most of them were documentaries from Libya, Venezuela etc. though I remember all of them, with a reporting / journalistic kind of memory, there was one film that stood apart. Though I don’t remember the titles of any, this film is a fictional tale about David, an Israeli soldier, who falls in love with the beautiful Palestinian cashier, Fatima, despite the animosity between their families' dueling restaurants. However, the couple's love for each other withstands a 2000 year old conflict of their families' desire to control the future of the chickpea market in the Middle East and they live happily ever after. While the conflict is as real as history, the setup is artificial, like a fairy tale replete with songs and dance and happy endings, as opposed to real, open ended documentaries. Well, what’s peculiar here is that when I remember that film, my face brightens up, and a smile

comes up. I guess that’s what cinematic experience all about!!!!

 
For me, exploring the various faces of the relationships within the neighbourhood, meant exploring the many facets of humanness, so stereotype and plain, yet beautiful and individual, that you remember each aspect at certain points in life.

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