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ShareOne of these days, we will be able to see Rang De Basanti. Of course, by the time theatre projectors start unspooling the film, there may not be much left to show: there are more scissors lined up to take a snip off it than you would see in the world's largest barber shop.
Is life made as difficult for filmmakers anywhere in the world? Of course we are talking about democracies here: freedom of speech and freedom of expression are the main reason why the world chooses the chaos of democracy over the order of dictatorship. Yet for someone in the business of making movies, these aren't freedoms he can take for granted. The makers of Basanti, for example, have had to show their film to the Defence top brass (because there are MIGs in it), to the Animal Welfare Board (because there are animals in it)...and heaven knows which other vested interests. And each showing brings about its own cuts. The Army Chief, for example, wants the Defence Minister in the film to be identified only as a minister. The Air Force Chief wants Basanti's dedication to all dead MIG pilots to be enlarged to all dead pilots etc, etc.
These 'objections' are silly and gratuitous, but they are nevertheless binding. The Animal Welfare Board will, no doubt, want Basanti banned altogether because it used a dozen horses, four buffaloes and one cow in action without its formal approval. Yes siree, democracy for us means giving equal opportunities to everyone, irrespective of age, qualifications or wisdom, to be a censor.
Years ago I saw first hand what this process actually means. We had sent a selection of films for a film festival in Ireland. India's then Ambassador to that country later wrote to me saying that the movies were well received. But he wished we hadn't sent Mami Kaul's Duvidha, which is a Rajasthani folk story about a ghost who falls in love with a village girl and takes the physical form of her absent husband to live with her. "Such stories," the Ambassador intoned, "go against Indian culture."
Even more seriously, I saw how the Film Censor Board works. Most of the people on it are unqualified and voice no opinion, so effectively, the views of the ministry official prevail. The British film censors, on the other hand, have a full-time, permanent board made up of people who know and understand cinema.
Why should the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting tell filmmakers what can be done and what can't be done? The present minister, Priya Ranjan Dasmunshi, seems to be a liberal: he advocates self-regulation for television and plans to bring in a broadcasting bill that will "not give any scope for government intervention." He has also opposed the Health Minister's preposterous ban on smoking in the movies. But how long will Dasmunshi last? Some of his predecessors have included people like PA Sangma, who true to his expertise in unions, wanted films to be made on labour. Or Sushma Swaraj, who found the mention of condoms offensive, so decreed that AIDS advertisements be pulled off the air.
How absurd it is that in the year 2006, a minister gets up in Parliament, as Dasmunshi recently did, to announce that kissing is officially permitted in films! Dasmunshi, if he is a true liberal, will abolish himself: there is no place in a democracy for a Ministry of Information and Broadcasting. Certainly not one which has the authority to be arbitrary and whimsical, to dictate what is and isn't permissible; in effect, to tell film and television people what should and shouldn't be made and us the audience what we are and aren't allowed to see.
As it is, we live in a society where everyone wants to tell us that. People who have never read a book, ban books (most recently, Richard Laine's two histories because of their allegedly derogatory references to Shivaji). Or they pelt the actress Khushboo with tomatoes for suggesting that young people "take precautions" during pre-marital sex.
These super-censors sometimes make sure a film can't be made (Deepa Mehta's Water). Or if it's made and passed by the censors, it can't be seen (Jo Bole So Nihal). The censors themselves ban films that show too much reality (Black Friday, Paanch, any of Anand Patwardhan's films). And if Maneka Gandhi had her way, no films would ever be made which had animals in it.
If everything is out of bounds, what can filmmakers do but make escapist movies? That seems to be the only safe territory: boy and girl meet, sing, part, sing, meet, sing, all in Never-Never land. No history, no present reality, no hard-hitting expose of society's underbelly... Just romantic fluff. It's not exactly the stuff of a mature society, is it?
