Arthouse vs commercial, who is real?

Finland is a small country with low inequality and high Human Development Index (HDI). Yet Finnish cinema auteur Aki Kaurismaki churns out films that are deeply critical of Finland’s socio-polity. He depicts existential realities of the marginalised working class in the north European nation. 

In contrast, India is a large country with stark inequality and it ranks low on HDI rankings. And our film industry has a considerable number of auteurs who have addressed the state’s apathy towards people and social inequality both through mainstream/commercial movies and arthouse/alternative cinema. 

Way back, Nargis Dutt, the late renowned Bollywood actor, had criticised Satyajit Ray as someone who ‘sells India’s poverty to the West’. Recently, Kannada actor-director-producer Rishab Shetty echoed her sentiment after his commercial film ‘Kantara’ won two National Film Awards. He said, ‘Indian films, particularly Bollywood, often portray India negatively. These so-called art films get showcased at international events and receive special attention. For me, my nation, my state, and my language are sources of pride. I believe in presenting them in a positive light to the world, and that’s exactly what I strive to do.”

What do Dutt’s and Shetty’s comments, made four decades apart, suggest? Are they simply airing their grouse that in spite of impressive commercial success, they haven’t been feted on the international stage as ‘artistes’ or invited to coveted film festivals even? Or are they making a critical statement that there is a larger cultural politics, one that recognises only such works that present an unduly poor view of one’s country as ‘art’? 

To understand it, one has to look at different outlooks to ‘what cinema is’ and how it has evolved between the time Dutt and Shetty made these comments.

Understanding cinema 

Cinema is an artistic endeavour as well as a financial enterprise. Whether it is arthouse or commercial, one needs a decent capital investment to produce a technically competitive work. But funds don’t naturally flow towards artistic instincts of cinema. 

Since the beginning of cinema in India, one with artistic instincts has struggled to mop up finance for production while one with ‘business proposition’ has attracted investments. Because of this inherent disadvantage, state film finance institutions were established to minimally aid cinematic projects which can potentially place Indian works on the global map of cinema as ‘art’. At the same time, the state supported cinema as a business in forms of subsidies and tax cuts. Because cinema is an industry like any other - it produces wealth. 

So even during the good days of proactive support from the state, cinema as an ‘art’ had been facing a financial crunch compared to cinema as ‘business’. In fact the National Film Awards were instituted in order to honour films which strive to be works of ‘art’. There already existed non-state business awards for commercial cinema. 

Films that were shortlisted and selected for the national awards were usually arthouse films. Films which were made for commercial gains were rarely considered.

Celebrate resilience? 

When Dutt made that comment, she was seemingly demanding the state’s recognition and honour for cinema as ‘business’. During her time, both commercial and arthouse films had content dealing with post-independence social issues. Dutt may have wondered what the difference was between ‘Do Bigha Zamin’ and ‘Mother India’? 

It was also the time when the Indian state was assuming the leading position in the global south. Dutt’s remarks, thus, contain the underlying argument that cinema should show resilience of people against socio-economic odds. The commercial films were doing that. But films made within the frame of neo-realistic grammar were portraying a bleak state of society. 

It’s paradoxical that National Film Awards added the category of ‘Best film for National Integration’ in Dutt’s name after her demise when the state was itself struggling to contain regional discontent and communalism.

Business gains 

Since the advent of neo-liberal era, the state has effectively withdrawn from financially supporting cinema as ‘art’ and is carving out all possible measures to promote cinema as ‘business’. The social and economic environment in India today is overwhelmingly weighted towards cinema as a ‘profitable business venture’. In the last half a decade, the National Film Awards have become the worst copies of non-state business house awards, tilting the balance of the ‘recognition of best cinematic work’ towards cinema of ‘commerce’. What’s more? The award for National Integration was shelved in 2022 and the last film to bag that award was ‘Kashmir Files’, which critics had dubbed as jingoistic. 

Shetty’s twin wins signal the triumph of the idea of cinema as ‘profitable commerce’ too. His comment underscores the ‘pride for nation’, which can’t be overlooked in the present context of chest-thumping patriotism and global aspiration to be ‘Vishwa Guru’. His comment hints at the fact that now cinema of commerce has been put on the national pedestal, it’s time to bestow international honour upon it. On the surface, his words are directed at the powerful Bollywood ‘business cinema’ stars thronging the red carpet at places like the Cannes Film Festival. But the sub-text seems to be channelled towards the likes of indie arthouse filmmakers like Payal Kapadia and Anusuya Sen. 

In such a context, he might not have even wondered about the difference between mainstream grammar in films like ‘Karnan’ and ‘Kantara’.

Manufacturing consensus

Whatever may be one’s view of social and economic projections of a country, the field of arts, including cinema, is concerned with mundane struggles of its people. The relation between the state’s ambition to project progress and an ‘artistic’ view of the implications of such progress on people’s lives is at the heart of the debate. The state wishes to reflect its ideology of progress in every sphere of our lives and hence consolidate consensus for its ideology. Such ‘manufactured social consent’ develops popular support for such ideology. Does a work of ‘art’ challenge such popular consensus and strive to unveil the real lives of people? Or does it work towards capitalising such consensus, thus reinforcing the common sense? These are some questions to be critically looked into. 

From pushing the works of art that challenge the consensus into the bin of ‘films that portray a bad picture of the country’ to championing ones that exploit the consensus for commerce as an effort to uphold ‘national pride’, both are clever ways of reinforcing dominant social views. 

Dutt and Shetty’s comments are public rehearsals of ‘art in service of dominant ideology’.

(The author is a senior film critic and teaches sociology)