The poster boys

Time and technology have phased out the hand-painted film banners, but the artists’ skill continues to exhibit itself in other forms

October 24, 2014 05:49 pm | Updated May 23, 2016 07:31 pm IST

Crowd throng outside the Golcha Cinema hall which screens Salman Khan's film 'Maine Pyar Kyun Kiya'  Photo: V.V. Krishnan

Crowd throng outside the Golcha Cinema hall which screens Salman Khan's film 'Maine Pyar Kyun Kiya' Photo: V.V. Krishnan

Over the years, technology has made many art forms extinct. A case in point is that of replacement of hand-painted film banners and hoardings by vinyl and flex prints, rendering many talented and skilled artists looking for an alternative career. From the 1950s to the 2000s, films were publicised through crisp trailers (which a true cine buff never missed), sponsored programmes or advertisement spots on the radio and insertions in leading mainline and trade newspapers and publications. But the crucial medium to reach the masses and the last of the viewers were posters and hoardings depicting the heroes, heroines, villains and the action in the movie in such an elegant and fetching manner –– tantalising and inviting at one go –– resulting in whetting the appetite of the audience for some more. Not an easy task, considering the static images on the limited space had to grab the viewers’ attention and in a short span also convey the essence, emotions and action of the film.

Highlighting the importance of banners and posters, Sanjay Mehta of Bobby Enterprises remarks, “Consciously or sub-consciously, the larger-than-life depiction of the actors, action, sets and emotions of the film on a large banner always attracted filmgoers and enticed others. I personally feel that my banners of 40 feet by 20 feet played a crucial role in the run-up to the opening of the film.” Quite true if one pictures the hoarding of Trishul (1978) with Amitabh in a half-sleeved sweater flanked by Sanjeev Kumar and Shashi Kumar. Or Amar Prem (1972) depicting Sharmila resting her head on Rajesh Khanna’s shoulder.

The advent of machine-made vinyl posters which were easy to transport, economical and made in quick time rendered unemployed the artists who had raised the profession of making banners to a level of art. The final blow came in the form of civic authorities banning hoardings in the Capital around year 2000, reasoning that it distracted the vehicular and pedestrian traffic.

At the peak of this art, Delhi boasted of 10 to 12 studios which hired up to 100 artists. Laxman Kumar, who joined Rias Studio as an artist in 1977, says, “Initially, everyone joined as an apprentice and did all kinds of odd jobs like mixing colours, helping the main artists, etc. Over the years, one learnt graphing and sketching the images, then moving on to painting the side figures on the banner. It took almost seven to eight years to become an independent artist.” Laxman later moved on to become a poster designer –– a step higher than banner making –– as it was better paid and one got to affix one’s name on it.

Chetan Jain of Sunny Arts comments, “The period from 1965 to 2000 was the pinnacle for these artists with the main ones making up to Rs.15,000 a month and the assistants garnering nearly Rs.8,000.”

His father, Lala Ruliya Ram, was in the business of making banners and posters since 1949.

Laxman recalls there was no dearth of work at that time. “There was a healthy competition between the top artists, each wanting to do better.”

He remembers one Mahesh whose brush work and drawings for the banners of the 1973 film Prem Parbat (remembered for the song “Ye dil aur unki, nigaaho ke saaye” composed by Jaidev and sung by Lata Mangeskar) stood out.

Similarly, the knife-finish employed by artist Prithvi Soni for Rajesh Khanna’s Safar (1970) made the images stand out.

He praises another artist, Tilak Raj, who prepared the banners for Shashi Kapoor’s films including Junoon, Ajooba and Kalyug. “Tilak Raj-ji’s brush work was excellent and the images were life like.” Many a time, actors and directors who inspected the banners and posters, rewarded the artists. “Suniel Shetty appreciated the hoardings of Balwan (1992), his debut film, and tipped the artists. So did Raj Babbar and Ram Gopal Varma for Karm Yodha (1992) and Rangeela (1995), respectively,” adds Sanjay Mehta.

The history of cinema hoardings and posters dates back to the 1940s. Cinema buffs in their 70s and 80s still recall the giant cut-outs of Gemini Studio’s super hit Chandralekha (1948) depicting T.R. Rajakumari, M.K. Radha and Ranjan. The producer-director, S.S. Vasan, was reputed to have spent an astronomical sum on outdoor publicity. Similarly, banners of K. Asif’s mega hit Mughal-e-Azam (1960) brought alive the historical personalities of Akbar and Jehangir ensuring teeming audiences, including those not interested in movies.

Dinesh Gupta, manager at Rajshri Productions, remembers, “The film Thokar (1974) was a cheap buy for the distributor as it had no takers in the market. It did reasonably well at the box office on sheer publicity, that is, hoardings and posters.” Did the magic always work? Responds Dinesh, “No. Kamal Amrohi’s Razia Sultan (1983), for which an advertising blitzkrieg was done through a large number of hoardings, flopped.”

Painstaking was the artist’s job as he had nothing to go by except 100 to 150 colour photo sets and black and white stills of the film received by the distributor from the Mumbai-based producer.

Thereafter, the artist’s imagination and creativity took over and worked magic on the ply board or tin metal by working out a design, sketching the image, outlining it and finally colouring it. “The distributor depended on the tried and tested studio to deliver the goods and supervised the first hoarding only, thereafter leaving the rest to the contractor,” explains Chetan. Contrary to this, Sanjay, who was in film distribution business till three years ago, says, “I decided the banner designs and got them ready one week before the release of the film. Using large cutouts, enlarging the banner size, bulbs for illumination, silver and golden powder, decorations, etc., I ensured that the hoardings stood out,” reemphasising the point that the banners were the first contact point of the film with the potential audience. He gives examples of Angrakshak (1995) where the design showed Sunny Deol’s large cut-out holding a baseball bat with Pooja Bhatt resting her head on his shoulder. “I outlined the hero’s image with running lights. This movie fared well on the box office.” For Shah Rukh Khan’s Baazigar (1993), Sanjay asked the artist to use knife finish which heightened the villainous shade of the main protagonist of film which became a top grosser of the year. He credits the artists for experimenting and trying out new ideas.

Many a time the designer went beyond just creating real life images. For the Rajendra Kumar and Waheeda Rehman starrer Palki (1967), several sites showed the palanquin cutouts. For sites at Lothian Bridge, Daryaganj, Minto Road, Lal Quila, Delhi Gate, etc. and major halls, like Golcha, Plaza, Odeon, Rivoli, Moti, Jagat, Novelty, etc., the boards were decorated with beads and artificial flowers with cut-out of pillars, vehicles, animals and buildings heightening the attraction. The design of the banner was also decided on the basis of the area of the site where it was to be placed. In many cases, emphasis was on the romantic pair while for some sites action was depicted prominently. For Mera Gaon Mera Desh (1971), Dharmendra’s cutout astride a horse was erected on the side wall of Delite. For Satyam Shivam Sundaram (1978), the three sides of the entrance to Regal splashed Zeenat Aman.

Describing the inventive traits of artists, Dinesh recalls, “Many hoardings depicted horses, helicopters, guns, buildings and backdrops which were not part of the movie. The audience never realised the discrepancy and those who did probably ignored it.” The unemployment phase of their career did not force the artists to give up on their art though. Most turned to making portraits, tableaux and sceneries and backdrops for various events and making coloured drawings on school walls, continuing to harness their talent and experience.

“I have at home Ganesha and Lakshmi paintings made by these artists, ” says Sanjay. He claims, “Paintings of many were picked up by galleries and connoisseurs. Some are commissioned to reproduce well known paintings of Tanjore temples or Ajanta and Ellora statues to be passed off unscrupulously as vintage works.” Sanjay points out thatthe pub Thugs at Daryaganj’s Broadway Hotel is adorned with posters and paintings of Hindi film villains made by banner artists.”

Laxman, like many from his profession, is now an independent full-time artist and concentrates on realistic figures and portraits. He is also working on a series of paintings of Amitabh Bachchan and Dilip Kumar’s posters.

Though the art has died a quiet death, the contribution of these unsung artists in bringing actors and movies closer to cinema lovers will remain etched in the history of Bollywood.

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