There’s a WhatsApp group that I am a part of called ‘Dilliwalas’ whose members are film critics and journalists in Delhi with whom I have spent most of my career watching movies. It is also a forum for venting — why does the Mumbai press get to watch all the films, that too in advance, while Delhi has to remain largely clueless?
Often I am told how the right-hand corner aisle seat at Delite Diamond in Delhi, fourth row from the back, has been missing me. I yearn for my favourite spot from where I have carried out my film review duties for the longest time, while eating a maha samosa (four times the normal size) and drinking ‘expresso’ from disposable styrofoam cups.
Reviewing a film comes with its own rituals which change from city to city. The only constant for me from Delhi to Mumbai is my obsession with the aisle seat. I can’t do with any other.
WhatsApp groups too are different. The Mumbai critics WhatsApp group is enterprising and organised. Before a Friday ends, the next week’s films are listed; by the beginning of the following week, show timings are fixed and possible clashes of film previews averted after negotiations with PRs. Mumbai is deeply involved with films; Delhi courts them from a distance.
In Delhi, things are simpler. There is just one venue — the delightful, old-worldly Delite Diamond on Asaf Ali Road whose interiors look like Mughal-e-Azam sets. In my younger days there was also the Films Division Auditorium on Mahadev Road, where films were served to the press along with a modest cardboard snack pack.
In Mumbai there is no dearth of venues — from Famous Studios in Mahalaxmi for Marathi films, to the NFDC preview theatre in Nehru Planetarium for English releases, to Cinepolis in Andheri and PVRs in Juhu and Andheri for Hindi films. But my favourites are the small preview theatres — Sunny Super Sound, Lightbox, and The View (its recliners are perfect to practice shavasana when the film threatens to bore you to death). The chutney sandwiches are nice as is the cutting chai, but the samosas in Mumbai theatres just don’t match up to Delhi.
On the flip side, late-night screenings in Delhi would mean waiting for the office cab to safely ferry you home. In perennially awake Mumbai, there’s always an auto to jump into, without a care, even at 2 a.m.
Many of the screenings in Delhi were preceded or followed by our own chai and sabudana vada sessions at the Indian Women’s Press Corps or tea, pakoda and egg-on-toast at the Press Club of India. In Mumbai, the possibility of nei idlis , rasam rice, ven pongal and filter coffee at Dakshinayan between noon and matinee screenings in Juhu brightens up a critics’ day. The spoilers to filmi dates in Mumbai are the city’s infamous traffic snarls, especially if it’s a week of 10 Hindi releases.
