Children’s cinema in India is underfunded and underwatched

The odds may be stacked against Indian children’s filmmakers but is there good intent to begin with?

May 13, 2017 04:01 pm | Updated 07:04 pm IST

Still from Gattu

Still from Gattu

Sometime in the 1960s, Satyajit Ray began toying with the idea of filming Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne . The story had originally been written and illustrated for Sandesh magazine almost 50 years back by his grandfather, the renowned writer, Upendrakishore Ray Chowdhury.

According to Ray’s biographer, Andrew Robinson, the auteur was compelled by both his existing desire to make a film for children, as well as his son’s insistence that he make something less “grim and adult”. When the “fantasy adventure” finally released in 1969—after a production schedule plagued by financial difficulties—the film was not just a smash hit but also won the best picture award at the National Film Awards in 1970.

It took more than three decades for another child-focused film— Shwaas (2004), about a boy suffering from retinal cancer—to win the coveted award. This, when the film to win the award on its inception in 1953 was Shyamchi Aai , a poignant tale about the relationship between a poor child and his mother. The jury is still out on whether Shwaas and Shyamchi Aai should be called children’s films or films with children as central characters.

However, what is indisputable is that children’s cinema in India doesn’t just remain underfunded but is also underloved and underwatched. Film directors claim a lack of funding; producers bemoan poor distribution and exhibition systems; and both lament the indifference of audiences—largely parents—towards children’s cinema.

Success abroad

As a result, even institutions set up specifically to produce, promote, and distribute children’s cinema struggle to get them released in theatres. For instance, the Children’s Film Society of India (CFSI), which receives a government subsidy to produce and champion children’s cinema, has had only one theatrical release in recent years—Rajan Khosa’s much-appreciated, but little-known film, Gattu (2012), about a child’s obsession with kites. Many other films, such as Shilpa Ranade’s Goopy Gawaiya Bagha Bajaiya —an animated take on Ray’s Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne —have visited numerous international festivals without seeing a theatrical release in the domestic market.

No wonder, filmmaker-poet-author Gulzar, the auteur behind the landmark coming-of-age film, Kitaab (1977), says that making them has always been a difficult task: “Cinema has been in the control of commercial houses for whom it was never feasible to make films (targeted) primarily at children.”

What is inescapable is the fact that the children’s film market is non-existent not just in Bollywood but in Indian cinema at large. “The collective contribution of all children’s films to the Indian box office is less than 0.2%,” says Shailesh Kapoor, chief executive of Ormax Media, a media consulting firm. A lot of the time, “family” films fill in for children’s films, at others you find them watching U/A shows replete with item numbers and violence. “Who cares about an I am Kalam which made only ₹67 lakh at the box office? Parents think that ‘if we take our children to such a film what will happen to our (own) entertainment’,” says Amole Gupte, one of the best contemporary children’s filmmakers in the country. “In Scandinavia, a children’s film earns more than a regular feature. Here it’s the opposite,” Gupte pauses, and then adds: “We need a renaissance in the Indian mind.”

It’s a typical chicken-and-egg situation where filmmakers point a finger at the lack of support from the market, and the market blames lack of quality content for its own growth. What’s worse is the competition from abroad, the quality content from the West that today’s children have access to.

“They expect an international quality output that requires a lot of money and expertise. We don’t have the foundation for that, to support the research and hard work,” says Santosh Sivan, the director of award-winning children’s films like Halo (1996) and Malli (1998).

Kapoor concurs and points out how the odds are stacked against Indian filmmakers: “Animation of international quality is expensive. Hollywood films can afford it because they have a worldwide market and box office recoveries can be huge.” So you have a The Jungle Book (2016), made on a budget of USD 175 million (approx. ₹1,200 crore), doing a business of over ₹180 crore in India alone. “A Hindi animation film cannot be made at even 5% of the cost of Hollywood films,” he says.

But it can’t just be about commerce. Recalling Ray’s contributions, especially in the realm of children’s literature, Gulzar says: “This kind of work requires a certain consciousness, an involvement with children. Are today’s filmmakers indulging in this?”

Very few filmmakers have the ability to communicate as equals with children. Most end up sermonising, giving life lessons to them in the name of telling stories. Even fewer are aware of children’s issues which, anyhow, keep changing rapidly with time. A good children’s film, like Kaaka Muttai (Tamil), has the ability to transcend age barriers and reach out to adults and children alike. However, we are saddled with filmmakers delivering “kiddish” content, even for adults.

Still from Kaaka Muttai.

Still from Kaaka Muttai.

Where’s the fun?

Ruchi Narain, whose animation film Hanuman Da’ Damdaar is up for release in June, says: “We pretend that movies such as Housefull count as children’s films and then wonder about the state of our cinema. And frankly, as far as animation films are concerned, looking at what has been made, I think people who have made films so far are not in love with animation and haven’t grown up with it,” she says. “ Arre yaar , you’re missing the main point. It has to be fun!”

There are not many committed to children’s cause. Most like to play it safe. “We don’t take enough risks and stick with tested genres—comedy, action, love story,” says Ajit Thakur, chief executive of Trinity Pictures, a division of Eros International, which is backing Gupte’s upcoming Sniff —about the adventures of a Sikh boy who has an evolved sense of smell. Thakur perceives children and teenagers as a demographic that can drive consumption if given good content. So they are building Sniff as a film franchise model creating an entire universe of merchandise, comic books and a game around it.

On the other hand, Monica Wahi, founder-director of South Asian Children’s Cinema Forum would rather not treat children as consumers. “Instead, we are looking at them as independent, thinking beings with minds and tastes of their own,” she says. Wahi, who has worked as a consultant and curator for Tata Sky on their newly-launched Tata Sky Kids Cinema channel, says that the popular assumption that children like a particular kind of action-adventure film is not entirely true. Children are much more likely to adore films that they can connect with emotionally, those that make them laugh, and most of all, those that surprise and enlighten them in some way. “Given how much discord there is in the world, it’s important to expose our children to a variety of content—especially thought-provoking cinema that makes them think and look inside themselves, as well as at the world in a different way.”

So over 150 films are expected to be screened over the next year on the channel—right from little-seen Studio Ghibli features to the Oscar-nominated The Secret of Kells (2009), Santosh Sivan’s Halo (1996) and Batul Mukhtiar’s Kaphal (2013).

Gulzar’s immovable thesis, passionately and repeatedly expressed, is that we, as a society, have failed children by shirking our responsibility of being involved in their lives. He adds that one of the best predictors of good children’s cinema is good children’s literature: “There’s barely any children’s literature in Hindi, as compared to say Bengali or Marathi.” Further, we have thrust upon our children the burden of our expectations—heavy bags, insurmountable examinations, and pre-defined career paths.

“The problem is society’s,” he says. “Not of the cinema alone.” According to him, fine arts are a reflection of the society—they can never change it. “We neither respect, nor care about kids. Have you seen any parks or playgrounds or means of entertainment devoted to children? The change has to come (from) within the society. This is beyond cinema. Why should cinema (alone) bear this responsibility?”

Both Gulzar and Gupte emphasis the need for a radical overhaul of our present thinking that refuses to consider children as human beings with needs and issues of their own. “Our words and actions are wildly divergent. We say children are the future yet our actions betray the duplicity of our words,” says Gulzar.

An uncaring society is the reason why Gupte emphasises the need for making more children’s cinema. “The issues of children need to be tabled,” he says.

“Otherwise they are disenfranchised, they are nobodies, and nobody cares about them. After all, they don’t have voting rights, do they?”

The writer is a photographer and founder of The Indiestani Project, a poetography collaboration.

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