Reviewing the reviewers Premium

At least in spirit, it is expected that the creators and commentators of culture would stand together. However, this is increasingly not the case

Indian cinema’s battles with censorship are long and storied. Film journalism, for the most part, has been sympathetic to its struggles. Curbs on artistic and intellectual freedom are unwelcome in any democracy. Regimes that obstruct or regulate art are equally unyielding on the free flow of information. In such a climate, it is conceivable that, at least in spirit, the creators and commentators of culture would stand together. However, this is increasingly not the case.

Filmmakers and producers expect tolerance, transparency, and nuance from governing authorities, yet they are often unwilling to extend the same to the press. A series of recent developments illustrated this fissure. From the scrapping of advance press screenings by a major Bollywood studio to YouTubers getting hit with copyright strikes for publishing negative reviews, film critics, journalists, and content creators are losing ground in an already cluttered mediascape. It is becoming puzzlingly hard to report honestly and incisively on Indian films; the scaffolding, however rickety, of good-faith disagreements is threatening to collapse.

There is, of course, some basis to the industry’s paranoid attitude towards the press. The digital age has made it difficult to sort genuine criticism from malice and sabotage. On social media, everyone is a critic or trade analyst. ‘Paid reviews’, welcomed when they are favourable, can become a nuisance when leveraged by a rival camp or star. We are also living in an age of boycott calls and engineered controversies: a passing remark by an actor can be taken out of context and circulated online, hurting the prospects of a release. So it is much easier, then, to limit interactions altogether, favouring harmless city tours and fan meets instead.

Both Bollywood and the regional industries have been censoring the media in subtle and unsubtle ways. Press conferences and promotional interviews are conducted in near-laboratory conditions — praises and frivolities are encouraged, as are all ‘film-related questions’; however, ask something pertinent or political and you will likely draw flak from the five different PR teams involved. Streaming platforms prefer to record interviews on their end; this affords them the advantage to snip off anything inconvenient or controversial at the editing stage. Actors are blithely ‘apolitical’, even when appearing in decidedly political films.

There are definitely problems with the entertainment media ecosystem at large. “Many reviews out of India are often political and paid for,” actor Abhay Deol told Gulf News in 2021. “Reviewers and critics have lost their credibility.” Money need not always be involved; the granting of access to movie stars is treated as a currency in itself. Sensational, provocative takes on the Internet tend to overwhelm more nuanced reactions. It is telling — and vaguely amusing — that televised award shows in India have a separate ‘critic’s’ category, the implication being that the main jury is bound by commercial constraints.

So, do filmmakers, production banners, and streaming platforms have a right to protect their interests in such a volatile atmosphere? Certainly. But summarily restricting the press is not a solution to their woes. A tent-pole release, riding on spectacle and star power, will still draw in audiences irrespective of reviews. However, it is the smaller, ‘Indier’ titles that will suffer, dependent as they are on positive critical noise before release. Fair, meaningful writing on cinema requires time and effort. Reviews dashed off in the mad rush of a Friday will lose quality and insight (or, at the very least, bear horrendous typos).

Also read | Film reviews intended to inform and enlighten, not to destroy and extort: HC