Issue #5: An unlikely savior
Disclaimer from the author: The intention of this essay is not to endorse or glorify piracy. Creating a movie requires the combined efforts of hundreds of cast and crew members, each striving to earn a livelihood. In these difficult times, everyone is trying their best to make ends meet, and it is crucial to recognize and respect the hard work and dedication that goes into film making.
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I have always been of the opinion that the tastes of the larger Indian audiences in films and shows have been somewhat infantilized by the CBFC (Central Board of Film Certification). This idea, which has been simmering within me for several years, finally came to a head earlier this month when numerous enthusiastic moviegoers felt compelled to use unauthorized methods to view the newly released film, Monkey Man. Starring and directed by British actor Dev Patel.
It was evident from the get-go that this film would struggle to release in India. First, it was dropped by Netflix due to its political undertones. Netflix’s decision is hardly surprising. Last year, The Washington Post published a detailed report illustrating how streaming services such as Netflix and Amazon have been compelled to self-censor their content in India, in response to increasing pressures from the government and conservative groups.
Fans who were looking forward to the first trailer of the movie concluded after watching the trailer that this movie would face a substantial challenge in getting a release in India, particularly because it incorporates various elements inspired by the longstanding societal divisions in India, along with additional aspects that subtly or overtly reflect the current cultural and political landscape of the country. It seems the distributors were likely aware of this issue as well because in a later trailer, the color of the flags representing an evil political party in the movie was changed from saffron (associated with Hindu nationalists) to red (representing Communists). It could be an artistic choice, but its rather an odd one if we are being honest.
Recently, journalist Aroon Deep submitted an RTI (Right To Information) request to the Censor Board seeking a formal statement on whether the film has been banned in India. However, the board declined to comment.
The movie was never released in India, and in the meantime, it has finished its theatrical run in North America and is now available for digital streaming. Urban film enthusiasts, eager to see the film, realize that even if it is eventually released in India, it will likely be a heavily edited version, far removed from the original artistic vision of the director. Therefore, the audience feels they have no choice but to resort to illegal streaming to watch the movie. In fact, distributors are aware that illegal streaming links are circulating among viewers, and they are infuriated that prominent critics and numerous influencers have already viewed pirated copies. Their frustration is directed at the audience rather than at the film certification board, which frequently requires films to be edited before release.
The situation has become so dire that distributors of blockbuster movies like Oppenheimer have resorted to self-censoring in order to avoid the extensive modifications that would otherwise be imposed by the Indian censor board. The Indian theatrical version of the movie not only substitutes a scene where Florence Pugh appears naked in the original with one where she wears a computer-generated black dress, but it also includes a jarring cut in a sex scene that is noticeable to observant viewers. One might assume that these edits are exclusive to the cinematic release, but that is not the case. Even when these films become available on OTT platforms, they are presented in the same edited version as seen in theaters.
There’s a real appetite for high-quality art in India, but the restrictive cultural environment that has developed over the years often leaves informed citizens with no choice but to turn to piracy. Producers are hesitant to finance films that might be considered too “radical” because they fear these projects will either face indefinite delays or must be significantly altered, much like how some Hollywood films are already modified with mass markets like China in mind.
If you believe that Monkey Man is an exceptional case, you are deceiving yourself. The documentary film While We Watched, released in 2022, has been showcased in multiple film festivals and had theatrical runs globally, yet it has struggled to secure a streaming platform in India. Until now, it has only been shown through private screenings. Nearly a year and a half after its release, the film has finally found a home on Mubi, a streaming platform, and is set to debut later this month. This documentary has encountered a situation similar to Monkey Man’s, with multiple illegal copies appearing on YouTube last September. In such a climate, a formal ban is not required when a de facto ban already exists due to the prevailing atmosphere of fear. While We Watched is an outlier here because it ultimately managed to find a home. Meanwhile, well-known filmmaker Dibakar Banerjee is seeking to buy out a film that he made for Netflix as the streaming giant shelved the movie after it had finished filming. The auteur was told by the company that it would be too risky to share the film with the world
Ideally, given its name, the Central Board of Film Certification, you might assume that this regulatory board’s role is solely to “certify films”, allowing you, the audience, to decide whether to watch the final piece of art alone or with family based on its classification. However, the reality is quite different. The board not only certifies films but also demands specific modifications, stripping away elements of the original vision. As a result, you are presented with a diluted version of the film, far from the director’s original intent. This practice undermines the artistic integrity of the work and leaves the audience with a compromised experience.
If you, like me, grew up in a remote town in India, you’d be acutely aware of the limited opportunities available to broaden your worldview. For many of us, films, television shows, books, and articles serve as windows into the broader world, offering insights into diverse cultures and global dynamics. These forms of art and media are crucial sources of knowledge. Yet, it’s becoming increasingly clear that even within our constrained circumstances, our access to unaltered information is compromised. We are often promised enriching content, only to be given a watered-down version, depriving us of the full richness of the original work. This not only limits our understanding but also stifles our ability to fully appreciate the diversity and complexity of the world around us.
It’s worth questioning why, despite India not having blasphemy laws like its neighbors, its regulatory body still feels the need to control the dissemination of knowledge. The absence of such laws might suggest a society open to diverse viewpoints, yet the reality is that its citizens rarely encounter anything that could be considered even slightly “radical.” In effect, we are not much different from our neighbors. The perceived immaturity of the larger Indian audience is not a natural trait but an artificial construct shaped by the stringent controls imposed by Indian regulatory bodies. These restrictions stifle intellectual growth and cultural understanding, fostering a homogeneous and limited perspective among the populace.
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Stuff I have been reading + watching:
- The Fall Guy (2024) starring Ryan Gosling and Emily Blunt, Directed by David Leitch [movie]
- Coffeezilla’s investigation into Rabbit R1 and its founder | Part I & II [video]
- Latest findings by Access Now and Citizen Lab on the targeting of Russian exiled journalists, Belarusian opposition via Pegasus spyware [article]
