.: Latest News :. .:News in Pictures:.




Horoscope Recipes

Weekly SectionMarker



Pakistan's Internet Magazine
Herald




Weather

Dawn Classified

Cowasjee Ayaz Mazdak Review Dawn Magazine Young World Images

DAWN - the Internet Edition Next Story



The Images


July 27, 2003


Trouble in Lollywood



By Zafar Samdani


Pakistan’s film industry has not enjoyed good health for some years, but the crisis that confronts it now is unprecedented. The industry seems to have lost its direction, momentum and resources: only 14 films — all of them low quality, box office failures — were released during the first six months of the current year.

This is not the first time the film industry has suffered a slowdown. There was total suspension of production activities under the Zia-ul-Haq regime due to the government’s decision to register producers and its refusal to grant registration to any film-maker for a period of nine months in 1980. However, the industry quickly recovered from that setback once the registration process got underway.

No external factor, now, is involved in the industry’s current state of despair. Investment, never really high for film-making in the past three decades, has been excessively shy. As a result, film production has dropped considerably and theatres are now screening movies that were rejected on the first run or are forced to explore other avenues, like converting their facilities to accommodate stage plays or other activities. This is happening in Lahore, the centre of the industry, as well as in some major urban markets like Multan and Faisalabad. Imported films of dubious, regrettable quality and taste have also replaced local movies in a number of cinema halls.

A total of 45 movies were produced in 2002, 27 of them in the first half of the year. The count for the first six months of 2003 is a dismal 14. That figure is bad enough. Even worse is the fact that not a single one of these productions was well received at the window. This has unnerved exhibitors who are reducing the outlets for films.

 


There is distrust in the industry of newcomers, particularly of directors, and its capacity to absorb fresh talent has been impaired by an in-house approach and suspicion of people representing a different cultural and intellectual background
 



Not just the quantity, but the quality of films has also dipped in the process. For some years, there has been little evidence to suggest that the industry possessed any creative or imaginative dimension. Films of the current year provide proof of total sterility in this area. And the reception of films is generally linked with pre-release hype surrounding a production. Studio reports tell the same story: titles of new films tell unchanged tales. Fresh releases consequently leave film-goers cold and the very first show often seals the fate of the movie.

It wasn’t that bad last year when at least ten movies clicked commercially, one or two even managing to become money-spinners. They were not quite blockbusters, but the films did enough business to provide their makers reasonable returns. Director Sangeeta came up with a couple of winners and some of film-maker Pervez Rana’s work was not rejected instantly.

The industry also found a new crowd-puller in the return of veteran actor Yusuf Khan who brought professional excellence and dignified performance back to the big screen. The experienced actor ensured that characters written for him were clearly defined — to the extent that is possible considering the material being penned by the present crop of scribes — and delivered smooth performances. However, he has become dormant because the writers have nothing challenging to offer and tend to present him as an aging Sultan Rahi. There is already a young Rahi in Shan and the screen can ill afford another.

The scuttled number of productions has been instrumental in restricting the industry’s talent base in terms of writers, performers and professionals in other areas of film work. Unsure of their product, film-makers try to play it safe by casting many established artists in their movies, but that makes the films look like a dust-laden menagerie from last year. Not one worthy new male or female artist has been introduced during the last three years. The credits for one film are the spitting image of most other movies on the circuit.

There is distrust in the industry of newcomers, particularly of directors and its capacity to absorb fresh talent has been impaired by an in-house approach and suspicion of people representing a different cultural and intellectual background, whose lifestyles may make members of the industry uneasy.

As a result of the sharp reduction in the number of new films and slipshod work in virtually all areas of film-making, most exhibitors have been left high and dry across the country. The easy and inexpensive availability of entertainment from endless sources makes even the filling of time by exhibitors a daunting proposition; doing that profitably is inconceivable at the present point in time.

Cinema halls have been consequently falling prey to economic pressures. Those who can find a way of demolishing structures and replacing them with financially more rewarding concerns have exercised this option. Shifting to staging plays, a highly popular, largely lowbrow and ribald form of entertainment, is the next best move.

According to the All Pakistan Film Producer’s Association, there was a total of 594 cinema halls in the country in 1997. The current number stands at about 350. Halls need to screen at least two movies every week. The industry has not been able to meet their minimum requirements. Prospects for the industry may become terribly bleak if the current state persists.

That would be unfortunate, not from the viewpoint of the industry only. Whatever the technical and professional worth of most movies, one thing must be conceded: films are closer to life in the raw than any other medium. The expression is admittedly crude, but they offer insight into the experiences of the common people of Pakistan, bringing out the conditions of misery that persist over their lives and highlight the corruption of the system. The Sultan Rahi syndrome that has survived the death of the populist actor provides hope to the people.

Better attention to details and an effort at improving quality can still turn the tide for the industry. But the question is: who is willing to pick up the gauntlet? No one, it seems, is qualified or willing to make this challenging move.



Click to learn more...
Please Visit our Sponsor (Ads open in separate window)

Top of Page Next Story

Seprater
Contributions
Privacy Policy
© DAWN Group of Newspapers, 2005