It is nearly two decades when a friend in the film industry, a second-generation big wig of Pakistani cinema, had declared that the ‘last reel’ of the Pakistan’s film industry was running. This writer had dismissed the comment as cynical, unrealistic and pessimistic prediction because the industry was producing about 80 films a year, including quite a few decent and entertaining fares.
Deterioration was admittedly in view but every industry has its share of unimaginative and tasteless productions. The prophecy is now coming very close to proving true. Yearly productions have come down to under 40 and the industry is in total disarray and seems headed towards extinction. It is a case of self-destruction, too.
A total of about 30 movies were released last year; the script for the current year is sorrier with six new releases, all of them fit for the trash basket, notwithstanding the relatively rewarding performance of some movies at the ticket window. Even worst, very little is flowing in the mainstream pipeline.
“An outstanding filmmaker at the start of her career, Sangeeta’s recent work is a monotonous visual monologue of gunfire, blood spilling, dead bodies and crudely bared females straining limbs to perform a mutated version of dance.”
Practically all films of the last year were wanting in quality on every count: they were wayward footage filling screening time with songs set in hot beats to emphasize double-edged versifying with deliberate vulgar gesture, dances comprising raw physical gyrations of crude, gutter-oriented sexuality and fights of a variety to make for violent, blood spilling sequences in the name of climax.
Film studios currently present a deserted scene while they were busy round the clock not too far back in time. Some studios have rented out facilities for TV productions. Leading professionals from almost all fields can be counted on the fingers of one hand.
The few people who can be regarded as capable of producing films not terribly below the acceptable quality line are calling it a day and joining the thriving market for plays, drama serials and tele-films for private channels.
Javaid Fazil, one of the leading and more accomplished directors, saw the inroads of decline at an early stage and shifted to productions for the mini screen some years back. Recently, Hasan Askari, another important and distinguished film-maker also reached the same conclusion and signed with a private TV channel as director for plays and tele-films. This leaves the industry with just two professionally competent directors, Sangeeta and Syed Noor. The former has kept the industry’s survival flag fluttering with five to six movies a year virtually single-handedly, but the flag has been drenched in mud in the process. She has helped Pakistani cinema remain barely above sinking level but mostly with questionable strokes.
An outstanding filmmaker at the start of her career, Sangeeta’s recent work is a monotonous visual monologue of gunfire, blood spilling, dead bodies and crudely bared females straining limbs to perform the local big screen version of dancing.
Syed Noor has authentic credentials but he has slowed down in recent times and does not contribute more than one film a year. That is not sufficient to sustain the industry. The quality of his films has improved but only content-wise, as was evident from his last work, Hum Aik Hain. Technically, they remain below minimum standards. Moreover, the industry also needs quantity to remain in business. Syed Noor is not contributing on that count, though one can understand his reasons. It is difficult to hit correct targets with rapid fire. This is truer of actors-turned-directors Javaid Shakih and Ajab Gul.
Just one movie survived at the box office last year and that wasn’t a wholly local film. Salakhain by director Shahzad Rafique (no remake of the Hasan Askari’s movie of the same title) has done quite well at the window. In the process, it proved many points. While it featured local artists and many of the technicians who worked for the production are also Pakistanis, the film extensively relied on professional support from across the border and hence does not represent the talent — or the lack of it — that is associated with the local film industry.
Salakhain’s success underlined the people’s hunger for entertainment on the big screen and authenticated Javaid Shaikh’s (Yeh Dil Aap Ka Hua) reliance on Bollywood for quality. This may be useful for the short run, but if the industry is to be competitive and become quality oriented, it must upgrade its facilities. It must, in short, develop self-reliance.
As that is not being done, people are moving away from theatres because the screen does not satisfy them in terms of content, production quality, performances of artists, music and other ingredients that attract patrons to cinema halls where entertainment is more expensive than what is dished out in routine by television channels and cable networks.
In the past few years, only two Pakistani movies, Chooriyan and Yeh Dil Aap Ka Hua were screened in Dubai. This was possible because of the tremendous success of Chooriyan in Pakistan and personal contacts and business acumen of actor Javaid Shaikh, who had directed YDAKH. But the first movie was shown in a B-class theatre of Dubai because of low-quality production values while YDAKH was accorded better reception due to its production quality. However, like Salakhain, Javaid’s venture had also leaned heavily on Bollywood for making the movie acceptable for the international market and ensuring decent release and reception for the movie not only in Dubai but in other cities as well. This trend is catching on and many film-makers and directors are running to Bombay for technical facilities, particularly for music recordings.
The conclusion to be drawn is obvious: the film industry needs to upgrade technical resources in terms of recording equipment, cameras, processing, editing and other inputs besides improving content, standards of performance of artists.
The industry must realize that the Bollywood bubble would ultimately burst, pushing the industry in deeper trouble than its present dismal state. The exercise is adding to production budgets whereas the size of the market is small and its capacity for returns is limited. It would snuff out whatever little hope of the industry’s revival is already there.
Interestingly, Laaj by writer-director Rauf Khalid was a film that Pakistan can be proud of. It did not do well on the box-office because the environment for such work has been disturbed. But damage can be repaired by more such films while the current work comprising purely local productions or those made with Bombay’s support are likely to turn out a receipt for total disaster.
It is nearly two decades when a friend in the film industry, a second-generation big wig of Pakistani cinema, had declared that the ‘last reel’ of the Pakistan’s film industry was running. This writer had dismissed the comment as cynical, unrealistic and pessimistic prediction because the industry was producing about 80 films a year, including quite a few decent and entertaining fares.
