Cinema, Ideology, and the Art of Subtle Manipulation
There’s something deeply unsettling about how films can shape our perceptions without us even realizing it. Take the recent controversy surrounding Dhurandhar, Aditya Dhar’s blockbuster hit, which has sparked a heated debate in intellectual circles. Personally, I think this isn’t just about a movie—it’s about the power of cinema to subtly reinforce ideologies, often under the guise of entertainment. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Ira Bhaskar, Swara Bhasker’s mother and a renowned film scholar, dissects the film’s portrayal of Muslims in Pakistan. Her critique isn’t just a casual observation; it’s a sharp analysis of how art and politics intertwine in contemporary Indian cinema.
The Ideological Underbelly of Blockbusters
One thing that immediately stands out is Bhaskar’s assertion that Dhurandhar is a product of a filmmaker ideologically aligned with Hindutva. In my opinion, this isn’t just about Dhar’s personal beliefs—it’s about how those beliefs manifest in his storytelling. What many people don’t realize is that cinema is never neutral. Every frame, every dialogue, every character is a choice, and those choices often serve a larger narrative. Bhaskar’s point about the film’s commercial success is crucial. If you take a step back and think about it, a movie earning crores at the box office isn’t just a financial triumph—it’s a cultural one. It means millions of people are consuming and, perhaps unconsciously, internalizing its message.
The Portrayal of Muslims: Stereotypes or Reality?
Bhaskar’s critique of the film’s portrayal of Muslims is where things get particularly interesting. She argues that the narrative reinforces the stereotype of Muslims as inherently violent, with Pakistan depicted as a nation of terrorists and gangsters. From my perspective, this isn’t just about representation—it’s about the implications of such portrayals. When films like Dhurandhar claim to be based on true events, they often cherry-pick facts to fit a predetermined narrative. This raises a deeper question: Are we watching history, or are we watching a carefully curated version of it? What this really suggests is that cinema can be a tool for manipulation, shaping public opinion under the veneer of storytelling.
Form vs. Content: Can They Ever Be Separated?
A detail that I find especially interesting is Bhaskar’s argument that form and content in cinema are inseparable. She questions whether a film’s technical brilliance can excuse its problematic messaging. Personally, I think this is a critical point. We often praise films for their cinematography, direction, or acting while ignoring the ideas they propagate. But if a movie is visually stunning yet ideologically flawed, does its technical craft redeem it? In my opinion, it doesn’t. Art and ideology are intertwined, and to separate them is to miss the point entirely.
The Broader Implications: Cinema as a Mirror of Society
What makes the discussion around Dhurandhar so significant is its broader implications for Indian cinema. The panel hosted by Harsh Mander on Karwan e Mohabbat didn’t just critique one film—it questioned the entire landscape of contemporary Indian filmmaking. Are films centered on humanism, secularism, and social equality still relevant? Or has the industry shifted towards narratives that align with dominant political ideologies? This isn’t just about Dhurandhar; it’s about the direction of cinema in a country as diverse as India.
Looking Ahead: The Sequel and Beyond
With Dhurandhar: The Revenge set to release soon, the debate is far from over. Personally, I’m curious to see if the sequel will address any of the criticisms leveled against its predecessor. But what’s more intriguing is the cultural moment we’re in. Films like Dhurandhar are not just entertainment—they’re reflections of our collective consciousness. If you take a step back and think about it, the success of such films tells us as much about the audience as it does about the filmmakers.
Final Thoughts: Cinema as a Double-Edged Sword
In the end, cinema is a double-edged sword. It has the power to inspire, to challenge, and to unite—but it can also reinforce stereotypes, manipulate narratives, and divide. As viewers, we need to be critically aware of what we’re consuming. Ira Bhaskar’s critique of Dhurandhar isn’t just about one film—it’s a call to question the stories we’re being told and the ideologies they serve. Personally, I think that’s a conversation worth having, not just in intellectual circles, but in every cinema hall across the country.
