The magic of cinema simply refuses to fade. Long after a movie has lived its theatrical life, it can defy the expiry date and sneak into the collective imagination of its admirers. As a matter of fact, the silver screen may be a film’s ultimate haven but it is certainly not the only one. Posters too play a pivotal role in giving films a distinct status. And keeping their relevance and charm in mind, cine lovers could not have asked for a better visual treat than a leisurely stroll through “Maya Mahal — an Enchanted Look at Hindi Cinema through the Priya Paul Collection”, at the Park Hotel in Kolkata.
“I had been collecting oleographs from calendar art and advertising materials for some years, when a dealer came by with hundreds of lobby cards and posters. These were fragile paper objects and I realised that they would soon be destroyed. It seemed like an urgent project to me and I started collecting as many such artifacts as I could. If the collection seems a little eccentric, it is because my primary impulse was to salvage maximum number of objects. This collection embodies a valuable slice of Indian cinema’s forgotten histories and I hope its value is appreciated by film historians and film enthusiasts,” says Priya Paul, who has organised the exhibition as a part of the Apeejay Kolkata Literary Festival.
Curator Debashree Mukherjee looks enamoured with this rare line up of posters that offer a glimpse about an era that has gone by but hardly forgotten. “Priya Paul’s collection of memorabilia represents an eccentric mix of films. I was initially taken aback by the collection, not because it is too large in scale, but because it stands in unfamiliar history of Hindi cinema. Many of these films have not been considered socially or artistically significant by elite standards. Most of them firmly belong to the B -circuit, made on a low budget, with scant attention to subtlety, and much emphasis on thrills. B grade films have traditionally circulated in mofussil towns, rural centres and the working class neighbourhood of big cities. They are kind of underground form, dogged by the state censorship laws and shunned by the affluent class. Instead of judging them from the prism of good and bad, the effort is to acknowledge this kind of creative imagination that co existed with the mainstream and more acceptable form of cinema.”
So you have a lesser known Adam Khor released in 1955, a very raunchy looking Aadam Shastra that traces the evolution of man, sharing space with cult classics like Pyaasa and Deewar, all showcasing the different mindset of filmmaking.
Debashree has an interesting take on the choice of the title. She says, “A lot of brain-storming went over the possible name, finally the search ended with the movie Maya Mahal’s film poster and we gladly settled for that. The reason for dividing the collection into three segments — fantasy, action and dance — is to distill the three main attractions of Hindi cinema. The objects at the exhibition also unfold the several layers of history, the photographers, poster painters, graphic designers and printers and many such unrecognised talents may find the appreciation that has eluded them all their lives.
Many of these items were found in very fragile conditions, sometimes crumbling even on a slight touch. “We have intentionally presented these works, complete with their original stains, tears and scratches. The physical marks can be taken as a reminder of the marginal lives of these artifacts and also reflects the collector’s deep sense of care in preserving this unconventional piece of history,” feels the curator.
Fantasy and films have always been intertwined. For early filmmakers it was interpreted as magic and moving images. Special effects had become very popular during the silent era and the domination of gods, monsters and djinns continued right through the 1950s. These fantasies never completely vanished from the cinema space and they crop up periodically as evident in the 1990 film Hatim Tai. “While films based on Hindu mythology had its dedicated followers, Persian tales and stories from the Arabian Nights were also recreated on celluloid. The love saga of Laila-Majnooh originated here. Another striking image is the composite photograph of a giant Hiralal trying to crush the Taj Mahal Hotel with his foot in Doctor Z. Ironically, the viewer can draw a parallel to this image with the tragic event of the recent past,” comes her observation.
The “action” sequence inevitably leads to the Hunterwali stunts films, starring the inimitable Fearless Nadia and then it travels through decades to discover the iron lady of Hindi cinema as a bandook wali, capturing the surge of dacoit stories of the 1970s and 1980s. Somewhere during these years, Bollywood rediscovered the power of action and it was seen as the biggest selling point of a movie. Guns too eventually became a regular feature in film posters.
Dance remains an integral form our masala movies, and the connection goes back to the birth of Indian cinema. It is a perfect escape route from all the drama and tension. Debashree shares the reason for including the theme in the exhibition. “Call it the perfect stress buster! You will find a courtesan, nautch girl, fairy, cabaret dancer, or the seductress showcasing the oomph factor, the hero and heroine, taking a flight of fancy and landing into foreign locales to shake a leg, just for a few minutes. In examples such as Alif Laila, Aan and Shatranj, we see symmetrically arranged bodies, epic sets, chorus lines and back up dancers, the pattern is still visible in popular cinema.”