Strange but true. Frequently, front-page film controversies serve as a tremendous boost at the ticket counters. When Rang De Basanti was under fire — for showing MiG fighter-aircraft and the depiction of a banned horse race — it hit the headlines.

And a perceptive filmmaker had remarked, “Imagine! The movie’s plastered all over the national dailies, television and the Internet. This kind of free publicity can’t be bought for love or money.”
The remark was in keeping with the traditional belief that there’s nothing like bad publicity. More the buzz the cheerier — especially at a time when the first weekend box office collections determine the success or flop ratio of every Bollywood product. In recent years, partisan political controversies surrounding Fanna and My Name Is Khan also sparked top-of-the-mind news, whetting the public curiosity.
Earlier, a cheesy film like Girlfiend — salivating over a same-gender relationship — was rescued from oblivion following the vandalism of a cinema hall where it was being screened in Mumbai. Once the self-appointed culture police wing of a political party raised objections, its cash collections picked up majorly.
But there’s a downside, too. The release of Fanna, following statements on the Narmada Dam issue by its lead actor Aamir Khan, was blacklisted by the Gujarat cinema exhibitors. And Jodhaa Akbar was blocked in Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh, Haryana and Uttarakhand after vociferous protests about its historical inaccuracies and the portrayal of the Rajput community. The films’ revenues were direly affected.
Or take the case of Anurag Kashyap’s Black Friday, which dealt with the communal riots of Mumbai during 1992-’93. It was inordinately delayed, till the stay order against it was cleared. Before that, Shekhar Kapur had been stonewalled with a plethora of objections against Bandit Queen. Indeed, the globally feted biopic of Phoolan Devi was cleared in India for a general release after months of brouhaha.
Much to his consternation, the late artist-filmmaker M.F. Husain was reviled for writing the lyric Noorun-ala-noor for his feature film Meenaxi: A Tale Of Three Cities. A week after the objections, he had refused to comment, ending with a cryptic all-is-well.
Now this year has kicked off with two controversies, both on religious grounds. Kamal Haasan’s thriller Vishwaroopam was alleged to have portrayed Muslims in a derogatory light since its storyline revolves around a RAW agent combating a terrorist group. Practically every Hollywood blockbuster deals with a similar theme nowadays, extolling the bravado of the CIA. At home, too, films like Kurban, New York and Shoot at Sight have raised questions about the manner in which they have handled the scourge of terrorism.
So why has Vishwaroopam been singled out for extreme treatment? Kamal Haasan may be all over the newspapers. But in this case the volume of publicity the actor-producer-director may have garnered hardly counts with its ongoing blockade in Tamil Nadu. Whatever the quality of his thriller may be, according to the trade experts, the financial loss he has faced is irreparable. Indeed instead of approaching the controversy with a certain amount of patience, Haasan overreacted, stating that he is so displeased that he is contemplating leaving his home in Chennai or India itself. This from a stalwart film personality who has been bestowed with the honorific of Padmashri years ago!
Next Tamil Nadu’s chief minister J. Jayalalithaa vehemently denies any personal vendetta in the Vishwaroopam imbroglio and offers a helping hand to facilitate a “resolution”, suggesting that the objecting Muslim voices and the actor-producer-director could work out an amicable agreement. The off-screen plot keeps taking startling twists and turns.
The second controversy of the year has been raised by Bejoy Nambiar’s David. According to a petitioner, its song Ya Hussain “hurts the sentiments of Muslims”.
With so many contentious cases, the role of the Censor Board of Film Certification has to be redefined. Since it is believed to be the ultimate authority on every film’s clearance, it has to be solely responsible for its go-aheads as well as its deletions. Yet the Tamil Nadu government empowered collectors in the state to restrain Vishwaroopam, less than 48 hours before its release. Consequently, the state’s police machinery swung into action and issued prohibitory orders against the film, ostensibly to “ensure peace and public tranquillity”. The Censor Board, a statutory body under the ministry of information and broadcasting, was once again shown to be redundant.
Surely, the last-minute blockades could be quite easily avoided. To cite a bygone case, Manmohan Desai had referred his film Coolie to members of the Muslim community — to scholars as well as clerics. After the screening, a month before the film’s release, apprehensions expressed by the experts were ironed out by the filmmaker. A discussion never hurts anyone.
Moreover, the research scholars and historians must be of impeccable credentials. In the case of Jodhaa Akbar, the specialists mentioned in the credit titles were few and, at least one of them was no expert on Mughal history. Surely such loopholes could be avoided by the filmmakers. Water-tight evidence of keeping in sync with censorship codes have to be ensured. Or else face-offs, complaints and petitions will continue to be endemic.
Lyrics have become easy targets. The number of songs that have raised hackles are increasing. Case in point: the title song of Aaja Nachle. Any word can be offensive to anyone anywhere. Truly, while holding no brief for either the filmmakers or the dissenters, one can merely hope that a modicum of method is reached in the matinee madness.

The writer is a journalist, film critic and film director