Indian Cinema: National Sensibility, Global Audience, Many Avatars
Whether it’s Shyam Benegal’s realism or Shah Rukh Khan’s romance, India’s “cinemawalla” gene keeps thriving— spanning languages, styles, and screens from Mumbai to Manhattan. As India’s films evolve into sophisticated regional classics and global mainstream blockbusters, the line between art and entertainment blurs—revealing cinema’s enduring power to define a sensibility.
It is invisible, yet all pervasive. Passed on by parents, grandparents, grandaunts, and even cooks and family drivers, it is the “cinemawalla” gene!
Although I’m not a scientist, I am confident that just about every Indian possesses this cinephile gene, even when they are across oceans from India. Perhaps that alone can explain the puzzling phenomenon of why thousands of Indian films are born every year in big cities and remote parts of India, find their way to multiplexes all over the world, and earn acclaim even in countries as far apart as Japan, Russia, the Middle East, and Afghanistan. The millions of cinema references, dialogues, and memes that all desis possess, the ability of Indian children to break into Bollywood dance at a moment’s notice, and the penchant for high drama that all Indians seem to have—surely these have to do with a cinematic gene in our DNA! Do you have it?
[Right] The author at Parallel Days/Bollywood Nights, a four-week-long celebration of Indian cinema, put together by the Asia Society in New York. Seen here with the curator, Inney Prakash, and Kamal Sen, son of director Mrinal Sen.
[Left] Mrinal Sen
Indian cinema has been around for over a hundred years and has something for everyone—romances, dramas, comedies, mythological tales, terror, violence, and coming-of-age stories. After all, what would you expect from a nation whose biggest strength is its people power?
[Right] Bhuvan Shome (1969) by Mrinal Sen is a seminal film that blends satire and humanism, portraying a stern bureaucrat’s transformation through his encounter with rural India. The movie was selected for the New York cinema showcase. A still from the movie.
India has no shortage of filmmakers—real or those who imagine themselves to be—ready to take on any and every aspect of filmmaking. If there’s a theme or topic, many talented Indians have either musical genes, directorial chops, or financial know-how to take it on boldly. Nowadays, it’s not only the big studios, but also film collectives, partnerships, and ordinary individuals who venture to tell their stories in this age of cell phones, streaming, TikTok, and artificial intelligence. No topic is too mundane or taboo to explore.
Whether you gravitate to masala films or arthouse films, those by Mrinal Sen or Karan Johar, ones with ten musical dance numbers or terse slice-of-life tales—India has plenty of each.
Indian cinema for a diasporic audience
This summer in New York was a unique experience: watching two widely different aspects of Indian cinema—the arthouse as well as the mainstream Bollywood blockbusters— come together on the same weekends. These opposites were paired together, intriguingly showing that the audiences for each of them are not necessarily different.
[Top] Adoor Gopalakrishnan
[Left] Kathapurushan (1995) by Adoor Gopalakrishnan is a multi-generational narrative that examines the intersections of personal ambition, political history, and the changing social fabric of Kerala. The movie was selected for the New York cinema showcase. A still from the movie.
Put together by the Asia Society in New York, Parallel Days/Bollywood Nights, a four-week-long celebration of Indian cinema, featured beloved popular Hindi-language films alongside celebrated titles from the arthouse “parallel cinema” movement, which flourished from the late ’60s to the early/mid ’90s, highlighting both their vast differences and occasional connections. Indeed, there are historical and artistic connections between these highbrow and lowbrow films, and many noted names have worked in both. Needless to say, there is an audience for each.
[Top] Paheli (2005) by Amol Palekar is a lyrical fantasy that tells the story of love, longing, and identity through the tale of a woman whose husband’s spirit is replaced by a ghost. The movie was selected for the New York cinema showcase. A still from the movie.
[Left] Amol Palekar
Over four weeks, I watched eight iconic films that embody these diverse qualities. These must-see movies included four Bollywood biggies such as Raj Kapoor’s Shri 420, starring India’s Showman and Nargis; Yash Chopra’s Kaala Patthar, starring Amitabh Bachchan and Shashi Kapoor; K. Asif’s Mughal-e-Azam, with Prithviraj Kapoor, Dilip Kumar, and Madhubala; and Paheli, featuring Shah Rukh Khan and Rani Mukherjee.
They were paired with four iconic parallel films: Mrinal Sen’s Bhuvan Shome in Hindi, one of the breakout films from 1969 that defined the start of the Parallel Cinema movement; Girish Kasaravalli's Kannada-language Ghatashraddha, which is regarded as one of the best Indian films of all time and demonstrates the strength of the independent regional cinema that flourished in the 1970s; Kathapurushan in Malayalam by Adoor Gopalakrishnan, who has a reputation as one of India's greatest filmmakers; and Mati Manas by Mani Kaul, “who had perfected a subjective, non-linear mode of filmmaking unbound by conventions of genre and form, and deeply rooted in classical Indian cultural traditions.”
Inney Prakash, Curator of Films at New York’s Asia Society, shares insights on the present and future of Indian cinema
These films were selected by the newly appointed Curator of Films at New York’s Asia Society, Inney Prakash. As I discussed the past and future of Indian cinema through the prism of these films, Prakash described these filmmakers as the leading lights of parallel cinema. “Preceded by figures like Bimal Roy and Ritwik Ghatak, these artists sought an escape from formula and new methods of working and expression.” The legendary Satyajit Ray, who, despite being, at first, derisive of their efforts, as their films diverged from his brand of lyrical realism, was later influenced by these parallel cinema filmmakers.
[Top] Girish Kasaravalli
[Left] Gatashraddha (1977) by Girish Kasaravalli is a poignant exploration of tradition, superstition, and the quiet rebellion of a young mind against rigid social norms. The movie was selected for the New York cinema showcase. A still from the movie.
Meanwhile, Bollywood continued its path toward becoming one of the largest film industries in the world. As Prakash pointed out, since 1947, it has become a powerful force in asserting India's pluralistic national identity, and its influence has stretched far into the Asian and former Soviet worlds. Coupled with its familiar tropes and formulas is sometimes a profound sense of artistry and craftsmanship.
[Left] Shree 420 (1955) by Raj Kapoor is a social satire that follows an idealistic man’s moral journey through love, ambition, and corruption in post-independence urban India. The movie was selected for the New York cinema showcase. A still from the movie.
[Top] Raj Kapoor
He adds, “Often framed in antagonistic terms, these two modes—commercial and artistic—of filmmaking each offer their own distinct pleasures and rewards, and the connections between them— figures, influences, source material, themes—can't be ignored."
Would you believe that Amitabh Bachchan, Bollywood’s iconic star, first started out in an unknown parallel film as the nameless narrator? Bachchan did not even receive full name billing for this, being credited merely as “Amitabh” in Mrinal Sen’s 1969 satire, Bhuvan Shome. Bhuvan Shome is said to have pioneered the Indian New Wave. It was one of the earliest films to get funded by the National Film Development Corporation of India.
[Right] Yash Chopra
[Left] Kaala Patthar (1979) by Yash Chopra is a gritty drama inspired by real-life mining tragedies, depicting the struggles, courage, and redemption of workers trapped between greed and survival. The movie was selected for the New York cinema showcase. A still from the movie.
So why are these old films suddenly being shown in New York in 2025 and drawing such crowds? Earlier, one had to rely on scratchy, rundown prints. But now, happily, these films have been given a fresh lease on life. Much-needed restoration work is being done, and these are finally available in new prints for a large and discerning public. Prakash was able to obtain a new print of Raj Kapoor’s Shri 420 from the Library of Congress, as well as Paheli and other titles from the Eastman Museum in Rochester, which had films from the 2000s, all recovered from a shuttered theater in Southern California. Mani Kaul’s Mati Manas was retrieved from the Archive in Berlin.
[Left] Mati Manas (1985) by Mani Kaul is a poetic exploration of India’s spiritual and cultural connection to clay and creativity. The movie was selected for the New York cinema showcase. A still from the movie.
[Top] Mani Kaul
Prakash says that historically, there's been a lack of access as well as proper preservation and restoration, but strong advocates for Indian cinema today who are changing that. He mentions Shivendra Singh Dungarpur, an Indian filmmaker, film archivist, and restorer, who runs the Film Heritage Foundation in Mumbai. He's been restoring Indian films at a very rapid pace, in partnership with Martin Scorsese's World Cinema Foundation. This year, they also premiered the restored Sholay.
Unraveling the puzzle behind Peheli
Paheli is a film with both mainstream and parallel connections, featuring two major Bollywood stars, Shah Rukh Khan and Rani Mukherjee. It is directed by Amol Palekar, who himself was the star of so many parallel films by Shyam Benegal and other noted directors. Shah Rukh has also acted in a few parallel films, including a small role in In Which Annie Gives It Those Ones. Paheli had lyrics by Gulzar, who has long moved deftly between both worlds—Bollywood and the arthouse cinema.
Then some beloved films are neither arthouse nor masala but have been made with an artistic intent by directors like Bimal Roy and Guru Dutt. Certainly, they were making films for mass audiences, yet they infused them with a poetic flair and social commentary.
Bollywood brand of over-the-top flamboyance
I asked Prakash when the trend of over-the-top cinema began. Was it in the ’70s?
“I think it depends on what you mean by over-the-top,” muses Prakash. “For instance, Mughal-e-Azam from 1960 is quite over-the-top. It's a courtly spectacle full of song, dance, and elaborate filmmaking technique. But I think different eras have their own flavor of over-the-top. In the ’70s and ’80s, it was a lot of crazy camera movement and action; and in the ’90s, it was over-the-top romance. So, I think Indian popular film has a proud history of being over-the-top—and that's something to be embraced.”
[Top] K. Asif, a stalwart director of Bollywood blockbuster movie, Mughal-e-Azam.
[Right] Mughal-e-Azam (1960) by K. Asif is a grand historical epic that portrays the doomed love between Prince Salim and courtesan Anarkali against the splendor and authority of the Mughal Empire. The movie was selected for the New York cinema showcase. A still from the movie.
I mentioned that I recalled many B-grade films too, like Hatim Tai, Hatim Tai ki Beti, and Nagin. In fact, snake charmer films were a popular theme at the time. Even though they were often looked down upon, they were very popular with audiences. “Yes, and I think part of the goal of this series is to correct the condescension towards popular Indian cinema, where there's an assumption, I think, among Western tastemakers that Bollywood films are artistically meritless. Sure, a lot of them are, just like a lot of Hollywood films are. But I think you [need to] go back and you would find that there are so many films worth celebrating.”
So did he think these arthouse and Bollywood films—different as they are—run on parallel tracks? “Yes, it’s not anti, it's parallel, because these films weren’t necessarily reacting against Indian popular cinema. They are doing their own thing differently. I think that's the meaning of parallel.”
Bedatri Datta Choudhury, a film critic and a programmer, shared the backstory of Paheli and proved how she too had the “cinemawalla” gene: “I’m so happy to be here and to be talking about this film—not just because this is what I do for a living, but also because when I was five, I ran away from home to marry Shah Rukh Khan. It did happen.”
Choudhury pointed out how Shah Rukh Khan, flush from the success of films like Swades and Veer Zaara in 2004, took on Paheli, which was not a big-budget film. Rani Mukherjee too had big successes like Black and Babli Aur Bunty that year. They both chose to do a smaller film like Paheli, which was only a moderate success. Shah Rukh even chose to produce it. She says, “There's so much to say about this film because it brings together so many disparate worlds of Hindi cinema. Amol Palekar, who directed it, is the poster boy of what emerged as the ‘middle cinema’ in the ’70s and ’80s. They were films made for the middle class with expertly veiled social commentary and excellent music.”
She adds, “And I would say that Paheli was kind of the middle cinema of the 2000s, if such a thing existed, amid a very quickly diminishing middle class. The film is narrated by parallel cinema stalwarts Nasiruddin Shah and Ratna Pathak Shah.”
Regional in content, global in reach
Interestingly, several films in regional languages like Kannada and Malayalam made this series pan-Indian. Says Prakash, “Another factor which often defines parallel films is a greater emphasis on regionalism, and that's represented in this series by Kathapurushan in Malayalam by Adoor Gopalakrishnan. There is a very rich history of Malayalam language films, and regional cinema has become integral to how scholars define parallel cinema today.”
Regionalism, however, is not synonymous with arthouse cinema by any means. Still, a lot of parallel films are in regional languages and explore regional themes, subjects, and locations. Films in regional languages like Tamil and Kannada from the south, and Bengali from the east, have become globally popular due to the magic of subtitles, which opens cinematic doors across languages. What can be more 2025 than watching the latest South Indian hit in your chosen language on Netflix or Bravo in the comfort of your home in Chennai or California?
Global audience without global recognition
This brings us to another question: with its rich history, why is Indian cinema still struggling to gain recognition on the international scene, unlike Iranian or Korean cinema, which have achieved significant global recognition? “There have been so many great Indian films in the past decades that certainly should have been recognized by the Academy,” says Prakash. “But I wouldn't discount the future, or even near-future, possibility of that changing.”
“So, I'm optimistic that a lot of people are about to discover and engage with Indian cinema for the first time,” he says. “You can never discount racism, but I’m optimistic that it's changing because of many young and emerging contemporary Indian filmmakers.” He points out that they all have great teams and are savvy about marketing and getting their works seen in the West. “They know how to navigate cultural pipelines that result in visibility in Western frameworks. Of course, as the Indian diaspora becomes larger and more visible, naturally, more films are going to be made by them.
Bimal Roy (Right) and Ritwik Ghatak, two giants of the parallel cinema movement in India.
“One important thing that helped parallel cinema in the past was the government funding that they were able to get in the old days,” says Prakash. “It means a lot when the government is committed to backing artistically ambitious films without any censorship—which seems less likely than ever.”
Exciting times ahead for Indian cinema
These seem like exciting times for Indian cinema and for all the hidden Indian cinemawallas with the itch for watching and making films. Prakash says that he is seeing both cinephiles—people who are really seeking out global cinema, for which there's a lot of enthusiasm in New York City; but also, South Asians, who are excited to see Indian cinema on the big screen in a way that hasn't really been possible here in recent years.
“It excites me to see people with different interests, levels of knowledge, and expertise coming together out of enjoyment of the film. The audience has been really fun to sit with. Particularly for Sri 420 and Mughal-E-Azam, they were so reactive! It was as if these films had been made yesterday from the way we heard the audience engaging with them!”
Prakash loves seeing film lovers pouring into the state-of-the-art 250-seat theater at the museum. “I feel great being here. It's a beautiful theater, and we’ve got our analog film projectors up and running. I am a huge believer in celluloid, and I am really grateful for the opportunity to champion film as an art form. When you show it in a museum, you are asserting that film belongs here. It’s absurd that 125 years after the creation of film, we still have to show it in a museum to say that the film belongs here, to have to prove its value.”
Lavina Melwani is a New York-based writer for several publications and blogs at Lassi with Lavina.
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