A taste for Indian films Negotiating cultural boundaries in post-Stalinist Soviet society
Sudha Rajagopalan
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A taste for Indian films Negotiating cultural boundaries in post-Stalinist Soviet society
Sudha Rajagopalan
Submitted to the faculty of the University Graduate School in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Department of History Indiana University May 2005
UMI Number: 3162980
Copyright 2005 by Rajagopalan, Sudha
All rights reserved.
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UMI UMI Microform 3162980 Copyright 2005 by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code.
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Accepted by the Graduate Faculty, Indiana University, in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.
Alexander Rabinowitch, Ph.D
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Ben Eklof
Doctoral Committee
Maria Bucur
Dodona Kiziria
Date of Oral Examination: October
21, 2004
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© (2005) Sudha Rajagopalan ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Acknowledgements I am grateful to all project participants in Moscow who were generous with their time and shared their views on Indian films with me. The staff at the Museum of Cinema in Moscow was enormously helpful in locating individuals and placing strategic phone calls to help me circumvent unforeseen obstacles during fieldwork. Elena and Leonid of Praxis International made the logistical planning involved in doing fieldwork in Russia eminently easy. In addition to providing me a home in Moscow, my friends Elena and Volodia assisted in distributing questionnaires in various locations and in fmding project participants. My friend Dasha was kind enough to transcribe and type the interviews I recorded on tape during fieldwork. I am grateful to all of them for their hospitality and unstinting help. This project has benefited greatly from the observations and sensitive insights of
my adviser Prof. Alexander Rabinowitch, Prof. Ben Eklof and Prof. Maria Bucur in the Department of History, and Prof. Dodona Kiziria in the Department of Slavic Languages and Literatures at Indiana University. They read numerous drafts patiently and offered constructive commentary on each occasion. Finally, I could not thank my family enough for their implicit faith in my ideas and unflagging support during the research and writing process.
v Preface The idea for this project has had a long gestation period and has stemmed primarily from personal experiences and 'popular knowledge' in India about the Soviet Union. Twelve years ago in a Moscow metro, a group of musicians approached me and asked if I would sing for them. Their request was a song from a classic Indian popular film of the fifties. I was happy to oblige, and the result was an impromptu song session in the Moscow underground. The incident was unexpected but the request lor an Indian film song came as no surprise to me. Growing up in India, one of the first things I had ever learned about the Soviet Union was that moviegoers there admired Indian popular films or melodramas. Indians have always found the Soviet interest in Indian melodramas most curious. At home in India, we watch Indian melodramas with enthusiasm, great indulgence and some self-mockery, but the passion of Soviet audiences for these films never ceased to puzzle us. The success of the Indian melodrama with its seeming 'flights of fantasy' seemed to be a paradox in a society where arts were meant to be edifYing, and where entertainment from abroad was tightly controlled. My parents' generation remembers movie fans in Moscow turning up in thousands on the streets of Moscow and Leningrad to greet Indian stars in the fifties and sixties, and I recall the great delight with which I heard that Raisa Gorbacheva's favourite actor was an Indian film star. Film magazines in India would report that Soviet fans camped outside the hotels where Indian film stars stayed in Moscow and other cities. Sight seeing tours planned for visiting Soviet delegations in India would even include stops outside film stars' homes and film studios in Bombay.
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My interest in this dimension of Soviet popular culture has been consistently stimulated by personal experiences in that country. These experiences were a product of the friendly ties and bilateral cultural relationship, which spawned events, festivals, and language centers in India. During my stint at the Russian language center in Bombay and on my fITst visit to Moscow twelve years ago, many people from the region demonstrated a deep interest in India, which they attributed to their familiarity with Indian popular films. The identification of many with films from my country and their own view that our cultures were 'related' was a source of endless fascination and the subject of much discussion with people in the region for the next several years. The outpouring of admiration for Indian films and their stars seemed undiminished even in the late-nineties, as demonstrated by new magazines for Indian melodrama fans in Russia. Indian fllms were now available on video in Russia and other CIS states soon after their theatre release in India. I met with the secretary of a new film club 'New India' in Moscow, and browsed with delight through the hundreds of application forms the club had received between 1993 and 1998. 1 During early field trips, I also received two enthusiastic letters from Indian film fans in Russia - one from Dagestan and the other from Volgograd province. Natal'ia Chernikova in Verkhniaia Dobrinka in Volgograd province has always watched Indian films appreciatively and has a large collection of videos at home, which she offered to put at my disposal for my research. Zuhra Ramasanova in Makhachkala likes to dress up like her favourite Indian film star and dreams of going to India one day; in the meantime, she would like us to be friends, given our shared interest in Indian melodramas.
I I cite some of these application foons in the conclusion to this dissertation.
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I was encouraged by the spontaneity with which people I met talked to me about the subject. Often, the conversation needed no preamble; in fact, people assumed because I am Indian that I would want to talk to them about melodramas from Bombay. I grew up on a diet of Indian popular films, loved and knew them well, and was happy to discuss film gossip with the people I met. Between their enthusiasm and my partiality for these films, it seemed research into audience reception of Indian popular cinema in the Soviet Union would be a logical consequence of these interactions.
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Sudha Rajagopalan
A TASTE FOR INDIAN FILMS NEGOTIATING CULTURAL BOUNDARIES IN POST-STALINIST SOVIET SOCIETY
Between 1954 and 1991, Soviet moviegoers had access to and relished popular
films imported from India. These melodramas, where social commentary was embedded in a predominantly romantic story-line, were at variance with prevalent Soviet canonical assumptions about cinema and its purpose.
This dissertation examines the success of Indian melodramas among moviegoers in post-Stalinist society. It also explores the processes of import, cultural mediation and audience engagement that emerged around this cultural product. Using interviews, surveys, policy documents, press / academic articles and audience letters, this dissertation explores why moviegoers appreciated Indian melodramas and whether this audience enjoyed a legitimate and public presence in the post-Stalinist era.
Interviews and questionnaire fIDdings reveal that Soviet spectators delighted in Indian popular cinema primarily because it was otherworldly and offered 'escape' from their mundane realities and/or from other cinemas, even while: it demonstrated cultural prescriptions and historical features akin to those of Soviet society. Research indicates that policy makers imported these films to ensure the reciprocal export of Soviet films to India for geo-political interests and to satisfy domestic demand for entertainment. Furthermore, despite the body of critical opinion that often challenged the audiences' penchant for such light 'escapist' fare, fans' letters that
IX
defended their interest in Indian films and criticized domestic productions were accommodated and entertained in public forums.
State patronage of Indian melodranlas and the public space that the melodranla audience was allowed demonstrate that audience enjoyment of these 'otherworldly' films and their indulgence in 'escape' occurred within the parameters of officially prescribed culture. Furthermore, audience reception of Indian melodramas exhibits the influence ofa global actor other than America in shaping cultural preferences in post-Stalinist Soviet society.
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CONTENTS
Introduction
1
Chapter 1. VIEWERS REMEMBER INDIAN MELODRAMAS
41
Chapter 2. STATE PATRONAGE OF INDIAN MELODRAMAS, 1949-1991 Meeting official and audience needs
123
Chapter 3. CRITICAL RECEPTION OF INDIAN CINEMA, 1949-1991 At odds with melodrama admirers
176
Chapter 4. THE PUBLIC PERSONAE OF INDIAN MELODRAMA ADMIRERS 'The yogi in the ticket-queue'
235
Conclusion
299
Appendices
312
Bibliography
333
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Appendices Table
Appendix I: Viewership statistics
312
Appendix n: Indian popular films and actors
314
Appendix III: Indian 'progressive' / art filmmakers and their films
322
Appendix IV: Questionnaire
326
Appendix V: Profile of questionnaire respondents and interviewees
329
1 Introduction
In the autumn of 1954, a year after Stalin's death, Soviet audiences had their first glimpse of Indian popular films in domestic theaters. The occasion was an Indian film festival in Moscow and other cities, and its success provided impetus for the regular importation of films from India until 1991. During these years, Indian popular films or melodramas' drew large audiences in Soviet theaters, often surpassing both domestic and other foreign cinema in viewer turnout. 2 Admirers wrote lively letters to Sovetsldi Ekran, the popular Soviet fIlmjoumal, explaining their preference for Indian melodramas:
It is simply offensive. My brother returned from his work shift at the factory. Weary and wishing to relax, he turned on the television, only to see his second work shift begin - a fJ.lm about a factory. It makes me want to smash the
television set to smithereens. Seriously, one is able to see beauty only in Indian fJ.lms. Life is grey, boring, murky, but in Indian films one can see so much beauty, love, music! Indian films are incomparable among the cinemas! (unsigned).3 Describing the experience of an Indian film show in a letter to the same journal, some Indian film enthusiasts had this to say:
While watching an Indian ft1m, the heart fIUs withjoy. Everything is beautiful and so colorful, that you have no desire to leave the theater, especially when reminded of what awaits you outside it. 4 The Indian popular films purchased for Soviet theaters combined several genre characteristics, emphasized emotion and spectacle, and portrayed issues of societal 1 In the Soviet Union, Indian popular films were commonly referred to as Indian melodramas. 2 See Appendix I, Tables 1.1 and 1.2 for audience statistics. 3 Aleksandr Lipkov, Indiiskoe Kino: sekret uspekha: razmyshleniia, interv'iu, vstrechi (Kiev: Mystetstvo, 1990), 7, quoting from fans' letters. These letters were sent to the film journal 'Sovetskii Ekran,' where film scholar Lipkov worked between the sixties and the eighties. 4 Ibid.
2 significance through the dynamics of inter-personal relationships. These fIlms were generically and ideologically at variance with prevalent Soviet canonical assumptions about cinema and its purpose. This dissertation explores Soviet audience reception of Indian melodramas in the context ofpolicymaking and cultural mediative practices between 1954 and 1991. Here reception refers to audience readings of these fIlms and the state and media's role in determining and molding moviegoers' fIlm preferences. First, I seek to understand the appeal that Indian melodramas had for their admirers in the Soviet audience. What attracted moviegoers to Indian melodramas? Was it the fIlms' generic features, the viewing context, or a combination of both that facilitated audience enjoyment of these fIlms? Second, I intend to explore the context in which audience reception of Indian melodramas took shape. Why did the state tolerate or encourage the screening of Indian popular fIlms? Did cultural mediators consider admirers of Indian melodramas to be a legitimate audience and did movie enthusiasts have opportunities to express their appreciation for these fllms publicly? This dissertation proposes to examine Soviet cultural practices through the prism of the Indian melodrama. An examination of audience preferences for Indian melodramas and official policy in that regard tests rigid conceptualizations of official and popular culture, which assume that these realms are invariably shaped by mutually exclusive interests in authoritarian societies. Instead, the Indian melodrama experience in postStalinist Soviet society suggests a culture of negotiation, engagement, consonance and accommodation among various interest groups involved in the reception of Indian cinema.
3 Furthermore, Indian films offered their Soviet admirers socio-cultural scenarios and realities that inspired comparisons and provoked viewers to question their own social experiences. Therefore, an exploration of the significance Indian films came to acquire in post-Stalinist society situates Soviet moviegoers in a transnational context and interrogates prevalent paradigms of Soviet experiences with foreign, 'bourgeois' cultural forms of expression. Looking at the Soviet experience with globality from the vantage point of Indian cinema, rather than American or western cultural media, demonstrates the pragmatism and flexibility that characterized Soviet cultural policy with regard to the 'bourgeois' world. It also indicates that Indian films caused viewers to compare 'our lives' and 'their lives' and to critique domestic socio-cultural realities. This introduction first offers the reader an overview of Indian cinema, both its characteristic forms and its global significance. It proceeds to an explanation of the disciplinary meta-narratives that this study engages, and the theoretical concepts that underpin the central questions. It then describes the chapter organization and concludes with an explanation of the sources and parameters of the dissertation.
Indian cinema
At the outset it is essential to present, however briefly, the history of postindependence Indian cinema. 5 India is now home to the world's largest f11m industry, which produces films in more than 15 Indian languages. The two main streams of filmmaking in India are popular cinema and art cinema. Indian popular films are the dominant cinema in India; popular films produced in Bombay in the Hindi-language have acquired a larger audience than other Indian cinemas
5 The Indian film industry dates back to the I 89Os; the first Indian to make a film did so in 1899. The first all-Indian full length feature film was made in 1913.
4
both at home and abroad. 6 These ftlms are characterized by drama, spectacle, fantasy (within culturally defmed bounds), songs and dances, pronounced good and evil characters, and the invariable happy end. Film authorities retained the older colonial censorship that forbade kissing and nudity on screen, as essential to "preserving" Indian culture. However, the song picturizations border on the erotic to compensate for the lack of explicitly sexual scenes, and recently, kissing has been permitted on occasion. In essence, it is a "cinema of interruptions," owing to the strategic placing of song and dance sequences in the narrative, the intermission during the show, and the frequent flashbacks in these ftlms' narratives. 7 Indian popular ftlms combine elements of the melodrama, the western, the thriller, drama, and comedy with characteristics of Indian folk theater and local epic story-telling traditions. Some attnbute this eclectic quality in popular films to the evolution of Indian cinema during the anti-colonial movement; filmmakers used cinema to create an independent cultural form that would incorporate local artistic traditions and indigenize western filmmaking techniques. 8 In India, these films are often called mainstream, popular films or 'masala' films. Masala is a Hindi word that describes a particular combination of spices; hence, this nomenclature for a kind of cinema that defies standard western classifications. As stated earlier, these ftlms are primarily referred to as Indian melodramas or commercial films in the former Soviet Union. In the words of an Indian scholar, studying Indian popular ftlms is studying "Indian modernity at its rawest." 9 These ftlms grapple with issues of modernization and 6 Henceforth, this dissertation uses 'Indian popular films'/ 'Indian melodramas' to refer to Hindi-language popular films produced in Bombay. The film industry in Bombay is popularly known as 'Bollywood' (the Bombay Hollywood), especially outside India. 7 Lalitha Gopalan, Cinema ofInterruptions. Action genres in contemporary Indian cinema (London: British Film Institute, 2002), 16-24. 8 Gopalan, Cinema ofInterruptions, 17. 9 Ashis Nandy, "Indian cinema as a slum's eye view of politics," in The Secret Politics ofOur Desires: Innocence,
culpability and Indian popular cinema, ed. Ashish Nandy (New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1998).7-10.
5 the changes this process has wrought in Indian society. This is particularly true of the popular films made in Bombay in the immediate aftermath of independence in 1947, a period otherwise known as the Golden Age of Indian popular cinema. These early postindependence popular films, often described as 'social films,' reflected the social and political consciousness of their makers. The characters in their films were socially engaged young men and women, troubled by the colonial legacies with which India was left to grapple. A decade later, a shift occurred in the social and political ethos of popular films. The new hero was a swashbuckling, urbane and wealthy young man, free of the
social guilt that had plagued the heroes of the popular films of the fifties. Subsequently, the seventies also saw the emergence of a new popular ftlm hero - 'the angry young man.' This hero-prototype flourished in a period when the underclass in India was becoming marginalized, and the establishment seemed incapable of solving fundamental social problems. This film hero of the seventies and eighties functioned as vigilante, righting social injustices and winning his love-interest in the denouement of the film. Popular films contain social commentaries that are interwoven into melodramatic narratives. These ftlms valorize "respect for kinship and friendship obligations, destiny, patriotism and religion (and religious tolerance) as well as controlled sexuality."I<>m general, at the center of the film there is a romance, often a love triangle where class, religious, or ethnic distinctions are played out. In these films, social problems manifest themselves and find their resolution in the realm of human relationships and personal trials. As these films are produced in a democratic society, it is common to see pronouncements about the importance of government accountability. Protagonists are often journalists, lawyers, activists, or social outcasts charged with holding the political authorities responsible for their acts. These formal traits and narrative tendencies
10 Rosie Thomas, "Indian Cinema: Pleasures and Popularity," Screen 26, no. 3-4 (1985): 116-117, 127-128.
6
accentuate the incongruity of these films' presence in Soviet society and the paradox of their promotion by the Soviet state. The second stream of filmmaking in India is that of art cinema, which differs from the mainstream popular cinematic tradition. A pioneering figure in this nonmainstream cinema was Satyajit Ray, whose films achieved international renown in the fifties. In the sixties, the Indian state actively began to finance and provide facilities for 'progressive' filmmakers whose films diverged from popular cinematic fare; these films came to be called 'art,' 'new,' and 'parallel' cinema. In the former Soviet Union, these films are also known as India's 'progressive cinema.' Although their projects are funded by the state, art filmmakers pride themselves in being critical observers of the political and social milieu in India. Indian art cinema proposes to draw attention to India's social ills with missionary zeal, and its filmmakers consider this medium to be a means to raise awareness and provoke thought among the audiences about what ails India. Generally, its middle-class directors have been preoccupied with rural India, where they consider the 'authentic' or 'real' India to reside. Together, art filmmakers have practiced different formal approaches to filmmaking, from Italian neo-realism to militant art aesthetics. Their films also draw upon traditions of Indian folk theater. Ultimately, these directors' claim to being distinctive is their "integrity" and ''vision,'' juxtaposed against "imitative" mainstream ftlmmakers. 11 The two cinemas, art/parallel and mainstream! popular/ commercial/melodrama, initially took opposing positions and claimed differing agendas. However, since the eighties, films have been made that straddle both categories of filmmaking. The popular films that were imported and screened in theaters across the Soviet Union were Hindi-language films produced in Bombay. The Indian art films, to which II Sumita S. Cbakravarty offers an interesting discussion of the self-definitions of those making parallel films in her
National Ideology in Indian Popular Cinema, 1947-87 (Austin: University ofTexas Press. 1993).235-248.
7
smaller Soviet circles were privy at fIlm weeks, festivals and retrospectives over the decades, were sent from all the fIlm producing centers of India. Between 1949 and 1991, the Soviet Union screened 206 films from India. A mere thirty-one of these were art fIlms (including two 'progressive' realist fIlms screened in Soviet theaters in 1949 and 1951). The majority of the fIlms imported from India beginning with the 1954 festival, approximately 175, were Indian popular films or melodramas.
The global face of Indian popular cinema
The assertion that Indian popular films are a global cultural force and that their audiences are important enough to investigate situates this dissertation in the tradition of post-colonial scholarship in India that seeks to place Indian melodramas and their millions of admirers in the academic spotlight. Indian popular films became a critical subject of academic scholarship in India in the late eighties. Due primarily to the regular analyses of popular fIlm texts in the prominent Indian journal 'The Economic and Political Weekly,' a substantial volume of work has emerged since the eighties that analyzes Indian popular fIlm texts as sites where discourses of nation, linguistic communities and gender have been constructed. Yet, these films still have their critics in the West, who often measure Indian cinema against
'universal' cinematic conventions. Indian art cinema, which conforms to most of those conventions, passes muster with the western media but Indian popular films are subjected to condescending value judgments. The problem with British and American film studies has been that British and American melodramatic fllms are presented as the prototypical form, and all other fIlm melodramas (whether made in India or other Asian countries such
8
as Indonesia and Japan) are found wanting in comparisonY In a lively defense ofIndian melodramas, Rosie Thomas rued the "arrogant silence" of "First World discourse" with regard to this dominant form of Indian cinema. Thomas was gratified to see that this was changing in Britain in the eighties; television channels had run successive seasons of Indian popular films. Yet, critics in British media continued to write about the "lack of realism" in Indian melodramas and failed to engage in an analysis of conventions of 'realism' in Indian literature and mythology that might explain the concept of verisimilitude in Indian popular filinS.13 The result is that Indian melodramas, until recently, suffered "near-chronic omission" from global histories of cinema. 14 Notwithstanding this discursive marginalization in the west, Indian popular films have become widely successful among diasporic and foreign audiences, while Indian art filmmakers have acquired a relatively minor foreign audience. Indian popular films' implicit treatment of problems of modernization and the industry's vast distribution network have made Indian popular cinema, in many non-western societies, a form pitted against the "cultural imperialism" of Hollywood. 15 The linguistic and cultural affinities of people on the Indian sub-continent have facilitated the success of Indian melodramas among India's neighbors. In the context of ambivalent Indo-Pakistani inter-state relations, it is Indian popular cinema that has unfailingly built bridges on the sub-continent. Afghanistan was one of the largest markets for Indian popular films until the Taliban banned Indian cinema. In post-Taliban Afghanistan, the first movie-hall that opened
12 Paul Wiliemen, "Negotiating the Transition to Capitalism: The case of Andaz," in Melodrama and Asian Cinema, ed. Wimal Dissanayake (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 179-181; Paul Willemen, "Questions of modernisation and Indian cinema," in Global Encounters in the World ofArt, ed. Ria Lavrijsen (Netherlands: Royal Tropicallnstitute, 1998), 101·110. 13 Rosie Thomas, "Indian Cinema: Pleasures and Popularity," 116-117, 127-128. 14 Ashish Rajadhyaksha, "Introduction," in The Encyclopaedia of Indian Cinema (Chicago: Fitzroy Dearborn, C1999), 10. 15 Rosie Thomas, "Indian Cinema: Pleasures and PopUlarity," 116.
9
screened an Mghani classic and an Indian popular ftlm, and movie theaters are packed with Indian popular ftlms once more. The popularity of these fIlms has also been established by audiences in countries further from the subcontinent, in Central and Latin America, the Middle East, East Asia and Africa. At a recent international fIlm festival in Morocco, fans thronged to see Indian fIlm superstar Amitabh Bachchan and publicly expressed their preference for Indian cinema over Hollywood fIlms. In Burkina Faso, only Indian popular fIlms ensure high theater revenues, and some classics are endlessly re-run in local theaters. Hausa audiences in Nigeria even have local names for the fIlm stars they enjoy watching in Indian melodramas. In many parts of the west, Indian popular fIlms are no longer ghettoized as 'Asian immigrant culture' and are increasingly co-opted into mainstream cultural forms. One of the most successful London West-End musicals recently has been Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'Bombay Dreams,' a take-off on the world of Bombay cinema. It boasts the fIrst ever completely South Asian cast in a West-End production and the musical score is by one of India's most prominent composers of fIlm music. The musical had its Broadway premiere in late spring, 2004. In the Netherlands, the main Dutch television channels have regularly broadcast Indian popular ftlms, and the Amsterdam Film Museum has frequently screened ftlms from Bombay. In America, the director of the successful "Moulin Rouge" (2000), Baz Luhrmann, declared that the inspiration to make this Hollywood musical came from Indian popular ftlms, with their legendary combination of comedy, tragedy, heroism and their abundance of music. These are only some recent examples of the far-reaching sway of Indian popular ftlms.
10 Among supporters of Indian melodramas abroad, the Soviet and post-Soviet audience for Indian melodramas is one of the earliest and most enduring. The popularity of Indian melodramas in the Soviet Union has hitherto been the subject of fleeting references in Indian fIlm studies. This project offers the Soviet audience its rightful place in the global history of the Indian melodrama and, simultaneously, gives Indian fIlms their just importance in the history of Soviet popular culture.
New cultural paradigms This dissertation engages two signifIcant disciplinary meta-narratives in its analysis of the practices of fI.lm import policy, fI.lm discourse and audience reception that evolved around Indian melodramas in post-Stalinist Soviet society. The argument pursued in this discussion represents a paradigm shift in the study of Soviet society in that it examines Soviet culture as a site of negotiation between official and popular cultural preferences, and a site of engagement between local imagination and foreign media.
The complexity ofSoviet cultural practices In this project, Soviet reception of Indian melodramas is examined as an interface at which official interests, the discourses of mediators, and audiences' movie preferences
intersected. This dissertation analyzes how cultural policy, public discourse and audience reception related to each other as they took shape around fIlms imported from India. These entities' (importers, critics, sociologists and moviegoers) divergent and compatible views of Indian fIlms' value as cinema indicate the ways in which they 'negotiated boundaries' between officially propagated aesthetic standards and alternative moviegoing preferences.
11 This analysis of views and preferences of audience members and their relation to policy seeks to further the idea that the realms of official and popular culture, even in authoritarian societies, are susceptible to negotiation and/or mutual influence. The neoMarxist categories of 'dominant' and 'alternative' cultural systems, used to refer to official and non-official cultural processes, are particularly useful in pursuing this argument. This paradigm is significant because it acknowledges as possible the continued presence within the same context of preferences and practices at variance with officially propagated values. According to this paradigm, every society has a "central system of practices, meanings and values, which we can properly call dominant and effective.,,]6 The dominant cultural paradigm is not imposed on a society from above; rather, these values and ideas are hegemonic as they "saturate" social experience to a greater extent than the term 'ideology' suggests. Dominant ideas are experienced as 'normative' because of forces of persuasion that act through media and educational institutions, and through other social and cultural practices. However, these preferred ideas are not immune to change and influence. They are tested by time and fluid historical circumstances and are continuously "modified," "renewed, recreated and defended.,,]7 In the process of creating a dominant set of values, certain meanings and practices are excluded. In any society, these excluded values and practices continue to be present, and sometimes are reinterpreted in a manner that does not contradict or oppose the dominant paradigm. Otherwise, they continue to function within the dominant culture as alternative forces. It is also possible for these alternative cultural practices and values to overcome the pressures and limits of the hegemonic culture and exhibit independence. 16 Raymond Williams, "Base and Superstructure in Marxist Cultural Theory," in Rethinking Popular Culture. COlltempol'aI:v Perspectives in Cultural Studies, ed. Chandra Mukerji and Michael Schudson (Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1991).413. 17 Ibid.
12 The point at which an alternative cultural practice begins to be perceived as oppositional, the extent to which this occurs and the openness with which it occurs, vary in accordance with the historical situation. In this interaction between dominant and alternative or oppositional cultural preferences, the cultural process bears witness to negotiation. Because ideologies work through persuasion or through hegemony, there is always room for negotiation. The dominant paradigm 'reinvents' itself to adapt to changing contexts; similarly, alternative cultural practices constantly negotiate the dominant paradigm. Using this model, this project considers the negotiation between dominant and alternative ideas about the function of cinema and the needs of the audience, in the context of Indian cinema's reception in the post-Stalinist years. First, in order to achieve this holistic approach, this project examines both policy
and reception, deviating from prevalent works on Soviet popular culture. Euro-American historical studies that treat Soviet film have lacked a discussion of audience reception and the 'practice' of culture. The paucity of published and archival sources and the earlier impossibility of conducting ethnographic research in the Soviet Union meant that the preferences and opLnions of the movie audience have been subsumed in the emphasis on production and policymaking. Richard Stites, in his work on Russian popular culture, deals briefly with the popUlarity offoreign and domestic films in post-war Soviet society. However, his work is concerned with the broad realm of popular culture, and does not pretend to be an in-depth analysis of audience reception. 18 References to audience turnout are scattered in works on cinema in the Soviet Union, and these occasional observations
18 Richard Stites, Russian popular culture: entertainment and society since 190() (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992).
13 rely exclusively on quantitative data. 19 Moreover, this data is chiefly concerned with the reception of domestic cinema,z° The thrust and concern of scholarship on cinema in the Soviet Union has been film production and its inextricability from the political vicissitudes of each stage in Soviet history. Looking at policy alone reinforces the state-centered perspective of Soviet history and gives us only a partial account of the cultural sphere in Soviet society. Studying reception is essential in order to understand cultural practices in their entirety. By considering how viewers read Indian films and how they responded to official ideas in that regard, this project focuses on the audience in its historical context. It is important in the study of Soviet history that we understand the real effectiveness of official cultural prescriptions and the attitudes of other groups in relating to those prescriptions. We can accomplish this only by examining both production and consumption/reception practices as they related to each other or negotiated each other. Second, this view of the cultural process as a site of negotiation and interaction between dominant and alternative views is at variance with those implied or pronounced by prevalent studies of Soviet popular culture. Commentators generally based such analyses on the assumption that official culture was one that sustained the cultural canons and acted out the purely ideological agenda of the state, while popular cultural expressions rejected that agenda. Richard Stites on Russian popular culture, Denise Youngblood on movies in the Soviet Union in the twenties, and Frederick Starr on Americanjazz in the Soviet Union furthered our understanding of the limited reach of the
19 Maia Turovskaia, "Tastes of Soviet Moviegoers during the 19308," in Late Soviet Culture: From Perestroika to
Novostroika, ed T. Lahusen and G. Kupennan (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1993) 95-108; "K probleme massovogo fil 'ma v sovetskom kino," Kinovedcheskie Zapiski 8 (1990): 72-79. 20 D. B. Dondurei, "Zritel' 70-x: dramy obydennogo vospriiatiia," Kinovedcheskie Zapiski 11 (1991): 97-108; Denise Youngblood, Moviesfor the Masses: popular cinema and Soviet society in the 19203 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992).
14 Soviet state's cultural agenda. 21 According to them, Soviet citizens continued to value forms of entertainment other than those the state considered appropriate, and in this manner created a cultural space for resistance. During the Khrushchev and Brezhnev eras, for instance, the sway of official culture could not prevent the rise of autonomous cultural practices. Undoubtedly, these scholars have made important contributions to our understanding of the resilience of popular tastes and preferences in the face of official cultural propaganda. Such an approach assumes, however, that official interests were necessarily at odds with popular cultural practices, where the latter evolved despite the presence of the former. To see popular culture as invariably steeped in the politics of resistance is to romanticize it. This impulse to locate resistance in expressions of popular culture can take us from one extreme (seeing cultural policy in the Soviet Union as totalizing), to the other (associating all autonomous cultural practices with opposition or rejection of official culture). The shift of emphasis only replaces one monolithic perception with another. This dissertation interrogates such strict demarcations between official and popular culture and the credibility of the prevalent Manichean view of Soviet culture. The following analysis of Soviet cultural practices rejects common associations of popular culture with resistance and instead emphasizes the interaction, the publicly expressed plurality of views and the commonality of interests between various groups with regard to Indian melodramas. Indian melodramas' reception in the Soviet Union did not signify dissent, but the presence of a heterogeneous culture in post-Stalinist society where
21 Richard Stites, Russian popular culture: entertainment and society since 1900; Fredrick Starr, Red and Hot. The Fate of Jazz in the Soviet Union. 1917-1980 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1983); Denise Youngblood, Moviesfor the Masses: popular cinema and Soviet society in the 19205.
15 dominant ideas about cinema coexisted with alternative moviegoing habits that were legitimate and officially accommodated.
The Soviet experience ofother social landscapes In addition to examining Soviet popular culture as a site of engagement between dominant and alternative values, this dissertation also offers a new perspective on Soviet culture and its exposure to foreign cultural influences. The goal here is to understand the ways in which Indian melodramas may have shaped practices and ideas among moviegoers and the associations India came to acquire in the local imagination. Exploring the global dimension is essential to scholarship on Soviet popular culture and practices because it helps us understand how Soviet moviegoers/citizens 'negotiated boundaries' between local, 'normative' values and the different material and socio-cultural realities projected in foreign media such as Indian popular cinema. This exploration of the interaction between the local and the foreign draws on recent scholarship on 'transnational cultures.' An essential feature of the study of transnational culture is to acknowledge that ideas and media stem from multiple points of origin. This approach disrupts traditional binary oppositions of the West and non-west that project the fonner as a source of all cultural flows and the latter in a reactive and resistant, rather than pro-active role (This tendency has been referred to as an 'inverted narcissism' that "reduces non-western life to a pathological response to Western domination,,22). The concept of transnational cultures, thus, rejects the predominant association of cultural globalization with westernization, and particularly
22 Brian Larkin, "Indian films and Nigerian lovers: media and the creation of parallel modernities," Africa 67, no. 3 (1997): 408-409, quoting Ella Shohat and Robert Starn, Unthinking Eurocentrism (New YOlK: Routledge, 1994), 3.
16 Americanization. The fact is that America is but "one node of a complex transnational construction of imaginary landscapes.,,23 The second contribution of transnational studies is to help explain what happens to foreign cultural imports once 'received' into local communities. In order to conceptualize the intermingling of different cultural forms of expression and influences within a society, the chief theorist of transnational culture Arjun Appadurai first articulated the concept of 'public culture.' Public culture is that arena where folk, rural, urban, and transnational cultural forms mingle and shape each other. It is a "zone of debate" that eschews distinctions ofhigh/low, official/popular, urban/rural, and national/foreign cultures. 24 Studying public culture, thus, also involves examining the function of foreign cultural media in a local community. In this public cultural space, Appadurai posited a new kind of cosmopolitanism, where people now see their own reality "through the prisms of possible lives offered by the mass media." This means that even in the most oppressive circumstances people observe and measure their realities with relation to images of lives lived elsewhere. They "no longer see their lives as mere outcomes of the givenness of things, but often as the iconic compromise between what they could imagine and what social life will permit." One cannot underestimate the role of transnational media, whether cinema or television networks, in the creation of a new 'social imagination' that extends to include, as participants, social groups otherwise geographically scattered. Global ethnography must be concerned with not only the lived "particularities" ofpeople's lives, but also the imagined worlds to which the 'local' has
23 AIjun Appadorai. Modernity at large, Cultural Dimensions qf Globalization. Public Worlds. Volume J (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2000). 31. 24 Aljun Appadorai and Carol A. Breckenridge, "Why Public Culture?," Public Culture (Bulletin of the Project for Transnational Studies) 1, no.l(I988): 5-9,
17
access, for this plays an important role in how people think about their lives and live them.25 The call to undertake global ethnographies and study transnational cultural practices has generated engaging research, among which Brian Larkin's project on audiences of Indian melodrama in Nigeria deserves mention. Larkin demonstrated that Rausa viewers identify with the world portrayed in the Indian melodramas that they enjoy. That world is different enough for the Rausa audience to contemplate it as an alternative reality; simultaneously, it seems sufficiently similar for them to identify with. For instance, portrayals of love and sexuality in Indian melodramas have allowed Rausa viewers to contemplate such issues in their own lives, where Islamic law prescribes social mores. These audiences feel comfortable engaging with Indian fIlms, where they are not confronted with the ideological baggage of western cinema. Larkin underscores the importance of studying Indian popular cinema as integral to everyday Rausa reality, since Rausa audiences participate "in the imagined realities" of Indian culture in their everyday lives. 26 This project's quest to understand what Indian melodramas meant for their Soviet admirers is a preliminary attempt at undertaking an analogous transnational ethnography. It does this by considering the reception of a non-western cultural medium in Soviet
society and by endeavoring to understand the impact of that foreign medium on Soviet admirers' perceptions of their own lives. First, breaking out of the cold war model and examining the role of media from India, which was neither of the socialist nor the capitalist bloc, offers a more nuanced picture of the Soviet Union's experience with globality. Hitherto, Euro-American studies 25 Arjun Appadurai, Modernity at Large. Cultural Dimensions o/Globalization, 53-56. 26 Brian Larkin, "Indian films and Nigerian lovers: media and the creation ofpara11el modernities," 406-440.
18 of Soviet society have been characterized by a lack of attention to cultural influences from places other than America. It is important to study the place of American and other western media in Soviet society in order to understand the limits of official Soviet cultural policy. However, these analyses of American and other western cultural media in Soviet society perpetuate the cold war view of Soviet official culture as inflexible, isolated and hostile to 'bourgeois' cultural forms. In his work on popular culture, Stites acknowledged that the cultural scene under Khrushchev and Brezhnev was increasingly heterogeneous. But he contended that it was only the collapse of the Soviet system that caused Soviet society to be "deluged by the world cultural system, called in some quarters "Americanization.",,27 However, if we study Soviet society by examining foreign imports from places other than the west, the image we are left with is of a society that was already a part of the global cultural system in a significant way during the post-Stalinist period. India was the largest non-communist state with which the Soviet Union had close cultural and trade relations, and it was a meaningful player in Soviet cultural reality. Moreover, Indian cinema's global significance was already growing at the time that Soviet audiences were exposed to it; by the sixties, it had begun to rival Hollywood in its worldwide sphere of influence. Studying post-Stalinist Soviet society in relation to non-western global media and 'non-aligned' foreign cultural actors who were encouraged to playa role in it provides us a different measure for assessing the 'openness' or 'isolation' of Soviet society. The second aspect of transnational ethnography this project makes a preliminary attempt at unraveling is understanding what, if any, political/cultural/social associations Indian films came to acquire for their Soviet audiences. Did Indian melodramas offer
27 Stites, Russian Popular Culture, 206.
19
Soviet moviegoers other possible 'vistas' to imagine and covet; vistas that made them question their own reality? Indian melodramas of the seventies and eighties, for instance, had stock villains and heroes; the heroes were vigilantes while the villains were certain corrupt members of the police force, inefficient bureaucrats, or untrustworthy politicians. I assumed that interviewees in Moscow would narrate to me the impact these characterizations had on their views of their political reality. Surely, they watched with interest the scenes offree elections and popular voting. Surely, they could not have missed such potent symbols of freethinking and democracy as portrayed in these films. However, despite my pre-fieldwork presumptions, I soon discovered that viewers did not give much thought to scenes that demonstrated India's democratic political culture. How did Soviet viewers negotiate the world of Indian popular films? This dissertation demonstrates, through viewers' memories of Indian films and contemporary audience letters, that many moviegoers found in their exposure to this cinema a way to contemplate alternative socio-cultural scenarios. They used their readings of Indian films to challenge several Soviet cultural prescriptions, compared their own reality to that displayed in these films, and often coveted that which was shown on screen. In postStalinist Soviet society, these admirers made such observations and comparisons public, in their letters to film journals and newspapers. Audience reception of Indian films indicates that the Soviet public, under state patronage, was exposed to social landscapes that diverged from its own; it also demonstrates the impact of that exposure on Soviet moviegoers' assessments of their own milieu.
20 The central questions and theoretical underpinnings
Having considered the historical meta-narratives this dissertation engages, the introduction will now articulate those theories in media reception studies that shaped this analysis of Indian films' reception. The central questions in this project concern moviegoers' penchant for Indian films and the context in which their reception of these films took shape. A$ stated earlier, 'reception' of Indian popular films indicates not only viewers' reading of the films, but also the institutional and discursive context in which that reception took place. Here, I consider the theoretical constructs that have proved
useful in the discussion of these two core questions.
How did Soviet admirers read Indian melodramas?
In examining the ways in which Soviet viewers 'received' Indian melodramas (as evident in viewers' recollections and in letters of the contemporary audience), this work draws on a wealth of research on audience reception. Of central importance is the scholarship that concerns reading strategies, the significance of the emotional pleasures inherent in the act of viewing and the 'productivity' of active moviegoers.
Reading strategies and context
It is now widely acknowledged in film and cultural studies that the reader of a
book or the spectator of a film has agency and is an active, not a passive reader; but this was not always an accepted notion. Early Marxist cultural critics, whose influence prevailed in film studies until the sixties, had little faith in the capacity of the movie audience to reflect and think critically when confronted with a film text. According to Theodor Adorno and the Frankfurt School, the commodification of culture in the modem era stifled the individual's capacity to be critical and diminished the individual's
21 revolutionary potential. This view translated into a denigration of cinema, a massproduced commodity. In this analysis, mass media such as the cinema were artifacts of capitalist production that deluded audiences into accepting the status quo uncritically. Concomitantly, these critics perceived spectators to be passive and unreflective 'subjects' of the bourgeois ideology that was considered inherent in cinema and the culture industry.28 Other theorists on the fringes of the Frankfurt School distanced themselves from this dismissal of mass culture and instead stated that modernity brought in its wake revolutionary ways of looking. For Walter Benjamin, cinema and its reception were inextricably linked to the spectrum of changes that modernization had wrought in the early twentieth century. In his contributions to thinking about reception, Benjamin (like Siegfried Kracauer) posited a 'neurological modernity,' where the development of sensory perception corresponded with transformations in modern life. He drew a parallel between the radical changes in the urban social and environmental landscape and cinematic techniques such as montage, close-ups, and fast and slow motion. 29 Benjamin was among the ftrst to articulate the revolutionary potential of rum and the mode of reception it facilitates. Earlier, an art form's aura of authenticity sustained its distance from the viewing public. Now, the diminishing of the distance between new reproducible art forms such as the ftlm and the audience transformed spectators into experts. Thus, in contrast to Adorno and the Frankfurt school theorists, Benjamin emphasized the audience's critical sensibility as being fundamental to the democratizing potential of mass culture. Moreover, because of the reproducibility of modern artistic forms, the audience had an opportunity to become participants in the making of the art product In fact, 28 John B. Thompson, Ideology and Modem Culture. Critical Social theory in the Era ofMass Communication (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1990),97.101. 29 Ben Singer, "Modernity, Hyperstimulus, and Popular Sensationalism," in Cinema and the Invention ofModem Life, ed. Leo Charney and Vanessa R. Schwartz (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995), 91·93.
22 Benjamin considered this potential of cinema to have been realized in the Soviet cinema of the twenties. 3o The Soviet Union was itself no stranger to theories that posited the critical role of the reader or viewer in reception. Before the Soviet aesthetic of reception crystallized in the thirties into one that was intent on forging the ideal reader or spectator, some Russian scholars had proposed considerations of the reader in literary studies (the basis for corresponding theories about the movie audience both here and in the west). A pioneering figure in theorizing the critical reader was Alexander Beletskii, a literary scholar who wrote in the twenties. Beletskii proposed that no work of art was inherently artistic or mediocre. Instead, it was the reader who had to evaluate the work of art, give it meaning or articulate its 'idea;' the idea could be unknown even to its author. Beletskii posited the heterogeneity of a readership, claiming that a history of literature must be prepared to unearth a readership that was not "single-storied," but "several-storied," with perhaps "additional annexes." Thus, he emphasized that reception was critical, differentiated, and essential to studying art forms. 3! Until the seventies, the field of film studies in the west was mainly concerned with how the structures of cinema or film texts created subjects; the audience, in much of the work at that time, was still homogeneous and textually derived, rather than empirical. By this yardstick, the audience's reaction to a film was read off the text and the audience's readings were predetermined on the basis of the perceived characteristics of the film text. Critics called this presumption that texts are self-contained in their meaning,
30 Walter Benjamin, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction." in Illuminations. ed. Hannah Arendt (New York: Schocken Books, 1969),217-251.
31 Alexander Beietskii, "~b odnoi iz ocherednykh zadach istorilw-literaturnoi nauki (izuchenie istorii chitatelia}." Nauka na Ukraine (Khar'kov) 2 (1922): 97, quoted in Evgenii Dobrenko. The Making of the State Reader. Social and Aesthetic Contexts of the Reception ofSoviet literature, trans. Jesse M. Savage (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), 8-9.
23 the 'fallacy of intemalism. ,32 This speculative approach fmany changed when the Birmingham Center for Cultural Studies began to conduct research that considered the 'real spectator.' This center undertook ethnographic research and engaged real viewers, who were observed and interviewed in actual viewing situations. A pioneer among these scholars was David Morley, who published his fmdings based on observations of a television audience. Morley reiterated the polysemy of the language of a book or a film; a text was capable of carrying mUltiple meanings. Although he emphasized viewers' individual readings, he considered the overriding influential factor in audience readings to be class. Since then, other researchers have studied audience readings as also shaped by gender, ethnicity, and other factors and have challenged Morley's exclusively class-based analysis of audiences. 33 However, Morley was one of the first scholars to credit the viewer with agency and acknowledge the multiple potential meanings of texts. This signified a breakthrough in cultural analyses of readers and spectators and led to a surge of interest in studying audience reception. The emphasis in reception research since has been on the 'agency' of viewers, who 'use' cinema and contribute to the making of its meaning. This research also suggests the possibility of several potential readings or the multiplicity of interpretations a viewer brings to the film. Spectators are 'real people,' who respond to the screen in ways that are determined by both the unconscious and contextual circumstances of the viewing experience. Their readings of a film occur within a particular socio-historical context and they bring to each reading their understanding of the world, of morality, social codes and, of course, perceptions of their own immediate reality. Janice Radway's work on readers of romantic novels was innovative in this regard because she worked
32 John B. Thompson, Ideology and Modern Culture, 104-105.
33 Janet Staiger, Interpreting Films: Studies in the Historical Reception ofAmerican Cinema (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992),71-72.
24 with 'actual' readers in order to understand their interpretive strategies. Radway interviewed a group of women, who borrowed romances from the same bookstore in a town called Smithton. Her work was concerned with how readers' interpretations contested or reaffIrmed the patriarchal ideology inherent in the romance novel. While the readers did not subvert that ideology in their interpretations of the stories, the very act of reading romances and marking out leisure time for themselves in the domestic space of the house was an act of resistance. 34 These readers informed Radway that they juxtaposed both the act of reading the novel and the lives of its protagonists against their perceptions of their own domestic realities. Like books, f11ms are not a priori repositories of meaning that determine reception; the meanings of fIlm texts are constructed by the spectator in a 'context-dependant' manner. This will become evident in viewers' own narratives on the appeal of Indian fIlms, as they relate the attraction of these f11ms to various contextual factors at the time of reception.
Emotional pleasures: escape and identification Our understanding of spectators' reading strategies is enriched by an
acknowledgement of the emotional dimensions ofa spectator's viewing experience. The Russian Nikolai Rubakin, a 'biblio-psychologist,' made one of the earliest pleas for understanding the psychological dimensions of reading texts. For Rubakin, a book was not its author or creator, but the sum total of a reader's emotional experiences, stimulated in the reading process. As he articulated, "The content of a book we have read, and the qualities we ascribe to its author - this is our own selves.,,3s
34 Janice Radway, Reading the Romance: Women, Patriarclry, and Popular Literature (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1984). 35 Nikolai A. Rubakin, "Rabota bibliotekaria s tochki zreniia biblio-psik;hologii. K voprosu ob otnoshenii knigi i chitatelia," in Chitatel'ia i kniga. Metody ikh izucheniia. Sbornik statei (Khar'kov, 1925), 46-49, quoted in Evgenii
25 Rubakin's ideas anticipated the interest of many contemporary western film scholars in the emotional aspects of audience reception. These scholars argued that studies of audiences all too often marginalized the element of 'pleasure' . Entertainment was dismissed as 'mere' pleasure or escape, an assumption based on many moviegoers' lack of 'rational' explanation for their enjoyment of a film.36 In her study of viewers in Holland who enjoyed watching 'Dallas,' Ian Aug proposed that pleasure was neither 'automatic' nor 'natural.' Instead, one had to "investigate which mechanisms lie at the basis of that pleasure, how that pleasure is produced and how it works ....,,37 Many research participants, when asked to explain their interest in Indian films, said cryptically, "I don't know; I simply enjoyed them, that is all!" (''Ne znaiu; prosto liubil/a, i vsio!). This hardly meant that they did not know why they enjoyed these films. On the contrary, their emotional pleasures were 'constructed,' in that they related specifically to features of films and to the viewing context that rendered this entertainment 'pleasurable.' Many film theorists now draw attention to the pleasures of desire and daydreaming that films induce; that is, in other words, the capacity of classical cinema to provide 'escape.' In this regard, Ernst Bloch's concept of hope-landscapes to explain the escapist appeal of Hollywood cinema is of particular importance. Here, hope referred to a vision of a better world and life and represented the utopian aspect of classical cinema. Bloch described cinema's utopian effects as "the world offairytale, brightened distance in travel, the dance, the dream-factory of film, the example of theater." Thus, while classical cinema of the melodramatic or science fiction kind was not inherently utopian, its
Dobrenko, The Making oj the State Reader. Social and Aesthetic Contexts of the Reception ojSoviet literature (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), 10-11. 36 Sara Dickey, Cinema and the Urban POOl' in South India (Melbourne: Cambridge University Press. 1993), 13-14. 37 len Ang, Watching Dallas: Soap Opera and the Melodramatic Imagination (London: Methuen, 1985), 19.
26 technologies executed utopianizing effects, tbrough a ''wishful-landscape'' of sortS. 38 According to Bloch, the utopian feature of classical cinema worked as an 'antidote' to the ideological trappings of classical cinema and ensured this cinema's box-office success. Richard Dyer used Bloch's theory of hope-landscapes to articulate further the escapist functions of classical cinema and entertainment, and to highlight the emotional dimension of the movies. However, the significance of Dyer's contribution was his emphasis on the historical and cultural settings in which that utopian element of entertainment acquired its meaning for the spectator. He wrote: "It is important to grasp that modes of experiential art and entertainment correspond to different culturally and historically determined sensibilities." Dyer constructed a model to understand escape, by juxtaposing the emotional appeal of cinema against the social inadequacies it helped mitigate. According to him, the utopian element in cinema offered the audience abundance, energy, intensity, transparency, and community, as respite from scarcity, exhaustion, dreariness, manipulation and fragmentation in society.39 Entertainment's ability to compensate for shortcomings (real or perceived) in social or personal lives was at the heart of its escapist appeal, according to Dyer. Therefore, escape was only possible if the elements of a film addressed and offered respite from viewers' real problems.
If escape is defined in this manner, then it becomes equally important to consider what viewers recognize as familiar in the films they watch. A spectator's enjoyment of what she/he sees on the screen can be fuelled by herlhis identification with the cinema. Andrew Tudor offered a model of identification that concerned not only the viewing experience, but also cinematic pursuits outside the movie-hall. He posited the existence of context-specific and diffuse manifestations of identification. Within context-specific
38 Jane M. Gaines, "DreamlFactol)'," in Reinventing Film Studies, ed. Christine Gledhill and Linda Williams (London: Arnold Publishers, 2000),107-110. 39 Jackie Stacey, Star Gazing, Hollywood Cinema and Female Spectatorship (New York.: Routledge, 1994),92-93
27 identification, Tudor further singled out high identification, where the spectator becomes one with the character portrayed and feels personally involved in the unfolding of the plot. Low identification is emotional affinity with a character, whose ideas and views of morality, as well as other features, the audience member shares. Tudor defmed the second form of identification as 'diffuse,' occurring once the viewing process is over, outside the cinema. Here, high diffuse identification is a more intensive process of projection; the spectator begins to live and act as he/she imagines the star to live. Low diffuse identification refers to imitation, which is very common among young audiences. 40 Jackie Stacey referred to these categories of identification as cinematic and extra-cinematic identification in her work on British movie fans' memories of Hollywood f1lms in the fifties and sixties. Here, extra-cinematic identification also encompasses the activities some viewers indulge in as a result of their identification with the films. These models are a useful point of departure; but ultimately, it is each individual viewer who must suggest to us the specific combination of socio-historical, cultural and personal circumstances that render the emotional pleasures of escape and identification so important for him or her.
Audience productivitylpublic participation
Recent research into audience productivity suggests ways to classify various types of audience activity and film reception. In displaying extra-cinematic identification and publicly expressing their love for films, some members of the audience invest even more energy in reception than do others in the audience and qualify to be called movie fans. Kathryn Fuller's work on movie fan culture in early twentieth century America, for
40 Jackie Stacey, SUlr Gazing, 136.
28 instance, drew attention to the productivity of fans who wrote scenarios and fan mail. Fuller concluded that such activities, encouraged by movie magazines even as critics looked askance at movie fan behaviour, increased film enthusiasts' sense of participation in the movies. 41 The ways in which avid moviegoers invest in the movies are fundamental to our understanding of audience reception. In his attempt to defme audience productivity and fandom, John Fiske outlined three types of audience productivity. According to him, the fITst type of audience productivity is 'semiotic' productivity, which encompasses the ways in which all audience members read films and try to make sense of their lives. These spectators are productive, but are not necessarily fans. Moviefans demonstrate 'enunciative' and/or 'textual' productivity. Spectators
demonstrating 'enunciative productivity' engage in fan-talk or ''the generation and circulation of certain meanings of the object offandom within a local community." Those who style their hair or dress in a way that identifies them with the stars they love also participate in 'fan-talk. ,42 On the other hand, fans who write screenplays based on fllms they love, or Madonna fans who make their own videos of her songs exemplifY textual productivity. Finally, fans also attempt to collect cultural knowledge that might bridge the distance between themselves and the cultural form they enjoy. Fiske called this 'cultural capital,' as fans try to gain a 'full' understanding of the making offllms, the off-screen personas of stars, and the culture that produced the fllms. 43 For Fiske, this was 'capital'
41 Kathryn Fuller, At the Picture Show. Sma/I-Town Audiences and the Creation ofMovie Fan Culture (Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1996), 115-168. 42 John Fiske, "The Cultural Economy ofFandom," In The Adoring Audience: Fan Culture and Popular Media, ed. Lisa A. Lewis (London and New York: Routledge, 1992),37-39.
43 Fiske, "The Cultural Economy of Fandom," 42-45.
29 because these moviegoers acquire a sense of ownership and, possibly, empowerment from the possession of fIlm-related knowledge or 'things.' Such an understanding of audience productivity is helpful as I discuss Soviet viewers' film-related activities with regard to Indian melodramas and the entrenchment of these fIlms in Soviet popular culture.44
Did Soviet enthusiasts for Indian melodramas have a public and legitimate presence
in post-Stalinist society?
In order to address the second central question, this project also considers policy issues, the nature of media discourse on Indian cinema, perceptions about admirers of melodrama, and those admirers' public participation. The purpose of this question is to understand the context that shaped the audience's behaviour, as well as the legitimacy and visibility of its presence. While this analysis does not directly draw on theory, it has been buttressed by concepts of intertextuality and interpretive communities in media studies.
Inter-textuality, interpretive communities Reception occurs in a discursive context, a context where other interpretations and 'knowledge' or information about individual fIlms, cinema and stars circulate. AngloAmerican research on audience reception now takes into consideration how non-filmic texts may affect the reading of a film; these non-filmic texts may be advertisements, reviews, and/or fIlm gossip. These texts are circulated outside the film-viewing space 44 Sociologists in the Soviet Union seldom used the word 'fanatiki' or 'fans.' Instead, they preferred the term 'ki1Wliubiteli' or 'film enthusiasts' to refer to those who related 'seriously' to cinema, and 'poklonniki' or 'admirers' to refer to Indian melodramas' loyal fans. By this definition. 'admirers' were those who were unthinking, unreflective in their appreciation of films, while ki1W-liubiteli had the advantage of education, critical faculty and taste in their appreciation of cinema. The near absence of the term 'fan' in Soviet discourse on the audience, however, does not signity the absence of moviegoers who displayed fan-like behaviour.
30 with the intention of holding audience interest. In this regard, a useful tenn is intertextuality, which refers to the totality of texts and discourses that defme and shape
spectatorship. Movie spectatorship is not only a product of the viewing experience, but also of these 'texts' or knowledges that contribute to the ways in which a fIlm is read or enjoyed. 45 These discourses may exercise varying degrees of influence on moviegoers' expectations before they enter the cinema. In her work, Fuller demonstrated that the burgeoning American fIlm press of the twenties contributed to the shaping of audience preferences by building star images and disseminating just enough information about their personal lives to pique the interest of movie fans. The rise of the movie fan in early twentieth century America had as much to do with ftlm-related promotion and publicity, as it had with the screen stars. 46 Other scholars have also suggested the importance of foreknowledge or previous exposure to ftlms in shaping viewers' readings. Richard Dyer indicated four external factors that may shape audience reactions to fIlms or audience foreknowledge. These are knowledge of a story (especially when fIlms are based on books), familiar characters that recur in a series of ftlms, promotion or publicity, expectations of a star or genre based on past exposure to both, and criticism and reviews. 47 It is impossible to evaluate the 'exact' measure of influence these texts may exercise on audiences. As Robert Allen suggests in his discussion of developments in fl.lm research, it is only possible to "attempt to contextualize historical activations of fIlmic texts by taking a stab (and that's all it is) at the cultural repertoires audiences might have brought with them to the theater.'.48 This approach to studying movie spectatorship involves looking beyond the ftlm show and 45 Robert Allen, "From Exhibition to Reception: Reflections on the audience in film history," Screen 31, no. 4 (1990): 354; Janet Staiger,Interpreting Films, 45-48. 46 Kathryn Fuller, At the Picture Show, 115-168. 47 Richard Dyer, Stars (London: British Film Institute, 1998), 107-108. 48 Robert Allen, "From Exhibition to Reception," 354.
31 viewing context to the various know ledges and cultural assumptions outside the theater, which operate along with moviegoers' expectations and criteria to determine a film's reception. Moreover, policy makers, cultural mediators (critics and sociologists) and moviegoers act as interpretive communities in that they bring to the movies certain shared ideas about cinema and its purpose. Stanley Fish used the phrase 'interpretive community' to refer to literary scholars who share assumptions about literature, its goals and literary criticism. 49 As a concept, however, it is flexible enough to be used in other cultural analyses. The phrase 'interpretive' community' does not imply conformity or unanimity in spectators' or readers' interpretations of a text. Members of such a community may differ in their selection of favorite characters or plots but share basic expectations of a book or a film. The commonalities are in the criteria by which they assign value and interpret the film or book.
To form an understanding of the reception Indian melodramas received in Soviet society, I propose to bring to its analysis these understandings of agency, of the emotional dimensions of the spectators' world, and of the types of productivity in which they engaged, as they enjoyed and sustained a popular culture of Indian movies. Additionally, concepts of inter-textuality and interpretive communities can be of help as I consider the ideas and evaluative criteria that various groups brought to these films and to their interaction with each other in post-Stalinist Soviet society.
49 Stanley Fish. Is There a Text in this Class? The Authority ojInterpretive Communities (Cambridge: Hmvard University Press, 1980), 14-15.
32 Structure In order to address the two central questions regarding audience readings of Indian films and the attitudes of other entities towards the melodrama audience in the period under consideration, I examine the role of four groups who contributed to giving Indian melodramas their place and meaning in Soviet society: policy makers, critics and writers, sociologists, and the movie audience. As articulated in the Preface, I undertook this project with 'foreknowledge' of the many reasons for Indian films' popularity among Soviet audiences, and this provoked my intellectual quest to understand the historical significance of this phenomenon. In contemplating the organization of this dissertation, I thought it important that the reader also be aware from the very beginning of the wealth of ways in which Indian films appealed to their admirers in the Soviet Union. Once the reader is armed with knowledge about the needs these films met for their admirers, it becomes more relevant to understand how other actors related both to the films and their avid audience. Thus, the dissertation begins with audience memories as the fundament; the reader then proceeds to consider the historical context of that reception using these viewers' recollections as a constant point of reference. This structure draws immediate attention to the spectatorship, which is at the heart of cultural practices surrounding any cinema. The variety of research methods and diversity of sources also shaped this organization. I structured the chapters so that the narrative begins with retrospective accounts and then proceeds to analyze contemporary historical records. The first chapter is an introduction to the recollections of the melodrama audience, while the subsequent chapters concern policy considerations with regard to Indian melodramas, cultural mediators' perspectives on melodramas and their audience, and the contemporary audience's own vocal participation in the discussion on Indian popular films.
33 In Chapter 1, I place Indian melodrama admirers center-stage and examine the pleasures they derived from watching these films. The purpose of this chapter is to unravel the reasons why many moviegoers were drawn to Indian melodramas. Viewers were asked how they recalled the appeal of Indian films in the past, why they enjoyed Indian melodramas and how the viewing context shaped their movie going experiences. Furthermore, I was interested to know how admirers extended the pleasures of viewing these films into activities outside the cinema. These viewers' responses and narratives represent a valuable source for understanding audience preferences and the manifestation of these choices in viewers' film-related activities. Having examined the ways in which these films are remembered by their supporters, the subsequent chapters explore the trajectory of these films from import to reception. Chapters 2, 3 and 4 examine the historical context that determined audience reception of these films. Chapter 2 discusses how Indian films were selected in Bombay and made their way to Soviet theaters. In this chapter, I am interested in understanding why the state met the audience's need for entertainment by importing melodramas, and how this policy goal could be reconciled with its ideological objection to 'bourgeois' melodramas. Here, the endeavor is to understand whose needs the import policy eventually meet. The import and release of these films in Soviet theaters was inevitably followed by press reviews and other forms of public discussions. I proceed in Chapter 3 to consider the discourse on Indian cinema, which took shape in the press, filmjoumals, and academia. Critics andlor scholars functioned at the interface of state and society and it is important to understand their position on Indian melodramas, vis-a-vis policy makers and the melodrama audience. This chapter explores press and academic articles/reviews on Indian
34 cinema and seeks to understand the extent to which this body of writing took cognizance of the desires and interests of the audience. In the final chapter, I return to the leading protagonists in this dissertation - the movie audience. The audience takes center-stage again as I examine the letters that movie enthusiasts (both admirers and debunkers of Indian melodramas) wrote to the film press and to Goskino between the fifties and the end of the Soviet period. This chapter begins with prevalent sociological concerns about many spectators' partiality to entertaining cinematic genres, and proceeds to examine audience participation in forums meant for the purpose of their involvement. It intends to assess the public opportunities available for the melodrama audience to speak plainly about their favorite films. This chapter also proposes to examine how film officials and cultural mediators responded to the expressed views of Indian melodrama admirers. Thus, the four chapters that follow chart the acquisition, discussion, and reception of the films, processes that shaped the meaning of Indian popular cinema in post-Stalinist Soviet society.
Sources This dissertation is a product of both archival and ethnographic investigations in
Moscow and its suburbs. Research was conducted at the State Archive ofthe Russian
Federation (GARF), the Russian State Archive for Contemporary History (RGANI), the Russian State Archive for Literature and Art (RGALI), Rusexportfil'm (formerly Soveksportfil'm) archives, the Goskino archives, the Russian State Library, and the libraries of Rosinformkino, the Film Center, the State Institute of Cinematography (VGJK), the Institute for Scientific Research on Cinema (NIJK) and the Institute for
Scientific Information in the Social Sciences (INION). Some crucial archival holdings
35 regarding foreign cinema and movie audiences were still classified when I conducted my research. These challenges presented me with an opportunity to be eclectic in my selection of source materials. The dissertation has benefited from a diverse range of sources that includes personal interviews, policy documents, newspaper and journal articles, sociological surveys, and the audience's own correspondence with the authorities. Above all, it was important to me to understand why many moviegoers enjoyed Indian melodramas. In order to address this question, I distributed questionnaires to reach a broad group of respondents who remembered and appreciated the early Indian films of the fifties and sixties. I built on these fmdings by conducting interviews with those who watched Indian films with interest between 1954 and 1991. Thirty-three surveys and 53 interviews reveal the attraction of Indian melodramas in the past and demonstrate the associations these films acquired for many viewers in the Soviet movie audience. Our understanding of movie going in the past can be enhanced by examining viewer statistics, although quantitative data do not reveal what moviegoers thought of the films they watched. The only compilation of Soviet viewership statistics used in this project was provided by Rosinformkino (formerly Sovinformkino), the center for film information in Moscow. The extensive Goskino records of audience turnout for domestic and foreign films in each Soviet republic continue to be for the 'use of staff' only. I was initially granted access to the records, but denied permission within a day. I continue to be in contact with Goskino archives, in the hope of a change in policy. For insights into how Soviet moviegoers participated in the public space that cinema provided in the past, I consider viewers' letters sent to policy makers and the film press between the fifties and the eighties. Audience members with divergent views on Indian popular cinema wrote letters to Goskino between the sixties and the eighties.
36 Many of these letters have been preserved; only the files for the years from 1981 to 1986 are reportedly missing. The filmjoumal, Iskusstvo Kino (The Art of Film) archived readers/moviegoers' letters for the years from 1952 until 1958. Sovetskii Ekran (Soviet Screen) was the self-proclaimed 'mass journal,' and naturally received letters from readers/moviegoers. The archives of this journal were destroyed in 1991 due to lack of space and funding. However, this loss is partially mitigated by the fact that Sovetskii Ekran published letters regularly in its forum pages. Thus, viewers' letters written
between the early fifties and the end of the Soviet period, both published and unpublished, augment the interviews and questionnaires conducted for this dissertation. The study of Soviet import policy draws on the records ofSoveksportfil'm, the organization charged with film import and export in the Soviet Union. The documents concerning the final selection offihns from capitalist countries (as India was categorized) are still classified and inaccessible. Nevertheless, Soveksportfil'm's annual reports and plans and correspondence between regional offices in India, Goskino, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs are available for research. These documents on importation are supplemented by early records of cultural relations between India and the Soviet Union before the institutionalization of the film trade. The analysis of critical writing on Indian cinema considers a spectrum of sources, including articles and reviews that appeared in filmjoumals and a vast array of central and regional newspapers in the Soviet Union between the fifties and the eighties. These writings range from film analyses to general articles on Indian cinema, and include examples of promotional coverage of Indian films. For the exploration of sociological surveys, this dissertation relies on published sociological research in the form of monographs and articles. Monographs and edited volumes of articles are only to be found in specialist libraries; often they are the only
37 remaining copies in circulation. The sarveys that inform these publications are not available for public access. Finally, archival and ethnographic fmdings are supplemented by numerous conversations with film specialists and film professionals in Russia. This project is enriched by formal interviews with Naum Kleiman (film scholar; currently director at the Museum of Cinema in Moscow), Kirill Razlogov, (film scholar, former member of the selection committee for films from capitalist countries and festival selection committee; currently director of the Institute of Culturology), Aleksandr Lipkov (film scholar and Indian film specialist) and Natal' ia Sosina (employee in the editorial department and readers' letters department of the film journal Sovetskii Ekran). Also of benefit were the informal conversations or exchanges with Vera Gribanova (former employee at the Department ofCinematization and Film Release), Maia Turovskaia (film scholar and critic), Mikhail Brashinsky (film scholar, critic, filmmaker) and Iurii Kolosov (former Soveksportfil'm official; currently director of the international cinema department of the Union of Cinematographers). These specialists confirmed that Indian melodramas were exceptionally popular with Soviet audiences, that they "consistently surpassed other foreign films in viewing figures,"so and that they played a "unique and exciting role in Soviet popular culture until the end of the Soviet period."S! These interviews and exchanges were at'"1 indispensable asset as they inspired new research questions and underscored the importance of my topic.
Parameters It is also essential to explain the rationale for this project's temporal parameters-
1954-1991. I knew from contacts in the field and relevant literature that the first Indian 50 Kirill Razlogov. interview by author. tape-recording, Moscow, October 2002. 5] Mikhail BraBhinsky, email correspondence with author. February 2003.
38 popular films had great significance for the early post-Stalinist audience. In the contemporary Russian press this period is remembered with nostalgia, as illustrated below:
Forty years ago, Indian cinema conquered the Soviet Union ... the 1954 festival of Indian films was a real sensation. Bypassing the iron curtain from the east, these films, with their songs, dances and unusual stars, were a colossal success here and ran in house-full auditoriums (ftogi, 1997).52 Similar fond recollections appeared in another article in the late nineties:
The older generation remembers ... the triumphant success of the film 'The Vagabond,'53 which opened the rich and colorful world of Indian cinema to Soviet viewers. Everywhere people hummed the melodies of the films, and the lead actors Raj Kapoor and Nargis54 became so popular that parents named their children after them (Trudovaia gazeta, 1998).55 Clearly, the fITSt films were extremely significant given the particular historical context in which they were released in Soviet theaters. However, I was persuaded to reconsider the period demarcations of my project when confronted with the conventions of popular memory. Pre-dissertation field interviews demonstrated that many viewers did not recollect specific plots or scenes that moved them; they remembered the general 'emotions' associated with the film viewing. These recollections were based on not only the fITSt ftlms in the fifties, but also the viewing of subsequent Indian ft1ms between the sixties and nineties. Considering that viewers' narratives would encompass a greater period than any academic classification can presume to prescribe, I chose also to consider 52 Evgenii Gol'ianov, "Sud'ba brodiagi," itogi, 11 February 1997, 70-71. 53 'The Vagabond' was the most popular film among domestic and foreign movies in Soviet theaters; its 63.7 million viewers were the largest audience of the decade. See Appendix II for a description of popular films cited in the text of this dissertation. 54 Raj Kapoor and Nargis were the lead stars in 'The Vagabond.' See Appendix II for brief bios of the Indian melodrarns stars most frequently mentioned in this dissertation. 55 Israil' Kogan, "Vozvrashenie 'Brodiagi,' Torgovaia Gazeta, 16 September 1998.
39 the reception of later day Indian films. Moreover, contacts in the region constantly brought to my attention the extent of Indian films' popularity in the seventies and eighties. I met several younger viewers, whose delight at being taken seriously and having their interests considered legitimate was infectious. Thus, the temporal framework of this dissertation also expanded to accommodate the enthusiastic participation of those I met in the field. Furthermore, the choice of period was guided by the availability of archival and other sources. Documents regarding policymaking were sparse for the fifties, but substantial for the seventies. Press coverage of Indian cinema was extensive in the fifties and even more abundant in the seventies and eighties. Goskino preserved viewers' letters sent between the mid-sixties and mid-eighties, and viewer mail appeared most frequently in filmjoumals after the late sixties. Clearly, the late sixties, the seventies, and the eighties were best represented in policy papers, film criticism, sociological research and audience letters. However, no study of Indian melodramas in the Soviet Union can afford to exclude the reception of the first films of the fifties. In view of an these circumstances, I chose the solution that would optimally employ the available sources; I elected to cover the entire period. The analysis of preferences and expectations that movie enthusiasts, importers, and cultural mediators brought to Indian melodramas favored a thematic organization. Within each theme - viewers' memories, policy making, critical writing and audience participation - , I have taken into consideration other historical factors in the Soviet Union and India that contributed to changes in the reception of Indian cinema in the Soviet Union.
40
The use of policy documents, critical writing, sociological surveys and audience letters, combined with questionnaires and personal interviews, constitutes a holistic approach to studying the place ofIndian melodramas in Soviet society. The ensuing chapters propose to examine why the audience for Indian melodramas came to exist and how public and acceptable its presence was in post-Stalinist society.
41
Chapter 1
VIEWERS REMEMBER INDIAN MELODRAMAS
"I liked watching Indian films. 1 I would go for several shows in a day sometimes ... I was never satisfied with one show." (Leontina Boiarshchina,2 on watching Indian films in the fifties and sixties)
"The postman went from door to door announcing 'Today! Indian film show!' The people on the kolkhoz tried finishing their work early in the fields and at home, and then rushed to watch the film . They waited all night in the cold . .. for the film to arrive . .. ." (Igor Belotserkovskii, on the popularity of Indian films in Western Ukraine in the fifties and sixties).
"We enjoyed Indian films . .. how we cried during these shows. I wept so much. The young men in our neighborhood would accompany us and say "Oh god, why do you spend 40 kopecks to shed so many tears?" We cried enough tears to make the Indian Ocean." (Valentina Kireeva, on the films of the fifties and sixties).
"There was such a crowd to see 'Disco Dancer,3 ... , it is very hot in Tadjikistan and people jostled each other for tickets. One man was killed in the rush for tickets." (Asmatbek Shakarbekov, on the popularity of Indian films in the eighties)
"Once I had children, I did not go out much. However, I went once a week to the Indian film club . .. This time was sacrosanct, non-negotiable. A friend was in love with Mithun4 ••. she recently traveled to India, looked for his home and waited outside to meet him. It was only her return ticket home that forced her to abandon her wait." (Irina Fazlova, on the popularity of Indian films in the eighties and nineties).
I Viewers who are aware of the many film schools in India distinguish between melodramas and the 'more serious' cinema; otherwise, Soviet moviegoers used 'indiiskiejil'my' to refer exclusively to Indian popular films because of the latter's predominance in Soviet theaters. 2 Interviewees are referred to by name. See Appendix V for interviewee profile. Names in the appendix are listed in order of first appearance in the text. 3 See Appendix II for a listing and brief description of the Indian melodramas cited in this text and I or generally mentioned in conversations about Indian cinema in the Soviet Union. 4 See Appendix II for descriptions of Indian melodrama stars most frequently mentioned by viewers.
42
Melodramas from India were consistently wen-received in Soviet theaters, 5 and public demand for them was legendary. A verse submitted by a reader to the ftlmjoumal
Sovetskii Ekran in 1971 suggested that only an Indian yogi could withstand the wait in the serpentine queues for tickets to Indian popular films. 6 The first Indian ftlm shown in the Soviet Union in 1949 was a realist ftlm about the partition of the Indian subcontinent, but it went largely unnoticed by Soviet movie audiences. 7 Indian melodramas made their
grand entry in the Soviet Union in 1954, when a ftlm festival was held in Moscow and the rest of the country. These films and their actors charmed Soviet moviegoers instantaneously and continued to evoke audience appreciation until the late perestroika years. This chapter engages Indian melodrama enthusiasts in a discussion of the
pleasures of viewing Indian popular films in the past. How do viewers recan the role of Indian melodramas in their lives, and the enjoyment of the viewing experience at an Indian ftlm show? What did Soviet moviegoers seek and fmd in Indian melodramas? How did these films shape admirers' perceptions of their own realities and lives? Section I presents the findings of my questionnaire on the importance of the cinema in the fifties and sixties, and on viewers' enthusiasm for Indian melodramas in these initial decades. Section II discusses and analyzes the appeal of Indian melodramas as articulated by viewers in interviews conducted for this project; it also considers some moviegoers' disillusionment with these films over the years.
5 See Appendix I, Table 1.1 and 1.2, for a compilation of audience statistics. The original, extensive data on audience turnout are still classified. However, Kirill Razlogov has worked with the comprehensive statistical data on audience turnout (for other research purposes), and confinned that the data consistently showed that Indian films drew larger audiences than any other foreign films until the end of the Soviet period. Razlogov, interview, October 2002.
6 "Mini retsenzii," Sovetskii Ekran 15 (1971): 21. 7 None of the respondents or interviewees remembered seeing these films and believed that the first Indian fiJms to be screened in the Soviet Union were those of the 1954 festival.
43
Studying historical reception
Before discussing the questionnaire and interview fmdings, it would be helpful to consider the methodology employed in this research. Cultural history and mm history have seen very few works on audiences because the sources available to understand how viewers interpreted films in the past are few. In any society, contemporary ftlmjournals are the obvious place to begin since they published readers/ viewers' letters that expressed interest in cinema. However, published letters always undergo a process of selection and only fragments make it to the journal pages. Additionally, writing letters to journals represents only one form of reception and these letters cannot indicate the range of ways in which films were appreciated. Therefore, such letters cannot be the exclusive source for studying historical reception. Undaunted by the paucity of data on audience reception in history, some scholars have persisted in the effort to understand spectators' interpretations offllms in the past. For instance, Jackie Stacey sought to study historical audience reception by inviting responses from readers of popular film magazines in Great Britain. 8 She asked readers to write about their memories of watching Hollywood fIlms in the forties and fifties, and used their letters to discuss textual interpretations, as well as memories of the context of that reception. The work of such scholars has inspired the methodology and line of questioning employed in this research. Faced with constraints such as the absence of extensive archives of viewers' letters, and given the fragmented nature of published letters, interviews and questionnaires were the best means to uncover an area of Soviet history that has suffered neglect in scholarship. 8 Jackie Stacey, Star Gazing: Hollywood Cinema and Female Spectatorship (New York: Routledge, 1994).
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In studying historical movie spectatorship, it is imperative that we also understand the role memory plays in reconstructing a picture of past audience reception. Unlike anthropology, which uses the participant-observation method to study audiences at a movie show or engages movie audiences about contemporary films, historical analyses of audience reception have to rely on spectators' memory. As indicated in the Introduction, viewers who participated in this project mainly remembered the emotional experience of watching an Indian f11m, or the generic elements of the films that appealed to them. Their narratives and responses rarely evoked specific scenes; only a fraction of these viewers recalled particular scenes in various films that have remained memorable. Subsequent information garnered about the stars and familiarity with later-day Indian popular films also shaped participants' accounts of why this cinema appealed in the past. Moreover, memories of going to an Indian film show in the past were usually nostalgic recollections of childhood or university years and the corresponding 'innocence' of that phase of life. The act of recollecting films in the Soviet period provoked spontaneous comparisons with contemporary film repertoires and viewers' movie going habits today. Therefore, retrospective accounts of reception are much more than specific readings of film texts; they are statements about the socio-historical context of past reception and
contemplative observations about the present. Participants in the questionnaires and interviews conducted for this project enjoyed watching Indian melodramas between 1954 and 1991. Their recollections indicate the many expectations these viewers brought to the movies and the needs that the viewing of Indian melodramas met. Although not statistically representative of the larger
45
movie audience, these participants' observations are representative of the views generally offered by Soviet admirers of Indian melodramas. 9
SECTION I:
REMEMBERING INDIAN FILMS: QUESTIONNAIRE FINDINGS
My questionnaire was intended to elicit information about the early Indian films and the importance of the cinema as a leisure activity in the Soviet Union of the fifties and sixties. 10 As indicated in the Introduction to this dissertation, in Soviet and postSoviet writing this first phase of Indian films is remembered as a significant event in the lives of domestic audiences. Therefore, it seemed crucial to focus on audience reception of these initial melodramas; interviews would subsequently expand the period of the project to include later-day viewers. The sampling strategy was 'purposive' or 'theoretical.' I sought respondents who had been active moviegoers in the fifties and sixties and were part of the early enthusiastic audience for Indian films in the fifties. It was essential that respondents had been avid viewers of Indian melodramas because I was keen to understand the attraction of these films and the needs they met in the post-Stalinist context. Respondents born in the early 19408 or earlier would qualiry, as they would remember conscious reception of the first films in 1954. Since the research subject was Indian films' reception in the fifties and sixties, respondents born in the 1950s were also eligible to complete the 9 I was gratified to observe convergences between the reasonings of respondentslinterviewees and tlJose offered by many Indian melodrama viewers in their own letters to the film press and the state between the fifties and the eighties. Chapter 4 considers these other sources for understanding audience reception. J0 Refer to Appendix IV for the questionnaire (English version).
46 questionnaires (Those born in the late fifties would remember watching Indian films in their childhood years in the late sixties). As a research method, questionnaires are far from ideal in that respondents rarely dwell on the viewing context or on related events and anecdotes, because they may consider these to be 'inessential' to the central questions. However, this method helped reach those viewers of Indian melodramas who had little time for an interview, were sick, and/or unable to travel or entertain a researcher at home. The 'self-completed' questionnaires were distributed widely, in a variety of workplaces and residential areas. Of the fifty people approached, thirty-seven respondents completed the questionnaires. I have excluded four of these questionnaires from this analysis, because their respondents were born in later decades and were unable to recall films of the fifties and sixties. Thus, I consider here the recollections of thirty-three respondents on the subject of the appeal of Indian films and movie going in the fifties and sixties. These questionnaires were anonymous.l1 Twenty-nine of the thirty-three respondents were between the ages of 62 and 94. The other four respondents were between the ages of 44 and 55. The latter had fewer vivid memories of the fifties, but were able to answer general queries that had to do with early Indian films. Twenty-six female and seven male respondents completed the questionnaires. The questionnaire requested respondents to state their nationality. Twenty-three Russians, two Ukrainians, two Armenians, and one Uzbek national completed the questionnaire. Three respondents declared their nationality as 'Jewish,' and two others left the field blank. The profile of the respondents also demonstrated variation in 11 I refer to respondents by their corresponding number, as listed in the profile table, Appendix V.
47
professional backgrounds, consisting of engineers, teachers, accountants and factory workers. The questionnaire posed multiple-choice and open-ended questions. 12 The multiple-choice questions provided some standard answers as options, but also afforded the respondent the possibility of touching on areas not encompassed by the choices. The questionnaire required that five important questions be answered in detail on a separate sheet. Some respondents obliged, but most restricted themselves to brief answers. One category of questions asked respondents to describe movie going in the fifties and sixties (qs. 4, 15-20). Respondents were required to evaluate the importance of the cinema in these decades and to state the frequency with which they attended the movies. Two open questions in this category sought to understand why movie going was enjoyable in these years (qs. 17, 20).13 A second category of questions was concerned with viewers' memories of Indian films in the same years. In order to compensate for the questionnaire's inherent lack of depth, I posed specific questions that would also evoke memories of the viewing context (qs. 1,2,3,5-14). The three most important questions in this category sought to explore the significance Indian melodramas may have had for respondents,14 respondents' favorite memory of the flhns or of an incident connected with Indian flhns, and the
12 Pre-dissertation field interviews prepared the groundwork for further ethnographic research on subsequent trips. These sample interviews allowed me to develop questions for interviews on my subsequent trips and were useful practice in the art of interviewing.
Additionally, I found Jackie Stacey's questionnaire for viewers who remembered enjoying Hollywood
films in Britain, in the forties and fifties, extremely useful. See Stacey, Star Gazjng. 13 Questions 15 to 20 treated the two decades separately because movie going did change between the early post-Stalinist and the Brezhnevian periods. This was manifested in the increased number of foreign films, the rise in domestic production and the spread of movie facilities in the Soviet Union by the sixties. 14 Pre-dissertation sample interviews with admirers ofIndian melodramas indicated that the films bad shaped the professional choices of many in the Soviet audience. Hence, I considered it necessary to pose a question on any significance the films may have bad for respondents (and later, interviewees).
48
appeal ofIndian films of the fifties and sixties (qs. 7,9,12).
I. Movie going in the fifties and sixties The importance of movie going described by respondents in this questionnaire provides a framework for investigating audience reception of Indian melodramas. Thirty-one of thirty-three respondents listed cinema, sometimes in combination with theater and estrada (the music and/or variety show), as their favorite fonn of entertainment in the fifties (question 16).15 Memories of movie going in the sixties did not reflect a change in viewers' fondness for cinema. Thirty respondents selected cinema as their favorite fonn of entertainment in the sixties (question 19).16 Only one respondent did not select cinema as his/her choice of entertainment in these years, although it had been in the earlier decade (rs. 11). Thus, an absolute majority of respondents identified movie going as their favorite leisure activity in these two decades. Over fifty percent of the respondents, twenty-one respondents to be precise, went to the movies at least once a week in these years. 17 Others went often, 18 twice a month 19 or less than once a month (question 4).20 Questions 15 and 18 specifically asked respondents to cite foreign films other than Indian films that were a part of the theater repertoire in the fifties and sixties. Many answers about the fifties cited trophy films21 and films from socialist countries, while
J5 All respondents except respondents 4 and 18. 16 All respondents except respondents 4, i5 and 31. 17 rs. L 2, 5, 6, 8, 9. 10. 12. 14. 16. 17,20,21,23,24,25,26,28.29.30.31.33. 18 rs.3, 27. 19 rs. 4,7.11. 13. 15, 18. 19. 20 rs. 22. 32.
49 others listed Italian and French films in their recollections of the sixties repertoire. The questionnaire requested participants to elaborate on the reasons they found movie going appealing in the fifties and sixties (questions 17 and 20). Respondents' answers revealed no overwhelming consensus on the appeal of the cinema since they focused on different aspects of movie going. Movie going as a leisure activity was important for these respondents because the films appealed orland because the cinema met their need for a particular kind of entertainment. Respondents named one or a combination of these factors to explain why the movies were enjoyable. I highlight here the main points that emerged in their questionnaires.
Movie going: The quality offilms Recollections of movie going in the fifties and sixties sometimes identified the appeal of movie going to be the film repertoire itself. For six respondents, the films of the fifties made movie going enjoyable.22 Trophy films, Soviet historical films and Indian films earned specific mention in these answers. For one respondent, the appearance of new films made cinema of the fifties memorable (rs.8). For respondent 12, it was a time of quality domestic cinema. Respondent 15 thought Indian melodramas made movie going enjoyable in the fifties, while respondent 31 remembered the fifties as a time of "good, humane, warm films that were a feast for the souL" Addressing the question of moviegoing in the sixties, eight respondents found the films themselves to be the reason why the movies were enjoyable in this decade. 23 Cinema was attractive because fllms in those years were "gentle" and "clean." For 21 These were American and German films, often apolitical comedies or Tarzan adventures, seized by the Soviet army during the occupation of Germany. 22 rs. 8, 12, 15,29,31,32. 23 rs. 1,2,6,8,21,31,32,33.
50
respondent 21, fIlms of the sixties portrayed "clean" relationships, and they were enjoyable because the fIlms had "love songs, humor, life-stories and dances." As these are accounts of reception almost a half century after the fact, they are necessarily retrospective. This is demonstrated in the observations of respondent 31: "Films then were gentle. Nowadays, life is fast-paced and fIlms have a corresponding tempo." Respondents also remembered the attraction of new Italian and French fIlms in these decades. Respondent 1, for instance, found the acting performances of Italian stars and the fIlms' talented direction to be the enjoyable aspect of movies in the sixties. Respondent 6 enjoyed the ''beautiful fIlms from Italy, France and the United States" and their "great actors," and respondent eight relished the "new foreign fIlms," where viewers saw lives unlike their own. Respondents, thus, attributed the pleasures of moviegoing in the sixties to the numerous new foreign ftlm productions, among which Italian, French and American fIlms came in for special mention.
Movie going: A glimpse of the outside world Movie going, moreover, was a means for many to become acquainted with societies beyond Soviet borders. Six respondents considered the value of cinema in the fIfties to be their opening up of different cultures and worlds to Soviet spectators.24 Respondents used phrases such as "broadening horizons" (rs. 25), "knowing about life in other countries" (rs. 26), and "getting acquainted with foreign life" (rs. 2), to describe their enjoyment of the movies in the fIfties. In the words of respondent 3, "cinema in the fIfties was a window to the world." The cinema's capacity to reveal other worlds to moviegoers in the Soviet Union remained the most common answer about the appeal of movie going in the sixties. Nine 24 rs. 2, 3, 16, 18,25,26.
51
respondents of the 33 cited this exclusively or in combination with other factors as a reason they relished going to the movies in the sixties. 25 As respondent 3 recalled: "Thanks to cinema in those years, we became acquainted with the life and art of European and other countries." Other respondents confirmed the importance of cinema as a form of cinematic travel. Foreign mms, to these early moviegoers, were a means to become familiar with societies about which information was scarce at the time. In the words of respondent 6, cinema was "the only window to the outside world, for those who lived behind the iron curtain." Answers also emphasized the importance ofmms' function as documentary; the cinema allowed spectators to vicariously travel to other cultures and learn about them. Respondent 24 enjoyed the movies in the sixties because he/she learnt about "customs, norms, nature, urban architecture, music, social problems, and history of other countries." Respondent 31 remembered that the movies performed a valuable function of bringing remote societies to Soviet moviegoers in a period of restricted traveL This viewer observed that the role of cinema has changed at present, since borders have become porous and travel abroad more common-place. Cinema in the early post-Stalinist period was a significant element because it facilitated the broadening of social landscapes for the Soviet public and compensated for most moviegoers' fettered travel opportunities.
Movie going: A social event Some respondents remembered movie going primarily as a social event. 26 The cinema's significance went beyond the screening of the mm itself; the theater facilities and the outings before and after the show enhanced the appeal of movie going for these 25 rs. 3, 6, 8, 18, 19,24,25,26. 30. 26 rs. 6. 7,17,27.
52
viewers in the ftfties and sixties. Writing about the flfties, respondents recalled the concerts before the fJlm shows as being the main attraction in movie going: 27 Respondent 6 recalled: "For me, this was a festive occasion; there was a music concert before the show, a canteen." A similar answer was that of respondent 7, who recalled that the enjoyable music orchestra before the ftlm show, a good canteen and the availability of ice cream rendered movie going a joyful event in the ftfties. Movie going was also a space for socializing, as illustrated by this observation: "The theater was not only a place to watch a :film, but also to meet friends. We bought tickets in groups. When these were hard to come by, collective showings were organized ... people grew close on these occasions. I have the most pleasant memories of cinema in those years" (rs. 17). Recollections of going to the cinema highlighted the shared pleasures and the spirit of community engendered by ftlm shows in the ftfties. Four respondents thought movies in the sixties were fun because they went with family or friends and shared the pleasures of the viewing experience and the activities that preceded and followed the show. 28 In the case of respondent 4, movie going in the sixties remained memorable due to the female companionship he enjoyed at the ftlm show. Respondent 27 remembered the interactions with people and the discussions after the ftlm show with fondness. Respondent 28 also indicated the importance of the cinema in fostering a sense of community among spectators, who shared the enjoyment of both the viewing experience and the interactions it encouraged: "In our village, this was a great event - to go to the club on holidays, to watch a ftlm and stay for the dancing." Viewers also remember movie going in the sixties as a family occasion, as illustrated in the comments of respondent 29: "On holidays, people usually walked around Moscow with 27 IS. 6, 7, 27. 28 IS. 4, 27, 28, 29.
53
families, and a trip to the movies was essential. At the time, we still did not have television at home." The pleasure of going to a film show in the fifties and sixties was remembered as a collective activity and an outing that facilitated social interaction and shared enjoyment.
Movie going: diversion
Three respondents writing about the fifties described the function of the movies as providing space for relaxation and entertainment. These answers highlighted the importance of the emotional dimensions of the viewing experience. Movies were a relaxing experience and a time "to watch beautiful people on screen" (rs.l). It was the most pleasurable and entertaining activity in those years (rs.30), and a "pleasant way of passing time" (rs. 25). Two respondents cited relaxation as a motive to go to a film show in the sixties?9 In the words of respondent 23: "On the one hand, cinema diverted one from worries and problems on the one hand, yet on the other hand, I was able to identify with the fate of the heroine in foreign and domestic films." The movies provided a means for diversion and encouraged some viewers to feel involved in the films' narratives.
Movie going: Accessible entertainment
Movie going was attractive to some viewers because of the proximity of the theaters or the cinema's general accessibility. It was the most convenient and accessible form of entertainment in the fifties. 3o Writing about movie going in the sixties, one respondent remembered that it was within everyone's budget, unlike today, when it has 29 rs. 23, 27. 30 rs. ll, 31.
54
ceased to be affordable (rs. 10).
To conclude this section, I will sum up respondents' general observations regarding cinema in the fifties and sixties. Most respondents recalled no changes in their movie going habits between these two decades; only a few specifically cited the presence of new European films from Italy and France as a new, sixties phenomenon. Participants' revelations about the importance of movie going in their lives should help us contextualize their recollections of the popularity of Indian melodramas. These respondents did not watch Indian popular films to the exclusion of all else, and their appreciation of these Indian films was not a product of their lack of exposure to other cinemas.
IT. Remembering Indian rums in the fifties and sixties
The questionnaire was chiefly concerned with viewers' recollections of their past reception of Indian melodramas. Earlier research had revealed that participants do not always have a pat response to the question: ''why did you like Indian fllms?" The questionnaire therefore used thirteen questions to glean information on the appeal of Indian fllms for these respondents. 31 If one question did not necessarily inspire much articulation on the subject, one or more of the other twelve would do so. Questions concerned not only why respondents enjoyed Indian films in the period under consideration, but also how they manifested that interest in film-related activities. How did respondents remember the first festival, what was the appeal and significance of 31 Questions 1,2,3,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14.
55
Indian melodramas for these viewers, and what was a favorite memory of an Indian melodrama or a related event? Did viewers demonstrate a sustained interest in these films over the decades under review and did that interest [md expression in extra-cinematic activities? Did some have reason to become disillusioned with these films? I present here the answers categorized according to the main question areas because such an organization indicates precisely which question respondents ,were addressing when they articulated their recollections in their chosen manner. This seemed the most honest representation of the findings of my questionnaire. Such an organization also demonstrates that viewers' answers consistently corroborated each other, even when responding to variously phrased questions.
The first film festival of 1954 Considering that the 1954 film festival was the Soviet audience's first exposure to Indian popular films, I asked respondents what they remembered about the first and second Indian film festivals of 1954 and 1956 respectively (question 8).32 Eighteen of the 33 respondents remembered the 1954 festival, either because they had been present at the festival or because they had read about it in various publications. Recollections emphasized the ecstatic reception the Indian film delegation received and the novelty of the films themselves. For 11 respondents, the festival of 1954 had been an important event and a sensation, for which public interest was great and tickets were hard to come by. These viewers remembered the euphoric reception received by the film delegation when they 32 Many respondents were more active and conscious moviegoers at the second festival than the first and this determjned the inclusion of the second festival in this question. Nevertheless. respondents seemed to recall the first even! better than the second one.
56
visited the Soviet Union for the festival. 33 They recalled the "extraordinary interest of Muscovites" and their own interest in the ftlms (rs. 8), ''the love of the viewers for the actors" (rs. 9), and the royal reception granted the visiting stars from India (rs. 31). Large crowds waited to watch every ftlm, and there were heated discussions after the ftlms (rs. 8); the radio played music from the fl1ms constantly (rs. 24). Respondents remembered that it was a much-talked about and frequented event. The ftlms attracted a large viewer turnout, and recollections of the time often refer to the long queues, the difficulty of getting tickets, and the overcrowded halls (rs. 6, 8, 25). Viewers in cities other than Moscow remembered reading about the event in the papers.34 In the words of respondent 23: "I was not at the festival, but 1 read about it in the journal Ogoniok and watched excerpts in the ftlm journal Novosti dnia." Respondent 10 was not in Moscow at the time of the festival but remembered hearing that it was spectacular, that "people loved the ftlms, and that Raj and Nargis came on a visif' (rs. 10).
Six respondents described the festival in terms of the novelty of the ftlms themselves. 35 For one respondent, the festival fl1ms demonstrated the similarity of the problems facing the two countries. He cited a song in an Indian ftlm ("I wear a Russian hat, but 1 have an Indian soul") to demonstrate this closeness (rs. 16). For another respondent, the festival satiated moviegoers' curiosity about other countries and became a landmark event for this reason: "This was a huge, joyful occasion for Soviet people. Finally, people could watch ftlms from another country. Gradually, we began to learn about people's lives in other societies. This was very important; the world opened up for us" (rs. 33). Respondent 5 also emphasized the popularity of the festival and the attraction 33 rs. 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, II, 19,24,25,31,33. 34 rs. 10, 12, 23, 26, 28, 29. 35 rs.2, 3, 6,16,19,33.
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of the genre of the films: "We were dying to see the films; for us this was a festive event. Each film lifted our spirits with the music, dances, and the warmth of the actors." Once the 1954 festival week ended in the major cities, moviegoers in other regions of the country had access to these films in local theaters. Respondents watched these first Indian melodramas between the years 1954 and 1957, at the festival andlor later (question 1). The questionnaires demonstrated that some viewers had been motivated to watch the first Indian films based on advertisements they had seen in theaters and filmjournals. 36 Respondent 9 was inspired to see the first Indian films because "everywhere one could hear Indian film music." Some respondents remembered that friends, family or colleagues had recommended the film, and others remembered that their parents had taken them to see these early films. 37 For instance, respondent 21 recalled: "At first, my friends and acquaintances saw the films and told me about them. We watched them with bated breath; we liked everything in these films - actors, plots, songs, and dances. We saw the same film several times with pleasure. Soviet moviegoers' admiration for Indian popular cinema only grew after this event." Respondents viewed the first Indian festival films and subsequent Indian films of the fifties in various parts of the Soviet Union (question 6). In Moscow, they watched these films in theaters such as Udarnik, Khudozhestvennaia, Moskva, and Zaria. Respondents also remembered theaters in Leningrad such as Ekran and Svet for their screenings ofIndian melodramas. Small theaters on the outskirts of Moscow, in the suburbs of Serpukhov and Protvino, also screened these Indian films. Some viewers watched early Indian films in local clubs, or clubs at their factories. 38 One respondent remembered watching these films at the Moscow State University club (rs. 19). Many 36 rs. 2. 9.10.24. 37 rs. 5. 20. 21, 23. 25.31. 38 rs. 4. 12,28.29.
58 viewers remembered that their initial exposure to the Indian films of the fifties was in Tashkent, Thilisi, Krasnodar, the village Vysokinichi in Tomsk, the village Ren'evka in Voronezh, the village Kitia in Odessa, and in Ukraine. 39 Respondents' answers, thus, suggested the widespread circulation of Indian melodramas in the Soviet Union in this early period.
The appeal of Indian melodramas
What was the appeal of Indian popular fllms; was it their genre, the stars or some other reason that motivated the audience's interest in these fllms? Two questions sought to learn viewers' reasons for enjoying Indian melodramas (questions 5 and 7). Question 5 was a multiple-choice question that offered respondents the option of selecting 'plot', 'genre', 'advertisement', 'review', friends' and family recommendations, name of actor/director,' and 'other' to indicate their reason for watching Indian films. Respondents selected one factor or a combination of factors for their answer. Nineteen respondents, a majority, selected 'genre' either alone or along with other factors. 4O Although this was a closed multiple-choice question, some participants elaborated their reasons for enjoying the genre of the Indian popular fllms. Respondent 9 suggested that it was the appeal of the "east" and the ''unusual'' music, dance and performances, which were different from the European films to which this respondent had been hitherto exposed. The theme of Indian fllms was a factor that attracted sixteen respondents to these films in the fifties and sixties. 41 The reputation of the actor and the director also inspired 39 rs. 7,12,13,14,20,27, 28, 29, 30. 40 rs. 1,2, 6, 7, 9,11,12,14,17,19,20,22,23,24,35,27,31,32,33. 41 rs. 2, 7, 12, 14, 15, 19,21,22,23,24,25,26,27,29,32,33.
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viewers to watch Indian films; 15 respondents based their decision to go to an Indian f11m show on this factor. 42 Recommendations offriendsl family played a role for 11 of the 33 viewers. 43 Some articulated 'other' reasons for going to Indian films. For one respondent, the availability ofleisure time shaped his decision to go see an Indian f11m (rs. 13). For respondent 18, the decision to watch Indian films stemmed from her "sympathetic attitude towards Indians' struggle for independence." Advertisements played a role in selecting Indian fllms for only 2 viewers (rs. 10,30). Regular exposure to Indian films meant that viewers went to an Indian f11m show with expectations based on past viewings. 'Foreknowledge' or familiarity with the genre and themes of Indian films was the most common reason for watching Indian popular cinema.
In response to question seven, which required participants to describe in detail the attraction of Indian films, respondents articulated the appeal of the generic or thematic features of Indian melodramas and the act of viewing these films.
Appeal: Theme and genre For most respondents, the particular combination of formal traits and storyline made Indian popular fllms eminently enjoyable. I will consider separately the various aspects of Indian melodramas' appeal that received mention in the questionnaires, although respondents wrote about them as the combined attraction of these fllms. Thirtytwo of the 33 respondents highlighted the music, star charisma, the 'national' characteristics and the aesthetic of the films in their descriptions. 44 Only 3 respondents 42~.5, 43~.
7,10,12,15,16,17,19,20,21,22,23,30,32,33. 4,5,8,16, 17,21,23,24,25,30,33.
44 All except respondent 4.
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mentioned the 'problems' the films presented. 45 For instance, respondent 33 remembered that issues dealt with in Indian films in the fifties and sixties bore similarities to problems post-war Soviet Union faced; this respondent considered these shared problems to be hunger, poverty, and destitution. Such exceptions aside, the films seem to have been mainly generically and aesthetically pleasing. Most respondents paid little attention to the social dilemmas and problems that the films addressed. One third of the respondents specifically found the story line of Indian films to be worthy of mention. 46 Melodramas' explicit juxtaposition of exaggerated good and evil personages found a sympathetic audience among these viewers. Respondent 12 found the plots or themes of Indian films different and original (rs. 2). Respondent 17, on the other hand, found their predictability appealing and stated: "The plot is sometimes a little naive, but often justice and good prevailed and evil was punished." The perceived 'naivete' of the fIlms fulfilled a cathartic function and met an emotional need. Referring to these films' inevitable happy end, respondent 30 declared this was "the trusted finale, when everything was in harmony again." For others, the 'goodness' that permeated the fIlms and the happy end "lifted ... spirits for a few days" (rs. 15). One respondent, an Armenian who had lived in Baku, enjoyed Indian films because she could identify with their "warmth" and their "eastern ethos" (rs. 5). For others, the films were morally edifying and the simple melodramatic story lines were instructive and compelling. Their appeal was that they always preached 'good,' and proclaimed that evil would not escape retribution (rs. 7). It has been said that Soviet audiences particularly lauded characters they could empathize with, or whose suffering evoked compassion.47 This is particularly true of the 45 rs. 8, 24, 33. 46 rs. 2, 5, 7,10,13,15,17,22,28,30,31.
47 Ellen Mickiewicz, Media and the Soviet Public (New York: Praeger, 1981),80.
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heroes in Indian films, whose dramatic ordeals and tribulations struck a sympathetic chord among the audience. Six respondents mentioned their affinity with the characterizations in Indian melodramas. 48 The intensity of the suffering and anxiety (rs. 2), the trials of the heroes (rs. 10), the dramatization, and the likeable hero-protagonists (rs. 32) are common observations on the appeal of Indian films. Respondent 7 recalled that Indian film heroes inspired empathy and a sense of shared suffering among viewers. Viewers found characters in Indian melodramas to be commendable; they praised heroprotagonists for their virtuous behaviour and their selflessness in the face of a greater ideal, especially love or friendship. Respondent 19 remembered that the performers were so talented that they were capable of portraying the best characteristics of the heroes they played, such as their "intelligence, charm, generosity of spirit, faith in friendship, willingness to sacrifice oneself in the name of love." One respondent recalled the female stars, whose on-screen characters were "so sweet and feminine" (rs. 17). Others attributed the films' attraction partly to the physical appearance of the stars on the screen. 49 One respondent said she usually left an Indian film wanting to look like the female protagonist (rs. 15). Answers also reflected an admiration for the costumes and clothes in the fllms. 50 Not only the actors' physical appeal, but also their artistic talent received ample recognition in respondents' comments. These viewers remembered the stars for their compelling performances. 51 Respondent 16 explained that the brilliance of the actors' performances in the early films persuaded Soviet filmmakers to make a joint film with India in the fifties. Some viewers found the aesthetic appeal of Indian fllms worth mentioning: "In Indian films, everything is beautiful. The women are beautiful, as are the clothes ... the 48 rs. 2,7,10,17,19,32. 49 rs. 8, 10, 11, 15,23,26,29. 50 rs. 6, 21,26,27,29.
62
songs" (rs. 29). Respondent 28 shared this view: "They were beautiful films ... romances." For respondent 31, the aesthetic appeal of the films made the event of viewing an Indian film "a feast for the soul." Most respondents were exultant about the music and dance in Indian films, which captured and held their interest for years. For one viewer, the 'eastern music' was captivating and brought back memories of childhood years in Baku (rs. 5). Respondents wrote that the films always had "good music with beautiful Indian dances" (rs. 7), or "memorable melodies, and songs with unusual rhythm" (rs. 6). Respondent 19 remembered the films for their "national music and magnificent songs (some of them were widely popular in the Soviet Union) and stunningly beautiful dances." Respondent 33 also specified that the music and dances were of "special interest" in Indian films. The elements of music, dance, performance, the utopian resolution and aesthetic ethos of the films collectively constituted the appeal of the Indian film genre for these viewers.
Appeal: Learning and diversion
Along with the generic features of the films, viewers recalled the films' functions that made the act of viewing these films pleasurable. The viewing of Indian films was a learning experience for most respondents because they 'displayed' the culture and history of India. Eighteen respondents admired Indian films for the opportunity they provided viewers with getting to know an unfamiliar country. 52 Films were seen as introducing viewers to an 'exotic' world of music, dance, and other 'national' traditions; Indian fllms were, thus, read as guidebooks to India. 51 rs. 8, 9,12,16,17,19. 52 rs. 1,2,3,5,6,7,8,12,16,17,18,20,21,23,24,25,26,33.
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Respondents appreciated these ftlms for what they learnt about India's landscapes and architecture. For instance, respondent 1 had found the films of the fifties and sixties enjoyable because they acquainted her with the ''nature, architecture of a country, popularly known as 'strana chudes'" (land of wonders). Indian films were unusual and 'exotic,' and often juxtaposed against European films in viewers' recollections. Echoing this view, respondent 21 explained: "I especially liked the culture of India. It was new and unfamiliar at that time, and different from ours. Life, rituals, dress - everything was different from what we were used to and, therefore, it was interesting." In a similar vein, respondent 8 declared that these first ftlms were ''unusual (compared with European films)" (rs. 8). Other viewers also recalled this feature of Indian popular cinema. The
films appealed because they showed "a different life" (rs. 26) and portrayed ''the way of life, religious rituals, nature, urban architecture (old and new)" of India (rs. 25). Just as recollections of the first festival emphasized the opening of a new world, observations on the appeal of Indian cinema indicated the importance of cinema as a form of cinematic tourism for Soviet spectators. The movies were a way to travel and learn about other cultures, and viewers read films for ethnographic information. These films were described as portrayals of the "life of people in India" (rs. 3, 7, 20) and were appreciated as a means oflearning "something new about another country (an exotic country), about the landscape, fashions, family relationships, and the film world of this country in general" (rs. 6). They were an opportunity "to see the historical monuments of this country" (rs. 7). Referring to Raj Kapoor's first ftlms in the Soviet Union, one respondent wrote that the ftlms appealed because they gave one a glimpse of "an aspect of India's reality" (rs. 16). Yet another respondent wrote that these first films were, at the time, the only opportunity to learn about Indian culture, nature, and its places of historical interest (rs. 17). Respondent 23 found everything attractive in Indian films,
64
including "life in this unfamiliar country." Respondent 33, one of the few to dwell on the 'problems' raised in early Indian films, recalled noting with interest the perceived commonalities between Indian society and post-war Soviet Union: "The problems raised in Indian films, especially 'The Vagabond' and 'Mother India,' were similar to problems of Russian people. Post-war Russia had heavy burdens such as hunger, orphaned children, and poverty. That is why themes that were touched upon in Indian films were comprehensible for Russian viewers." Respondents found the special feature of these fIlms to be their 'national form' and their portrayal of Indian 'reality', culture and people. Soviet audiences generally enjoyed melodramas, but the Indian melodrama's appeal was enhanced by its portrayal of a distinctive Indian ethos and aesthetic. For other respondents, these films were a source of relaxation and diversion. The melodramas were remembered as "a feast for the soul" (rs. 31). The happy end lifted the audience's spirits (rs. 15) and helped viewers "forget about everything" (rs. 26).
Significance of Indian rums
I asked respondents to write about the significance Indian fIlms had for them personally (question 12). The question, by virtue of its breadth, naturally evoked a spectrum of answers. Some respondents articulated the needs Indian melodramas met, while others attributed the films' significance to their generic characteristics. Respondents' answers fell into three categories in their description of the significance of Indian films: learning, diversion and imitation or emulation. In this respect, the question of the 'significance' of Indian films elicited responses similar to those generated by the question on the appeal of these films.
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Significance: Diversion
For ten respondents Indian melodramas were significant because they offered seemingly non-political storylines with elements of fantasy and functioned as a wonderful diversion. 53 Respondent 12 remembered that he/she could enjoy these fIlms "with the family:" "The fIlms' were 'clean.' The melody of the songs, the uncomplicated plo~ ... these fIlms thrilled us and continue to live in our hearts." Respondent 9 shared this view of Indian f11ms: "These fIlms were sentimental ... they were not politicized. We relaxed while watching these fIlms." For two of these respondents, Indian f11ms were signifIcant because they were informative, as well as pleasurable and fantasy-ruled. 54 According to respondent 21, these fIlms "combined the pleasant (the watching of the fIlm) with the useful (knowledge about a country)." Respondent 33 confumed the importance of such fIlms for allowing viewers diversional enjoyment: "Although the rums portray difficult life histories, there is always room for beautiful fantasy and dreams. That is why Indian fIlms leave one feeling wonderful and can never be forgotten for the rest of one's life" (rs. 33). Indian fIlms' signifIcance stemmed from their ability to meet emotional needs because they accommodated viewers' desire for diversion and fantasy.
Significance: Learning
For other respondents, the signifIcance of Indian cinema of that period was that it provided insights into a different world. For instance, Indian fIlms were said to introduce viewers to "high culture ... Gandhi and Nehru" (rs. 16). Other responses indicated that viewers 'learnt' from Indian fIlms or found the viewing of an Indian fIlm to be 53 rs. 5, 7, 9,11,12, 21,26,28,32,33. 54 rs. 21, 33.
66
instructive. 55 Viewers contended that these films taught them about the lives of Indians and Indian culture and enhanced their knowledge of India's history.
56
Significance: Emulation
Viewers also remembered appreciating the positive role models or values portrayed in the films and coveting what they saw on the screen. One respondent remembered wanting to resemble the female lead stars in Indian films and seeking "a good, strong, faithful husband," in character similar to the heroes of these fIlms (rs. 15). Respondents found the films to be edifying, teaching them to "respect elders" (rs. 15) and helping them "improve one's relationship with people" (rs. 5). Respondent 31 was particularly eloquent on the subject: "Going to an Indian film was the event of our lives. We were raised on Indian melodramas and their touching stories formed our characters. We worshipped Raj Kapoor, whom we consider the national hero of Russia and India ... The films penetrated my soul and I became a gentler and kinder person." (rs. 31). The 'moral values' and the aesthetic ideals reinforced by Indian films found resonance with the Soviet audience. Viewers perceived these films to have exercised a beneficial effect and, in some cases, to have inspired emulation.
Favorite memories of Indian films
Respondents were asked to write in detail about a favorite memory of a scene or an incident associated with the films of the fifties and sixties (question 9). In a significant overlap with their reasons for the 'appeal' and 'significance' of Indian films, respondents cited 'theme and genre' and 'diversion' as favorite memories. Additionally, their favorite 55 rs. 6,25,33. 56 rs. 6, 16, 18,21,25,33.
67 memories indicated the extra-cinematic activities these viewers engaged in as an expression of their interest in Indian films. Again, as retrospective accounts, it is possible that some of their observations were also based on their reception of later Indian films.
Favorite memory: Theme and genre Just as in response to questions 5 and 7, most viewers cited generic elements while describing their favorite memory of the Indian films of the fifties and sixties. In fact, more than half of the respondents did so. Of these, 8 respondents remembered the music and the singing in the filin 'The Vagabond' and cited this as their most vivid or favorite memory of the films of the fifties and sixties. 57 For instance, one person remembered fondly the songs and the actors' performances in the film (rs. 6). Respondent 16 recalled the popularity of the songs in the film 'The Vagabond:' "The songs of this film were hits - we sang them everywhere." Respondent 12 remembered "everyone" singing 'brodiaga-ia,' the title song of the film. One viewer cited the songs and the story of the film as a favorite memory, claiming to be able to narrate the plot even today (rs. 23). For nine other respondents, favorite stars Raj Kapoor and/or Nargis were their favorite recollection of these films;58 for instance, Raj Kapoor was remembered as "engrossing" and "inimitable" (rs. 6, 16). Two respondents recalled specific scenes that moved them. These were scenes in 'The Vagabond' that summed up the moral of the film (rs. 1, rs. 33), and scenes in subsequent Indian popular films that were steeped in symbolism and pathos (rs. 33).
Favorite memory: Diversion 57 rs. 1,2,3.6, 12, 16, 18,23. 58 rs. 1,2,3,6,9,13,16.19,26.
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Many viewers had attributed the appeal and significance of these fllms to their ability to provide emotional comfort and diversion to the audience. Respondents' favorite memories of Indian melodramas also highlighted these films' lachrymose quality and the emotional reception that feature induced. Statements such as "I cried throughout the film," ''usually all the women cried" and "we all cried" peppered their favorite recollections of the fifties and sixties films. 59 Another respondent remembered that the fllms generated a great deal of happiness and warmth and felt very "familiar" to Soviet
spectators (rs. 5). Indian melodramas' sentimentality, enhanced by the predictability of their story lines, made these films memorable for viewers. This is illustrated in the observations of respondent 30: "When the lights went out in the hall, we were transported to a world of fairytales. It was very naive, but this is what one wanted. You could leave reality behind. Sometimes one wanted such cinema - cinema that did not burden you with problems." Indian fIlms are remembered fondly because they allowed spectators to enjoy a brief rupture with reality as they knew it. Viewers cited, as a favorite recollection of Indian melodramas, these fIlms' melodramatic juxtaposition of good and evil and the inevitable triumph of the virtuous. Describing as a favorite memory the portrayal of the inevitability of justice in Indian fIlms, respondent 31 wrote: "These were very sincere portrayals and we were young and naive." In retrospect, either the fIlms seemed naive or respondents considered themselves to
have been gullible in their reception of these fIlms.
59 rs. 28,29,31.
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Favorite memory: Extra-cinematic activities Respondents pursued their interest in Indian films by engaging in related activities outside the theater context. This extra-cinematic dimension of film reception is an area that has drawn little attention in audience studies. Two respondents remembered the discussions around the films, when describing their favorite memory of Indian movies. 60 A fond recollection was of watching these films in a club and discussing them after the show. Classmates then cut photographs of Indian stars from the posters and sent them to each other (rs. 15). Respondent 16 remembered singing film songs, discussing films, and talking about the heroes with others. Thus, respondents' memories indicated
the extension of the movie going experience into a space outside the movie theater. These answers once again revealed that much of the pleasure of viewing a film lay in the fact that it was a shared activity.
Expressions of interest
Additional questions (questions 10 and 11) specifically sought to glean information on viewers' extra-cinematic forms of reception, such as writing to magazines and newspapers about Indian films. None of the respondents had written to newspapers or magazines about Indian films. 6J However, they did demonstrate their interest in Indian films in other ways.
Question 10 asked respondents in what ways they expressed their interest in Indian films, giving them multiple choices for their answer. The most common answer selected by respondents was that they watched favorite ftlms several times,62 as illustrated 60 rs. 15,16. 61 As indicated earlier, Chapter 4 deals with fan mail and the public participation of Indian films' admirers in the Soviet Union. 62 rs. 5, 8, 10, 12, 14, 15, 17,20,23,27,28,31,32,33.
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in the following comments: "When the films of the fifties and sixties were repeated on television, 1 watched them again" (rs. 17). "I memorized some films completely" (rs. 12). "I watched The Vagabond five times" (rs. 28). Newspapers, journals such as Ogoniok, and film journals from the late fifties onwards published articles and photographs of Indian and other film stars. Ten respondents remembered collecting newspaper articles and/or photographs of film starsY Others "listened to the music of the films" (rs. 25), "met with Indian actors" (rs. 19) and tried to imitate stars by singing, dancing and wearing flowers in their hair (rs. 27). Extracinematic identificatory practices such as performing film songs, keeping scrapbooks and emulating stars are just as much a part of audience reception as the viewing and interpretation of a film text.
A sustained interest The questionnaire was meant for those viewers who watched Indian films in the fifties and/or sixties, when Indian films had their first decade of distribution in the Soviet Union. I was interested in knowing how many respondents continued to watch Indian films after the first wave ofIndian melodramas. Five respondents did not watch Indian films after the sixties,64 and 4 watched Indian films until the seventies, but not beyond. 65 Two respondents watched Indian films until the eighties. 66 Two other respondents relished Indian films until the nineties, but they do not watch these films currently. 67 Three viewers watched films until the eighties, and have recently experienced a renewed 63 rs. 1. 7.9.14,15, 26,30,31,32,33. 64 rs. 2. 3, 4. 5, 9. 65 rs. 7. 8, 11, 23. 66 rs. 13,31. 671's.15,25.
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interest in watching Indian popular cinema. 68 Seventeen respondents still watch Indian films, although some of them observe with regret that few Indian films are shown currently on television. 69 Thus, most of those surveyed continued to find Indian films enjoyable wen beyond the sixties and a majority presently watch them. Their sustained interest is also evident in their ability to name fIlms and film stars of the decades following the sixties. An respondents were able to name at least 5 film stars and films they found noteworthy. I was interested to know which fIlms viewers remembered best, since the tendency in everyday conversations is to single out 'The Vagabond.' For respondents, 'The Vagabond' was among the frrst films they watched, but they also listed Indian melodramas that they watched subsequently. The fIlms other than 'The Vagabond' that never failed to get mentioned and have obviously remained most memorable for Soviet viewers are the following: 'Storms' (AandhiyanlUragan), 'Mr. 420 (Shree 420/ Gospodin 420), 'Two leaves and a Bud' (Rahi/Ganga)' and 'Mother India' (Mother IndiaIMat' Indii). Respondents also recalled films such as 'Flower in the Dust' (Dhool ka PhoollTsvetok v Pyli), 'Sujata' (Sujatal Sujata), 'Confluence' (Sangam/ Sangam), 'Sita
and Gita' (Sita aur Gita/Sita I GUa), 'Bobby' (BobbylBobby), 'Embers' (Sholay/Mest'I Zakon), 'Dance Dance' (Dance DancelTantsui Tantsui) and 'Disco Dancer' (Disco Dancer/ Tantsor Disko). 70 Most respondents cited Raj Kapoor and Nargis, and some
specifically mentioned their "beautiful performances" (rs. 16, 18). Others remembered the "handsome actor" in Disco Dancer for his "grace" (rs. 6, 8), and stars like Hema Malini and Rekha, Amitabh Bachchan and Dharmendra, who performed after the sixties. 68 rs. 23, 30, 33. 69 rs. 1,6,10,12,14,16,17,18,19,20,21,22,26,27,28,29,32. 70 The original title of the film (in Hindi or any other Indian language) is placed in parentheses followed by the Russian title.
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Respondents, therefore, demonstrated an interest in Indian films beyond the decades addressed by the questionnaire.
Cinema was a predominant favorite as a form of entertainment and a social activity in the fifties and sixties. It met the need for diversion and assuaged moviegoers' curiosity about other parts of the world. The presence of Indian films enhanced the pleasures of going to the movies for these respondents in a number of ways. These films were remembered for their distinctive formal traits, their aesthetic, their stars, the 'appropriate' values they foregrounded, and the 'information' they provided about India to rapt moviegoers. As we shall observe in the following section, these reasons for enjoying Indian melodramas continued to be the refrain in the narratives of viewers interviewed for this project.
SECTION II:
REMEMBERING INDIAN FILMS: VIEWERS' NARRATIVES
As part of the quest to understand why Indian popular films appealed to many in the Soviet audience, I conducted interviews with 53 participants who appreciated and enjoyed these films in post-Stalinist Soviet society. The sampling strategy was 'purposive;' I sought participants who watched Indian films with interest, either consistently or sporadically, between the fifties and the end of t.l}e Soviet period. It was also crucial for my research agenda that participants exhibited varying degrees of involvement with Indian cinema. Therefore, some interviewees were inspired by Indian films to study India or Indian culture, while the interest of others was confined to the films themselves. Some participants watched Indian films exclusively; yet
73 others also enjoyed domestic and other foreign cinemas. I was particularly keen on unraveling the reasons for Indian films' popularity, but the interview also provided space for expressions of disillusionment and diminished interest in Indian films. All 53 interviews were conducted in Moscow proper and the suburbs of the city. The interview sample exhibits variation in age, gender, nationality and profession. I specifically solicited participants who represented different movie going generations. Therefore, many interviewees were those who were exposed to Indian films when first screened in the Soviet Union. Younger moviegoers, who watched Indian films in the seventies and eighties, also qualified for the research. A handful of participants began viewing Indian films in the late eighties, in their teenage years. Five interviewees were born in the 1920s, 9 in the 1930s, 20 in the 1940s, 4 in the 1950s, 9 in the 1960s and 4 in the 1970s. Participants were between the ages of 18 and 92. Considering that melodramas the world over are generally (disparagingly) associated with a female viewership, I was eager to engage a substantial number of male viewers on the subject of Indian films. Eighteen male and 35 female interviewees made up the sample. I was also determined to have a sample that included Russian and nonRussian interviewees, given some observers' contention that Central Asians were Indian melodramas' most loyal audience owing to the cultural affinity. I interviewed 38 Russians and 15 non-Russians. Although the tendency of contacts was to seek out participants who were ftlm specialists and 'knew' Indian cinema, I sought as much professional or vocational diversity as possible. The sample included film professionals, teachers, engineers, nurses and non-professionals. 71 All the interviewees are currently Muscovites, but their memories suggest that they viewed Indian films in both the capital and other cities of the fonner Soviet Union ".
71 See Appendix v, Table V. I for the respondent/interviewee profile table.
74 where they lived prior to moving to Moscow. For instance, interviewees remembered watching Indian films in Magnitogorsk when it was still emerging as a township, and in theaters as far east as Iakutsk. Their narratives together cover the gamut of the Indian cinema experience in the Soviet Union. The interviews were semi-structured; the questions posed were similar to those in the questionnaire, but were also guided by what interviewees wished to dwell upon in their narratives. The duration of each interview was between 1.5 and 3 hours. Interviewees were allowed opportunity to challenge questions relating to the popularity or significance of Indian melodramas. Because the format of the interview allowed for more explanation, interviewees narrated what aspects of the films they found appealing and attempted to articulate the reasons for their avid reception of these films. They elaborated on both the films as texts and the context of their reception. The questions that elicited the answers described below were myriad. Why had Indian films been attractive to the viewer? In which decades did he/she watch Indian fUms? With whom did he/she go to an Indian film show? Did these films have any significance for the viewer? Did the viewer engage in other film-related activities that were an extension of this interest in Indian fUms? In most interviews participants made spontaneous comparisons with domestic and other foreign films. If they did not do so, I addressed the issue in a question. Which other movies, foreign or/and domestic, did this viewer frequent and enjoy? These questions generated substantial answers and exhibited general patterns in the ways that Indian films are remembered, and the associations they have come to acquire over the years in participants' memories. For the purposes of this project, I have broken their narratives down into the general themes that emerged in their accounts.
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At this stage, it is relevant to reiterate the theoretical underpinnings of the following analysis. Firstly, as articulated in the Introduction, the meaning of a fUm text is not inherent in the text alone, but is co-produced by viewers acting in a certain sociohistorical context. This becomes evident as we consider the reasons viewers offered for enjoying Indian popular films in the past. In their interview narratives, Indian film admirers continuously made comparisons between the foreign cinemas available to them at the time of reception, described the general mood of Soviet society and/or highlighted a specific feature of post-Stalinist Soviet society that made the viewing of Indian fUms a 'necessary' pleasure. 72 In the words of John Fiske, viewers engaged in 'semiotic productivity,' as they related aspects of the films' narratives to their own reality.73 Secondly, the viewing context renders different aspects of a particular fUm text enjoyable. In the discussion of the 'emotional pleasures' of the viewing experience, this analysis uses the theoretical models of 'escape' and 'identification' discussed in the Introduction. 74 Viewers spontaneously referred to the cathartic experience of watching these films. They also commented on cultural convergences that allowed viewers to 'relate to' or understand certain aspects of these films' narratives. In fact, it was viewers' recognition of many features of the world of the Indian films that facilitated escape; escape and identification were linked as motives for viewing these fUms. Whether in the act of escaping to the world of Indian films or in the recognition of certain social and cultural features of that world as shared, these melodramas created a place for India in viewers' social imagination. Viewers' recollections reveal that the exposure to Indian films inspired many to engage with the world that produced this cinema and offered 72 This seldom happened in the responses in the questionnaire because of the natural limitations of this methodology. 73 John Fiske, "The Cultural Economy ofFandom," 37-39. 74 In this, I found Jackie Stacey's analysis of her respondents' letters most useful. She uses the categories of 'escape' and 'identification' to analyze their responses.
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viewers a comparative perspective on their own reality.
a. Why they enjoyed Indian rums ...
Escape Film scholars have defined escape as a kind of utopianism or a quest for something that seems better and/or different from that which the spectator experiences in his or her life and immediate environment. 7S The analysis of interviewees' narratives in this section uses this definition of escape and draws on Richard Dyer's model, which emphasizes the connection between the pleasures of entertaining cinema and the historical and cultural context of spectatorship. A consideration of what the viewer is escaping to must be accompanied by an acknowledgement of the context, from which he/she is escaping. 76 I also apply to the discussion of viewers' memories the concept of the 'hope-landscape,' which indicates the capacity of entertaining cinema to generate faith in utopian solutions. 77 Viewers read Indian fIlms and the experience of watching these ftlms in several ways, of which three indicated the motive of escape: indulging in fantasy or experiencing oblivion, having respite from other ftlms, and learning about a world different from their own. In all three cases, Indian ftlms' 'otherworldliness' determined their appeal. 78 75 Jackie Stacey, Star Gazing, 136. 76 Stacey, 92-93 77 Jane M. Gaines, "Dream/Factory," in Reinventing Film Studies, ed. Christine Gledhill and Linda Williams (London: Arnold Publishers, 2000),107-110. 78 Naum Kleiman referred to Soviet audiences' love for Indian melodramas as a form of "emotional protest" that helped them "transgress the limits of their reality into a space beyond." He added that these films gave Soviet moviegoers the opportunity to weep and unburden themselves, and allowed them to enter a 'skazkaesque' world (skozochnyi mir). He contrasted these films to Soviet cinema, which was required to be as true to real life as possible. Kleiman and other scholars in Russia also confirmed that Indian films were admired by Soviet moviegoers owing to their 'exotic quality' and the opportunity they offered for cinematic tourism. Naurn Kleiman, interview by author, tape-recording, Moscow, October 2002; Aleksandr Lipkov, interview by author, tape-recording, Moscow, September 2002; Maia Turovskaia, conversation with author, Moscow, October 2002.
77 Interviewees often described contextual factors that made the world of Indian melodramas attractive to many in the Soviet audience.
Escape: Fantasy and oblivion
In their retrospective accounts, viewers invariably compared Indian melodramas to skazkas or 'fairy-tales.' This 'skazkaesque' quality of Indian popular films facilitated transcendence or oblivion in the audience's viewing experience. Interviewees, just as the questionnaire respondents had done, used phrases such as 'entering another world' and 'forgetting oneself to indicate the cathartic experience of viewing Indian films. The world of the Indian melodrama was one where personal and romantic relationships were idyllic and social conflict found utopian solutions. The aesthetic of the films, the happy end, the films' 'sentimentality' and their pronounced emotional accent rendered them cathartic and healing for some, and relaxing and energizing for others. Many interviewees said: "I simply wanted to see Indian films ... that is all. 1 felt good after the show." The viewing contexts in which the skazkaesque nature of Indian films acquired significance for viewers were diverse. The first Indian melodramas in 1954 and the initial years were nostalgically remembered for providing this space for complete relaxation. War and Stalinist oppression had bequeathed traumatic legaCies to Soviet society. For the earliest postStalinist auditorium for Indian films, these melodramas were particularly comforting and refreshing. Albert Gudin, in his late teens when the first Indian films were screened in Soviet theaters, attributed his happy memories of 'The Vagabond' partly to the context in which he saw the film:
We walked out of 'The Vagabond' thinking how hard his (the hero's) life was, but how happy he was in spite of it. We lived in hard times; we did not know how
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be happy ... Besides, we have long winters ... we are surrounded by snow, and you have the wannth of the summer all the time. The film was a breath of fresh air.
to
Clearly, for Gudin, the film was memorable for its optimistic ethos. That the character was unemployed and a victim of unfortunate social circumstances was unfortunate, but his cheerful and trusting disposition was refreshing in those years. Evgenii Beletskii also remembered these first films fondly for allowing audiences to relish the "love, the music in the films, the courtship of women, the songs" at a time when people had suffered a "huge tragedy" and many had been "killed or crippled in the war." He described the audience's reception of these first films as spontaneous and enthusiastic: 'We simply fell in love with these films." Tatiana Egoreva shared Beletskii's view and recalled that cinema in the fifties provided emotional comfort in the post-war years: Much of the country was destroyed by war ... and Indian films were an escape from harsh reality. These films ... were like another life, so beautiful with such lovely people and engrossing stories. Indian films provided these early audiences with respite from daily routine or a depressing reality; they performed a compensatory function for moviegoers living in difficult times. According to Gennadii Pechnikov, Indian melodramas were instantaneously popular because "spiritual food" was of greater importance than ''bread,'' at a time when people did not live prosperously in the aftermath of the war. He explained that moviegoers living in hardship emerged from Indian film shows, "stunned by the goodness and wisdom of the films, all interwoven with the aesthetically beautiful." Anna Iakusheva attributed her fascination with the first Indian films to their generally upbeat tone that was refreshing for the fifties audience. The plot in the Indian melodrama appealed to her and she sympathized with the protagonists, whose trials were unfailingly resolved happily.
79 Like the others, she recalled that the simple resolutions and inevitable happy end were an immensely attractive alternative to tragic cinema in the difficult post-war years. In the real world, such simple resolutions were not the norm and Indian films allowed viewers to relish the idea of utopian finales for a few hours. Valentina Viazavetskaia also suggested that Indian popular fIlms reassured a Soviet audience exhausted by the war and trials of the post-war period. She recalled that the audience responded warmly to the music, to the espousal of abstract values such as 'goodness,' and to the happy end. Guntis Krinte remembered that Indian films encouraged hope in the resolution of problems and his observations demonstrate the significance of the cathartic function of Indian films. He explained that "in the post-war years ... the people were quite poor, and the mood corresponded. Yet, at an Indian film show, one cried and laughed, and everything fell into place." The utopian, 'feel-good' tone of Indian melodramas and the generic elements of these films had an enhanced appeal in the somber and difficult post-war years. Most telling in this regard were the recollections of Anna Martysheva who said she sat at a Soviet fIlm show in "tense anticipation," but relaxed while watching "gentle," "happy" Indian films. The quality of resembling a dream or a fantasy 'far removed from reality' rendered these films appealing to many interviewees and distinguished them from other cinemas in the repertoire. Such recollections of Indian films revealed the inextricable link between film text and viewing context; to what were viewers escaping and from what did they seek escape? Memories of Indian films in the sixties and beyond continued to highlight the space for relaxation and 'unreflective' reception that Indian cinema offered. For many, the recollection of their reception of these films was shaped by their retrospective assessment of both the films and their reception at the time. Therefore, with the benefit of
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hindsight, interviewees now thought Indian melodramas to be 'simplistic' and remembered the 'naivete' of their own reception of these skazkaesque films. Valentina Viazavetskaia recalled:
The music, the beautiful actors, the story line, the situations created ... resembled a fairytale. I watched it as though it were a real representation of India. Now I know that life is not like that in India. Yet, then I saw it as a beautiful life; one that I loved. How much we cried. Some viewers considered it naive cinema, but its appeal resided in its ability to allow spectators to pretend that all was well or on the verge of being resolved. Liubov' Volodina remembered that life in the sixties was difficult and that Indian films diverted spectators from the unpleasant. She said, "The music, dance, the romance took our minds off problems, which troubled us then and continue to trouble us today." Igor Belotserkovskii observed that the experience of transcendence or oblivion that Indian films offered their viewers continued to be their main draw today. As he articulated:
Indian films ... you watch them and you are isolated from everything around you, you forgot about everything ... They distract from the 'gray everyday' of life; a person is in oblivion and forgets about his misfortunes, problems. Indian films allowed these viewers diversion from their existential anxieties. Emma Malaia, a costume specialist who thanks Indian films for her choice of profession, stated that she watches these films with enthusiasm to this day. She claimed to "worship Indian films" because they were "a balm for the heart." Such pronouncements indicate the emotional comfort that many moviegoers drew from watching Indian popular cinema. Indian films were remembered for their 'healing function;' they provided comfort against personal pain. Gavhar Dzhuraeva, who has since the early nineties suffered from the shock of seeing the Tadjik civil war destroy her homeland, went through a depression for
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years. She has watched Indian films since the sixties, but these melodramas have acquired the function of a lifeline in a time of personal crisis wrought by the civil war. She explained:
I could not watch any films after the war. I bought all the Indian films I could, both good and bad fIlms. I do not remember any other cinema that touched me in this way. Indian films are a part of my life; they were my salvation in this period. Gul'nara Kruglova, a faithful viewer since the 1970s, recalled that Indian films' generic features and 'festive' ethos helped create 'hope-landscapes.' The festive accoutrements in the films were a relief in the perceived 'grayness' of Kruglova' s reality. She said:
Indian films were a festival. It was possible to break away from the mundane and watch something entirely unlike here. It was a sort of fairy-tale and dream in composition. In our reality, everything was so grounded. The association of these films with festivals reiterates the perception of this cinema as out-of-the-ordinary and, therefore, diverting and relaxing. Viewers suggested that Indian popular films' capacity to chum out "naive" and unambiguous moral truths would render them appropriate cinematic fare today, in a time of uncertainty and aggression. Gudin had grown weary of the repetitive story lines of Indian melodramas. Yet, he believed that these films' hope-landscapes made them welcome again in the present period of "capitalist misfortunes." Indian films' "humane" quality and "lack of violence" has made these fIlms acquire new relevance today for many other interviewees. Irina Arkhipova has ceased to watch Russian fIlms in the present because they "glorify violence." For her, Indian fIlms have always been a pleasing alternative to western and domestic fIlms. She recalled that ''people shied away from life's truths and liked to watch Indian fIlms, where the soul relaxed." Her admiration
82 for Indian films has only increased in the recent years ''when the world has grown weary of violence." Others suggested also that Indian melodramas' compensatory function would receive even greater appreciation today. Vera Fedorchenko has been a steadfast admirer of Indian fIlms since the fIfties. She rued the "commercialization" of Indian melodramas in the seventies and eighties, but appreciated their portrayal of a people capable of selfridicule, "goodness" and wisdom. For her, these fllms' skazkaesque quality continues to be their main appeal in the changed post-Soviet context. As she explained:
In this ruthless, commercial, technological era, this skazka is essential for people. When you turn the television on today and there is an Indian fIlm, you unconsciously begin to watch it ... it gives you emotional balance, peace. This is a very valuable characteristic in Indian fIlms. Indian melodramas' ability to divert and provide emotional comfort also meant that many viewers associated these fIlms with 'emotionalism,' and European or domestic realist fllms with rational thought. For Elena AfImova, Indian fIlms did not require the audience to contemplate or read between their lines. Describing the fIlms' distinctive quality in the flhn repertoire, she stated that at an Indian ffim she felt "suffused with happiness" and experienced ''pure joy" that "enveloped her completely." She explained that other cinemas did not inspire such a viewing experience. Younger generation viewers also highlighted the predominance of emotion over 'rational thought' in their reception of Indian fIlms. Elena Sinishina, for whom 'Disco Dancer' (1981) remains the all-time Indian classic, clarifIed that she watched Indian fIlms "with the heart, and not the mind." In fact, Indian melodramas' 'sentimentality' and emotionalism caused some viewers to conceive of this cinema as the feminine preserve. Some of the male interviewees, for instance Valentin Zagrebel'ny, Albert Gudin, and
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Nikolai Bobrikov, made similar associations between the ethos of Indian melodramas and female viewers. Gudin recalled that while he went with male colleagues to European fIlms, he preferred female companionship during an Indian fIlm show. He explained:
Indian cinema was for the soul; it was a diversion, pure joy, and it radiated warmth. When I was young, Indian cinema was where you took young girls. Then we both emerged happy and contented. Having witnessed beautiful relationships, we both wanted the same. We came out arm in arm. ... only Indian fIlms did that for us. The Indian melodrama, privileging as it did the personal and the sentimental and offering a utopian denouement in its flnale, provided emotional comfort. This perceived 'diversional' and 'skazkaesque' function of Indian fIlms was attractive in the viewing context of the fIfties and later, and has now acquired a renewed signifIcance for some viewers. Disillusionment with the disarray of the post-Soviet period has enhanced the appeal of Indian fIlms and their projection of a neatly dualistic universe.
Escape: A world ofdifference 'Escape' at an Indian f11m show took the form of 'transcendence' or 'selfforgetfulness,' but it was also manifested in spectators' pleasure in viewing the different material and cultural reality of India, at a time when travel abroad was the privilege of the few. Respondents who completed the questionnaires on Indian ftlms' appeal had observed that they were drawn to Indian ftlms for the glimpse they offered into a culture different from their own and from that portrayed in European and American fIlms. Many interviewees also articulated this attraction for the different world of Indian fIlms as a learning or instructive experience. They spoke of Indian fIlms as being compendia of information, representing a world very unfamiliar to the Soviet movie audience. The real
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differences between India and the Soviet Union accentuated the 'exotic' attraction of Indian melodramas and the opportunity they offered for 'escape.,79 The first Indian mms in the fifties captured the attention of Soviet moviegoers at a time when Indo-Soviet relations were exceptionally friendly and led to a surge of interest in Indian culture and philosophy. Valentin Zagrebel'ny remembered his delight at hearing the Indian classical musical score in an early Indian film and discovering its difference from the European musical tradition. He recalled the first films distinctly because they were different from any cinema he had watched until then and came from a 'world' unlike any he had known. Zagrebel'ny was deeply impressed by these mms of the fifties and chose, therefore, to specialize in Indology. For Gennadii Kurbatov, the first films remained most memorable because they were a penetrating glimpse into a culture he had known little about until then. Inspired by the f1l.ms and encouraged by the postStalinist atmosphere of relative freedom, Kurbatov initiated a correspondence with a pen pal in India soon after the festival in 1954. Vera Fedorchenko also recalled that the novelty of Indian melodramas in the fifties fascinated her because the lives and realities they portrayed were unusual and, therefore, attractive. They differed from the world of American and European trophy films to which she had hitherto been exposed. Fedorchenko articulated this point in the following words:
Despite the iron curtain, as they caned it, we used cinema to throw the doors open ... and cinema (trophy mms) had taught us get to know cultures of these countries ... aU distinctive European cultures. Then suddenly, an entirely new area opened up to us, an area about which we knew little. That was India. These films impressed us enonnously because of the unusual beauty of the people, of 79 Research conducted into romance reading has suggested that many readers of romance novels stated they read these books for instruction as well as relaxation, expecting the first reason to validate their interest in this genre. Aware of the view that romance reading is "frothy, purposeless entertainment." many readers explain the appeal of romance novels as providing a chance to learn historical facts about the settings in which the stories are based Radway, Reading the Romance. 107-108.
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the landscape, clothes. All this was uncharacteristic for Europeans; we could not see it on our streets. It was a completely different world view and an entirely different culture that attracted us greatly. The significance of the viewing context in which audiences were exposed to these fIrst Indian fIlms was emphasized by other viewers also. In a period when the most prevalent movies were old trophy fIlms that showed pre-war Germany and America, fIlms from India brought a new and radically different world to Soviet moviegoers. Elena Mel'ko, part of the fIrst generation of Indian fIlm admirers, recalled that Indian fIlms greatly enhanced the new atmosphere of openness and widened Soviet horizons in the immediate aftermath of Stalin's death. Thus, in viewers' recollections these fIlms and the world they represented presaged the Thaw in providing post-Stalinist movie audiences impulse to embark on new intellectual quests or to experience other social realities through cinema. Lilia Tol'chinskaia was captivated by Indian melodramas because they were "unique" and different from Russian, Italian and French fIlms. She attributed Indian fIlms' distinctive quality to their portrayals of "Indian life ... traditions ... relationships," with which she was unfamiliar at the time of reception. These interviewees described the viewing of Indian fIlms as a novel learning experience because these fIlms informed the audience about the social and cultural fabric of India. Many viewers of the generation that fIrst watched Indian fIlms in the fIfties and sixties continue to be attracted to Indian fIlms for their 'exotic' music and dance, suggesting again that the world these fIlms represented attracted this audience. In their narratives, viewers described Indian fIlms in ethnographic detail. The plot was not remembered as paramount to the fIlms' appeal; instead, viewers remembered those features of the staged narrative that gave them a glimpse of 'Indian culture' and way of life.
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For Elena Semenova, Indian films had been attractive because they were so different from her own ''uninteresting'' reality. Liubov' Fedorenko associated Indian films, not with their narrative, but with their attractive and ''unusual'' "displays of rituals,
wedding processions [and] unusual ornamentation." Anna Martysheva also attributed the magic of the fUms of the fifties to the glimpse they offered of an entirely unfamiliar society. At the time she knew little about India's "diverse nationalities, subgroups, social relationships;" she remembered the enjoyment of watching films that brought that distant world closer. In viewers' recollections, that remote world was skazkaesque and inspired many moviegoers to experience it at close quarters. Igor Belotserkovskii explained that the plot and the use of music and dance to convey emotions were aspects of Indian melodramas that persuaded him and his friends to think of India as a fantasy world:
We thought of India as beautiful, its clear blue skies ... India seemed to me to be a fantasy world. My friends and I decided to travel to India. Of course, we had no money. .. we were just children. What we did bordered on the hilarious, the absurd ... we wanted to frod a boat or build one to sail to India. We surreptitiously set off to fell wood, but were caught and punished. Nevertheless, we tried ... such was the influence of these films. Then we tried to construct a raft, but someone saw us trying to sail to India (laughs) and pulled us out of the water. Belotserkovskii's childhood memories strikingly demonstrate the impact the fUms had on the f!fst generation of viewers. Iurii Korchagov, who was inspired by the first Indian film festival to study Hindi in the fifties, also recalls that the first fUms affected him deeply during his school years in Kerch' (the Crimea). He had grown up in "a thickly forested area," "had never seen palm trees, the oceans, such people," had "never heard such music," and was therefore "greatly impressed" by Indian films. After the Stalinist years of limited cultural contact with other countries, the f!fst Indian film festival was a novel event that expanded the social landscape of Soviet
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viewers. However, even after foreign films became commonplace and a degree of contact with the outside world was accommodated, Indian films continued to be valued for being a showcase of 'exotic' Indian culture. In viewers' memories, the aesthetic and the cultural differences of the world of Indian melodramas enhanced these films' appeal. The novel Indian dances in the film 'Bobby' inspired Elena Seliverstova to become a loyal admirer of Indian films in the seventies. She recalled that the dances in the film 'Bobby' impressed her in their distinctiveness from this European tradition. Such was her fascination with Indian film dance that Seliverstova went on to learn Indian classical dance in India. Indian melodramas attracted Dmitrii Zmeev, who has been watching Indian films since the seventies, because they were his singular exposure to the distinctive culture and society of India. He owed his choice of profession (Indian classical dance) to his love for these films and their intriguing cultural elements. He recalled:
I was attracted to these films ... you see, we lived in a closed society. Of course, then I was a child and I did not understand that. I was attracted to these bright colors in Indian films. Here people walk around in white and black clothes basic colors. Our clothes are not vibrant. Moreover, we have our winters ... everything is white because of the snow. Indian films attracted me because of the landscapes, the costumes, the incomparably beautiful sari, the dot on the forehead
In fact, Zmeev explained that the plot was not as important to him as the aesthetic appeal of the films. GuI'nara Kruglova enjoyed Indian melodramas because their 'cultural' elements made them "interesting," "different," "unique," and "originaL" Owing to the fact that Soviet clothing "lacked variation," Kruglova was particularly drawn to the vivid and diverse wardrobes of stars in Indian movies. The aesthetic of the world of Indian films also impressed Aleksandra Alimova, who was an avid viewer ofIndian films in the seventies and eighties. In her words:
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Everything is so beautiful. I love the music and the costumes. When you watch, the soul relaxes. I love the artistes. I do not know . .. I just like everything. The music is beautifully composed. When many people dance together, it is just like a show, a festival. It is such a beautiful sight. When I watch, no one must disturb me, distract me or talk to me. Even though I have memorized most films, I need to observe every detail in the films. Many viewers dwelt on the colors and vibrancy of the world of Indian popular cinema, juxtaposing this against the drab 'greyness' of Soviet society. Katia Marginovskaia still considers the Indian film 'The Crumbling Sky' to be the most beautiful she has ever seen. She said:
I remember vividly the color of the heroine's sari ... an apple green sari. In our gray lives, we literally happened into a fantasy world because here (in Indian films) we saw unusually beautiful colors, those costumes. I was stunned - what beautiful people. ... I had never seen anything like this. Elena Sukhorukova recalled her attention for the minute detail in the films. She read the films as ethnographic texts and remembered taking notice of everything from the interiors
of homes and women's clothes and hairstyles to inter-personal relationships in the films. Another viewer of the seventies and eighties generation, Tatiana Kazarian, recounted her favorite scenes from Indian films of those decades. Her attention was also drawn to the material aspects of the lives on screen, such as the bridal fmery in elaborate wedding scenes. She explained that she relished the music and dance, and enjoyed observing the relationships between characters in the film; it was a "different" world and "always spectacular. " Because the films portrayed a reality unlike their own, audience members often read these melodramas for information about India. Just as it has been suggested about the reading of romance novels in another context, viewing Indian films in Soviet society "created the illusion of movement or change achieved through informal acquisition of
89 factual "knowledge. ,,80 In this sense, too, the films offered escape or compensation by providing viewers a means of simulated travel.
The admiration for the world of Indian melodramas included viewers' appreciation of the glamour of its stars. Not unlike other societies, there was such a thing as 'star gazing' in Soviet movie culture. The 'exotic' beauty of the stars accentuated the perceived otherworldliness of Indian films and their appeal for viewers who valued Indian films for their novelty. Stars who earned mention in the interviews, just as in the questionnaires, were Raj Kapoor, Nargis, Dharmendra, Hema Malini, Rekha, Amitabh Bachchan and Mithun Chakraborty. This fascination with the stars of Indian cinema began with the fanfare surrounding Raj Kapoor and Nargis in 1954. Gennadii Pechnikov remembered that he and his friend tried to catch a glimpse of their two new favorite stars, Raj and Nargis, and sneaked off with a portrait ofNargis that adorned a wall in the lobby at the time of the first Indian film festival. Such recollections of the great attraction of these stars were common. Vitalii Vikhornov remembered that in his hometown of Odessa, Nargis "drove men out of their minds." Remembering the novelty of these stars for a fifties movie audience, Emma Malaia explained:
I had never seen such unusually beautiful people with eyes that seem to look at you from a bygone age. An around us we saw images of female peasants and workers that resembled Soviet sculptures. And here, in Indian films, women were so feminine and graceful.
In a period when the most prominent images of women had been Mother Russia beckoning her 'sons' to defend the fatherland or the heroic Zoia, the legendary pilot made 80 Radway. Reading the Romance, 113.
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famous by the war, the female stars and characterizations in Indian films presented Soviet moviegoers glamorous female icons with different physical attributes. Sergei Serebriannyi, who considered that Indian films primarily exercised an "emotional" rather than "intellectual influence" on him, attributed the attraction of early Indian films to the charisma and beauty of Indian actors. He said that he and other members of the audience "had never seen such faces until then, neither in Soviet films nor in Western films," and their unusual quality rendered them "unforgettable." Sometimes, the beauty of the lead stars was the only reason some continued to watch Indian films in the later years; neither theme nor plot, but the simple visual pleasure of watching favorite stars drove many viewers to go to an Indian film show. Albert Gudin admitted sheepishly that he continues to watch all films with Hema Malini until today. He added: "She is so unusually beautiful. She is incomparable. Her eyes ... are incomparable. I watch films simply for her." Later day viewers ofIndian films also thought Indian melodramas to be a visual delight with uncommonly attractive protagonists. Elena Boikova, a fan of Mithun, loved Indian films because they always starred beautiful actors and "well-matched couples." Viktoriia Kim also admired Indian films because they cast glamorous and attractive stars. She explained: "Suddenly, one sees this unusually beautiful girl ... with such eyes, I cannot explain it. And then she plays a bashful woman ... that is so beautiful." Dmitrii Zmeev recalled with fondness all the films with the "unusually, absolutely beautiful" Hema Malini, whom "it is always a joy to look at." Katia Marginovskaia described the Indian star Rekha exultantly:
Rekha is astounding. Such women cannot possibly exist. Because of her, many men who preferred violent films began to watch Indian films. A goddess ... such an unworldly beauty.
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Marginovskaia's reference to Rekha as a goddess suggests that, for her (as for many in the Soviet audience), Indian film stars possessed a divine or otherworldly beauty. This mythical association only accentuated Indian melodramas' 'exotic' quality. For some viewers, Indian female stars had certain distinguishing qualities that they remembered nostalgically. In an illustration of viewers' approbation of the 'femininity' of stars and the characters they played in Indian films, Elena Sukhorukova said: "The women were genuinely feminine in these films - graceful and charming." She regretted that there are few Indian films on television today because she appreciated the female stars and the ideals they foregrounded in these fIlms. Melodramas, in general, draw audiences for their celluloid heroes; the star has always been the most important feature of this genre. For Soviet viewers, Indian melodrama stars made a deep impression because their 'exotic' beauty and their onscreen demeanor augmented the 'skazkaesque' nature of the world that these melodramas appeared to portray.
Escape: Respite from other cinemas Their 'otherworldliness,' their skazkaesque quality, their inevitable happy end and generally festive and exuberant ethos rendered Indian melodramas different from other cinemas in the Soviet repertoire. Many viewers watched Indian melodramas owing to boredom with Soviet and other films. Others enjoyed domestic and other foreign films also, yet considered Indian films with their distinctive qualities a necessary and refreshing alternative in the repertoire. 8l 81 The most obvious question to prompt comparison was what the interviewee remembered of other foreign films and Soviet films. However, the questions directly concerned with Indian cinema's appeal and questions on movie going in general frequently led to spontaneous comparisons between Indian and other films.
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Records of cinema repertoires in the post-war years demonstrate the high percentage of pre-war comedies, patriotic films and trophy fllms at the time. As suggested by respondents and interviewees thus far, in this context the first Indian melodramas were a radically different genre, using music, dance and romance to deal with social issues. Narrating how he pretended to be older than his 14 years in order to get a ticket to see the first Indian films, Nikolai Bobrikov remembered that Indian films were without precedent for his generation. Bobrikov recalled that post-war Soviet fllms were about the war or a rural economy harnessed in an effort to bolster the nation's spirit; they were never about
love. He juxtaposed this against Indian films, which ''never showed war because India had never waged wars." Anna Martysheva recalled seeing 'The Vagabond' more than once, sometimes several times in one day. Like Bobrikov, she relished Indian films in the fifties because they were a pleasing alternative to domestic fllms about war. Martysheva observed:
Indian fllms did not show a military in action. The Soviet films of the fifties ... well, characters went to war and returned. These were good fllms, but of a different orientation. The war was horrible ... so we ran to see Indian films because they were not about the war. Iurii Krivonosov remembered that the first Indian films made a lasting impression on him because they were the frrst movies he saw that showed 'everyday life.' He contrasted the appeal of these fllms with the character of Soviet cinema in the post-war period:
Our fllms were deeply ideological, primitive. Even melodramas were made on this basis. Films were made to show how things should be, rather than how they were. But no one understood how things should be or even what communism meant.
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Krivonosov recalled, too, that 'The Vagabond' and other Indian melodramas of the fllties used music differently from trophy fIlms. He explained that Indian ftlms were attractive because the music and the songs ''were part of the plot; the fIlms were exotic, had beautiful artistes ... and showed a struggle for justice." Emma Malaia also narrated how these early ftlms were the talk of the town because, hitherto, fIlms in the cinema repertoire had been chiefly about the war and revolution. She remembered with clarity the moment she fIrst heard about 'The Vagabond:'
One day my older sister came home and said, "oh what a beautiful fIlm I saw," and began to narrate the story of 'The Vagabond.' We went to see it immediately. It was sensational! Our fIlms then were good, but very different. ... (they had) a social orientation. Our lives were very boring to watch. Everywhere you looked, it was struggle, war and revolution. Beauty was minimal ... and then we saw the 'exotic beauty' in your fIlms .... While Malaia contrasted these fIlms' very 'unusual' aesthetic and visual appeal with that of Soviet productions, others juxtaposed the values espoused in Indian fIlms against those of domestic and other foreign fIlms in the Soviet Union at the time. When asked what she remembered about the early fIlms, Irina Arkhipova recalled being struck by the "goodness" and optimism in these early f11.ms, a tone she considered at odds with Soviet
f11.ms of the time. She explained:
We were raised on patriotism. Our ftlms were tragic; almost all post-war ftlms were about the war . .. Our fIlms ... ended in loss and death. The ftlms ... they were about our lives and problems. India did not seem to have these problems. Even the poverty was portrayed in an optimistic way. Many viewers explained that Indian melodramas were more attractive than Soviet cinema because their narratives were different from those in overly political domestic
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productions. These melodramas were also at variance with Soviet and other foreign films in that the resolutions they offered were simple and optimistic.
By the late fifties and early sixties, foreign films from other countries were imported in increasing numbers, and by the seventies, the domestic production of entertaining films rose. Many interviewees suggested, however, that an element of frustration with domestic films motivated an interest in Indian films even in these years. Valentina Kireeva, an enthusiastic viewer of Indian melodramas since the fifties, found it difficult to recall Soviet or other foreign films that were equally noteworthy. She remembered with pleasure much older Soviet films such as 'Volga-Volga,' but considered other domestic films to be "oflittle interest" because they "would hold forth on problems of production." Others were more favorably disposed towards domestic films, but still considered Indian films to offer that which Soviet ftlrns did not. Elena Genelitsa watched Indian films from the sixties onwards particularly because they were melodramas, a genre that was "not allowed" in Soviet films. She thought highly of domestic cinema but was not always keen on watching films that portrayed Soviet lives. In contrast, Indian films had plenty of beautiful and colourful visuals to offer. On the other hand, boredom with Soviet and other foreign productions motivated Irina Fazlova's fascination with Indian melodramas in the seventies. Commenting on Indian films of the seventies and eighties, Irina Fazlova explained why other films never held her attention the way Indian melodramas did:
Our films were about factory life ... I don't like films about the factory! And French comedies and American films ... wen, they simply shot each other in those films.
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Fazlova was not the only one to compare Soviet and other foreign films unfavorably with Indian fIlms. Gul'nara Kruglova considers romance to have been a nonexistent genre among other films to which she had access in the seventies and the eighties. She recalled:
In Soviet films, there was no genre that exhorted personal romance ... only the patriotic kind. Here, romance meant ploughing the earth. At an Indian film show, one could dream about personal romance, not the patriotic kind. Kruglova was not drawn to the "gray" aesthetic of Soviet ftlms and cinema of the socialist bloc, and found little in Italian and French films to recommend them on that score. She proclaimed that the aesthetic of these ftlms paled in comparison to that of Indian melodramas, which she loved for their vibrant colors. The discussion about Indian melodramas prompted Elena Seliverstova to state candidly: "Our films bored me to death...Indian fIlms were very refreshing; not about war, just the beautiful life." Other viewers ofSeliverstova's generation demonstrated similar disapproval of domestic cinema. Elena Boikova, who began watching Indian popular films in the eighties, contended:
I remember going mostly to see Indian ftlms. The halls were full -young girls and boys, but men and women too ... such a furor. However, no one really went to see Soviet or American films as much. I do not think it was fashionable. Her comments must be read as her personal assessment of foreign and domestic cinemas in the Soviet Union, rather than an 'accurate' reading of movie going reality. Dmitrii Zmeev, for instance, did enjoy Soviet ftlms, but was particularly fond of Indian melodramas because they were colorful and ''beautiful fantasies."
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Indian popular films' 'feel- good' quality was their distinguishing feature in the Soviet movie repertoire. They provided relaxation and 'exotic' visuals, which many viewers claimed not to find in European and Soviet films. Indian films' 'otherworldliness' created a space for the appreciative audience to escape the familiarity of their own realities. However, the perceived differences between their own world and that of the films did not preclude Soviet spectators' recognition of what they saw on the screen. The following section deals with the second motive suggested by viewers' narratives for watching Indian melodramas - identification.
Identification Inherent in the viewing of Indian films as another world of fantasy and 'idyllic' scenarios was the recognition of similarities that existed or the emulation of ideas this other world presented. In her work on the reception of Indian films in South India, Sara Dickey demonstrated that because film narratives drew their story material from reality and viewers recognized the issues and dilemmas portrayed as similar to those in their own lives, the films' resolutions offered the audience opportunity for 'escape.' The utopian denouements seemed attractive to viewers because the problems they resolved were recognizable. Therefore, 'escape' is impossible in a viewing experience, unless there is a basic recognition of or identification with the narrative or the on-screen characterizations. 82 The audience's identification with the film and its characters can be defmed as context-specific/cinematic and diffuse/extra-cinematic. As explained in the Introduction, in Andrew Tudor's theoretical model context-specific identification is an intense 82 Sara Dickey, Cinema and the Urban Poor in South India, 175.
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identification with the protagonists, whereby the identity of the spectator seems to merge with that of the stars. It can also be an emotional affmity or identification of a lesser intensity than the first kind. In general, 'identification' as a term is perhaps most commonly used to refer to "sympathizing or engaging with a character" or sharing the moral values of the protagonists. 83 Identification between audience and star/characters can occur when the traits of the character are analogous to those "known about, understood, delimited by, available to the wider culture.',s4 Diffuse identification or extracinematic identification takes place outside the viewing context. It refers to spectators' imitation of the stars and/or desire to live and act as their celluloid heroes. These instances of spectators' extra-cinematic identification with stars and films relate to John Fiske's definitions of audience productivity, also discussed earlier in the Introduction. Fiske defined enunciative and textual productivity to indicate viewers' ability to create meanings of the films they enjoy through sharing fan talk with other enthusiasts and writing screenplays for films. Such viewers garner 'cultural capital' in that they collect memorabilia, gossip and information related to the films they enjoy. 85 In their questionnaires, respondents had demonstrated both instances of identification with Indian popular films and their stars/protagonists. Viewers elaborated on these areas of their viewing experience in their interviews. They explained their identification with Indian melodramas as an emotional affmity with the characters or as symptomatic of greater moral, cultural or historical convergences. Identification was also evident in the desire of some viewers to emulate what they saw on screen and/or to familiarize themselves with the world that produced Indian ftlms.
83 Stacey, Star Gazing, 130.
84 Richard Dyer, Stars, 108. 85 John Fiske, "The Cultural Economy ofFandom," 37-49.
98 Identification: Relating to protagonists Indian fihns, as we have seen, were appealing because relationships they portrayed were ideal and solutions they presented were 'utopian.' Simultaneously, Indian films' forte was that the protagonists were 'simple,' recognizable, and therefore, credible characters. Explaining why the first Indian fihns made such a deep impression on him, Belotserkovskii recalled that he saw the film 'The Vagabond' as a ten year old and completely identified with the hero-protagonist. He remembered that it was as though he were watching himself on screen: "I watched the film and I thought, 'this is our village.' Each of us [in the audience] recognized some feature of our lives." In his recollections, Indian films were about "ordinary people," who resembled members of the audience. Vitalii Vikhomov remembered an analogous affInity or identification with the hero in 'The Vagabond.' Recalling the rush to see the film, for instance, Vikhomov explained that he and his friends could relate to the hero's defenselessness; like him, they too were young boys with limited means. Similarly, Emma Malaia found Indian films compelling because they were 'personal' and dealt with family problems. She explained:
They were simple storylines ... who married whom, who left whom, who loved whom, and who was not loved. They were so gentle and somewhat naive, but very human; this was something Soviet cinema lacked. Our films were very social.
Others remembered the emotional identification of post-war Soviet audiences with Indian film protagonists and attributed this to the expressive and unbridled portrayal of pain and joy in Indian films. Elena Semenova recalled that veterans in the audience were particularly prone to weeping during an Indian film show. In her words:
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They (veterans) could identify with the sense of personal loss. The audience was always happy that everything worked out happily in the end. Russians are particularly capable of empathizing with those in trouble ... others' pain and joy. So the fIlms struck an emotional chord with us. Many in the audience related to the protagonists, and viewers' narratives often highlighted the intense involvement of spectators as the story unfolded on screen. Belotserkovskii contended that character portrayals in Indian melodramas were convincing. Protagonists played "good," "enlightened" and "credible" characters, making the audience forget that it was merely a fIlm. According to Belotserkovskii, the identifIcation was on several occasions so complete that people in the audience would cheer loudly when the heroes won. Other viewers also described their experience as one shared by the larger viewing audience. Asrnatbek Shakarbekov watched Indian fIlms intensively in the sixties and seventies; he remembered that the fIrst fIlm he watched in the sixties, 'Flower in the Dust,' moved him and others in the audience. At the end of the show, Shakarbekov observed that the spectators emerged teary-eyed, and their complete identifIcation with the characters and storyline affected him deeply. Interviewees drew attention to their purely emotional response to Indian fIlms; moreover, these moments of emotional affinity with the characters were remembered as collective experiences. Everyone, without exception, recalled that Indian fIlm shows were accompanied by an audience in tears, during and after the show. Elena Bulycheva explained that the women, especially, always cried and hurt for the hero's trials in Indian films. She remembered that the audience "really felt for the heroes" and ''participated in the story." Valentina Kireeva explained this emotional response to Indian fIlms when she stated: "The films talked about the protagonists' depth of misfortunes and the women in the audience, in particular, empathized with the fate of the heroines in Indian films."
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Some of the younger generation viewers had similar recollections of the audience's identification with hero-protagonists. Katia Marginovskaia remembered that the moment the lights went off audience members responded identically to the unfolding of the events on the screen. She observed that Indian fIlms "captured the heart immediately," and it was difficult to refrain from crying. Marginovskaia recalled that movie theaters were fIlled with the sound of spectators weeping for the protagonists during an Indian fIlm show. She compared Indian fIlms with American fIlms and found the latter wanting in this regard:
Human relationships, the penetration into human character ... , Indian fIlms have this to a much greater extent, this is my personal opinion. Why do we cry and laugh with the characters on the screen? ... because we are one with the characters on screen. I watch American and Russian fIlms as a spectator. At an Indian fIlm show, I feel like a participant in the events. While these fIlms' denouement was perceived to be utopian or unrealistic, the situations and relationships portrayed were seen as familiar and recognizable. Many viewers considered these fIlms' stories and characters to be very human and life-like; therefore it was easy to relate to both. Some viewers identifIed with stars because of the characters they played or certain skills they demonstrated as artists. Most viewers recalled the fIlm 'Sita and Gita' fondly and remembered being impressed by the character Gita, who is feisty and determined to right patriarchal wrongs. Natal'ia Sergeeva described Gita as a woman ''who stood up for herself," and deviated sharply from apparent "standard" portrayals of demure Indian women in these fIlms. Elena Sukhorukova narrated memorable scenes from the fIlm in which Gita is being her sharp-witted, avenging self, and explained her identification in this way:
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I was spirited too, so I worshipped the energy of Gita. Whenever she grabbed someone by the collar and said, 'I'll show you! ... ' I loved her. Viewers remembered moments of emotional affinity with the stars and the characters they played, and unfailingly recounted that this identification was felt collectively by the larger audience. It is important to reiterate that this identification was not contradictory to viewers' experience of diversion or relaxation; rather, it was the recognition of shared values and characteristics that made the solutions these films presented seem relevant to viewers' own lives, and therefore, desirable and/or utopian.
Identification: Relating to the moral code
Melodramas, through their protagonists, are known to portray a very cut and dried moral universe and to represent contemporary values. 86 In this, film stars and the roles they play constitute a key element because the characters they project are a "source of morality and ethics.,,87 Interviewees lauded the attributes of the hero-protagonists and found these to resonate with their own moral expectations and convictions. They demonstrated an approbation of the moral tone of Indian fllms. This identification was personal, often cultural, and was described as the recognition of shared values and 'moral' principles. For instance, interviewees who had been first generation viewers of Indian melodramas appreciated these films for the absence of crudity and their portrayal of romantic love. Gudin enjoyed Indian films because they were devoid of ''violence'' or "cruelty." Moreover, Indian melodramas showed "clean" relationships, without eroticism or sex. Gudin believed that Soviet films of the fifties and sixties had demonstrated similar 86 Christine Gledhill, "Signs of Melodrama," in Stardom: Industry a/Desire, ed. Christine Gledhill (New York: Routledge, 1991), 216 87 Gledhill, "Signs of Melodrama," 209.
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features, but Indian films were more attractive because their vibrant colors were a change from the Soviet "ascetic" style. For Bobrikov, Indian films of the ftfties and subsequent decades were memorable for their "restrained" yet ''beautiful'' portrayal of love. He faulted American productions for not handling such themes effectively. Indian films evoked among many viewers this appreciation for the "clean" portrayal of love. Leontina Boiarshchina, who watched Indian films from the fifties until the late Soviet period, believed that Indian films set guidelines for 'appropriate behaviour' and she used them for that purpose. She related to the characters in Indian films because they were recognizable from her own environment, and reminiscent of characterizations in Taras Shevchenko novels. Boiarshchina explained that she "took good example from Indian films; how girls behaved, how relationships were, how the heroine related to others and
how she helped the poor." Elena Semenova considered Indian films' great strength to be their portrayal of romance. She observed that these ftlms showed "good, sincere love without aggressive sex ... not some animal passion." She said about her exposure to Indian ftlms, especially in her growing years:
[These films] ... formed our characters wen. The young generation these days is impoverished. They watch sex and violence, and the sex precludes emotional involvement. She explained that Indian films may have been naive in that respect, but at least they evoked "goodness, empathy and no malevolent thoughts." Valentina Kireeva remembered that the moral undertone of the films resonated with her own upbringing in those years:
The films showed 'clean' relationships, relationships of the soul, real love. We were raised very strictly, like Indian girls. I was embarrassed by kissing on the screen. In an Indian film, it was so pleasant to watch real love without an its
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'urges.' They show a love of the heart, of the soul. It coincided with our moral worldview. Gavhar Dzhuraeva appreciated Indian fIlms for their portrayal of "ideal relationships, ideal love" and "purity of emotions." She contrasted these fIlms with Soviet and European fIlms, in which protagonists expressed love mainly through physical contact. She attributed her approbation of cultural preferences in Indian melodramas to the affinity between Indian and Tadjik cultures; she remembered that her grandmother particularly enjoyed going to an Indian fIlm show because protagonists never kissed on screen. Davlatbekim Guliamamadova, also a Pamir Tadjik, remembered that Indian fllms, especially the fIlm 'The Confluence,' showed "pure, emotional love." She suggested: "Even the word 'confluence' was meant to indicate a confluence of hearts and not bodies." Elena Boikova, who began watching Indian f1lms in her teenage years in the eighties, also explained her interest in Indian fIlms with reference to its privileging of 'emotional' over 'physical' love. In her words:
Indian fllms ... how do I explain ... they were so beautiful. There is so little romance in life and these f1lms had such romantic moments. We now see American fllms. The hero kisses the heroine and two days later, they are sleeping together. Indian f1lms do not have this ... it is all romantically portrayed. He gives her a flower and is about to kiss her, when she looks away ... oh! Viktoriia Kim, an admirer of Indian melodramas since the eighties, cited protagonists' restraint from physical intimacy in these fIlms as a factor in their favour. She found the romance portrayed in the fIlms resembled a skazka, and therefore considered it pleasing to watch. Another component of the 'moral universe' of Indian melodramas that interviewees referred to nostalgically was 'dobrota' or goodness. In viewers' narratives,
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the 'humaneness' of Indian melodramas was often juxtaposed with the perceived "aggression" and "violence" in the average American films that Russian television now broadcasts. Lev Eglit, upset about the onslaught of American films today, praised Indian films for their 'goodness' and their noble quality. He stated that these films had the "ability to exercise a beneficial influence on human behaviour and offered all that is of value to a human being." Others found the moral pathos of Indian films helpful in times of crisis. We saw earlier that Indian melodramas have recently become a source of reassurance for Gavhar Dzhuraeva, helping her out of her depression over the ravages of civil war that plagued her homeland Tadjikistan. Likewise, Belotserkovskii observed that Indian films with their portrayal of sacrifice in the name of friendship or love have proved to be a beacon of comfort during times of personal loss. He explained:
When I feel low or things are not going wen, I watch my favorite Indian film ... 'Confluence.' While watching, I forget my despondence and think, "Oh God, this is all so trivial! It is possible to survive this."
By virtue of their moral prescriptions, these films struck a responsive chord among many viewers and facilitated the audience's identification with the protagonists. Viewers considered Indian films attractive because they portrayed realHfe scenarios and conveyed 'lessons' in handling various personal situations.
Identification: Seeing social parallels
Viewers sometimes explained identification as stemming from socio-cultural and historical parallels. This is especially true for the first Soviet audiences of Indian films, raised on the fifties' social films from India. We have seen that questionnaire respondents recognized many issues raised in eady Indian films as akin to those facing Soviet society
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in the post-war years. This recognition also found mention in many interviewees' narrative explanations of the appeal of the first Indian films to which they had access. Nikolai Bobrikov saw commonalities between the society portrayed in the film and postwar Soviet society and described them thus:
During the war, people were killed here ... In India and Russia, the post-war years saw difficulties, tragedies, injustices. We lived here in wood huts, with stove heating. There was banditry, theft and murders. We did not live easy lives and in the first films we saw that India was no different. 'The Vagabond,' for instance, was a tragic film that portrayed the tragic through music and dance."
He considers that the film 'The Vagabond' had an edifying function because it was centered on a "struggle for truth, the rule of law and honesty." For Elena Bulycheva, the first Indian films had shown that life was also difficult elsewhere. Hitherto, trophy films that were of the pre-war era and Soviet period and patriotic films were the staple fare in theaters in the early fifties. Indian films, in her memory, were the first to show "life as it was"; they drew viewers' attention to everyday concerns of many Indians. She explained that in post-war Soviet society life was "difficult," and observing similar hardships in India endeared the first films to Soviet audiences. The early films' portrayal of poverty and illiteracy reminded Evgenii Beletskii of the state of Soviet society after the civil war. He recalled:
Life in your country was much more impoverished, and we related to this with pain. The life portrayed, and the spirit of the hero's struggle to live a good life ... this corresponded to our spirit.
The first Indian melodramas in Soviet theaters were conscious pleas for social reform, and the problems they raised were immediately recognizable to the Soviet
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audience. Moreover, they demonstrated the human and personal face of these social issues, a feature that won these mms many Soviet admirers in the fifties. Viewers noticed similarities in societal and historical trajectories but also commented on their cultural and social affinity with the world they saw on the screen (this relates to the appreciation that many demonstrated for the moral prescriptions of Indian melodramas). For viewers like Elena Bulycheva, the world portrayed in trophy mms seemed foreign and unfamiliar, while the India in Indian films seemed akin to Soviet society of that period. She believed the similarity lay not only in their societal problems of the post-war period, but also in cultural traits. Her perception was that Soviet society, at the time of the Indian films of the fifties and sixties, was characterized by "simple" people who led difficult lives and whose personal relationships were "open." She recalled that these early Indian films corresponded to the "spirit" of the Soviet audience at the time. Others like Leontina Boiarshchina remembered that some of the social issues raised in the films had also been problems inhering in Soviet society in the post-war years. She explained:
Like in your country, many young people here loved each other, but parents would not allow the match. Many girls were forced to marry much older men. This happened in your country too.
Apparent similarities between Russian and Indian worldviews and philosophies heightened the audience's sense of identification with the characters and narratives of Indian mms, and distinguished these mms from other cinemas. Natal'ia Beniukh explained Indian films' attraction as an emotional and cultural resonance with the audience. In her words:
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The affmity of our souls ... one felt that immediately. With French films, for instance, you could not say that happened. And here (with Indian films) this was true. There was a consonance between what the actors expressed, inter-personal interactions portrayed and the inner world of the Soviet person. The fIlms resonated with us ... there are features we had in common. Our worldviews, relationships .. , they converged. You understood these heroes and their behaviour; you approved their actions. Others recognized features of their own backgrounds in Indian films and were drawn to these films because of this cultural affinity. Belotserkovskii saw similarities between Ukrainians and Indians and cited this as contributing to the appeal of the first films in his hometown in Ukraine. He explained:
The people of Western Ukraine, where I grew up, are very romantic, sentimental ... not unlike what we saw in Indian films. The films corresponded with our inner worlds; it was in harmony with what we knew. For some, Indian fIlms were the first glimpse of a people whose culture and physical appearance were similar to what viewers knew in their own experience. Josefina Gon'i, who left Spain as a child in the Franco years and was unable to return, remembered watching the first Indian films with her club of Spanish friends in Moscow. El Vagabondo or 'The Vagabond' and other early Indian films remain her favorite cinematic fare to this day. She recalled:
We saw India in these films and the people were so beautiful, so musical ... everything reminded me of Andalusia. After all, we have gypsies there, who come from India ... maybe that is why .... Karen Akopian, an Armenian who grew up in Tbilisi, remembered that the first Indian fllms made a deep impression upon him because, until then, he had never seen
protagonists who actually resembled the people in whose midst he lived. He observed:
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Until then I had seen only Soviet fllms or trophy films ... (Indian films) were a different world and in many ways closer to my own environment (in Thilisi). Around me, I saw people similar to those I saw on the screen ... Kurds, for instance, used to wear their national clothes all the time, and Azeris resemble Indians. Until Indian films, I had never seen this on the screen. Viewers of later generations continued to identify cultural similarities as being an important reason for Indian melodramas' popularity. Gavhar Dzhuraeva remembered that while Iranian, Turkish and Arabic cinema appeared foreign, Indian cinema seemed native to its Tadjik audiences. She said:
It seemed very close, another culture, yet a part of our souls. The proximity of the Pamir to India and the physical similarities ... made this cinema loveable and dear to us. It ranked first for us, although we liked Soviet cinema also. Other Tadjiks from the Pamir, who remembered Indian fI.lms with pleasure, also evoked the Pamir-India affinity in their narratives. According to Baksho Lashkarbekov, Indian film music had an enormous influence in reviving the music tradition of the Pamir, where the music of the films was warmly received. He said:
We appreciated Soviet films, but as children of the east, we liked Indian films. We loved them for their plots and their music. The music is more captivating than that produced in Mosfil'm studios; Soviet fI.lm music did not touch us in the way that Indian music did. Indian fI.lms also elicited audience identification in other ways that set them apart from domestic and other foreign fI.lms in Soviet theaters. While romantic heterosexual love was an integral part of the plot, it was often secondary to other familial relationships in the narrative. Nonna Kotrikadze, who started watching films in the seventies with the release of 'Bobby,' responded favorably to the portrayal of parent-children relationships in Indian films. She observed:
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This is a constant theme in Indian films and I could relate to it ... this is because our (Georgian) families are similar. Western and Soviet films showed love between men and women, but not between parent and child. I admired this feature in Indian films. While early viewers remembered seeing historical parallels between Indian society and their own in early Indian films, both early and later generation viewers recognized cultural traits in these films that appeared to resonate with their own world-views and realities. Admirers referred to shared cultural characteristics as often as they did to the 'exotic otherworldliness' of Indian films when recollecting their enjoyment of this cinema in the past.
Identification: learning, emulating, collecting Like the questionnaires, interviews also yielded insights into the manner in which viewers of Indian ftlms took the process of identification with stars and characterizations further, through imitation and learning about India. The curiosity to know more, emulation and the sharing of information and gossip represented and exemplified, as defined in the Introduction, moviegoers' 'enunciative productivity,' fan-like behaviour and their desire for 'cultural capita1.' Moreover, viewers usually remembered these activities as a collective experience. I begin with spectators' quest for information and their desire to learn more about India. The world Indian melodramas opened up to Soviet audiences generated an active interest in the society that produced the films. The reader will recall that Zagrebel'ny decided to become an Indoiogist, prompted by his admiration for the festival films in 1954. Tatiana Egoreva and Iurii Korchagov took to studying Indian languages and made India a professional preoccupation, owing to their fascination with the same melodramas.
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These films prompted others to search for optimum information about India. Anna Iakusheva was so fond of the Indian films she saw that she sought exhibitions, programs and documentaries on India. Lilia Tol'chinskaia, likewise, enjoyed reading all the literature to which she could gain access, in order to learn more about the country whose films she enjoyed. Emma Malaia, as we saw earlier, was inspired by the costumes in Indian films to develop costume designing as a professional interest. Later generation viewers also testified to this interest in India inspired by its films. Elena Sinishina was curious about the country whose fllms she loved and sought more books on its cinema, art and religions. Tatiana Kazarian used to watch television programs about India because of an interest in the country inspired by her admiration for the films. Natal'ia Sergeeva recalled that her friend sketched Indian costumes during Indian film shows in the seventies. Alexandra Alimova wanted to learn Indian dance, but her quest for dance courses in the Soviet period bore no fruit. Dmitrii Zmeev and Elena Seliverstova were fascinated by film dance in the films 'Sita and Gita' and 'Bobby' and were eager to learn Indian classical dances. Like Alimova, they were frustrated by the absence of opportunities to study Indian dance in the Soviet period. They resigned themselves to reading books and articles on Indian arts and dance traditions published in the Soviet Union. Nonna Kotrikadze and Gul'nara Kruglova have both been admirers of Indian films since the 1970s. Both recalled that, in the seventies and eighties, they read any available literature on India avidly and treated Indian melodramas as ethnographic texts, so they could learn about Indian culture. In the post-Soviet period, many of these fans of Indian melodramas have taken advantages of new opportunities to familiarize themselves with India. Zmeev and Seliverstova set off separately to India in the mid-nineties and studied Indian dance there for several years. As mentioned earlier, Zmeev now teaches an Indian classical dance
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form in Moscow. Zmeev and Seliverstova are only two of countless aspirants who, inspired by dance in Indian films, traveled to India in the nineties to learn various Indian classical dance forms at the best schools. 88 Kruglova and Kotrikadze have used the new creative freedom of the post-Soviet period to publish a magazine on India, its art and philosophical traditions, and most importantly, its cinema. Viewers' recollections suggested that India was both a radically different world and one which shared certain social and cultural presuppositions with Soviet society, and viewers' quest for information and knowledge about India was an attempt to bridge these worlds.
Interviewees identified with the protagonists on the screen during the viewing process, but also imitated facets of a star's personality or character after a film performance. Some viewers learned film songs, staged reconstruction of scenes from Indian fIlms, and emulated their on-screen heroes. The songs and music of Indian fIlms, undoubtedly, made a favorable impression on Soviet spectators; all forty interviewees who watched Indian films when they first appeared in the Soviet Union recalled singing the songs of 'The Vagabond.' The title song (Awara hoon in Hindi, Brodiaga ia in Russian) was distributed in Russian, Uzbek and other versions. Kireeva was able to sing the entire first verse and refrain of the song in Hindi, during the interview. Beletskii used to sing Indian film songs to pacify his newborn son in the ftfties. Some remembered mimicking Raj Kapoor's singing and gait in the film, and others recalled the ubiquity of Indian film music:
88 Valentin Zagrebel'ny, Vera Fedorchenko (who filmed these students at their dance schools in India for her own documentary on Indian films), Nonna Kotrikadze, Dmitrii Zmeev and Elena Seliverstova communicated this to me in separate interviews.
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I sang songs from Raj Kapoor films full throated, while walking on the streets. (Sings song for me in Russian). I even had a book, in which I painstakingly wrote the lyrics of these songs. I remember this very well. That is how much I liked these songs. (Karen Akopian)
I feel Indian films were always in our theaters. Even when I was a boy ... aU of us ran on the streets and sang 'Awara-hoon.' (Albert Gudin)
The songs of the films were grandiose hits. Records appeared by the late fifties, and our most popular singers sang the song Brodiaga-ia in Russian. (Valentin Zagrebel'ny)
I think all the young men of Odessa sang 'Awara-ia.' (Vitalii Vikhomov)
There were even parodies on television about grandmothers who sang 'Brodiagaia' (Elena Bulycheva)
Some remembered reconstructing sequences from films they enjoyed. Bulycheva recalled that she and her friends imitated the female dancers in these films because "Indian culture was different," "interesting," and inspired emulation. Certain characters in Indian films were so memorable that their names in the films became nicknames for many in the Soviet audience. The villain in 'The Vagabond' is caned Jagga in the film, and Vladimir Bondarev remembered that particularly aggressive students in university always earned the nickname Jagga. He even recalled a Bol'shoi theater orchestra where one of the musicians introduced himself as Jagga. Decades later, another character would have the same pervasive influence: the feisty twin Gita in the film Sita and Gita. We saw that some interviewees specifically identified with that role in the films. According to Gavhar Dzhuraeva, she and her sister were called Sita and Gita by their parents. Katia Marginovskaia remembered that little girls in her
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apartment building were nicknamed Sita and Gita years after the fIlm was released in the seventies. 89 Imitation sometimes took the form of the reconstruction of scenes from ftlms. Belotserkovskii remembered that he and his friends would watch Indian ftlms in the village in the fifties and early sixties. He and other children his age would stage shows inspired by Indian melodramas and impersonate actors in Indian films. He recalled:
We dressed up and played our favorite scenes in Indian fJ.lms .... It was like puppet theater. We could not sing like in the fJ.lms ... but we did what we could. Some people even came to watch. Imitation often meant trying to look like Indian actors, particularly the female stars. Bulycheva narrated that she was inspired by the costumes in Indian ftlms to try wearing a sari with any fabric she had at her disposal. Sukhorukova attended summer camps in the seventies and participated with her friends in competitions, where each contestant was supposed to select a country to represent. In her words:
We always fought about who would go as the Indian woman. We tried wearing a sari ... we observed everything in Indian films, the hennaed hands, the dot on the forehead ... and we tried to imitate all of that. Kruglova remembered that she and her friends used to stage scenes from Indian filins of the eighties. She said:
We felt we lived in the world that we saw in Indian ftlms. We made our costumes ... like those of male and female stars. We tried to wear saris ... we each selected a star we wanted to impersonate. I played Hema Malini. Some of my friends acted like Mithun in 'Disco Dancer.' We tried to wear our hair in the 89 Since then, many such cases of twins, sisters and even brothers being named Sita and Gita in the fonner Soviet Union have been brought to my attention by various contacts in the region.
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same way also. Even those who did not watch Indian films regularly were able to guess which actor we were playing. She recalled with amusement that they never knew how to dance once the camera panned away from the main dancers! Such recollections demonstrate the deep imprint Indian films left on popular culture in the Soviet Union. Viewers' familiarity with stars and
desire to imitate what they saw on the screen is indicative of a genuine 'fan' culture around Indian films in the Soviet Union. As discussed earlier, for many moviegoers, Indian popular films' strength was the
paramount role of romance in the unraveling of the plot and the invariable portrayals of hero protagonists lavishing heroines with attention and love. These films inspired many viewers to covet similar personal scenarios in their lives. Kireeva stated that Indian films made her "reflect on love," and "how steadfast and strong...how beautiful it could be." She recalled:
Indian films showed that love is life itself. You are a changed person once you have seen an Indian film. I wanted the same love, the same powerful emotion. I wanted to love and be loved by my man, just as passionately as they did in Indian films.
Alimova explained that Indian films inspired her to "live beautifully:"
The beautiful scenes of love and of romantic assignations ... I wanted my life to be that beautiful. When I fell in love, I wanted it to be like that ... beautiful, happy, with everyone happy for me. That everything would be beautiful and soulful. Dzhuraeva shared this observation and recalled the impact of the portrayals of romance in Indian films:
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When I watched Indian melodramas, I thought of meeting the love of my life ... and in my consciousness, it was always like scenes from an Indian ftlm, to the accompaniment of music. I remember the boy next door who liked me. Ifhe wanted to send me a message ... we did not talk ... just exchanged meaningful glances like in Indian ftlms, and then he would play Indian fIlm music loudly in his house. Then the message was clear to me (laughs). Indian fthns, Indian songs ... that was not foreign, but a part of us. The love scenes and the general permeation of every ftlm with romance made these fIlms models in expressions of heterosexual love in the eyes of their Soviet admirers.
Identiftcatory practices of Indian ftlm admirers also extended to the collecting of memorabilia associated with Indian melodramas and India. In most societies, movie going generates subcultures where fans collect memorabilia and attempt to gather and share information about their favorite stars. Viewers' recollections indicate that many engaged in collecting information or objects related to Indian fthns or even India, and they practiced this differently over the decades. Their practices ranged from collecting postcards to presently subscribing to special fIlm magazines. The fIlms of the ftfties inspired many to collect postcards, which they treasure until today. Many interviewees remembered that Indian ftlm postcards were sold in mass quantities and that it was very common to have a scrapbook of these cards (Vladimir Bondarev). According to Asmatbek Shakarbekov, it was common to see a portrait of Raj Kapoor in living rooms in Tadjik cities in those years. 90 Indian ftlm buffs remembered collecting anything to do with India in the seventies and eighties (Dmitrii Zmeev). These later day enthusiasts of Indian melodramas also began to avail themselves of newer opportunities to acquire information or memorabilia to do with Indian ftlms in the seventies and eighties. Gul'nara Kruglova 90 Naum Kleiman informed me that on several occasions in the fifties and sixties he saw cars with Indian film postcards pasted on the back window. Kleiman, interview. ".
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recalled with amusement that when Soviet soldiers were stationed in Afghanistan, they used to send their girlfriends and families postcards of Indian fllm stars that were available there. These cards were then reproduced by the recipients and sent out to all those interested in their circle of acquaintances and friends. Others corresponded with each other and soon found a nation-wide community of potential pen friends, all united by their admiration for Indian fllms. Elena Sinishina wrote to a journal about her partiality for Indian fllms in the eighties; the editors referred her to a group of correspondents across the Soviet Union. These admirers of Indian melodramas wrote to each other about their interests and exchanged postcards, information and gossip about these fllms. Younger interviewees remembered that this was a lively sub-culture by the late eighties. Additionally, viewers used to befriend fllm technicians who would oblige them with snippets of the fllm reel, which these enterprising Indian fllm fans would then have reproduced as slides or photos. Many a marriage between fan and ftlm technician is supposed to have resulted from these activities (Gul'nara Kruglova, Irina Fazlova, Nonna Kotrikadze, Dmitrii Zmeev). These admirers of Indian fllms also visited a club of kindred spirits that began meeting in the metro Volgograd Prospect in the late eighties and continues to meet there until today. At this club, fans discussed the fllms they had watched, and shared gossip that they had read in magazines or heard from those who had traveled to India (Fazlova, Kruglova). In the Soviet period, collecting and exchanging memorabilia, and interacting with kindred spirits remained an unofficial 'samodeiatel 'nost,' shaped by viewers' enterprise and initiative. The acquisition of information and ftlm memorabilia became easier with each passing decade. The nineties has been characterized by the almost complete disappearance of Indian fllms from theaters and television, but also, paradoxically, by the
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emergence of a national club for fans of Indian films and magazines and websites exclusively devoted to Indian popular cinema.
h. Why some grew disillusioned .•• Considering interviews addressed the popularity of Indian melodramas over four decades, it was unsurprising that some viewers remembered phases of intensive viewing and periods of diminished interest in these films. The earliest group of interviewed viewers, who watched the first social melodramas of the fifties, mostly sustained an admiration for Indian films over the following decades. Some, however, grew weary of the "monotony" and increasing "commercialization" of Indian melodramas in the following years. For these viewers, Indian melodramas after the sixties were removed from reality and failed to maintain the standards set by the first films they had watched in the fifties. Their grievances against Indian melodramas resonated with Soviet critical ideas of mass-appeal cinema; such cinematic fare was not art because it failed to inspire thought or reflection, and instead allowed spectators to evade important questions. This is exemplified in the following observation:
Indian films began to be shown in mass quantities ... after a while my interest diminished. One saw the naivete ofthe films, of the romance, and one began to realize that this was a world unto itself, which had nothing to do with reality ... purely commercial films, stereotypical, similar to each other ... they simply were not satisfying anymore. (Valentin Zagrebel'ny)
Natal'ia Beniukh continued to watch Indian films in the decades fonowing the fifties and sixties, but she considered the first films to be the very best. She explained why:
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Raj Kapoor also had dances and songs in his fIlms, but they were very realistic ..
. like it happens in life. Later, fIlms ... were removed from reality. They became 'skazkas,' which did not rivet us. [They were] too unreal. Two disillusioned viewers referred to most Indian fIlms after the sixties as cinematic fare for the ''unsophisticated provincial audiences." For Bela Chemobel'skaia, Raj Kapoor's 'The Vagabond' has remained an all-time classic, which she remembered
with fondness. In her opinion, the fIlm's dramatizations seemed to be inspired by the European school. She did not watch later fllms because, in their 'nationalness,' they seemed to be very specmca1ly made for the Indian audience. According to Chemobel'skaia, Indian fIlms came to be associated with ''poor taste:"
The fIlms became more musical ... had a very specifIc style and had their own auditorium. There were ladies, you could say provincial women, who watched Indian fllms. Chemobel'skaia commented that her interest in Indian popular fIlms declined with the appearance of "intellectual cinema from Italy," adding that one could not compare an "Antonini fIlm with Indian melodramas." Galina Kleimenova also remembered that Indian fIlms were no longer appealing to her after the sixties because they became exclusively 'escapist,' which meant people of a "certain layer of society" could no longer identify with these fllms. She identifIed their viewers as being primarily, "ordinary women," for whom the fllms were a "balm for the soul, and an escape from gray reality." For Kleimenova and Chemobel'skaia, Indian fllms came to be associated with an undiscerning audience that lacked sophistication. Moreover, to their dismay, these fllms were no longer 'universal' themes with an appeal for foreign audiences, but Indian in their composition and storyline.
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Ironically, some other viewers grew disenchanted with Indian melodramas in the late eighties and nineties because they believed Indian films of these later decades had 'lost' their 'Indianness.' In their observations, Indian films had first been appealing because they documented and perpetuated Indian culture as viewers understood it. These viewers were chagrined that Indian films after the eighties had become' Americanized' and 'lost their national character,' and therefore, become less attractive. Belotserkovskii categorically rejected contemporary Indian films in the following words:
I especially do not enjoy Indian films made after the eighties. They are more Americanized. They resemble American action films. It is no longer an essentially Indian cinema as it should be. Some interviewees insisted that these films had recently become too violent, mannerisms too 'western,' and that the initial 'authentic Indianness' they displayed was no longer to be found in these ftlms. Guliamamadova remembered Indian ftlms until the eighties as being "gentle" and "peaceful," as opposed to contemporary films that are too violent for her taste. She recalled the earlier, ''purely joyful experience" of watching Indian ftlms with her family. She rued the fact that the violence in contemporary Indian ftlms did not encourage such shared family viewing sessions. Many viewers had cited Indian ftlms as representing ideals that were worthy of emulation in inter-personal relationships. However, Indian ftlms of the late eighties and nineties modified some viewers' perspective on this issue. Dzhuraeva observed with dismay that Indian films now portrayed dysfunctional relationships between men and women and she feared these films' impact on social behavior. Some viewers were unable to reconcile their understanding of the Indian aesthetic with westem fashions. Zmeev, for instance, considered Indian women wearing western clothes to represent a travesty of that aesthetic:
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Nowadays, in these films ... they try to imitate western manners, conversational styles and appearance. This is unfortunate ... because the unusual quality of these films always drew me to them; their 'easternness' had always been their novel quality. Nowadays, Indian films are spoilt. Indian films used to convey authenticity .... Now the clothes are vulgar.
These viewers believed earlier Indian films 'reflected' Indian culture in an unmediated manner. In their interpretations, the India of contemporary Indian popular cinema has failed to retain its 'essence' and is 'corrupted' by western influences. Such changes in preferences aside, most interviewees belonging to the early and subsequent generations of movie audiences have persisted in their enjoyment of these films until the present.
Conclusion Questionnaires laid bare the importance of moviegoing in the fifties and sixties and the particular novelty and significance of Indian films in that historical context. Viewers articulated that these films appealed because of their generic features, 'exotic' settings, commendable characters and ideal resolutions to social and personal dilemmas. These films imparted to the audience certain 'appropriate' and familiar 'values' and acted as ethnographic documentaries ofIndian culture. Observations of the 'different, yet familiar' world of Indian films also emerged as a constant refrain in interviewees' narratives. In addition to the textual aspects of these films that facilitated 'escape' and 'identification,' viewers articulated the personal or socio-historical aspects of the viewing context that made escape attractive and identification possible. In Fiske's terms, many of these viewers were fans in that they shared their admiration for Indian films with others and sought to accumulate 'cultural capital' (information and things) in pursuit of their interest in this cinema.
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Through its melodramas, India acquired a place in Soviet popular imagination, inspiring confident observations about 'Indian culture,' and dismay at the 'loss of Indianness' in contemporary India. For melodrama enthusiasts, Indian ftlms were Indian culture, and having access to these ftlms inspired the practice of 'mowing' and 'understanding' India. Viewers were inspired to make comparisons with their own realities; they drew parallels, not perhaps with their political lives but with their moral, social and cultural worlds. For some, Indian films created images of a society that appeared riddled with problems like the Soviet Union, but that exhibited a seemingly lifeaffrrming approach to their resolution. For others, the films' (and by extension, India's) intrinsic 'moral code' and the privileging of romantic relationships became cultural standards against which personal situations could be measured. These films seemed to represent a world that was very different, yet bore similarities to the cultural backgrounds and moral assumptions of many viewers. Indian melodramas, by offering respite, 'escape' and the comfort of familiarity, created room for their Soviet admirers to contemplate
alternative personal, social and cultural realities. The entire extra-cinematic phenomenon of collecting information and seeking familiarity with the society that shaped these films is testimony to India becoming a cultural point of reference for those who were exposed to these movies in the Soviet Union. These experiences with the Indian melodrama occurred in a context, where policy makers, cultural mediators and the press participated in the perpetuation of Indian films or the shaping of public opinion about them. Was the audience's enjoyment of entertaining Indian cinema experienced within the parameters of official culture? Why did this audience come to exist in the Soviet Union? What sustained it, and did it impinge upon other participants in the cultural arena of movie import, movie distribution and movie talk? The following three chapters consider official policy regarding these ftlms'
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import, critical mediators' role in moulding melodrama audience's tastes, and the public presence of admirers of Indian melodramas in post-Stalinist Soviet society.
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Chapter 2 STATE PATRONAGE OF INDIAN CINEMA, 1949-1991 Meeting official and audience needs
In post-Stalinist society, moviegoers enjoyed Indian films that projected familiar cultural values, privileged the personal, the romantic, the 'exotic' and the apolitical, and broadened their social horizons. Viewership statistics suggest that Indian films appeared on the blockbuster' charts' more often than other foreign cinemas in the Soviet Union. This chapter proposes to shed light on the institutional context in which this audience for Indian melodramas took shape in post-Stalinist Soviet society. It seeks to understand how policy makers and importers acted as an interpretive community, by analyzing the evaluative criteria and assumptions they brought to assessing Indian films for import. Why did the state allow a space to emerge where viewers could indulge their preference for Indian popular cinema? What, if any, benefits did the state reap from the patronage of Indian melodramas? In the following pages, Section I explains the nature of early film exchanges, which set the stage for the trade in films. Section n is a discussion of the ideological and/or pragmatic considerations that underpinned Soviet film import policy. The annual reports and plans of Soveksportfil'm, the organization that dealt with export and import of films, reveal the guiding principles of the film trade between India and the Soviet Union.
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SECTION I EXPLORING TIES WITH INDIA, 1940s-1954
Curiosity and admiration propelled early ties between India and the Soviet Union, in the years leading up to the Soviet Union's ftrst major exposure to Indian popular fihns in the film festival of 1954.
The quest for new friends: In the forties, India's independence from British colonial rule was imminent. In these years, the Soviet Union used cultural exchanges with Indian organizations to secure support for the Soviet Union's 'anti-imperialist' policy. Soviet efforts to become familiar with India in the colonial period were inspired by the presence of sympathizers of the Soviet Union within Indian cultural and political organizations. In the 1940s, communist and other left-wing organizations in India expended great effort in promoting Soviet propaganda there, emphasizing the appeal of Communist ideology in the context ofIndia's anti-colonial struggle. One of these was the Indian People's Theater Association (LP.T.A), which was unofficially associated with the Communist Party ofIndia and possibly the only cultural avant-garde movement in India in the forties and fifties. Its manifesto of 1943 caned for a "defense of culture against Imperialism and Fascism." Many members of the Indian cultural intelligentsia were involved with the tP.T.A, both after the war and in the early post-independence period. J Another such organization was the AU-India Friends of the Soviet Union (A.LF.S.U), which was set up in 1941. Its officebearers and members were prominent activists in India's freedom movement. Their activities i A. Rajadhyaksha and Paul Willeman, Encyclopaedia, 109.
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included exhibitions, public meetings, lectures, book sales, library ventures and study circles. A.LF.S.U members emphasized the need for more Soviet propaganda in India, including an exhibition on the Soviet victory in Wodd War n. These activities, they claimed, would help to spread "correct information" about the Soviet Union? In the years leading up to independence in 1947, for many such organizations in India, Indo-Soviet friendship and the accompanying exchanges were an essential component of the larger Indian struggle for independence, "peace and justice.,,3
In the Soviet Union, two organizations shared responsibility for cultural exchanges with India and other foreign countries in this period. The first was the Soviet Society for Cultural Relations (Vse-sovetskoe obshchestvo kul'turnykh sviazei) or S.S.C.R and the second was Soveksportfil'm. The S.S.C.R was established in 1925 for facilitating scientific and cultural ties between Soviet and foreign cultural institutions, social organizations and practitioners in the fields of science and culture. Its functions included the hosting of lectures and get-togethers for visiting film delegations, screening films from foreign countries on its premises, undertaking cultural propagandist work in foreign countries, and providing assistance to developing countries struggling for independence from colonial rule. 4 This organization actively pursued activities in pre-independence India. In their interactions with Indian sympathizers, S.S.C.R members were always forthcoming with information about Soviet achievements in cinematic and other cultural spheres. Their cultural measures involved
2 Gosudarstvennyi Arkhiv Rossiisskoi Federatsii (GARF), f. R-5283, o. 19, d. 140.!. 14 (1947). 3 ibid. 4 GARF, f. 9576, 0.16, d. 270, US (1966).
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sending books, films and other information that would ostensibly serve in shaping Indian people's political consciousness and the eventual overthrow of the British regime. Aside from Indian enthusiasts for Soviet information and books, a small Indian audience for Soviet films began to influence cultural exchanges in the forties. The S.S.C.R had a film section in which 75 of the country's best directors, actors, scriptwriters and operators were members. Some of these members were directors such as Sergei Gerasimov, V sevolod Pudovkin, Igor' Savchenko, Sergei Eisenstein and Mikhail Kalatozov and actors such as Vera Martskaia. Pudovkin himself was the director of the film section of the S.S.C.R. 5 This film department sought to promote the cinemas of the world with special film functions and retrospectives devoted to individual countries, and arranged for Soviet films to be sent abroad when requested by affiliates or branches in other countries. 6 In the forties, the A.I.F.S.U in India made plans to form a Soviet film movement, in order to facilitate screening of Soviet films in India and strengthen the two countries' friendship.? S.S.C.R provided the A.I. F.S.U with technical support to encourage such activities. 8 The IPTA also wrote frequently to the S.S.C.R requesting Soviet films for screenings among members;9 many Soviet cinematographers' relationships with Indian filmmakers began with this association. Additionally, the 8.S.C.R's film section had an ongoing correspondence with independent Indian film studios. Their exchanges centered on technical and other forms of assistance from the Soviet side. In July 1947, a motion pictures studio in South India wrote to the S.S.C.R requesting Soviet books on film production, direction and acting. 10 These
5 GARF, f. R-5283, 0.19, d. 141, 1.29 (1944). 6 GARF, f. 9576, 0.16, d. 59 (1960-61). 7 GARF, f. R-5283, o. 19, d. 155,1.26-28 (1944). 8 GARF, f. R-5283, 0.19, d. 155, I. 1 (1944). 9 GARF, f. R-5283, 0.19, d. 141, I. 25-27 (1945). 10 GARF, f. R-5283. 0.19, d. 165,1. 10 (l947).
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friendly overtures from film professionals in India pleased Soviet cinematographers such as Pudovkin.ll The S.S.C.R soon ceased to be exclusively responsible for Soviet film distribution in India. In order to conduct business, Soveksportfil'm began to set up regional offices abroad in the 1940s. In India, the regional office was set up in Bombay in 1946 and in Madras and Calcutta in 1978. Soveksportfil'm's immediate concern was the public distribution of Soviet films in India. During colonial rule, the British administration in India had instituted strict censorship of Soviet films, and distribution had been confined to private screenings for small "progressive" circles. However, India's independence in 1947 changed Soveksportfil'm's prospects in that country. That year, 13 feature films and eight documentary and scientificpopular films from the Soviet Union were screened in India. 12 According to Soveksportfil'm reports, between 1947 and 1954, approximately 130 Soviet feature films were exported to India.13 By 1954, the Soviet Union had invested much effort in cultivating interest in the Soviet Union among sympathizers in the Indian intelligentsia.
A burgeoning interest in Indian fIlms In the years in which the Soviet Union began to acquire friends in the Indian intelligentsia and in the newly independent Indian state, the S.S.C.R. also demonstrated curiosity about Indian cinematography. In the mid-forties, Pudovkin expressed a keen interest in the films, studios, directors, and actors of India. 14 He requested copies ofIndian films, survey articles on Indian cinema, photographs of film actors and directors, stills from Indian
11 GARF, f. R-5283, 0.19, d. 141,1.29 (1944); f. R-5283, 0.19, d. 155, l.l (1944). 12 Rossiisskii Gosudarstvennyi Ar/chiv Literatury j Iskusstva (RGALI), f. 2918, o. 1, d. 27, I. 1-4. 13 RGALI, f. 2918, 0.1, d. 32, I. 16 (1955); f. 2918, 0.1, d. 27, I. 1-4. 14 GARF, f. R-5283, o. 19, d. 141, I. 29 (1944).
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films, and press cuttings on cinema. 15 S.S.C.R representatives in India also expressed concern about the state ofIndian cinematography. Their reports bemoaned 'bourgeois' influences in Indian popular cinema, evident in its plots and its star system, but followed developments on the Indian cinematic scene with interest. 16 This new curiosity about Indian cinema inspired the visit of Pudovkin and Nikolai Cherkasov to India in early 1951. Everywhere, Indian cinematographers addressed the guests, expressing the hope that Indian cinema would attain the artistic level of Soviet cinema and the wish to learn from the Soviet "masters of cinema.,,17 With this visit, Indo-Soviet film exchanges acquired new momentum. In 1951, cultural delegations from India began to pay regular visits to the Soviet Union. That year, a group of Indian film professionals visited Kiev, met with Ukrainian film personalities and visited studios, cultural establishments, and educational centers. The Indian representatives lamented the lack of state help for cinema in India, and praised the Soviet state's commitment to filmmaking. The delegation later visited film studios in Moscow and Leningrad, and returned to India with glowing tributes to Soviet cinematic accomplishment. 18 Like S.S.C.R, Soveksportfil'm was keen on becoming acquainted with filmmakers and studios in India in the immediate pre- and post-independence years. Its early records also included write-ups on India's independence and the state of Indian cinematography at the time. In the early fifties, representatives of Soveksportfil'm sent synopses of Hindi films running in Bombay theaters. 19 Reports also demonstrated a keen interest in the Indian film
15 GARF. f. R·5283. o. 19. d. 155,1. I (1946). 16 GARF, f. R·5283, o. 19, d. 177, 1. 4· 14 (1950). 17RGAU, f.2918,o.2,d.100(l951). 18 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 2, d. 100, l. 102 (1951). 19 RGAU, f. 2918, o. 2, d. 100, I. 1·39 (1950·51).
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press, whose journals were classified as either anti- or pro-Soviet.2o Soveksportfil'm kept a close watch on leading film personalities, particularly if it seemed the westem media or western audiences were paying attention to them. When prominent Indian actor Ashok Kumar traveled to London to distribute Indian films, Soveksportfil'm procured a translation of an article about the visit that appeared in the London Standard in October 1951.21 In 1949, at Pudovkin's behest, Soveksportfil'm imported 'The Uprooted' (Chinnamoo[IObezdolennye),22 the first Indian film purchased for screening in Soviet
theaters. In 1951, the second Indian film, 'Children of the Earth' (Dharti ke LallDeti zemlz), appeared in Soviet theaters. Both were exemplary of the early 'progressive' films that presaged the art cinema movement of the sixties, and were subjected to critical reviews in the Soviet press.23 However, neither questionnaire respondents nor the interviewees remembered these as the first Indian films in the Soviet Union, instead giving that distinction to the first Indian popular films they watched in 1954.
Mutual admiration: the festival of 1954
The hitherto expressed mutual admiration was given full expression in the first Indian film festival in the Soviet Union in September 1954 (possibly the fITst foreign film festival after the death of Stalin), remembered as a landmark event by viewers in their retrospective assessments of Indian popular cinema.
20 ibid., I. 40. 21 ibid., I. 78. 22 The original title of the film (in Hindi, Bengali, Tamil or any other Indian language) is placed in parentheses followed by the Russian title. See Appendix III for brief descriptions of Indian 'progressive' and art films cited in this text; they are listed in order of appearance in the text. 23 See Chapter 3 for critical reviews of these films.
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The films demonstrated at the festival were mainstream, popular films, such as Khwaja Ahmed Abbas/Raj Kapoor's 'The Vagabond' (AwaraIBrodiaga)/4 Bimal Roy's 'Two Acres of Land' (Do Bigha Zaminl Dva bigha zemli), Chetan Anand's 'Storms' (AandhiyanIUragan) and Abbas' 'Two leaves and a Bud' (Rahil Ganga). As noted in the Introduction, these 'social films' were concerned with issues of social justice in the context of urbanization, the impoverishment of the countryside and other problems inherited by independent India. These films' directors brought to the Indian film industry the ideological persuasions of the I.P.T.A, to which many of them belonged in the fifties. Their early works evinced the influence of socialism, entirely in keeping with post-independence India's political ethos. Their films represented a range of narrative tendencies, from the socialistrealist 'Two Acres of Land,' to the social-critical melodrama exemplified by the films 'The Vagabond' and 'Storms.' The films were well received by an sections of the public - the 'mass audience' and the critics. In their questionnaires, Indian film admirers recalled that queues to purchase festival tickets were long and shows were sold out. Others specifically remembered the 'extraordinary interest' of moviegoers in this festival. In fact, the press reported viewer turnout faithfully and recorded the mass popularity of these films. 25 It was reported that in the first four days of the festival almost a million viewers had attended the shows. In Leningrad, more than half a million viewers had attended the first four days of the festival there. 26 The general audience was not alone in its appreciation for the films. As we shall see in the following chapter, critics agreed that the films were truly 'humanistic' and found the
24 See Appendix II for the list of Indian popular films cited in the text of this dissertation. 25 "Uspekhfestivalia illdiisldkhfil'mov." Izvestiia, 25 September 1954; "Uspekhfestivalia indiisldkh kinofll'mov," Trl/d,27 September 1954; "Million zriteiei, na festivale indiiskikhfil 'mov," Vecherniaia Moskva, 27 September 1954. 26 "Bol'shoi uspekh indiiskikh kinofil'mov," Pravda. 24 September 1954.
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use of song and dance sequences to be a specific 'cultural feature' that deserved praise. The festival was also a showcase ofIndian culture; Indian art exhibits and dance concerts preceded the film screenings.27 The reading rooms and foyers of theaters displayed Indian literature and information on the film art ofIndia.28 The festival, both a forum for cinema and diplomacy, provided plenty of opportunity for expressions of 'friendship.' The Indian film guests made all the mandatory stops at sites of Soviet achievement and monumentalism. In Moscow, the Indian guests participated in three get-togethers with spectators in the 'Udamik' and 'Forum' film theaters. They visited the Kremlin, the Palace of Culture, the Tretiakov gallery, the Lenin mausoleum and met with members ofS.S.C.R. The Soviet hosts also organized get-togethers with Soviet composers and literary figures. The Indian film personalities visited the Soviet Institute of Cinematography (VGIK), the world's first film institute, to talk with directors and instructors and review students' work; Raj Kapoor, reportedly, took copious notes on this visit. The delegation traveled to Leningrad, Tashkent, Stalingrad, and Sochi?9 The Soviet press was flooded with photographs of the visitors being greeted warmly by school students, film professionals, writers and journalists. Both sides exchanged words of praise and thanks at every opportunity. Indian actors spoke of the tremendous welcome they had received and claimed that it outshone the reception they were accorded in other countries. They pointed out the influence of Soviet cinematography on their work, and Soviets talked of their new friends in India.30 In a press conference, Raj Kapoor regretted that despite his recent promotional tour to the United 27 RGALI, f. 2918, o. I, d. 30, I. 28-35 (1954).
28 "UspekhJestivalia indiiskikhfil'mov," ]zvestiia, 25 September 1954. 29 RGALI, f. 2918, o. I, d. 30, 1.2, 6 (1954).
30 "Dobro pozholavat, ' dorogie druz 'ia!," Sovetskaia Kul'lura, 23 September 1954; "Ot 'ezd iz Leningrada deiatelei indiiskogo kino," Leningradskaia Pravda, 6 October 1954; "Vstrechi indiiskikh masterov kino s zriteliami," Smena, 6 October 1954.
132 States, American distributors continued to marginalize Indian cinema. This he contrasted with the Soviet Union, where he found expressions of friendship and respect to be "genuine." Millions of Soviet people had watched and discussed the festival films, and Kapoor considered reaching such a broad public a director or actor's best reward. 31 Other members of the Indian delegation stated they had acquired 'millions of new friends.' Filmmaker Abbas, whose socialist credentials made him a favorite of the Soviet press, revealed his biases clearly in a separate interview, where he stated that of aU the imported films in India only Soviet films should be dubbed. Dubbing foreign films in regional languages ofIndia would substantially increase their distribution across rural India, and thus give an even larger public access to these films. Abbas clearly thought that such facilities must be extended only to Soviet films, so that a wide public would be exposed to the 'right' films. 32 Others in the delegation rubbished cold war rhetoric, claiming to have experienced a "curtain of flowers and not an iron curtain.,,33 The Indian visitors met with young pioneers, learnt winning phrases in Russian (,Ia liubliu sovetsldi narod) and obliged crowds on the streets with renditions of songs from their films. 34 All in all, it was quite the mutual admiration society. Official speeches indicated that the festival was only the beginning of an enduring relationship between the two countries. The Soviet Minister of Culture praised the festival films for being "national" in form, with "themes and ideas ... accessible and comprehensible to Soviet viewers." He spoke of the Soviets' deep interest in Indian culture and its literature, adding:
31 RGALI, f. 2918,0.1, d. 30, I. 126-31. 32 RGALI, f. 2918, 0.1, d. 30, I. 43-55 (1954). 33 M. Nechaeva, "Festival' kinofil'mov respubliki lndii," lskusstvo Kino I J (1954): 114.
34 "My mozhem i dolzhny otstoiat' mil'," Vechernii Leningrad, 5 October 1954; "Poslantsy indiiskogo naroda," Moskovskii Komsomolets, 21 April 1955.
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Not only are the doors of studios, theaters and museums open to the Indian actors but also the hearts of Soviet viewers. This wi11lead to a further strengthening of IndoSoviet ties. 35 The festival and the atmosphere of goodwill it created went a long way in sustaining film trade between the two countries, even after Bombay films began to display less of the social ethos of early post-independence India. In the year after the festival, the first Prime Minister of independent India, Jawaharlal Nehru, visited the Soviet Union and was welcomed with a reception unprecedented in its scale. Nehru was the first Asian head of state to visit the Soviet Union since 1928. The Indian prime minister was invited to speak to an audience of approximately one hundred thousand people in Dinamo stadium in Moscow; never before had a foreign, non-communist head of state addressed a Soviet audience directly. 36 Nehru's visit marked the strengthening of ties between the two countries and, specifically, provided yet another impulse for trade in film.
By 1954, the Soviet Union had used cinema to identify its sympathizers in Indian cultural organizations and had effected the regular export of films to India. Simultaneously, it had become acquainted with Indian cinema of the immediate post-independence period; its interest in that cinema was encouraged by the success of the 1954 festival. The initial mutual admiration between Nehru's India and the Soviet Union of the Khrushchev era had created fertile ground for film trade. The following section will assess whether it was this mutual admiration or other pragmatic considerations that guided policy making on the Indian and Soviet side.
35 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 1, d. 30, 1. 28-35 (1954). 36 Zafar Imam, Ideology and Reality in Soviet Policy in Asia: Indo Soviet Relations 1947-60 (Delhi: Kalyani Publishers, 1975), 65, 80-83; JA Naik, Soviet Policy Towards India: From Stalin to Brezhnev (Delhi: Vikas Publications, 1970), 85.
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SECTION II
WHY INDIAN MELODRAMAS? A cultural presence in India and Indian entertainment at home
This section considers the decision-making that shaped the import and screening of Indian melodramas in Soviet theaters, and examines Soviet interest in sustaining the purchase of Indian melodramas for almost four decades. What were the policy considerations that allowed Soviet spectators to access and enjoy Indian melodramas until 1991?
The decision makers Goskino oversaw the import and export of films through Soveksportfil'm's regional offices in foreign countries. Indian and other foreign films underwent a preview and selection process before they were finally approved for import by the relevant authorities in the Soviet Union. Soveksportfil'm classified countries from which it imported and to which it exported its films into three categories: socialist, capitalist and developing countries. Over the years, reports were filed on the state of local cinemas, and the assistance Soviets could offer to cinematography in developing and socialist countries. In the early years, Soveksportfil'm even kept tabs on political developments in these countries. In its files, India was classified as a 'capitalist' and, on occasion, a 'developing' country. Until 1965, for every film that Soveksportfil'm wished to import, it required permission from the secretariat of the Central Committee. In 1965, the Communist Party Central Committee granted authority to Goskino and Soveksportfil'm to select foreign films
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for import, but specified the guidelines for importing foreign films. Goskino was to acquaint Soviet viewers with the best works of 'progressive' filmmakers abroad and not allow "bourgeois propaganda" on Soviet screens. The ideological department of the Central Committee would keep a close watch over the process. 37 In the film trade with India, an annual plan formulated at Soveksportfil'm in Moscow was communicated to regional offices in India. The plan outlined the many spheres in which cinematic ties with India could be strengthened. These potential areas for improved trade ties included the export of Soviet films and the import of Indian films, the distribution of Soviet films in India, and the organization of film events and festivals in India and the Soviet Union. The annual plan required that Soveksportfil'm import an average of 8-10 Indian films annually. Soveksportfil'm's offices in India then previewed and selected films to be sent onward to Moscow. In Moscow, films from capitalist countries were subjected to the scrutiny of the 'Selection committee for films from capitalist countries' (Kommissiia po otboru fil'mov iz kapstran). The committee consisted of not only Goskino employees, but also
cinematographers, writers, journalists and "responsible" members of the ideological and international organs of the Central Committee. This committee previewed several films a day and made recommendations for the purchase of select films. In theory, the artistic worth and ideological leanings of each film were considered, along with questions of domestic distribution, mutual relationships with foreign distribution firms, and the dynamics of the world market. However, films of certain 'friendly' countries such as India were always
37 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 5, d. 283, 1. 40-42 (1965).
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selected. 38 Viewers' letters about films from capitalist countries were sometimes forwarded to the committee, so they would know what audiences thought of their selection.39 If the committee approved the films sent from Soveksportfil'm's regional offices, their decision was communicated to Goskino. The purchase of the films followed. The films were purchased exclusively from independent Indian filmmakers and distributors until 1963. In that year, the Government ofIndia instituted a new organization, the Indian Motion Picture Export Corporation (lMPEC), to deal with all matters of film import and export. IMPEC had the responsibility of promoting exports and conducting negotiations with foreign fmns. Henceforth, Soveksportfil'm would have to negotiate mainly with IMPEC, but could also purchase films from certain independent film firms in India. In 1980, IMPEC was absorbed into the National Film Development Corporation (NFDC) in India, and Soveksportfil'm negotiated chiefly with this new organization in the last decade of Indian film import. Once Soveksportfil'm and Goskino selected and purchased foreign films, copies were submitted to the Department of Cinematization and Film Release (Otdel kinofikatsii i kinoprokata) in Moscow. This department planned theater repertoires, the number of showings in the various regions and the publicity aspects of film distribution. Its employees "determined how interesting the theme of the film was, to which demographic it would most appeal (urbani rural! and district), how many copies would be printed depending on the artistic worth of the film and an estimate of the number of viewers it would draw.'.40 The
38 Yuri Kolosov was the Soveksportfil'm representative on this selection committee for many years. He remembers that approximately 100 members participated in the viewing and selection process. According to him, the committee watched several films in fast-forward; otherwise, it would have been impossible to watch so many films in a day. Kolosov, conversation with author, Moscow, September 2001. 39 RGALI, f. 2944, 0.1, d. 534, I. 56-57 (1968). 40 Vera Gribanova, conversation with author, Moscow, October 2002.
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maximum number of copies that could be distributed in the entire country was two thousand; this rule applied to both domestic and foreign films. 41 Soviet festival circuits were another point of entry for foreign films in the Soviet Union. Film diplomacy received a boost under Khrushchev and Brezhnev with the resumption of the Moscow Film Festival in 1957, and the inauguration of the Asian and African film festival in Tashkent in 1968. The Soviet state recognized the importance of holding international forums such as festivals, as a means of furthering its foreign policy goals. Held every two years, both festivals ensured periodic forums for film diplomacy. Organizers and participants considered the festivals to be the most representative of all international film festivals. For instance, it was believed that the Moscow film festival, unlike "bourgeois film festivals," was a forum where the work of Asian and African filmmakers was taken seriously.42 These festivals organized markets or rynoks (the kino-rynok), where films were bought and sold. The first such festival rynok in the Soviet Union was held as part of the Moscow International Film Festival of 1967. 43 A similar rynokwas a feature of the Tashkent film festival. Soveksportfil'm issued invitations to film producers and distributors in various countries and promised appropriate facilities for the screening of films and for the conclusion of agreements. Films selected for screening in the festivals were also first selected by Soveksportfil'm's offices abroad. Films previewed by Soveksportfil'm in India, for instance,
41 Val S. Go]ovskoy, Behind the Soviet screen: the motion-picture industry in the USSR, 1972-1982, trans. Steven Hill (Ann Arbor, Mich.: Ardis, 1986), 48.
42 Rossiisskii Gosudarstvennyi Arkhiv Noveishchei Istorii (RGAN!), f. 5, o. 5838, d. 81, I. 59 (1958); f. 5, o. 61, d. 89, 1.76-79 (1969-1970). See Chapter 3 for a discussion of Indian film professionals' perception of these festivals. 43 L. Cohen, The Culrural-Political Traditions and Developments o/the Soviet Cinema 1917-1972 (New York: Amo Press, 1974), 599.
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were sent forward to the organizing committee of the festivals, which worked under the aegis ofSovinterfest (also a department within GoskinO).44 The committee (in Moscow or Tashkent), consisting of approximately 15 members, watched the films and issued a fmal report that summarized the film plot and made recommendations based on deliberations. Besides choosing films for the festival program, the festival committee also recommended some previewed films for distribution in theaters, at once specifying the regions and cities suitable for the distribution ofthe purchased films. Films recommended as entries for the award categories were usually also found suitable for purchase.45 Sometimes, films rejected for the official festival program were still considered for informational screening at the festival or for purchase for distribution in theaters.46 On occasion, reports concluded that a film must be purchased for theater distribution in the Soviet Union, but hastened to add that only screenings outside Moscow were recommended. 47 Regrettably, these reports are perfunctory and do not explain the criteria that motivated the festival committees' selection and rejection decisions.
Film trade with India The correspondence between Soveksportfil'm officials in Bombay and Moscow, annual plans prescribed by Goskino, and reports submitted from the 'field' to Moscow headquarters suggest that the import of Indian films met two goals. First, the purchase of Indian films allowed the simultaneous distribution of Soviet films in India, a region of strategic importance to the Soviet Union. Second, the import of melodramas met domestic 44 Its records are not all accessible, but based on the few that are now declassified it is possible to understand the process by which films were selected for festivals and, if considered worthy, for theater repertoires in the Soviet Union. 45 RGALI, f. 3159, o. 1, del0 11,1. 37 (1979). 46 RGALI, f. 3159, o. 1, del0 14, I. 134,1.140 (1979). 47 RGALI, f. 3159, o. I,d. 14, 1. 136. (1979).
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audiences' need for entertaining cinema. Here, I discuss both imperatives that guided Soviet patronage of Indian popular films.
a. Staying visible in India The purpose of the film trade for the Soviet Union was primarily to maintain a highprofile cultural presence in India. The Soviet state did not underestimate the value of cinema as a propaganda tool. It was one of the most mass scale/wide scale forms of art and it exercised a "powerful and active political, moral, aesthetic and ethnic influence on the broadest masses," which helped the spread of socialism. 48 Soveksportfil'm's concern with political events in the world, occasionally reflected in reports, testified to the link between Soviet foreign policy and its film-related activities abroad. 49 In India, however, Soviet diplomatic moves had nothing to do with hastening India on the path to communism. The Soviet Union accommodated India's political system, and non-aligned India often refused to offer unquestioning support to the Soviet Union on international issues. Instead, the Soviet Union's continued support and aid to the 'bourgeois' regime of India testified to the "pre-eminence of the foreign policy criterion in determining Soviet policy toward India." Aside from the geographical and political importance of nonaligned India, it was fear of Chinese hegemony in Asia and western influences in India that sustained Soviet interest in the Indo-Soviet relationship.5o By the seventies, when China, Japan and Pakistan joined forces against the Soviet Union, the Soviet state considered India its principal friend and ally in Asia. The support of India, the "largest non-socialist country in
48 RGALl, f. 2918, o. 7, d. 330, I. 2 (1977). 49 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 8, d. 458, I. 2-19 (1979).
50 Robert H. Donaldson, Soviet Policy Toward India: Ideology and Strategy (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1974), 183.
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the world," had "considerable psychological importance" for the Soviet state, and immense propaganda value for Soviet international and domestic politics. 51 Given the state's acceptance of the non-communist government in India, Soviet propagandistic inclinations were tempered by the simple, pragmatic desire to have a noticeable cultural presence in that country. The Soviet state's activities in India reflected its need for recognition and support in that country. An infonnation department attached to the Soviet consulate began to engage in propagandistic work as early as 1954. The Novosti agency in New Delhi bore the responsibility of distributing articles on Soviet achievements in the fields of culture, politics and economics to Indian publications. Soviet radio broadcasts to India began in the fifties, but were not overly propagandist; they were mostly news reports, Indian music programs and Russian language lessons. 52 An evaluation of the success of Soviet strategic cultural policy in India falls beyond the purview of this dissertation, but it is of interest to consider the ways in which the Soviet state sought to consolidate its presence in India through cinema.
Staying visible in India: 1954-1963 In the initial years of the film trade, Soveksportfil'm recognized the importance of importing Indian films as a means to achieving Soviet film distribution in India. The Soviet Union's desire to be a cinematic presence of reckoning in India is demonstrated in its insistence on reciprocity in the film trade, its anxiety about Soviet film exports and its assessments of the Soviet position in India.
5 j Peter J.S. Duncan. The Soviet Union and India (London: Routledge, 1989), 3-5. 52 Arthur Stein, India and the Soviet Union: the Nehru era (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1969),227-230.
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Reciprocity: In the immediate post-Stalinist and Thaw years, despite the success of the first film festival and the warm and amicable exchanges between the two countries, Soveksportfil'm ran into frequent problems in implementing the sale of Soviet films in India. The course of these negotiations was hardly smooth, even when dealing with ideologically like-minded Indian filmmakers. In 1955, the first stirrings of displeasure became evident on the Indian side. Indian film firms had sent 11 films to the Soviet Union and the Soviet side had only selected 2 films. Furthermore, the Indian films that had been rejected had not been returned to their producers. 53 It was also proving cumbersome to get Indian film producers to buy Soviet films in
exchange and to acquire their guarantee on the films' distribution in India. In the fifties, Indian film producers did not have their own distribution networks or firms, and could not guarantee the distribution of the Soviet films they purchased from Soveksportfil'm. 54 On one occasion, a reputed Indian popular film director B.R. Chopra offered his film 'The New Road' (Naya DaurlNovaia Doroga) and agreed to buy a Soviet film in exchange. However, he could not ensure its distribution and Soviet trade representatives quickly suspended negotiations. 55 Soveksportfil'm officials' choice of films on several occasions demonstrated the primacy of Soviet film distribution in trade considerations. Soveksportfil'm persuaded the committee in Moscow to increase its purchase ofIndian films, despite their "poor quality," as this was the most effective way for Soviet films to penetrate theaters in India.36 Its
53 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 3, d. 26, I. 14 (1956). 54 RGALl, f. 2918, o. 3, d. 27,1. 34-62 (1957). 55 RGALl, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 51, l. I, (1961). 56 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 3, d. 29, I. 87-89 (1958).
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representatives recommended buying 'Biraj Bahu' (Bira) Bahu/Bira} Bahu)57 because the film's producer was interested in distributing Soviet films in India. On another occasion, Soveksportfil'm recommended buying the historical film 'Mirza Ghalib,' (Mirza Ghalib/ Mirza Ghalib) as its producer Sorab Modi owned a distributing fIrm in India. 58 Certain Indian
trading partners could also guarantee distribution of a Soviet film in a third country. For example, between 1957 and 1959, Soveksportfil'm recommended buying 2 Indian films from International Film Distributors in India because this fIrm would purchase 2 Soviet films and guarantee their distribution in East Africa, Aden, Bahrain and Fiji. 59 More than a consideration of plot, theme or ideological or aesthetic suitability of an Indian film, it was the reciprocal promise of the purchase and distribution of a Soviet film that guided many import decisions of the film trade department. One of the few filmmakers or producers in India allowed room to maneuver by Soveksportfil'm was Raj Kapoor. In 1956, Raj Kapoor expressed his displeasure with Soviet film trade representatives for not offering him an adequate price for his film 'Mr. 420,' even though 'The Vagabond' had raised high revenues in the Soviet Union. Soveksportfil'm fInally bought the film at Kapoor's price because of the immense propaganda and commercial value of the purchase; Kapoor's films were usually popular with Soviet moviegoers, and the purchase would strengthen Soviet ties with this important Indian personality and therefore, with the Indian film world. 6o In 1964, Raj Kapoor offered his film 'Under Cover of Night' (Jagte Raho / Pod pokrovom nochi) for Soviet purchase, but warned that he could not buy Soviet films, since he had no distribution company of his own.
57 Certain titles, especialJy when proper nouns, remained unaltered in the Soviet market. 58 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 3. d. 25, 1. 13 (1955). 59 RGALI, f. 2918. o. 3, d. 29, l. 89 (1958). 60 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 3, d. 26, l. 26-31 (1956).
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However, he promised to screen select Soviet films to a few potential distributors and once again Soveksportfil'm conceded to act on his terms. 61 Unlike Kapoor, most Indian filmmakers and distributors were reluctant to assume any role in screening Soviet films. Problems at the negotiating table caused the Soviets to consider an official mutual exchange treaty at the end of the fifties as a solution. The first recommendations for a treaty were made in 1957, when Goskino advised that henceforth Indian films would be bought in film producing centers, and stipulated that such purchases must be reciprocated by the purchase of Soviet films in India.62 It was generally agreed that such a mutual exchange agreement was the most expedient means to effect distribution of Soviet cinema in India.63 In 1960, Soveksportftl'm received its first detailed plan for activities in the upcoming year. According to the plan, Soveksportfil'm was required to hire a theater in Bombay for 10 weeks, to release 15 feature films and 60 documentary films that year in India, to discuss the planning of a week of Soviet films in Nepal and to buy 6 Indian films for the Soviet Union. This was the first annual plan for Soveksportfil'm that clearly specified the number of Indian films to be purchased and the number of Soviet films to be sold to India. 64
The urgency offilm trade:
The need to expedite Soviet film sales to India was often prompted by concern about American competition in politically important markets for Soviet films. Apart from commercial considerations, Soveksportftl'm's perception was that 'reactionary circles' in
61 RGALI,f. 2918, o. 4, d. 147,1. 64-66 (1964). 62 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 3, d. 27, I. 80 (1957). 63 RGALI, f. 2918, 0.3, d. 29, I. 89 (1958). 64 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 30 (1960).
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India were concerned about the growing Soviet influence in India. Soviet trade representatives believed that Indian distributors considered American films more desirable than Soviet films due to the greater revenues they raised. In addition, Soveksportfil'm felt unable to compete with the United States in the Indian market because of what it perceived as the reluctance of the Indian government to allow the dubbing of Soviet films in local languages. 65 American films required no dubbing in Indian urban centers and, thus, had a decided advantage over Soviet films. Soveksportfil'm's concern about its effectiveness in India was only exacerbated by the low audience turnout for Soviet films. Between 1950 and 1954, the audience for Soviet films in India averaged two thousand viewers per annum. 66 Results were even more dismal in 1961 when nine Soviet film festivals held in India earned lower revenues than in preceding years. 67 The efforts of other contenders to win Indian favors were also reported with urgency to the center. When American film industry representatives visited India in 1959 to promise the screening ofIndian films in the United States and support in case of an Indian war with China, Soveksportfil 'm representatives reported this visit to Moscow headquarters. 68 Indian actors' visits to the west were followed with keen interest. Soveksportfil'm reported Raj Kapoor's joint production with the French, the German initiative in assisting India in technical production, the successful endeavors of the English in promoting their cinema in
65 RGALl, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 28, 1.1-2 (1959). 66 RGALI, f. 2918, 0.1, d. 32, 1..16 (1955). Soveksportfil'm did not record audience turnout for Soviet films in India consistently. These are the only years for which they collected the data, and subsequent annual reports carried no evaluations of the viewership for Soviet films in India. 67 RGALl, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 33, 1.14-15 (1961). 68 RGALl, f. 2918, 0.4, d. 145, l. 161-162 (1962).
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India and the making of joint productions between India, Italy and Iran. Soveksportfil'm considered this to be threatening competition and a source of anxiety.69 The only measure to combat this strategic rivalry with other countries was to expedite Soviet film sales to India.
Effecting Soviet film export Effecting Soviet film trade, however, was not simply a matter of sending Soviet films to sympathetic cultural organizations, as in pre-independence India. Already in 1958 Indian film ftrIlls, accusing the Soviets of being no different from the "exploitative" Americans, complained that the Soviet side sold more films to India than it purchased from Indian film firms. 7oAlthough the Soviet Union insisted on reciprocity in 1960, it failed to honor the terms of trade consistently in the initial years of this agreement. 71 The situation was so patently unfavorable to the Indians that even Soveksportfil'm officials were forced to urge Moscow to increase the purchase of Indian films. 72 Soviet film exports to India were beginning to suffer because the Indian government treated Soveksportfil'm with more circumspection than earlier. Every year that the Soviet Union imported fewer films from India, the Indian government granted fewer licenses for the Soviet Union to bring its films to India (table 1).
69 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 146,1.50-55 (1963). 70 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 3, d. 29, 1. 89 (1958). 71 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 145,1. 64 (1962). 72 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 51, 1. 33-34 (1961).
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Table 1: Export licenses for bilateral trade, 1960-1965 License
Licenses granted for Soviet
Exported to India
Imported from India
period
rum import
(rum footage)
(film footage)
1960/61
150000
149,302
182,625
1961162
400000
398,123
42,000
1962/63
200000
198,108
173,058
1963/64
400000
253,000
45,000
285,626
160,860
300000
1964/65
,
Source: Soveksportfil m annual report for 1965.
73
In 1960-61, import from India exceeded export to India and the Indian government rewarded the Soviet Union with a license to bring in 400000 ft of film footage into India the next year. In 1961-62, however, exports to India outstripped import by a wide margin. Soveksportfil'm was promptly cut to size by the Indian government, which halved the quota the Soviet side could export to India the following year. When in 1962-63 export and import were in balance, the Indian government once more granted the Soviet side licenses to bring in 400000 ft of film. However, Soveksportfil'm exported 6 times as much as it imported from India the following year, and India once again reduced the licensed quota for Soviet export of films to India in the year 1964-65. 74 By 1964, the Soviet Union was permitted the export of only 7 films to India, as opposed to 12 films in 1961.75 Only a fair balance between export and import would improve India's disposition towards Soviet trade officials. The obstacles in the way of establishing a cinematic presence in India continued even after the export of Soviet films. Once exported, Soveksportfil'm also had to ensure that Soviet films were widely distributed in several regional centers of India. Since 1960, Soviet film distribution had acquired a commercial character (earlier film distribution had been 73 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 5, d. 365,1. 20-21 (1965). 74 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 5, d. 311, 1. 28-31 (1965). 75 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 5, d. 13,1. 1-4 (1965).
147
through friendship societies and film finns for non-commercial screenings). The new commercial nature of Soviet film distribution was not beneficial to the Soviet Union. As the films it exported were of little lucrative value, it was proving impossible to find interested distributors and theater owners in India. 76 The business of increasing Soviet film activities in India was difficult. It was patently dear that only one measure could motivate an interest in India in purchasing Soviet films the regular purchase of Indian films for distribution in the Soviet Union. Soveksportfil'm, at its wits' end in 1963, wrote urgently to Goskino that the Soviet side must import a greater number ofIndian films, if it desired to increase its own exports to India once again?7
Staying visible in India: 1964-1984 Under Brezhnev, the priority ofincreasing Soviet cultural visibility in India was again manifested in Soveksportfil'm's concern about film exports to India and in their evaluations of the 'success' of their plans. Between 1965 and 1984, on the occasions that the Indian side seemed less than eager to accommodate Soviet activities there or when American cultural activities seemed more high profile than their own, Soveksportfil'm urged one solution. This was the more efficient conduct of Soviet film export and distribution, in tum dependent on a fair import policy regarding Indian films.
Reciprocity reaffirmed: Under Brezhnev, bilateral treaties and cultural exchanges between the two countries gradually bolstered relations between the two countries. The Soviet Union and India
76 RGALI, f. 2918, 0.5, d. 253, L 0 (1964). 77 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 146, l. 92-97 (1963).
148
concluded a cultural agreement in 1966 to encourage continued exchanges in sport, education, social welfare, medicine, art and cinema. In 1971, India and the Soviet Union signed the historic Indo-Soviet Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Cooperation, which would be operative for 20 years. A strategic and politically significant act, it firmly sealed the IndoSoviet alliance. In 1973, there were 800 Soviet film shows and 22 Soviet film festivals in India. 78 In 1967, a new agreement was signed between Soveksportfil'm and IMPEC/Ministry ofTrade/the Indian ministry of Infonnation & Broadcasting, reaffinning reciprocity in film trade. There was to be no limit on the number of films exported and imported. However, the buying party would have to screen the purchased films within 9 months of receiving copies and supplementary materials; otherwise, the party adversely affected by the delay could terminate the relevant sale and distribution agreement. Soveksportfil'm would also be able to bring Soviet films to India through distribution finns other than IMPEC and deal directly with theaters. 79 In 1970, the agreement with IMPEC was renewed for another five years. All the clauses remained the same. Only now, the Soviet Union could bring in 25 films every year (5 copies each), and in turn would buy Indian films for 800,000 Indian rupees (rs.) (96000 rubles); the average price of an Indian film was 150-200,000 rs. 80 That year, the director of IMPEC also mooted the idea of a 'purchasing commission' (zakupochnaia kommissiia) that could visit India once or twice a year. It could be fully empowered to take immediate decisions, a measure that would greatly facilitate the process of purchase and import. 81 Two
78 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 7, d. 193,1. 3-4 (1974). 79 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 148,1. 30-31 (1965). 80 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 152, I. 8 (1970). 81 ibid. 1. 18.
149
additional Soveksportfil'm offices were opened in Madras and Calcutta in the seventies to facilitate Soviet cinematic activities in cities other than Bombay. In 1981, a cultural agreement between India and the Soviet Union reaffirmed co-operation in cinematography. This cooperation would include mutual film trade, film weeks in both countries, participation in each other's festivals, joint film productions, and mutual technical and creative assistance during the shooting of films. 82
The urgency of./Urn trade: In the Brezhnev period, the urgency of the film trade was heightened in the face of American cultural activities in India. Soviet trade officials were anxious about the competition they faced in American films, which were the most popular foreign films in India, second only to India's own productions. Soveksportfil'm reports often expressed regret that even the most 'untruthful' American films were screened in Indian theaters, their presence enhanced by their large advertising apparatus. Soviet film trade representatives found their own work ineffective in countering the American presence in India. 83 The screening of the Hitchcock film 'Topaz' in India in 1970 was cause for much concern among Soveksportfil'm officials, and the subject of frenzied correspondence between Goskino and the Communist Party Central Committee. For Soviet authorities, this film about one of their scientists who defects to the United States was clearly hostile. Goskino attributed the screening of 'Topaz' in India to the emergence of 'reactionary,' anti-Soviet tendencies in the Indian press, and the effect of American propaganda in India. Officials caned on expanded
82 F .T. Ermash. "Novy! etap sovetsko-indiiskogo sotrudnichestva i sodruzhestva kinematograjii." Islwsstvo Kino 4 (1981): 150154. 83 RGALI. f. 2944. o. 13, d. 786, I. 48-49 (1966).
150
efforts to fight such problems through diplomatic channels, "friends" of the Soviet Union, and the 'progressive' press in India. 84
Buttressing their presence:
Constantly confronted with the presence of America on the Indian cultural scene, Soviet policy makers urged more film activities in India. Goskino found that cinema was inadequately 'exploited' in Indo-Soviet ties. Its report concluded that Soveksportfil'm activities in India reflected an underestimation ofIndia, "a major and very distinctive partner in the field of film exchanges," "both as a country with a highly developed film industry and at the same time, a country where the presence of westem cinema is far from negligible."s5 An early report of the Soviet consulate in India, sent to the Central Committee in
1965, once again underscored the importance of Soviet film sales in India. It stated that Soviet films served as an important form of propaganda by promoting Soviet achievements in economics, science and culture and reflecting the Soviet Union's ''peaceful foreign policy." The report therefore advised more regular film export to India, and facilities to dub Soviet films in regional Indian languages to supplement the English dubbing services in India. Additionally, it was recommended that Soveksportfil'm hold regular Soviet film festivals in India and facilitate interaction between Soviet and Indian film personalities. Moreover, it was argued that Soveksportfil'm needed access to more advertising materials for Soviet films and other information. American and Indian films had an arsenal of publicity materials and Soveksportfil'm was unable to hold its own in the Indian market, given its scarce resources. The same report went on to propose concluding an agreement with the Information &
84 RGANI, f. 5, o. 62, d. 91, I. 111-113 (1970). 85 RGANI, f. 5, o. 62, d.91, I. 80-82 (1970).
151
Broadcasting Ministry in India on widening co-operation in the film field. Recommendations were made to facilitate a series of documentary films on Indo-Soviet co-operation, to invite representatives of larger Indian firms to Moscow to view and select films, and to increase Soviet exports to 10-15 feature films per annum. 86 Soveksportfil'm considered hiring theaters in India that would guarantee showings of Soviet films.87 Continuing their efforts to solidify Soviet cinematic influence in India, Goskino representatives often advised that the Soviet Union actively cultivate the intelligentsia in Indian cities. Western recognition and appreciation for Indian art cinema and the increasing role western countries were playing in film circles in India made Soviet overtures to Indian film circles essential to the pursuit of their strategic goals. In 1978, Soviet filmmaker Sergei Gerasimov urged Soviet cinematographers and workers abroad to widen and deepen the ideological struggle in the sphere of cultural relations within Indian social circles. 88 Financial assistance to certain Indian filmmakers also helped buttress the Soviet presence in the face of anti-Communist opposition in India. In 1971, Raj Kapoor released his film 'I am a Clown' (Mera Naam JokerlMenia zovut kloun) in India. The film was partly filmed in Moscow, and included in its cast a leading Soviet actor and members of the Soviet circus. Kapoor became embroiled in a controversy with the Indian trading organization IMPEC, which had reportedly been lax in implementing the distribution of the film. Additionally, some anti-Soviet groups had demonstrated against the showing of the film in Bombay. Kapoor requested Soveksportfil'm to purchase and distribute the ftlrn in the Soviet Union in order to recover some losses incurred due to the film's poor distribution and lukewarm reception in India. He received reassurances from highly placed officials in the 86 RGANI, f. 5, o. 36, d.l54, 1.127-130 (1965). 87 RGALl, f. 2918, o. 4, d.l52, 1.18-27 (1970). 88 RGALl, f.2918, 0.8, d. 419, I. 3-6 (1978).
152
Soviet Ministry of Culture and Goskino in that regard and Soveksportfil'm bought the film. The significance of this gesture for Soviet propagandistic goals in India cannot be underestimated. Such acts were seen to be politically expedient in countering anti-Soviet forces in India. 89 In another instance, Goskino officials specifically recommended close ties with Indian film professionals because they "exercised influence" on the state; such friends were worthy of cultivation in a country of "growing importance" in Asia. 9o Other than befriending Indian film professionals, Soviet film trade representatives and officials held regular events to reinforce co-operation in the cinematic field in the Brezhnev era. A symposium on 'the role of cinema in strengthening friendship between India and the Soviet Union' held during the VII Tashkent film festival in 1982, highlighted the areas of converging interests, the special place of Indian films in Soviet society, and the "growing interest" of Indian audiences in Soviet cinema. 91 At this time, Soviet efforts appeared to bear fruit. In 1984, Soveksportfil'm reported that sections of the Indian press were now printing more favorable reviews of Soviet films than western films, crediting these films with ideas of "peace," "friendship," "humanism" and with facilitating "mutual understanding" between India and the Soviet Union.92 Cinematographers from the Soviet Union visiting India in 1984 commented on the "sincere, friendly overtures" from the Indian cultural intelligentsia in Bombay and Madras. 93 However, the circle of sympathizers was a small one and as long as distribution of Soviet films did not increase, it would remain insignificant. After all, while India purchased 100 American films
89 ROALI, f. 2918, o. 8, d. 27, I. 3-6 (1972). 90 ROALI, f. 2918, o. 7, d. 90, I. 39-43 (1972). 91 L. Budiak, "Ukrepliaia druzhbu i sotrudnichestvo," Iskusstvo Kino, 11 (1982): 148-151. 92 ROALI, f. 2918, 0.8, d. 791, I. 26-28 (1984). 93 ROAN!, f. 5, o. 90, d. 223, I. 75-78 (1984).
153
per annum in the eighties, it only pennitted approximately 20 Soviet films for import each
Effectingfilm exports
During the Brezhnev era, Goskino's desire for untiring efforts to consolidate Soviet cinematic presence in India meant that there was often displeasure at the snail pace of trade talks and the import-export process. Soveksportfil'm reported that measures to strengthen their position in India were hampered by the "discriminating policies" of IMPEC. IMPEC was reportedly disinclined to import Soviet political films and reluctant to grant licenses in 1966, in violation of the Indo-Soviet film trade agreement. 95 Moreover, just as in the Khrushchev era, the increase in exported films had to be matched by effective film distribution in India. Indian efforts to promote Soviet films were found wanting in comparison with Soviet measures in distributing and publicizing Indian films in the Soviet Union. While the Soviet side made 800 copies for distribution of every imported Indian film, India apparently expended little effort in widening promotion of Soviet films. 96 Soviet films suffered a disadvantage when compared with American films, which were shown in approximately 100 theaters in small and large towns and cities in India. 97 Additionally, the Indian government raised the entertainment tax; Soveksportfil'm lamented that this increased ticket prices, reducing viewership and affecting Soviet film screenings in India.98 In the late seventies, the Indian government also raised customs duties for every film
94 Manjunath Pendakur, "India," in The Asian Film Industry, eds. John A. Lent, George S. Semsel, Keiko McDonald, Manjunath Pendakur (London: Christopher Helm (Publishers) Ltd., 1990), 240-241. 95 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 5, d. 365, I. 87-89 (1965). 96 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 4, d. ISO, I. 17 (1967). 97 Manjunath Pendakur, "India," 240-241. 98 RGALI, f. 2918,0 .. 4, d. 151,1. 13-16 (1969).
154
imported into India, once again hampering the Soviet effort to increase film revenue in India. 99
Effecting Indian film import
The only means of winning over the Indian import-export organization and the state was to handle the import of Indian films effectively and fairly. This was a source of debate between Soveksportfil'm and Goskino, but it also placed Soveksportfil'm officials in Moscow and Bombay, center and periphery, at odds with each other. Often, Soveksportfil'm in India complained that Moscow was taking far too long with the paperwork and fmal selection of Indian films and that this in turn was affecting the export of Soviet films to India. In 1975, the Bombay office despaired that Moscow headquarters retained copies ofIndian films for inordinate periods and often returned them to their Indian owners in poor shape. Soveksportfil'm warned that these practices were capable of jeopardizing Soviet ''prestige'' in India. loo Despite these pleas, the process of selection, purchase and import continued to be bogged down by delays and red tape on both sides. IOI It was urged that the purchasing commission or zakupochnaia kommissiia visit India more regularly to facilitate the import of Indian films and, thereby, the export of Soviet films to India. I02 Throughout these years, frequent appeals were made by Soveksportfil'm officials to also consider paying competitive prices for Indian films. Already in 1971, Soveksportfil'm representatives reported that Indian producers considered Soviet prices to be unfairly low, considering they were paid 5 times as much for their films in Singapore, Hong Kong, or Arab
99 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 7, d. 330, 1. 151-155. 100 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 8, d. 189, I. 69-70 (1975). 101 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 8, d. 244, 1. 43-44 (1976). 102 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 8, d. 298, 1. 42-44 (1977).
155
countries. 103 Again in 1982, Soveksportfil'm recommended that Goskino raise the prices it paid for Indian films in accordance with the world market, as this would benefit the conclusion of mutual deals. 104 In the interim between Brezhnev and Gorbachev, Goskino officials also complained that Soveksportfil'm failed to import more than 6-8 Indian commercial films a year, despite the Soviet audience's "steadfast interest" in these "enormously popular" films. These officials, reporting on their visit to India in 1984, gave a clear indication of the strategic significance of the film trade with India when they proposed the following:
Considering the importance of the film exchange between the two countries and the direct dependence of the state's relations on Soveksportfil'm's activities on import, the Soviet Union needs to reconsider the question of raising imports to 12-15 (films) annually. 105
Under Brezhnev, the regular affirmation of ties through treaties and the keenness to expedite film sales to India demonstrated the resolve of the Soviet Union to sustain their cultural presence in India. Once again, in order to maintain that presence in India, Soviet policy makers regularly urged an expeditious and fair import policy with regard to Indian films.
103 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 8, d. 27, 1. 40-46 (1972). 104 Arkhiv via Savekspardil'm, f. 2918, o. 9, d. -, I. 18 (1982)(The files remain uncataloged and unnumbered). 105 Arkhiv vlo Sovekspordil'm, f. 2918, o. 9, d. -, I. 3 (1984).
156
Staying visible in India: 1985-1991 Hectic last years: Between 1985 and 1991, the Soviet cinematic presence in Asia was strongest in India, followed by Japan. 106 In 1985 alone, Soveksportfil'm hired 45 theaters in 35 cities in India, and several Soviet films were dubbed in regional Indian languages. Television and video had also boosted Soviet film distribution in India. lo7 In 1986, seminars were organized to discuss the problems of development in Soviet and Indian cinema. The annual plan for the year recommended the organization of Indian film-weeks in the Soviet Union and a festival of Soviet films in India in November. \08 Indo-Soviet relations were promoted on a large scale, as exemplified by the organization of the Festival oflndia in the Soviet Union, and the Soviet Festival in India in 1987. Soveksportfil'm initiatives were underway for celebrations of the 70th anniversary of the October Revolution, for setting up an Indo-Soviet society that would oversee the distribution/screening of Soviet films in India, and to facilitate the quick signing of contracts and sending of film materials to Moscow (of imported films).109 With the winds of reform blowing in the Soviet Union, film trade ceased to be the sole preserve of Soveksportfil'm and Goskino. The monopoly ofSoveksportfil'm in exportimport negotiations and decision making ended, and its record keeping also diminished. Film import decisions were handled by several film-video organizations by 199L llO Moreover, changing international politics at the end ofthe eighties, especially the withdrawal of the Soviet army from Afghanistan, had consequences for the Soviet Union's
106 RGALl, f. 2918, o. 8, d. 881, l. 26-28 (1986). 107 RGALl, f. 2918,
0 ..
8, d. 777, l. 35 (1985).
108 Arkhiv via Soveksportjil'm, f. 2918, 0.9, d. -, (1986). 109 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 8, d. 902, I. 19-22 (1987). 110 George Faraday, The Revolt of the Filmmakers: the struggle for artistic autonomy and the fall of the Sovietfilm industry (University Park, Penn.: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2000), 140-14 I.
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South Asian policy. India was not of immediate strategic importance to the Soviet Union with the 'end' of the cold war, and in India, a change in foreign policy interests meant that the Soviet Union was less interesting to cultivate as a 'friend.' Soviet film trade with India had one last productive phase before it came to a gradual halt in the early nineties. The film trade was imperative for the Soviet Union in order to maintain a cultural profile in India. Although that explains why the import of Indian films was pursued, it still does not justify the presence of Indian melodramas in Soviet theaters. In the following pages, we will consider which films the Soviet Union imported from India and whose benefit their policy seemed to serve.
b. Importing entertainment: the preference for melodramas Since the 1920s, foreign films in the Soviet Union had frequently met the need for entertainment, which Soviet films either neglected to satisfy or met inadequately. For instance, we saw in Chapter 1 that viewers recalled the predominance and popularity of trophy films in the post-war years. Perhaps the Soviet state wished to divert audiences' attention from the crises of the post-war period, or perhaps these films presented an opportunity to continue raking in the theater revenues in a period of few films. III Nevertheless, Soviet movie audiences' exposure to foreign cinema was short-lived. During the zhdanovshchina, foreign films disappeared from the Soviet theaters; by the early 1950s, there was practically no foreign cinema on the Soviet screen. 112 Until the 1950s, the production system was constructed in a way that suggested a "dictatorship over cultural needs." Due to the state's monopoly over large~scale cultural
III Peter Kenez, Cinema and Soviet Society, 1917-53 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992),213.
112 ibid., 213.
158
production, the audience had little choice but to select from what the state offered. The "more limited the range of cultural products being offered, the greater the state's freedom to ignore actual public demand." 113 This changed in the immediate aftermath of Stalin's death and during the Thaw, when domestic film production increased and the import of films gained new momentum. The state was no longer oblivious to audience preferences; in fact, early Soveksportfil'm records contain viewership statistics of imported films.1I4 In the 1960s, sociological surveys into audience behaviour resumed and demonstrated that viewers had a clear preference for melodramas or films with "good-looking heroes and simple plots." liS These surveys also established the popularity of Indian melodramas among domestic movie audiences. 116 The appeal of the first festival films had motivated the Soviet state to be indulgent towards Indian popular cinema. By the sixties, however, India began to boast a cohesive art cinema movement, and the differences between melodramas and art films in India became pronounced. Makers of art films positioned themselves against Indian popular cinema and created a new, 'socially engaged' art cinema. Yet, of the 206 films imported from India between 1948 and 1991, only 31 fell in the broad category of Indian art films. Soviet viewers had access to Indian art films in film festivals/weeks, but almost never in theater screenings. In questionnaires and interviews, viewers referred exclusively to Indian melodramas and demonstrated
or no knowledge of India's art cinema.
Furthermore, there are some indications that Soviet distributors expended greater effort in screening Indian popular films in their country than any other foreign films in the
113 ibid. 114 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 23, 1.1-6 (1965). 115 Ellen Mickiewicz, Media and the Soviet public (New York: Praeger, 1981), 74-76. 116 Chapter 4 explores the Soviet sociological discussion of the Indian melodrama audience.
159 Soviet Union.lI7 While the number of official imports from India was comparable to imports from countries such as England, France and the United States (among the 'capitalist' countries), Indian films were probably the most actively promoted by distributors and publicity departments. In 1990, the editor of Iskusstvo Kino suggested that Indian films were more intensively distributed than even Soviet films in his following comments:
For forty years now ... , the film repertoire of this country can be divided into 4 categories: 'Soviet', 'foreign', 'films of socialist countries', and 'Indian films.' At this time, it was Indian films especially - 7 -10 a year -, which brought our film industry the highest revenues. Each copy was intensively used - two and a halftimes that of the average use of a copy of a Soviet film. 118
Soviet regional film distributing organizations often privileged Indian popular films, which would increase theater revenues and help meet annual plan requirements. 119 An incident narrated by Aleksandr Lipkov, film scholar and critic, best exemplifies distributors' and theater owners' preference for commercially promising films. 120 As indicated earlier in this chapter, officials in Moscow determined the number of copies to be printed and the theaters suitable for the screenings. Lipkov remembers, however, that local distributors adapted the system to suit their commercial goals. So copies of 'Lenin in Poland,' for instance, were reserved for morning shows that few spectators would attend anyway, and Indian popular films like 'Sita and Gita' would be screened during the well-attended time-slots. The local 1J7 The records of the department of Cinematization and Film Release are not fully declassified; I only had access to their files for the years 1961 to 1963. Future fieldwork, hopefully, will yield more information on film distribution. 1i 8 Viktor Filimonov, "Zachem my khodim za tri moria? 0 fenomene indiiskogo kino", Iskusstvo Kino 6 (1990): 126. This was the editorial preface introducing Filimonov's article in this issue. 1J9 Local distribution officials were notorious for ignoring the center's instructions for distribution. By the seventies, the center ceased to pressure regional distribution offices, which were left to exercise their judgment and preferences in selecting and screening films sent from Moscow. In J981, Moscow commanded a nationwide premiere for a Soviet film; regional theaters obliged, but the film practically vanished from Soviet cinema halls the next day. Golovskoy, Behind the Soviet Screen, 49; Faraday, Revolt, 58. 120 Lipkov, interview.
160
theater managers would then submit the viewers' statistics for 'Sita and Gita' as those for 'Lenin in Poland,' in order to appease the center. Lipkov described with amusement the exchanges between regional distributors and the center on the subject:
When the managers of local theaters assembled for a conference, they were subjected to a dressing-down: "why have you been so lax in distributing 'Lenin in Poland'? You, comrade from Tashkent, why have you not shown this film?"(He) would repent, "Yes, I will definitely show this film ... comrade, but give me one more copy of ' Sita and Gita.'" (laughs ).121
The perception that the state or its distributing organs did more to promote Indian melodramas than other foreign films also found expression in a letter sent to Goskino as early as 1963. The writer demanded to know why publicity posters for most foreign films did not inform viewers of the country of production. The letter noted that while this courtesy was always paid to Indian films, posters for other foreign films had sparse information. According to the writer, in the local theater in Khvalynsk, this is how foreign films were advertised: 'New feature film, Title of film, children below 18 not permitted.' 122 Viewers were given no indication where a film came from or what to expect of it, unless it was an Indian film. These instances suggest that Indian melodramas' popularity prompted some distributors to prefer them to domestic productions or explicitly exploit their potential through better pUblicity. As stated earlier, the documents ofthe 'selection committee for films from capitalist countries' have not been declassified, rendering it difficult to make the selection criteria of Soveksportfil'm officials explicit. However, reports on negotiations with film producers in India, correspondence with headquarters, reports on film professionals' visits to India and the final list of selected films together suggest the motives for the selection of Indian melodramas 121 Lipkov, interview. 122 RGALl. f. 2944, o. 3, d. 2, L 157 (1963).
161
and the corresponding neglect ofIndian art films for import consideration. This exploration of importers' attitudes towards Indian cinema reveals their attempts to reconcile the cinematic canons that they propagated with their pragmatic concerns.
Importing entertainment: 1954-1963
By 1954,6 Indian feature films were screened in the Soviet Union - the early realist and 'progressive' films in 1949 and 1951, and Indian popular films at the 1954 festival. Between 1955 and 1963,21 of the 22 films imported from India were Indian popular films. Indian films were not the only foreign films in Soviet theaters in this period. In 1954, 46 films were bought abroad, of which 15 were from 'bourgeois countries.' In 1955,71 films
were bought, of which 27 were from 'bourgeois' countries. In the first quarter of 1956 alone, Soveksportfil'm bought 52 films abroad, including 27 from 'bourgeois' countries. 123 The Thaw period saw a general increase in the import offoreign films. Between 1958 and 1964, the Soviet Union bought 23 films from Japan, 13 films from Mexico, 26 films from the United States, 48 films from France and 34 films from Italy.124
Neglecting Indian art film/ 25
Although the import of Indian films began as an attempt to become acquainted with the veteran film industry of a newly independent nation, considerations of the commercial value of Indian films gradually came to playa role in the selection of some films in the period following the success of the 1954 film festival.
123 ROANI, f. 5, o. 36, d. 30, 1. 115 (1956). 124 ROALI, f. 2918, o. 4, d. 13,1.1-4 (1964). 125 The phrase 'art cinema' was first used in India to refer to the new 'realist cinema, in the sixties. However, I use it in its general sense to refer to those films that were not 'mainstream' popular films, before and after the sixties.
162
As early as the fifties, one sees indications that the ideological or artistic value of a film was secondary to a film's commercial worth during the selection process for foreign films. In 1956, the Communist Party Central Committee complained that it had to reject several foreign films recommended for purchase by the selection committee in Moscow because of their unsuitability. It reported:
In the process of selecting a film for purchase, the committee bases its decision primarily on an estimate of the revenues the film may generate, and pays least attention to ideological aspects of the question. 126
Early reports also indicate that Soveksportfil'm sidelined Indian art films in their import considerations. Sometimes, Soveksportfil'm officials in Bombay blamed the bias on the selection committee in Moscow; at other times, the reprimand to pay serious attention to art films came from the center to regional offices in India. Indian filmmaker Satyajit Ray,127 whose films were renowned by the fifties for their realism, was the toast of the Soviet cultural intelligentsia. His films became a standard feature of film festivals in the Soviet Union, yet were not the foremost choice for import for general distribution. The selection committee in Moscow rejected his film 'The Unvanquished' (Aparajitol -), and Soveksportfil'm officials in Bombay were piqued by this decision. 128
Privileging melodramas129 Initially, the mid-fifties saw the impOli of social melodramas from India such as 'Under Cover of Night' (Jagte RaholPod pokrovom nochO, which was a 'critical survey of 126 RGANI, f. 5, o. 36, d. 30, !. 118-119 (1956). 127 See Appendix In for information about art filmmakers cited in this work. 128 RGALI, o. 4, d. 146, l. 85-86 (1963). 129 Appendix I, Table 1.2 shows audience statistics for many melodramas mentioned in this section.
163
middle-class Bengali life' that denounced the dishonesty of this class.130 The success of 'The Vagabond' at the festival ensured that, thereafter, any Raj Kapoor film would be imported for its promise of high box-office returns. In 1956, his 'Mr. 420' (Shree 420/Gospodin 420) was imported at an unusually high price. l3l In other films imported from India in the fifties, heroprotagonists were 'progressive.' Their ideas and convictions were pitted against the persistence of caste prejudices as in the film 'Sujata' (SujatalSujata), or against archaic schooling methods as in 'Awakening' (JagritiIProbuzhdenie). These films addressed the problems of modem India, such as rural-urban migration, famine, and other issues of colonial and post-colonial India. This period also saw the first Indo-Soviet film 'The Foreigner' (Pardesi/ Khozhdenie za tn moria), based on the travels of Manasy Nikitin in the 15th century. The production was symptomatic of the new goodwill and amicable relations between Khrushchev's Soviet Union and Nehru's India. Indian popular cinema, imported under Khrushchev, began to display a shift from the social engagement of early Indian melodramas to the 'hedonistic' films of the 60s made for the westernized urban audience. These were films with love triangles, whose wealthy, urbane and macho heroes bore no greater social responsibility. In 1963, Soveksportfil'm bought 'Love in Simla,' which exemplified this change in Indian popular cinema. This film, described by Soviet film officials as an "entertaining musical," was essentially about the efforts of two very different women to win over the object of their affection - the refined and cavalier hero. It was the most successful foreign film in the Soviet Union that year with 35 million viewers (following two domestic films). The purchase of the film was urged by
130 Ashish Rajadhyaksha and Paul Willemen, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema, 346. 131 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 3, d. 26, I. 26-31 (1956).
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Soviet trade officials in order not to hinder the Soviet film export process. 132 If strategic cultural goals could be achieved with the import of 'Love in Simla,' then its artistic and ideological 'limitations' could be overlooked. Among the imported Indian melodramas of this period, films such as 'Sujata,' 'Mr.420,' 'The Foreigner' and 'Love in Simla' were remembered with particular fondness by respondents and interviewees. The import of a film like 'Love in Simla' demonstrates that the Soviet state, as early as the Khrushchev years, was not averse to cinema that displayed no overt social engagement. The films of the sixties and seventies would continue this trend and Soviet import policy remained unaffected by the change in ethos in Indian mainstream cinema. If anything, more films were imported from India's popular film industry each decade.
Importing entertainment: 1964-1984 The goal of importing commercially viable entertainment cinema continued to drive the import policy under Brezhnev, just as much as the desire to effect reciprocal sales of Soviet films in India. Of the approximately 86 films imported from India under Brezhnev, 72 were mainstream melodramas. The greatest commercial hits in India were unfailingly imported for Soviet audiences in this period. Brezhnev-era policy regarding cinema was characterized by a new emphasis on the production and distribution of entertainment cinema. Foreign imports soared because the domestic industry was unable to match demand, and Goskino was hard pressed to stem the decline in theater attendance. In 1970, it was estimated that 1;4 of the 1750 films exhibited were entertainment films mostly offoreign production, while the rest were 'weighty' films of
132 RGALI, f. 2918,
0,
5, d. 61, L 144 (1961),
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domestic production. 133 In this period, the Soviet Union imported approximately 125 films from France, 95 films from the United States, 145 films from Czechoslovakia, 44 films from Italy, 65 films from Yugoslavia, 30 films from Japan and 16 films from England. Films were imported more en'atically from Cuba, the United Arab Emirates and Syria. 134
Neglecting art films
In India, Soveksportfil'm representatives followed closely the second phase of the Indian art cinema movement, which began in 1969-70. Soveksportfil'm believed that before long these films would have the kind of commercial success nonnally enjoyed by entertaining films. 135 A delegation of Soviet film professionals who visited India declared that those who considered Indian films difficult to select for Soviet viewers exhibited a lack of knowledge about contemporary cinema in India. Stating that Indian cinematography had come into its own, these film professionals commended Indian art films (especially those of South and East India) for their social resonance and artistic mastery.l36 Soviet trade representatives also wrote to Goskino recommending films other than Bombay melodramas for purchase; for instance, they observed that "traditional" films with "make-believe plots" had given way to considerations of "family and social issues" in Bengali cinema. l37 Despite these recommendations to increase the import of Indian art films, importers were more inclined to purchase Indian popular cinema. In fact, reports in the mid-sixties already complained that Soveksportfil'm had become a purely commercial organization. Its
133 Ellen Mickiewicz. Media and the Soviet public, 74-76. 134 Based on Soveksportfil'm reports of foreign imports from 1953-1989. 135 RGALI,f. 2918, o. 5, d. 585, 1.19-20 (1971). 136 RGALI. f. 2918, o. 7, d. 90, J. 39-43 (1972). 137 RGALl, f. 2918, o. 8, d. 419,1.3-6 (1978).
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earlier attempts to study foreign countries with which the Soviet Union had ties and ''to provide information about life and film art of these countries" had ceased.138 The promotion of the cause of 'progressive' filmmakers in India did occasionally playa part in the selection process. Soveksportfil'm representatives highly recommended and executed the purchase of 'Someone Like You' (Unnaippol Oruvan' lPokhozhii na tebia) because it could "acquaint Soviet viewers with reallife in India" in an unvarnished manner, unlike Indian popular films and "their embellished narratives." They believed its purchase would demonstrate Soviet support for Indian art cinema. 139 However, there were several instances of art films being offered for purchase/distribution in the Soviet Union, suffering neglect and never seeing the light of day in Soviet theaters. The art film, 'Apasvaranam' (Apasvaranarn/-) was recommended by Soveksportfil'm as a gesture of support for progressive filmmakers in India but it was never purchased. 140 On another occasion, the Soviet Union offended Indian art filmmaker Mrinal Sen, whom Soviet critics loved to praise (see Chapter 3). The Moscow office ofSoveksportfil'm retained Sen's film for five months and then returned it to the filmmaker, without informing him of its decision regarding the purchase of the film. Hearing of this, Goskino advised the Soveksportfil'm office in India against considering only the commercial worth of the films previewed. It was suggested that SoveksportfI1'm could restrict the purchase of art films to 23 copies, which in itself would be an "adequate gesture.,,141 Here, a Goskino official was of the opinion that one could promote progressive cinema of India without having to distribute it on a large-scale in the Soviet Union itself; ideological interests were checked by commercial
138 RGANI, f. 5, o. 36, d 158, I. 209 (1966). 139 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 5, d. 311, 1. 39 (1965). 140 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 5, d. 479, I. 44-45 (1968). 141 RGANl, f. 5, o. 90, d. 223, I. 78 (1984).
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concerns. Such statements leave no room for doubt about the real motivations for the purchase of Indian films. Moreover, the Soviet Union's friendly and supportive ties with India, and its acceptance of the 'many roads to socialism' dictum also had repercussions for the selection of films for import. When communist art filmmakers ofIndia made 'art' films that seemed to suggest opposition to the central government ofIndia, Soveksportfil'm chose not to import the film and rock the diplomatic boat. In the 1970s, Bengali filmmaker Ritwik Ghatak, one of India's reputed art filmmakers, sent his film 'Our Lenin' (Hamara Leninl-) to the Soviet Union to be screened in Moscow. Much to Ghatak's chagrin, this film was never screened or publicized. 142 When Soviet officials previewed films for purchase in 1984, they watched the Malayalam 143 film 'Face to Face' (Mukha Mukham ILitsom k litsu), made by filmmaker Adoor Gopalakrishnan. It was a critique of the communist movement in India. The previewing audience found the film to be both interesting and representing a "correct point of departure." Yet, they rejected it for purchase because of its seemingly oppositional stance with regard to the Indian government. 144 The lobby to increase the import ofIndian art films was active on both the Soviet and Indian sides. VGIK director, V. Vaisfeld, returned from a trip to India in 1966 and reported Indian filmmakers' dismay at Soveksportfil'm selection criteria. Indian filmmakers had implied that Soviet Union was overly fond of Raj Kapoor and had done little to promote the work of filmmakers like Satyajit Ray. Vaisfeld advised that Soviet policy remedy the
142 When Naum Kleiman met Ghatak later, the latter expressed his discontent over the lack of Soviet enthusiasm and the absence of effort to promote his film in the Soviet Union. Kleiman, interview. 143 Lingua-fi'anca of the southern Indian state of Kerala. 144Arkhivvlo Soveksportfil'm, f. 2918, o. 9, d. -, 1. - (1984).
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situation, and take into account the growing strength of Indian art filmmaking. 145 In his notes on a recently concluded festival of Soviet films in India, a Goskino official acknowledged Indian melodramas' popularity in the Soviet Union but urged the purchase of Indian art films that dealt with India's problems. l46 In 1984, a Goskino delegation to India also observed that there was immense displeasure among the Indian film circles with the functioning of Soveksportfil'm. The Soviet film trade organization was once more accused of purchasing melodramas to the exclusion of 'serious' films produced in Bengal and South India. 147 Additionally, Indian state-level appeals were made to Goskino to combine their consistent purchase of melodramas with that of films about contemporary India's problems and obstacles. l48 These instances indicate that Soveksportfil'm had a commonly established reputation, in India and the Soviet Union, for marginalizing Indian art cinema in its selection of films for import.
Privileging melodramas
Between the mid-sixties and the late eighties, Indian mainstream cinema became more spectacular with far-flung locales and fight scenes based on American westerns. The late sixties and early seventies still churned out love stories with no explicit social or political message, such as 'Confluence' (Sangaml Sangam)149, 'Bobby' (Bobby/Bobby), and 'Sita and Gita' (Sita aur Gita/ SUa i Gita), all of which were major hits in the Soviet Union and were fondly remembered by most respondents and interviewees. The story of 'Confluence' is a 'time-worn' love triangle; two friends are in love with the same woman. The female 145 RGALI, f. 2944, o. 13, delo 786, I. 56, (1966). 146 RGALI f. 2944, 0.13, delo 1053, 1.l1-19 (1967). 147 RGAN!, f. 5, 0.90, d. 223, I. 77 (1984). 148 RGALI, f. 2918, 0.7, d. 193, I. 56 (1975). 149 The original Hindi title was retained for Soviet distribution.
169 protagonist loves one, but marries the other. The object of her affections commits suicide to avoid destroying his friend's happiness. I5o 'Bobby' was the great commercial hit of 1973, as Soveksportfil'm noted in its reports to Moscow. The film, where the romance of a Hindu boy and a Christian girl Bobby is "thwarted by family prejudice and class divide", stressed "breathless, obsessive juvenile love.,,151 Its success in the Soviet Union ultimately justified Soveksportfil'm's choice. It was second on the Soviet charts with 62.6 million viewers in 1975. Another seventies hit was 'Sita and Gita,' a classic mainstream film about twin sisters separated at birth; one street smart and tough, and the other meek and oppressed. Circumstances lead to Sita and Gita switching places, where the sisters brings their individual virtues and positive attributes to bear on the events that unfold around them. The film continues to be screened on Russian television even today. Soveksportfil'm officials wrote that a positive decision on the purchase of the film would make it substantially easier for Soveksportfil'm to release Soviet films in India; the producer of this film was the president of the All-India Association of Film Producers. Besides which, "representatives of Soviet film distribution organizations had given the film high ratings for its commercial potentiaf'152 (italics added). It was fourth on the 'blockbuster' list in the Soviet Union that year with 55.2 million viewers. The 'angry young man' or vigilante hero-type in mid-seventies and eighties cinema was popular and led to the commercial success of several Indian films in these decades. Films such as 'Embers' (Sholay/Mest' i Zakon) exemplified this new cinema of underclass heroes
150 Rajni Bakshi. "Raj Kapoor: From Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai to Ram Teri Ganga Maili," in The Secret Politics of Our
Desires: Innocence, Culpability and Indian Popular Cinema, ed. Ashis Nandy (New York: St.Martin·s Press, 1998), I J8. 151 ibid., 120. 152 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 7, d. 193, I. 32 (1974).
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who avenged social wrongs and questioned the state's ability to act in the interests of the people. It was a ''massively popular adventure film" with "admixtures of romance, comedy, feudal costume drama and musicals.,,153 Soveksportfil'm imported this and other films with similar plots. Among them were such films as 'Gunpowder' (BaroodiMstitel y, which topped the Soviet charts in 1978 ahead of even Soviet productions. Another film, 'All-Powerful' (VidhaatalVsemogushii), about a hero-protagonist who single-handedly fights for justice
when evil goes unpunished by the law, was also a hit in the Soviet Union. Other films in Soveksportfil'm's final selection were classic love triangles or stories of siblings separated at birth, a favorite theme in Indian mainstream cinema. A film that fared well in the Soviet Union was 'Master of his fate' (Muqaddar ka Sikandar/ Vladyka sud'by); it narrates the story of a young man who is perpetually unfortunate in his relationships with women. A classic in the former Soviet Union, which still has re-runs on television today, is the film 'Beloved Raja' (Raja Jani/ Liubimyi Radzha). It tells the story of a young woman, a fugitive, who falls in love with a seemingly prosperous businessman; this 'industrialist' turns out to be a minor crook. Simple narratives about a poor young man who makes it big also featured in the Indian film repertoire in the Soviet Union of this period. An example is 'Disco Dancer' (Disco Dancer/ Tantsor Disko), which became a landmark film in the Soviet Union, comparable to
'The Vagabond' in its wide appeal there. The film with its disco music and tall strapping nimble footed hero won adoring audiences in the Soviet Union in the eighties; the reader will recall from viewers' recollections ofIndian films in the previous chapter that the long wait to buy a ticket for 'Disco Dancer' reportedly proved fatal for one moviegoer in Tadjikistan. 154
153 Rajadhyaksha and Willemen, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema, 426. 154 During my fieldtrips in 2001 and 2002, I noticed it was common for market vendors in Moscow to have this film's music playing in the background while they went about their day's work..
171 The film drew 60.9 million Soviet viewers in 1984, the highest turnout for any film (domestic and foreign) that year. In this period, Indian and Soviet filmmakers collaborated to make a fairy-tale based entertainer, 'Ali Baba and the 40 thieves' (Ali Baba aur chalees chorl Prikliucheniia Ali Baba i soroka razboinnokov), which became the most populax foreign film in the Soviet Union in 1980 with 52.8 million viewers. Soviet officials found Indian populax cinema undeserving of critical appreciation, yet they valued its commercial worth enough to work with the Indian film industry on this and other occasions to make entertaining films for Soviet audiences. Between 1964 and 1984, the various film centers in India produced noteworthy art films of tremendous social significance. However, Soveksportfil'm almost never purchased these films, despite the recommendations of the Soviet film intelligentsia and Indian state officials. Instead, the most successful Indian popular films were provided for audience entertainment at home.
Importing entertainment: 1985-1991 In the six years of the Gorbachev period, between 1985 and 1991, 92 Indian films were bought by Soveksportfil'm. This constituted an unprecedentedly high average of approximately 15 films per annum. Seventy-nine ofthe 92 films were mainstream Indian popular films or commercial fihns.
Neglecting art films
On paper, import officials continued to express a preference for edifying cinema. In 1986, Soveksportfil'm officials in India expressed frustration at their task. They found it
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difficult to pick films that, "in form and substance," were accessible to the Soviet viewer. 155 These officials also complained that Goskino's selection committee frequently turned down the art films they chose. Soveksportfil'm, Bombay, recommended the social-critical film 'The Half-Truth' (Ardh Satya/ Polupravda), but the selection committee in Moscow rejected it and favored films of "obvious commercial potential" for purchase. 156 In fact, Moscow urged representatives in India to increase the import of melodramas from India yet again, considering their "invariable success" with Soviet audiences. 157
Privileging melodramas
In this period, Soveksportfil'm imported various films about scattered families that reunite miraculously at the end, and films where the protagonist strives to climb the social ladder and achieves fame such as 'Birth' (JanamIRozhdenie) and 'Dance, Dance' (Dance DancelTantsui Tantsul). The Soviet state also purchased films such as 'Land Grant' (Jagirl Kak tri mushketera), where heroes take on bandits who have eluded the law. Other imported
Indian films were simple love-stories, whose storylines revolve around winning over the object of affection such as 'The Triumph of Love' (Pyar Ki JeetlLiubov' Vyigryvaet). Clearly, by the end of the perestroika period, film theme played no role in the selection process. The efforts of Soveksportfil'm in bringing Indian films into the Soviet Union worked to the benefit of Indian mainstream cinema Moreover, video distribution companies began
155 Arkhiv vlo Soveksporifil'm, f. 2918, o. 9, d.-, 1.- (1986). 156 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 8, d. 791, I. 21 (1984).
157 Arkhiv vlo Soveksportfil'm, f. 2918, o. 9, d.-, 1.- (1991).
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operating by 1987 and sales of Indian popular films to the USSR soared in 1987_88. 158 In 1988, the Soviet Union was India's second most lucrative export market for films, even though other foreign markets far outstripped the Soviet Union in the number of Indian films imported. 159 However, the dismantling of the centralized system of distribution and import by the late perestroika period meant that the Soviet market was flooded with more foreign films than ever before. Indian films now competed with the growing presence of Hollywood movies. Once the Soviet Union collapsed, the new Russian government's turn towards the west, matched by India's growing film markets in the United States and Europe, also did not bode well for the two countries' film exchanges. Since 1992, melodramas from India have been circulated primarily on video, accompanied by the occasional television re-runs of older Indian films.
Conclusion Interest in maintaining strategic cultural ties with India and providing the public at home with entertaining cinema sustained the Soviet film trade with India. In their choice of Indian films, policy makers marginalised Indian art films, whose virtues they zealously espoused, and oriented their import policy to favor those Indian popular films that would yield profitable returns from theaters at home. There is no better indication of the Soviet state's responsiveness to audience demand than the consistent selection of those Indian films that were box-office hits in India for theater screenings.
158 Manjunath Pendakur and Radha Subramanyam, "Indian cinema beyond national borders," in New patterns in global television: peripheral vision, ed. John Sinclair, Elizabeth Jacka, Stuart Cunningham (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 77.
159 Pendakur, "India," 240.
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Film scholars confirm the dual purpose Indian melodramas met for the Soviet state. Razlogov stated that Indian films were suitable for import because they had provided audiences with entertaining fare that was also ideologically 'harmless.' He observed:
We had very friendly relations with India, and the films were apolitical ... did not represent a hostile ideology. Simultaneously, they guaranteed commercial success and thus, high theater revenues in the Soviet Union. l60 Lipkov made a similar observation when asked why he thought the state sustained the import of popular films from India. He explained:
Politics explains everything ... the great friendship with India, everyone saying "Hindi-Rusi bhai-bhai. ,161 Everyone was excited when Jawaharlal Nehru and ...
when Raj Kapoor visited the Soviet Union ... Somehow, the political and cultural lines converged. Indian films were commercially successful; simultaneously, they were from a 'friendly' country.162 Soviet policy makers chose to do what Soviet dogma denounced; they 'pandered to mass tastes' by importing melodramas from India. Importers and policy makers, acting as an interpretive community, 'played to the crowd' even as they grappled behind the scenes with the 'problem' of reconciling commercial interests with their assumed role as mentor of 'progressive cinemas' of the world. Their actions were a negotiation between strategic interests, audience needs and preferred dominant ideas about cinema. As long as their import decisions could be politically and fmancially expedient, the state clearly had no qualms about humoring the audiences' penchant for the Indian melodrama. Indian popular cinema
160 Raz1ogov, interview. 161 "Indians and Russians are brothers." This phrase in Hindi, coined when Khrushchev first visited India in 1955, became popular usage in both countries. 162 Lipkov, interview.
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represented a site where there were moments of consonance and influence between the interests of policy makers and the preferences of the melodrama audience.
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Chapter 3 CRITICAL RECEPTION OF INmAN CINEMA, 1949-1991 At odds with melodrama admirers
Goskino policy makers and trade representatives constituted only a part of the institutional context in which the audience for Indian films took shape. Once Indian films had been imported for theater distribution and festival screenings, it fell to film critics or newspaper correspondents to review and discuss them. In Soviet aesthetics, it was incumbent upon cultural mediators to shape the cultural tastes and preferences of the 'public.' In this chapter, I consider critical views on the subject of Indian melodramas and art cinema, thereby seeking to assess the position of the critic as cultural mediator with relation to policy makers and the melodrama audience in the Soviet Union. How did critics act as an interpretive connnunity and contribute to the discourses surrounding Indian films in the Soviet Union? What were critics' expectations, which films earned their praise, which their opprobrium and what was the nature of film criticism in general? Did their writing acconnnodate the interests of Indian melodramas' many loyalists in the Soviet Union? In this chapter, Section I is a discussion of those cross-cultural ideas about the purpose of cinema that were prevalent in post-Stalinist Soviet society and postindependence India. Section II considers specific examples from the body of critical writing on Indian cinema that took shape in the Soviet media and academic sphere. In order to understand how critics treated Indian cinema and the melodrama audience, it draws on central and regional newspapers, filmjournals and academic publications in the Soviet Union.
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SECTION I
CINEMA: SOVIET AND INDIAN PERSPECTIVES
At the outset, it is imperative to consider the guiding principles of film criticism1 and the ideas about cinema in post-Stalinist society that contributed to critical evaluations of Indian films. Film criticism and film studies took off as a discipline in both the Soviet Union and the rest of the world in the fifties and sixties. A few Soviet [11m critics were graduates from VGIK, the only school to grant degrees in film criticism 2 Others who wrote about Indian cinema were newspaper correspondents (APN correspondents in India), or scholars who wrote the occasional article on Indian cinema. In fact, most critics came from a journalistic or literary background, causing Naum Kleiman to suggest that press reviews of films exemplified journalism rather than film criticism.3 Scholars such as Aleksandr Lipkov, Irina Zvegentseva and Romil Sobolev were VGIK graduates who worked consistently on Indian cinema, publishing articles and monographs on the subject. Lipkov has written articles and essays on Indian melodramas and art films for the last 35 years. His book "Indian films; the secret of their success"(1991), was the last Soviet publication on Indian cinema. Zvegentseva and Sobolev are both [11m scholars who have written predominantly about Indian [llms over the decades. Iurii Korchagov is a linguist whose specialization in the sixties was the Hindi language and literature. He began to write on Indian cinema during the 1970s, and
1 I use the term 'film criticism' to indicate the body of writing on Indian cinema, which consists of film reviews and articles on Indian cinema; the use of the word 'critic,' in this chapter and others, refers to both scholarly critics and media critics. Media critics were often newspaper or news agency reporters. 2 Michael Brashinsky and Andrew Hotton, Russian Critics on the Cinema a/Glasnost' (New Yark : Cambridge University Press, 1994),3. 3 Kleiman, interview.
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published several articles on the subject in the Soviet period; together with Lipkov, he is considered an 'Indian film specialist.' Korchagov is now predominantly engaged in dubbing Indian film videos into Russian for distribution. There were only a few specialist publications where film critics could put their skills to use. Goskino and the Union of Soviet Cinematographers sponsored four magazines, Sovetskii Ekran (Soviet Screen), Kinomekhanik (Film Projectionist), Iskusstvo
Kino (The Art of Cinema), and Tekhnika kino i televedeniia (Film and Television Technology). Soveksportfll'm sponsored 'Soviet Film,' which was intended solely for export.
Iskusstvo Kino was revived in the early fifties as a bi-monthly publication committed to analyzing the history and theory of cinema. It is estimated that on average, it had 60,000 readers. Its coverage of films was much more specialized and exclusively devoted to art or progressive cinemas. Its comparatively small readership was confined to those with an academic interest in cinema. Sovetskii Ekran was the popular fihn magazine that catered to a wider readership; it was published from 1925 to 1941, and was back in circulation in 1957. By the eighties, it had an estimated circulation of 1,90,000 copies. Its reviews were summaries of fihns, with some general remarks on the composition and effectiveness offilms' narratives. Both these journals were Moscow based. St. Petersburg did not have a regular film magazine until 1991.4 Kinomekhanik and Tekhnika kino i
televedeniia were published for film projectionists. Soviet Film, meant mainly for foreign consumption, was only made available to the most highly placed communist leaders in the Soviet Union.
4 Brashinsky and Horton, Russian Critics on the Cinema ofGlasnost, , 5.
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Other than film publications such as lskusstvo Kino and Sovetskii Ekran, newspapers such as Literaturnaia Gazeta, Sovetskaia Kul'tura (an official publication of the Central Committee of the Communist Party), Pravda (the party organ) and lzvestiia carried articles or reviews about cinema. Reviews appeared with equal frequency in
Komsomo/'skaia Pravda and Trud (published by the Central Council of Trade Unions of the USSR). Even the Ministry of Defense's publication, Krasnaia Zvezda, had occasional film reviews. 5 Regional newspapers published articles about Indian cinema when film delegations visited or film-weeks were organized locally. In addition to these newspapers, a weekly four-page tabloid, Kino-Nedelia (Film Weekly), was published in 66 Soviet cities. It had theater listings, announcements of imminent film festivals, and interviews with film personalities. 6 In Soviet film criticism, there was no prescriptive text that directly shaped reviews and critical writings on cinema; the assumption was that everyone ''understood'' the unwritten ground-rules. 7 The rules of the editorial board of Sovetskii Ekran illustrate the criteria that determined the eligibility of domestic films for review in it. Films were classified into 5 categories. In the first category were fllms 'supported by Goskino', which could be only praised and never criticized. Films eligible for negative criticism belonged to the second category of fllms. In this journal, negative criticism was meant as a cautionary note to audiences. The third category of fllms consisted of fllms of formalist filmmakers like Andrei Tarkovskii, which were considered to have strayed from the recommended direction for Soviet cinema. These fllms were officially 'beyond the pale,' and not eligible for reviewing. The fourth category of films also constituted films not
5 Golovskoy, Behind the Soviet screen, 67. 6 ibid., 67-68. 7 Brashinsky, email. Soviet film criticism remains a vastly under-researched area. The book by Michael Brashinsky and Andrew Horton is the only known publication in the western world on the SUbject.
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selected for review because they were 'gray' or average films. Finally, the fifth category included 'gray' fJ.lms that were reviewed summarily as 'ftllers.' Ultimately, there were only 25 of these. 8 But what were the tacit criteria, whether in journals or newspapers, for reviewing Indian cinema - art and popular? Lipkov, Razlogov and Kleiman, film scholars who have written on Indian and other films, suggested the factors that shaped the body of work on
films from India. As a critic who wrote predominantly about Indian cinema, Lipkov was able to describe the generally flexible guidelines within which critics worked. He observed that there was never a disagreement between the cultural intelligentsia and the state when it came to writing about India because India represented both a 'friendly' political ally and a "kindred culture." This meant that the central committee was relatively non-interfering with regard to writing on Indian cinema. Lipkov observed:
The party set the parameters for writing about cinema, but each ofus found a way to work within the boundaries. As long as Indian movies were in the theaters, Indian guests were met at the international festivals, and the films were of a democratic nature (which they all were), the central committee did not interfere in our work. 9
According to Lipkov, there were no basic principles offtlm criticism; criticism in the Soviet Union was both free and unfree. Some newspapers and journals were required to support socialist realism, and the critics who wrote for such publications knew little about cinema but unfailingly cited the party leaders in each article. Others, and Lipkov included himself in this category, wrote about "real art." In his opinion, he reviewed Indian art and popular fJ.lms in a relatively unhampered manner; when asked to edit parts of an article that he considered essential to their subject, he simply withdrew it. Lipkov asserted that
8 Golovskoy, Behind the Soviet Screen, 64. 9 Lipkov, interview.
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he discussed films without constant exultations about the party's commitment to cinema, and wrote about Indian melodramas tolerantly. However, other critics generally did not bestow Indian popular films with their scholarly attention. Razlogov, who has also served on ftlm festival committees for the selection of foreign flhns, explained that most critics believed that cinema of the developing world should portray social malaises. Therefore, although importers continued to bring in commercially lucrative ftlms from India, many critics did not "support" popular films from India and instead favored its art ftlm school. According to Razlogov, even critics writing for journals such as Sovetsldi Ekran, which was oriented towards the 'mass' audience, were not favorably disposed towards Indian popular ftlms. Although the main target for writers' most scathing critique was the United States, the ftlm press also scorned Indian ftlms of the entertaining variety because they were considered incapable of presenting 'social problems.' Razlogov additionally attributed the character of coverage of Indian ftlms to the prevalent "eurocentrism" in Soviet ftlm journals. According to him, critics not only paid little serious attention to Indian popular ftlms, but also were largely preoccupied with European cinema in their writings.}O Coverage of Indian popular and art cinema may also have varied depending on the place of publication and the nature of the publication. Kleiman suggested that journals such as Iskusstvo Kino were very centralized and vulnerable to strict control and censorship: "If someone were to write an entirely positive piece on an Indian melodrama, the editor was likely to say, 'where is the discussion of the social problem?"'}} This he juxtaposed with Sovetsldi Ekran, a mass journal that could take a few more liberties in its evaluations of melodramas. Moreover, central publications may have been more strictly monitored than regional publications such as those in the Uzbek republic in their
10 Raz\ogov, interview. His observations were echoed by both Kleiman and Lipkov in their interviews. 11 Kleiman, interview.
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coverage of Indian melodramas. Both factors are likely to have affected film critics' writing on Indian cinema. 12 Thus, guidelines concerning cinema from India were flexible because of the political relationship with that country, but melodramas were generally beyond the pale for critical discussion. Cinema, especially of the developing world, was expected to engage social reality not evade it, as Indian melodramas were perceived to do. To what can we attribute this quest for socially engaging cinema and dismissal of the melodramatic geme in most critical Soviet writing? What were some canonical presuppositions about cinema in post-Stalinist society that contributed to critics' perceptions of Indian art and popular films, and how did these ideas relate to contemporary cinematic approaches in post-independence India?
a. Soviet approaches to cinema It is important to consider prevalent Soviet beliefs about the function of cinema,
the role of melodrama, and the nature of film art, before we analyze critics' writings on Indian cinema.
Socialist and other realisms The primary principle of realism that shaped Soviet conceptualization of the arts after the mid-thirties was that of socialist realism. According to the canons of socialist realism, literature and the arts in general needed to be optimistic, accessible to the people and uphold the spirit of the Party (partiinost'). In this realism, the essence of a plot was to show what ought to be. This meant that hero protagonists had to be 'positive heroes,' who 'acquired consciousness' and guided the people to act for the goals defmed by the socialist state. The negative characters in the same plot represented 'what is,' which was
12 ibid.
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quickly overcome and replaced by 'what ought to be.' This sudden "shifting of gears" from the realistic to the utopian or mythic, from "tractors" to "transcendence," gave the socialist-realist art form its epic quality.13 In the Thaw period, the aesthetic criteria of socialist realism acquired a new flexibility. In the new eclectic understanding ofthe term, realism could be multi-faceted. The earlier insistence that art should "represent society in its revolutionary development" (that is, as the leadership wished it to appear, rather than how it actually was) was dismissed as a 'varnishing of reality.' Art was now defined by the ideologues as a reflection of a variety of experiences in all of its "complexities, color and inconsistencies as well as an aspiration towards a Communist future.,,14 This meant an acceptance of a spectrum of realistic forms of art, and new expectations of art and artists. There was now a call for 'sincerity' and the 'lyric' in literature and a new legitimacy in portrayals of personallives. 15 Furthermore, there was a quest for individual expression and a general acceptance of a variety of themes and styles. A certain amount of social criticism was permitted as long as it did not question the party or its legitimacy. The umbrella of socialist-realist orthodoxy simply began to include a greater range of creative practices. 16 In the area offihn, some of these practices stemmed from renewed cultural contacts with European filmmakers; for instance, Italian neo-realist cinema and French New Wave cinema held many Soviet film professionals in their thrall during the Thaw and later. 17
13 Kalerina Clark. The Soviet Novel as Ritual (Bloomington: Indiana University Press. 2000), 36-41. 14 A. MikhaiJova, "Jdeologiia i zhizn ': Mnogoobrazie iskusstva sotsialisticheskogo realizma," Kommunist 7 (1964): 86, quoted in Louis Cohen, Cultural-Political Traditions and Developments in Soviet Cinema (New York: Amo Press. 1974), lli.
15 Clark. The Soviet Novel as Ritual, 215-216 16 Faraday. The Revolt, 76.
17 Kleiman. interview.
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Melodrama - an outcaste: The privileging of realism had repercussions for critical views of melodrama; critics did not echo the mass audience's known preference for melodramas. In the west, melodrama as a genre has always been treated with some condescension, juxtaposed unfavorably against other artistic approaches such as realism 18 In the Soviet Union, the position of melodrama was riddled with ambiguity. In the twenties, cultural ideologues Anatolii Lunacharskii and Maksim Gorkii saw the melodrama as bearing revolutionary potential. They recognized the potency of the melodramatic form, both in appealing to its already established audiences and in carrying the revolutionary message in clear and unambiguous terms. 19 Lunacharskii's ideas were realized in the agitsudy, for instance, which were highly melodramatic staged narratives that ended with the victory of the conscious worker and communist. As long as the narrative was ideologically appropriate, with suitable protagonists and antagonists, the structure and tropes of melodrama were of great potential in spreading propaganda in the post-revolution years. In the twenties, Soviet filmmakers found it immensely useful to combine the popular appeal of melodramas with the ideological content demanded of cinema in those years. This was also a manner of drawing audiences away from American Mary Pickford films to domestic cinema, .and making the latter commercially lucrative. When socialist realism became the creed of Stalinist culture, melodrama was officially relegated to the margins as a bourgeois genre; however, these two artistic
18 Louise Reynolds and Joan Neuberger, "Introduction," in Imitations ojLife: Two Centuries ojMelodrama in Russia, ed. Louise Reynolds and Joan Neuberger (Durl!am and London: Duke University Press), 8-10; the Douglas Sirk melodramas of the fifties finally persuaded intellectuals in the west that melodrama could act as "cultural commentary." Sirk's films about the repressed sexuality of suburban middle class women made him the "darling of both crowds and critics," and rendered the genre an acceptable form in the academic view. In general, however, realist filmmakers in the west have defined their filmmaking approaches in opposition to entertaining films such as melodramas. 19 Julie A. Cassiday, "Alcohol is our Enemy! Soviet Temperance Melodramas of the 1920s," in Imitations ojLife, 156160.
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approaches have much in common. In her work on the socialist-realist novel, Katerina Clark suggested that this type of novel has a standard master plot. The central feature of a socialist-realist novel or film is the 'acquisition of consciousness.' The model narrative begins with the hero arriving at a factory or kolkhoz, where he sets about his assigned tasks. Realizing that the work is not progressing as it should, the hero then approaches local bureaucrats with a plan to remedy the problem. When they prove dismissive of his ideas, the hero mobilizes like-minded people around him, addresses mass meetings and even manages to persuade a few local powers-that-be of the wisdom of his plan. This process is ridden with obstacles, as enemies and natural disasters prevent the hero from realizing his goal. Usually, there is a death to emphasize the importance of sacrifice in the process of social regeneration. Consumed with uncertainty about the path he has chosen, the hero appeals for advice to a mentor, who is a party worker. Under this mentor's guidance or tutelage, the hero acquires an understanding of the tasks that lie ahead of him. The finale has several resolutions: the hero fulfllis his task, resolves his personal relationships, and earns a promotion to a higher post. The denouement of a socialistrealist film or novel is the inevitable remorse of the villain, who returns to the fold; that is, the enemy is reintegrated into Soviet society?O Melodramas have narratives that foHow a similar trajectory. They progress from the appearance of the protagonists and the obstacles that prevent them from attaining good or happiness (something that is culturally defined), to the surpassing of those obstacles and the reintegration of the enemies into the status quo. Reintegration, and not alienation, is the goal of the melodrama, much as it was the objective of socialist-realist arts. These convergences allowed socialist-realist cinema to exploit the melodramatic genre, which was profoundly useful for the presentation of a world as it should be, rather than as it was. It was effective not so much in revealing transformations in society as melodramas have historically done, but in establishing new
20 Katerina Clark, The Soviet Novel as Ritual, 255-260.
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categories of good and evil in post-revolutionary cinema. 21 Melodrama's clear Manichaean universe and inevitable poetic justice were appropriate for portrayals of a class-ridden world and the eventual victory of the proletariat. The melodramatic mode was also common in war-era cinema, where the central focus was the war between the Soviet family (the nation) and the foreign 'them.' The inevitability of justice meant that the Soviet family would overcome the destruction and loss of the war and retain its wholeness. In the Thaw era 'melodrama,' the nuclear family became the site of the war, and the conflict that was portrayed occurred between the war and the helpless protagonist (usually female). The most significant film to do this was Mikhail Kalatazov's 'Cranes are Flying.' Thus, melodrama became popular again for its portrayal of personal turmoil during the Second World War, where the war became "an internal experience ofa small family and a personal experience of the family's members.,,22 The new uses for melodrama took shape in the context of increasing official toleration of an expanded personal realm. This trend continued in the seventies and later, as the private space was subject to less supervision. Melodrama continued to be exploited as a genre in order to address a key issue in Soviet society - the conflict between personal and ideological realities?3 This was due to its ability to explore "the individual within the collective, the private morality underneath the strictures on public performances, the tensions resulting from political manipulations ofhoth public and private morality.,,24 However, since it was officially a genre beyond the pale, melodrama in Soviet cinema was usually "buried under other genre characteristics, until it was unrecognizable.,,25
21 Reynolds and Neuberger, "Introduction." 12-13. 22 Aleksandr Prokhorov, "Soviet family Melodrama of the 1940s and J950s." in imitations C!f Life, 209. 23 Joan Neuberger. "Between Public and Private: Revolution and Melodrama in Nikita Mikhalkov's Slave of Love." in Imitations ofLife. 260.
24 Reynolds and Neuberger, "Introduction," 13. 25 Kleiman. interview.
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Regardless of its tacit use in socialist-realist cinema and post-Stalinist cinematic arts, fihn critics in the Soviet Union wrote about melodrama as a fundamentally
bourgeois genre. 'Bourgeois' melodrama was believed to be a politically conservative form, because its formulaic narrative and its inevitable resolution in the denouement of the f11m invited audiences in bourgeois societies to reaffIrm and not challenge the social order. Therefore, critics generally privileged art and auteur cinema and disliked melodramas. Some Soviet fihn scholars did chide the general tendency of critics to categorize cinema of capitalist societies into elitarian and commercial cinema. By this definition, commercial cinema (under which melodrama was classified) was necessarily bourgeois and reactionary, and elitarian cinema was assumed to be democratic and progressive. In a critique of such stubborn class-based analysis, one fihn scholar reminded his colleagues that Lenin wrote of the existence of 'two cultures,' the bourgeois and the democratic, in capitalist societies. He recommended the use of the term 'diffusion' to suggest that bourgeois and democratic elements can be present in both commercial cinema and elite forms of culture. Neither cinematic form was inherently bourgeois or inherently democratic. 26 Despite the occasional cautionary note such as this one, the predominant tendency of Soviet critics was to see 'progressive' art cinema as a force juxtaposed against 'bourgeois' cinematic fare such as melodramas.
Social and accessible cinema:
Perhaps some formal traits of socialist-realism were abandoned for those of Italian neo-realism, for instance, but certain aspects of this official realism and MarxismLeninism continued to define the basic assumptions about art in Soviet society in the
26 "Metodologicheskie problemy sovetskogo kinovedeniia: diskussiia v redaktsii zhurnala, m Spornoe j besspornoe v izuchenii zarubezhnogo kino," Iskusstvo Kino 12 (1976): 85-86.
188 post-Stalinist decades. These included the privileging of the 'popular' (narodnost) in art forms and the importance ascribed to the social function of the arts. These assumptions about art and its social responsibility and accessibility divided filmmakers in post-Stalinist society. In his discussion of Soviet and post-Soviet film production and distribution, George Faraday proposed that three strategies best characterized the spectrum of approaches to the role of film and the filmmaker in postStalinist society. He called these the 'messianic elitist, 'populist' and 'commercial' strategies, which crystallized in late sixties Soviet society.27 Practitioners of these three strategies held distinctive views on cinema and its public function. The messianic elitist view saw cinema as a purely artistic form with no need to be socially engaging, commercially popular or ideologically conformist. Andrei Tarkovskii was one of the most renowned proponents of the view that film, as an aesthetic form, was an end in itself. Cinema had no edifying function; nor was it a means to entertain. Pandering to mass audience tastes only diminished artistic integrity. As a filinmaker, Tarkovskii had no desire to accommodate the popular audiences, of whom, he estimated, 80 percent viewed cinema as a form of entertainment and diversion. Those who shared Tarkovskii's condescension towards mass cinema saw their own tastes and values as "normative, rather than the product of particular social privileges.,,28 At the other end of the spectrum from the elitist filmmakers were filinmakers who undertook projects to which the party gave top priority. Under Brezhnev, there was a new emphasis on creating cinema of the mass entertainment genre. Many filmmakers were commissioned to make films that were ideologically conformist, yet employed features of entertainment cinema to reach a larger audience; Faraday termed these directors as 'commercial filmmakers.' Many in the cultural intelligentsia associated these
27 Faraday, Revolt, 91.
28 ibid., 95-99
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fihnmakers' strategy with political servility. Vladimir Menshov met with much opprobrium for 'Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears,' which many film specialists and scholars caned a 'fairy-tale' representation of Soviet society, complete with a Cinderella ending and an Oscar to boot. To his critics, Menshov was not a real artist and, like his audience, "not particularly inteHigent.,,29 Such criticism reveals the derision with which mass tastes were regarded by many film pundits, and the general association of such preferences with superficiality and a lack of intelligence. The middle strategy was that of filmmakers like Eldar Riazanov and Vasilii Shukshin, who resented ideological control of cinema, but did believe in using films for "the moral improvement of society.,,30 These filmmakers, whom Faraday calls 'populist,' believed cinema should be widely accessible; in their view, formal experimentation impeded a film's accessibility. The inherent antagonism of many in the cultural intelligentsia towards cinematic fare that encouraged 'entertainment' rather than 'edification' is evident in Riazanov's defense of his work. Faced with criticism about his films, Riazanov stated that it was no sin to "reassure, to encourage the viewer, in order to make it easier for him, to cheer him up, to help him believe in himself, it's not such a sin in my opinion. ,,31 While Riazanov talked about cinema as "real communication" between the socially concerned artist and 'the people',32 Vasilii Shukshin saw cinema as a means to have a "rewarding dialogue" with the audience. 33 The films of these 'middle way' directors may not have possessed the "party spirit," but they certainly conformed to the party's idea of progressive filmmakers working for the benefit of the 'people,' if necessary through social critique. The wide accessibility of Riazanov and Shukshiu's
29 Golovskoy, Behind the Soviet Screen. 77. 30 ibid., 98. 31 Anna Lawton, "Towards a New Openness in Soviet Cinema, 1976-1987," in Post New-Wave Cinema in the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, ed. Daniel J. Goulding (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1989), 9. 32 Faraday, The Revolt, 100. 33 Faraday, The Revolt, 103.
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films and their undeniable popularity with Soviet audiences also confirmed the accessibility (narodnost') of their cinema. Thus, Faraday described their strategy as a "tenuous compromise" between artistic autonomy and conformism.34 The post-Stalinist cinematic field, thus, exhibited a divergence in views on the issue of cinema's raison d'etre: Must a film edify or must it entertain? Alternatively, was a film purely an art form that must be unburdened by social function? Succinctly, the Soviet cinematic approaches that are relevant to our discussion of Soviet film criticism of Indian cinema include the valorization of realism, the general dismissal of melodrama as bourgeois entertainment, and the importance ascribed to art's accessibility and social function. These ideas, however, do not function as a 'master-plot,' but act as guidelines in understanding the context in which critics wrote. Only a discussion of articles and reviews themselves will suggest to us the canonical assumptions critics brought to their writing on Indian ftlms.
b. The post-independence film agenda in India Although there are factors that made Soviet writing reflect Soviet historical circumstances, it is important to consider how contemporary ideas about cinema in India related to Soviet cinematic approaches. In India, the first major state effort after independence to reform the film industry were the deliberations of the Film Enquiry Committee, which finally submitted a report four years after independence in 1951. The report's recommendations for Indian national cinema emphasized an aesthetic of realism and favored a cinema that had social purpose. In a polyglot and multi-ethnic society, a 'national cinema' of realism could facilitate the modernist unifying agenda of the new nation-state. The report criticized the mainstream
34 Faraday, The Revolt, 99.
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Indian popular film industry for producing films "often at the cost of both the taste of the public and the prosperity of the industry.'.3S The state's plea for a 'progressive' cinema was matched by the efforts of filmmakers such as Abbas and other IPTA members engaged in making cinema. In the immediate aftermath of independence, many such individuals in the middle-class intelligentsia (literary and film) began to debate the cultural renaissance in independent India. The new critical discourse on literature and the arts valorized realism, even though realism had played only a marginal role in classical Indian aesthetic traditions. Where western discourses privileged realism and linear time in narratives, the Indian aesthetic tradition had always maintained a nonmimetic view of art. According to ancient Indian aesthetic theory (rasa sutra), art was an autonomous world meant for aesthetic enjoyment. 36 However, many in the urban, educated Indian intelligentsia began to promote westem-style realism consciously, ironically, seeing in it a means to get back in touch with 'authentic India.' The arts, in their view, must narrate in mimetic detail the conditions of social life in independent India. 37
This realism emerged as a 'nation-building tool', "an empathic identification with the underprivileged" and was rooted in the sense of alienation that the urban middle-class experienced in relation to rural India, which they considered to be 'real India. ,38 At the outset, this realism found expression in mainstream popular films (including fJlms such as 'The Vagabond') and non-mainstream cinema of the fifties in India. The quest for a realist cinema continued in the sixties when the state began to finance and promote art
35 Rajadhyaksha and Willemen, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema, 415-416. 36 Although the 'rasa' theory recommended art for aesthetic enjoyment and not for any other social pUIpose, ancient and medieval classical and non-classical Indian literature and theater showed strains of realism. To dismiss 'realism' as foreign to Indian aesthetic traditions would, therefore, not be completely accurate.
37 Chakravarty, National identity in Indian Popular Cinema, 82-86. 38 Chakravarty, National identity in Indian Popular Cinema, 81-82.
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cinema. Until the late seventies, most art films were centered on the theme of systemic rural oppression; subsequently, their focus shifted to the (often middle-class) individual in urban India.39 In general, filmmakers of this 'new cinema' or 'art cinema' have envisioned themselves as "architects of a progressive national consciousness.,,40 A variety of approaches to filmmaking characterized this movement, as articulated in the Introduction. Italian neo-realism impressed filmmakers like Satyajit Ray, who saw cinema as a means to effect social reform. 41 Some filmmakers of the Indian art fIlm tradition were also inspired by the late sixties' Latin American concept of a Third Cinema. Articulated in 1969, this idea came to be applied to national cinemas of some developing countries. A radical political f11m aesthetic, it espoused a cinema that functioned as a tool for political activism, poised against Hollywood and European auteur cinema.42 Given this plurality of influences and approaches, the only unifying principle in Indian art cinema has been its filmmakers' common opposition to commercial films and desire to use cinema for social and political tasks. Cinema in post-independence India demonstrated a new emphasis on realism and social relevance. The middle-class members of the Indian intelligentsia also sought to use their privileged positions to reconnect with 'authentic India,' and to use cinema to communicate social messages to the 'masses.' Although operating in very different contexts, the post-independence Indian quest for a national cinema resonated with many Soviet ideas on the arts and their social function.
39 Chidananda Das Gupta, "Form and Content," in Frames ofMind (Delhi: UBS Publishers' Distributors Ltd., 1995), 113. 40 Chakravarty, National Identity, 239 41 Chakravarty, National Identity, 88 42 Ashish Rajadhyaksha, "Realism, Modernism, and Post-colonial theory," in The Oxford Guide to Film Studies, ed. John Hill and Pamela Church Gibson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 417.
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c. A shared discourse On several occasions, articles written by Soviet critics used Indian news sources or other Indian publications as the main source of information in their work. Moreover, there were frequent interviews with Indian 'progressive'/art filmmakers in the Soviet press, or articles written by them for publication in the Soviet Union. Indian film professionals' statements to the Soviet press may have been shaped by the forum they were using - a Soviet newspaper Ijournal often at the venue of the Moscow or Tashkent festival. Nevertheless, their press statements and interviews illustrate the commonalities in cinematic approaches between many art filmmakers in India and Soviet film professionals. 43
The purpose of cinema Indian art filmmakers and members of the cultural intelligentsia, as we have seen, shared with their Soviet colleagues the view that films and their makers must mold public opinion. In this, and in their opposition to the Bombay commercial film industry and Hollywood, they found common ground. On many occasions, Indian art filmmakers and other film professionals emphasized this convergence of views in the Soviet press. As stated in the previous chapter, one of the earliest Indian film delegations visited Kiev, Moscow and Leningrad in 1951, and was aU praise for the achievements of Soviet cinema. At a press conference with Pudovkin and Cherkasov, these Indian film professionals and their Soviet counterparts talked of the new hope that cinema held for Indian society. Their press conference pronouncements emphasized the task of "honest,
43 We must bear in mind that the Indian discourse on cinema was far from static or unchanging in the years under consideration; Indian filmmakers have frequently rethought their position on the purpose of cinema in India. and reconsidered their aversion to popular films.
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progressive fllmmakers in India to make fllms which will portray the truth and induce the masses to think and make the right choices.,,44 The defmition of cinema as a tool to help audiences comprehend reality and seek redressal for social problems translated into distaste for directors of Indian popular ftlms. Those who made 'melodramas' or 'commercial fllms' were accused of reversing "the wheel of progress," and cinematographers in both countries vowed not to succumb to making fllms about "gangsterism." Such ftlms were held responsible for "instilling confusion among people, leading them to prostration," and "corrupting their psyche.'.45 Abbas launched into a diatribe against commercial fllms in the Soviet press on more than one occasion. He lamented the "harmful import of spy and gangster fllms from America, where James Bond pulls off mind boggling feats and entertains half-naked women." He was pained to see Indian mainstream fllmmakers emulate Hollywood fllmmakers, but was relieved that art fllms made outside Bombay in other regional centers differed in their ''understanding of the demands of life and realism. ,,4{; Other Indian art fllmmakers also believed Indian popular fllms were "symptomatic of an ailing society.'.47 Like most Soviet fJ.lmmakers and ideologues, art fllmmakers and other film professionals in India believed that they had a social role to fulfill. For them, cinema was an "expression of the active position of an artist as a member of society - responsible for that which happens in it.'.48 Mrinal Sen, who won critical acclaim in Soviet festival circuits, declared that it was "impossible" for an artist to remain indifferent to the world around him. It was incumbent on the fJ.lmmaker to invite his audience to question their reality. In his words:
44 RGALI, f. 2918, o. 2, d. 100 (press cuttings)
45 "Nasha tsel' - mir i progress (vstrecha kinematogrq{lStov Indii i Sovetskogo Soiuza)," Sovetskoe Iskusstvo (Moscow), 13 October 1951. 46 K.A. Abbas, "Kollegi RiJja Kapura," Izvestiia, 21 June 1968. 47 Vasant Sathe, "Pust' krepnet nasha druzhba," Iskusstvo Kino 10 (1980): 134. 48 Vasant Sathe, "Pust' krepnet nasha druzhba." 133.
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(The filmmaker) ... is obliged to excoriate social evil ... For me it is important to destroy the neutrality of the viewer; a thinking, contemplative person cannot quietly accept that which is around him. He is obliged to play his role in life. 49
For many Indian filmmakers, Indian reality was its colonial legacy and the social system that was changing perceptibly, and films had to 'assist' people in understanding and tackling this legacy. Thus, the task of the filmmaker was a social duty, not merely an artistic responsibility.
Soviet patronage of national cinemas Given their aversion to commercial cinema, many Indian art filmmakers found in Soviet films a refreshing buffer against Hollywood's influences. Abbas considered that American films glorified sex and violence, while Soviet films were "humane and fined with joy." This is why India's best directors, according to Abbas, looked to Eisenstein and Pudovkin for inspiration. 50 Other art cinema personalities in India also valued Soviet cinema for its 'humanistic values and optimism," and its focus on "social progress" 51 and "the average person with his worries and problerns.,,52 Many Indian filmmakers claimed to draw inspiration from their Soviet mentors. Mrinal Sen remembered that the A.I.F.S.U gave him and others their initial access to Soviet films in colonial India. Sen's interest in cinema began with reading works written by Pudovkin and Eisenstein. Like many Soviet film professionals, he considered all art to be propaganda but not all propaganda to be
49 A. Shal'nev. "Vzorvat~ neitralitet zritelia." Sovetskaia Kul'tura, JO September 1974. 50 K.A. Abbas. "Fil'my u/..1'epliaut dnlZhbu," Kazakhstanskaia Pravda (Alma Ala), 12 March 1964; K.A. Abbas. "Kommertsiia ili tvorchestvo," trans. D. Andreev. Sovetskaia Kul'tura, 4 February 1964. 51 "Serebl'iannaia Roza luchshemufil'mu," Smena (Leningrad), 24 August 1966
52 A. Solodov, "Navstl'echu IX Tashkentskomu ... Dukh sotrudnichestvo," Iskusstvo Kino 11 (1986): 120.
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art;53 his early work was inspired by Soviet cinema of the twenties and thirties. 54 Satyajit Ray, in his interviews with the Soviet press, specifically owed several aspects of his fllmmaking to his Soviet mentors. To Pudovkin, he attributed learning to take cinema seriously as an art form, and to Eisenstein his comprehension of "the intellectual aspects of montage" and offllm as a "convergence of many art forms." Stanislavsky received credit for demonstrating to Ray, ''the importance of the external display of emotions.,,55 Thus, Soviet filmmakers were often role-models, and exposure to Soviet films in early independent India persuaded many aspiring filmmakers to become involved with cinema in India. The admiration for Soviet fllmmakers was extended to the Soviet state. The Soviet government was perceived to be the patron of 'progressive' cinemas, especially in the developing world, which often felt slighted by the west's perfunctory treatment of its filmmaking. The Tashkent fllm festival was an opportunity for filmmakers of developing countries to share their concerns about and experiences in filmmaking. The festival forum made it natural for these film professionals to acknowledge or praise Soviet contributions to cinema of the developing world. Soviet official discourse also articulated the central
role of the festival in recognizing or encouraging the anti-colonial artistic spirit of cinema in developing countries. Soviet ftlm scholar G. Bogemskii perpetuated this idea when he reported on the 'success' of the festival in 1969. He commended the festival for showcasing Asian and African ftlms that revealed their ''progressive'' anti-colonial orientation, their "national consciousness," and their demonstration of technical and financial independence of the west. 56 The Soviet state saw the festival as a forum for the
53 A. Shal'nev, "Vzorvats neitralitetzritelia," SovetskaiaKul'tura, 10 September 1974. 54 Subsequently, his films ceased to be explicitly political and became more nuanced portJ:ayals of individuals and middleclass life. 55 Satyajit Ray, "My-edinnaia sem 'ia," Tskusstvo Kino 6 (1979): 172-175. 56 G. Bogemskii, "Tashkent-68: Zametki s kinofestivalia strany Azjj i Afriki. Mezhdunarodnyi kinofestival' v Tashkente,"
Tskusstvo Kino 1 (1969): 138.
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cinemas of Asian and Mrican countries and as a means to foster its own political and cultural role in the developing world. This idea was mirrored in Indian critical perception of the role ofthe Soviet Union. Film critics and state officials from India and elsewhere in the developing world regularly graced the festivals in Tashkent. Visiting delegates commended the festival for facilitating relations between filmmakers of developing countries with those of socialist countries, 57 and described it as an event where everyone participated as equals. 58 It is important to remember this as we analyze Soviet critics' perspectives on Indian cinema. Their view is not an exclusively Soviet point of view, but one that many art filmmakers in India often shared. Soviet and Indian debates about cinema provide a discursive framework within which Soviet critical writing on Indian films must be understood. The following section will consider the expectations that critics brought to Indian cinema and the evaluations they made in their reviews and articles. Ultimately, it is an examination of the extent to which the 'public opinion' that critics perpetuated reflected the interests of the melodrama audience
SECTIONU
COVERAGE OF INDIAN CINEMA Shunning escapism for social engagement
The larger movie audience in the Soviet Union was mainly familiar with Indian melodramas. However, critics were cognizant of the various streams of cinema in India; after the fifties they were privy to Indian art films at festivals and Indian film-weeks.
57 Vasant Sathe, "Pust' krepnet nasha druzhba," 133. 58, A. Solodov. "Navstrechu IX Tashkentskomu ... Dukh sotrudnichestvo," J 18; RGANI, f. 5, o. 61, d. 89, I. 76-79 (19691970).
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Reviews and articles discussed the first 2 Indian 'progressive films' screened in the late forties and early fifties, the Indian popular films of the fifties (including the festival films), Indian melodramas after the ftfties, Indian art ftlms after the fifties, and Indian cinema in general. I use these writings to discuss critics' textual analyses of films and contextual analyses of Indian cinema, and fmally assess critics' stance vis-a-vis the melodrama audience. The reviews and articles on Indian cinema explored in this chapter, appeared in journals like Iskusstvo Kino and Sovetsldi Ekran, newspapers such as Pravda, Izvestiia, Sovetskaia Kul'tura, the regional press, academic monographs and collections of essays.
What ftlms did critics write about and how did their work relate to movie going reality in the Soviet Union? Were Soviet audiences central or peripheral to critical concerns?
Textual analyses of Indian films Thefirst IndianfiZms in the Soviet Union, 1949-1951
The earliest reviews of Indian ftlms in Soviet theaters appeared in the late forties and early fifties and, understandably, critics' expectations of these ftlms revealed the ideological orthodoxy of the Stalinist period. These reviews discussed 'Children of the Earth' (Dharti Ke LaZIDeti zemli) and 'The Uprooted' (ChinnamooZIObezdoZennye), screened in 1949 and 1951 respectively. Both ftlms were made in the realist tradition and depicted deprivations in rural India, the ordeals of rural migrants in the urban environs of India, and the fallout of the partition of the subcontinent. In the late forties and early fifties, there were no film journals in the Soviet Union and press coverage was minimal. Reviews of these 2 Indian films in the Soviet Union saw critics exploit the moment to engage in a general diatribe. against the British colonial administration, which had left India a few years before these films reached the Soviet
199 Union. The films won critical acclaim for their 'truthful portrayal' of the injustices of colonial India but were found lacking in revolutionary fervor.
R. Fedorov's review in a regional newspaper began its discussion of the film 'Children of the Earth' with a scathing introduction on British colonial administration and the colonial legacy of poverty and hunger that was the "fate" of the "Hindus" (indusskogo
naroda).59 This critic praised the film for its 'truthful' account of India, and its semidocumentary narrative. Fedorov wrote:
No, these are not children of the earth, but impoverished slaves of the soil! The British colonizer robs them and the landlord, the moneylender and treasurer exploit them ... The viewer sees how . .. the happiness of these simple people is destroyed, how not only families, but entire villages perish under this barbaric oppression.
He also praised the film for battling colonial propaganda, which had promoted India as a 'land of wonders' and had concealed from the world the state in which the British had left the country. However, he did note the film's shortcomings, which, he claimed, did not escape the Soviet audience. Where the film failed, according to him, was that it did not portray the struggle of the Indian people against the British; it was not a film that called for action. 60 Two years later, Soviet critics had a similar complaint about 'The Uprooted.' Reviews of the f11m in the newspapers offered lengthy descriptions of colonial politics in India and the tum of events in 1947, about which the film narrates. Reviewers wrote scathing critiques of the British divide and rule policy and the resultant partition of India, which colonial bureaucrats had commanded with no respect for geographical realities. 61 While the film's inspiration was lauded, it was faulted for not demonstrating optimism in 59 Russian speakers often use the term ' indusy' (Hindus) to refer to Indians, although this is inaccurate. Some scholars are reported to refer to renowned Indian historical personalities who were Muslim, as 'indusy.' This causes much consternation among Indologists in the fonner Soviet Union. 60 R. Fedorov, "lndi/a bez chudes," Vechernyi Leningrad, 15 April 1949.
200 its finale. Cinema was to be morally uplifting and all Soviet films of this period ended on a note of high optimism. Critics sought a similar optimism in 'The Uprooted' and failed to find it, as demonstrated in the following excerpt from a review:
While the film showed exploitation and oppression of the peasants, it did not address the question of a way out. It offered no solution. Gandhi's reactionary philosophy of non-violence dictates the film, and the director does not provide a solution. Having shown concretely who the oppressors are, having raised essential social questions for the 'masses,' the filmmaker, nevertheless, does not address the issue of the resolution to this crisis. 62
The socialist-realist insistence on optimism or a rallying can to action had a clear presence in reviews of films in the fifties. Z. Seidmamedova described 'The Uprooted' as anti-colonial, but lacking in revolutionary resonance. She wrote that the narrative did not reflect those important changes that had occurred in the socio-politicallife of India in the preceding years. In her words:
The protagonists of the film do not see a path to a better future. They are far from organized or purposefuL If the director had shown the rising of the people for economic and political reform and the integration of the laboring masses into the struggle for freedom headed by the powerful communist party of India, the film would have had a more effective impact. 63
The desire to have Indian films demonstrate faith in initiative of their' narod' and the idea that the communist party of India should spearhead that effort exemplified Soviet writing of the period. As such, these early films were found wanting because they did not portray the masses acquiring political consciousness under the tutelage of either a capable individual or the Communist party ofIndia. In socialist-realist terms, the films failed in their function of acting to guide the people.
61 Z. Seidmamedova, "Tragediia sOlen millionov," Bakinski; Rabochii, 12 December 1951. 62 P. Dadiani and R. Tabukashvili, "Pod piatoi kolonizatorov," Zaria Vostoka (Tbilisi), 5 December 1951. 63 Z. Seidmamadova, "Tragediia solen millionov," Baldnskii Rabochii, 12 December 1951.
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Although Pudovkin and Cherkasov saw these early films as an indication of a new, independent cinema in India, we saw in preceding chapters that these films did not attract the attention of most moviegoers. The audience was in fact absent in this early press coverage, a factor that makes both these films and their reviews dramatically different from those that would follow in the mid-fifties.
Indian popular films: fifties Indian popular films of the fifties combined the geme characteristics of Indian popular cinema with a self-conscious social agenda, and critics were all praise for these productions. As noted in Chapter 2, the 1954 festival films 'The Vagabond'
(AwaraIBrodiaga), 'Two Acres of Land' (Do Bigha Zaminl Dva bigha zemli), 'Storms' (AandhiyanIUragan) and 'Two leaves and a Bud' (Rahil Ganga) were received with great appreciation by aU sections of the Soviet audience. These and other films that followed in the fifties such as 'Awakening' (Jagritil Probuzhdenie) were inherently anticolonial and socialist in their ideological orientation.
64
F our aspects - the films' social issues, the protagonists' activism and mobilization of the people, actors' performances, and the special geme of the films - were at the heart of critical writing on Indian popular films of the fifties.
Social issues The Indian films shown at the 1954 festival were aU acclaimed for their espousal of the cause of the underprivileged. In general, critics applauded their handling of social injustices and their characterization of the solidarity oflaborers. 65 Reviews written at the
64 Refer to Appendix II for short descriptions of these films. 65 G. Roshal'. "V chern sila i slabost' indiiskikhfil'rnov." LYkusstvo Kino 1 (1955): 89.
202 time of the festival praised the fIlmmakers for fIghting for the redressal of the common people's grievances,66 educating the Indian audience, and seeking to correct social illS. 67 In 'The Vagabond,' Raj Kapoor plays the son of a lawyer who grows up to be a petty thief as a consequence of the company he is forced to keep. Critics praised the fIlm because it portrayed the hero-protagonist as a victim of society, rather than a 'born' social misfIt. Commenting on the fIlm's pronouncement that there is no immutable law by which personality traits, virtues, and vices can be passed on from one generation to another, G. Roshal' approved the argument that it is the social environment that shapes the individual. The fIlm was praised for being of great relevance in a country where "the struggle against class prejudice was acquiring new potency.,,68 'The Vagabond' accentuated the importance of the social above the personal, and for this it won laudatory comments in press reviews:
Criminality is not hereditary, but a social phenomenon. The clear ideological direction of the fIlm gives 'The Vagabond' a clear edge over Hollywood's gangster fIlms. 69 And again:
Environment, social relationships, living standards are what determine the character and fate of a person. The f1lm portrays the pure, sincere love of a people, not driven by petty selflsh interests, but loftier emotions. 70
In the immediate aftermath of India's independence, fIlmmakers were complimented for dealing with issues that critics saw as the colonial legacy in India. In 1956, the fIlm 'Awakening' played in Soviet theaters; it was a f11m about the importance of education in 66 V. Kuzin, '''Uragan', Festival' indiiskogo kino," Sovetskaia Kirgizia (Frunze), 30 September 1954. 67 B. Chirkov, "Dorogie gosti," Komsomol'skaia Pravda, 28 September 1954. 68 G. Roshal', "V chem sila i slabost' indiiskikhjil'mov," Iskusstvo Kino 1 (1955): 90. 69 "Iskusstvo indiiskogo naroda. Kfestivaliu indiiskikhjil'mov v SSSR," Moskovskaia Pravda, 26 September 1954. 70 M. Beliavskii, "Kinofestiva/' druzhby," Sovkhoznaia Gazeta (Moscow), 3 October 1954.
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forming 'ideal' citizens ofa new nation. Once again, a reviewer found the theme of the mutual faith between teachers and young students compelling, and even thought its creative approach to the task of educating children useful for Soviet teachers. 7J In other words, films of the fifties were found to be socially committed and relevant at a time when India had new nation building tasks ahead of it, and social and economic issues to tackle. Soviet critics found Indian films and filmmakers of the fifties to be equal to this task.
Social consciousness
In Stalinist novels, a hero's goal was "social integration and collective rather than individual identity for himself' as he strove to "shed his individualist consciousness" under the tutelage of a conscious mentor. 72 Critical writings on Indian films of the fifties reflected a similar point of departure, praising those films that portrayed the shift from individual consciousness to collective strength. Films that demonstrated individuals' selfsacrifice for the collective good earned critical acclaim. In reviews, the early postStalinist quest for 'truthful' portrayals of reality was combined with the socialist-realist expectation of optimism (yet without naivete), and an appreciation of these films' call to social reform in post-independence India. A. Nikolaev wrote in his review of the festival films:
India's progressive films showed the struggle against social injustice, against the legacy of the past, all the time demonstrating a faith in people, a striving to remove those obstacles that stand in their way to happiness. 73
71 C. Nikolaev, "Probuzhdenie." Zabaikai'skii Rabochii (lma), 14 December 1956. 72 Clark. Soviet Novel as Ritual. 167-168.
73 A. Nikolaev,"Bil'aj Baku." Lellingradskaia Pravda, 30 January 1957.
204 While the pre-festival Indian films had disappointed critics with their characterization of a 'defeated' people, the films of the festival and post-festival years impressed critics with their optimistic ethos. These films were found to resonate with hope and faith in a better future. The sacrifice of love for the sake of a higher ideal also won critical praise. The portrayal of romantic love was insignificant by itself, but when shown to assist the protagonist attain 'consciousness,' critics lauded the characterization in a manner reminiscent of early socialist-realist expectations. 74 Reviews of the film 'Storms' exemplified this writing. In this film, a community rallies to help a lawyer who wants to marry the daughter of a wealthy businessman; it is the selfless act of the second female protagonist, who loves the lawyer but whose love he does not return, that impressed Soviet critics. In his review, B. Chirkov juxtaposed the first female protagonist of "petty bourgeois" background with the other, Rani, who was 'of the people.' He wrote:
The character of 'Rani' in the film 'Storms' is noteworthy because her love is devoid of any egoism. Instead it takes the form of a feat - self-sacrifice in the name of love. The film is an ode to the Indian woman. She is driven not only by her love for the hero but also a desire to rid her people of the landlord. 75
G. Roshal' wrote of the festival films:
In both 'Two Acres of Land' and 'Storms,' the good people are pitted against the evil. In the former, the protagonist tied down by traditional morals does not rise to a struggle, and in the latter, the heroine in the name of her endless love for the protagonist, ignores these constraints. 76
Both critics' attention was caught by the persistence of personal will in the face of obstacles, and the privileging of the social good over personal happiness. The optimism
74 Clark, Soviet Novel as Ritual, 183. 75 B. Chirkov, "Vstrecha s dl'uziami." Novoe Vremia (Moscow) 40 (1954): 19. 76 O. Roshal', "Prela'asnoe nachalo. K itogamjestivalia indiiskikhjll'mov." Sovetskaia Kul'tura, 5 October 1954.
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and social commitment in these narratives were also found deserving of critical appreciation.
In the following examples from press reviews of the films 'Awakening', 'Two Leaves and a Bud,' and 'Storms', emphasis is placed on the narratives' culmination in 'transformation' or 'mobilization.' M. Anisimov's review of 'Awakening' observed that its portrayal of the alteration of old pedagogical techniques to win the trust of young students demonstrated that there were forces in India capable of opposing "outdated" and "irrelevant" practices. He lauded the character of the young teacher in the film, who managed to transform incorrigible students into "model citizens.,,77 V. Chemykh drew attention to the role of the female protagonist in 'Two leaves and a Bud' in mobilizing villagers around a common goal. Her death in the film only convinced the villagers that the path they had chosen was the right one. According to him, the female protagonist's personal misfortunes acted as a catalyst for greater social awareness among the people of her village. 78 Another illustration of this critical expectation appeared in a review of 'Storms,' where V. Kuzin noted that the great social significance of the film lay in its character roles. The character of 'Rani' moved Kuzin because the act of her death was a protest against the power of the 'haves;' the film showed not only "the terrible lot of the Indian poor, but also their growing protest." 79 Reviewers found that' Storms' portrayed a people looking ahead to a "better Hfe," not bogged down by "a sense of doom," but mobilizing to struggle against 'evil. ,80 Characteristic of these early reviews was the critics' appreciation of films that showed the narod as protagonist, displaying the best features of humanity as they acquired political will and collective strength. Here, heroism was not individual, but
77 M. Anisimov, "Probuzhdenie", Udmurtskaia Pravda, 6 January 1957. 78 V. Chemykh. "Dva illdiiskikh fU'ma, " Sovetskaia Kul'tura, 17 March 1955, 79 V. Kuzin, " 'Uragan,' Festival" indiiskogo kino," Sovet~kaia Kirgizia (Frunze), 30 September 1954. 80 V. Kagarlitskii, "Vysokoe iskusstvo. Kfestivaliu indiiskikhfil'mov v SSSR." Trud. 23 September 1954.
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collective; individual characters expressed their anger and protest against oppression on behalf of the people whom they exemplified or represented. The socialist-realist quest for optimist portrayals of the people and the pre-revolutionary characterization of the narod as a collective entity and strength combined to give these critical reviews of early Indian popular films their peculiar quality. Thus, Chirkov wrote in his review of 'Two Acres of Land:'
The characters do not lose their cheerfulness, their optimism, their hope, their faith in the future .... The peasant character in this fllm reflects the most beautiful attributes of the Indian narod.
Chirkov praised these films for epitomizing the spirit of the Indian narod, whom he described as "kind-hearted, loyal and ready to help those in need.,,81 Films about the laboring individual's struggle for happiness and a better life were believed to reflect "the ideas and emotions" of a newly independent and confident Indian narod. 82 Critics praised 'Storms' for its ''vivid portrayal" of the Indian narod and their "fortitude.',s3 'Two Acres of Land' was found to show the narod in an appealing manner drawing attention to ''their honesty, selflessness, and the nobility of their souls." M. Beliaskii was impressed with the "moral qualities" of the Indian narod, who helped "comrades in need despite owning little themselves.',84 'The Vagabond' was praised for its "affIrmation of human virtues" and its "honest and progressive" protagonists. 85 Critics commented on the great "spiritual world of the heroes," 86 and the "destitute but spiritually wealthy Indian people" in Indian films. 87 Films were commended for finally recognizing and acknowledging the
81 ibid. 82 "Kinoiskusstvo Indii, " Leninskoe Znamia (Tennez), 27 January 1957. 83 G. Roshal', "Prekrosnoe nachalo. K itogam jestivalia indiiskikh fil'mov, " Sovetskoia Kul'tura, 5 October 1954. 84 M. Beliaskii, "Kinojestival' druzhby," Sovkhoznaia Gazeta, Moscow, 3 October 1954. 85 G. Alexandrov, "Iskusstvo naroda Indii," Pravda, Moscow, 24 September 1954. 86 N. Rozhkov, "Najestivale indiiskikh kinofil'mov," Vecherniaia Moskva, 28 September 1954. 87 V. Kuzin, " 'Uragan,' Festival' indiiskogo kino," Sovetskaia Kirgizia (Frunze), 30 September 1954.
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impoverished and destitute, who had been out of filmmakers' field of vision until then. Specifically, they were praised for showing the "solidarity of the indigent,,,88 "the poor toilers, ,,89 the selflessness of the urban poor, 90 and "poverty-stricken residents' united front in opposition to the immoral moneylender.,,91 The individual protagonist attained political consciousness and effected popular mobilization, but, ultimately, the real protagonists were the Indian people. This legacy of pre-revolutionary Russian realism and socialist realism in critical discourse was accompanied by the new post-Stalinist appreciation of the 'lyrical' and the 'sentimental.' Below, in reviews of actors' performances, Indian actors won critical praise for their ability to portray characters that demonstrated social awareness in the public arena and sentimentality in personal situations.
Peljormances Viewers remembered these early films fondly for their refreshing emotive style and the stars' acting abilities and on-screen charisma. Critical reviews at the time also accorded praise to these features of the early melodramas from India. Reviewers drew attention to the high artistic level ofthe cast in the films of the fifties. Appreciation of stars' performances was coupled with observations about their screen presence. Raj Kapoor, Nargis (female lead in the 'The Vagabond'), and Nimmi (who played Rani in the film 'Storms') were among those who received positive reviews. Actors like Raj Kapoor were praised for their versatility and masterful acting in the dramatic scenes. 92 Kapoor was found to be outstanding in the cornic scenes as well as the
88 G. Alexandrov. "IslalSstvo naroda Indii." Pravda, Moscow, 24 September 1954. 89 M. Nechaeva, "Festival' kinqfil'mov respublil..:i Indii," Iskusstvo Kino 11 (1954): 109. 90 ibid., 112. 91 ibid .. 113. 92 B. Babochkin, "Pl'avdivoe, samobytnoe iskusstvo," Literaturnaia Gazeta, 25 September 1954.
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lyrical and tragic episodes, investing his role with "psychological depth.,,93 He was praised as an actor with "great emotional energy." 94 Nargis received her fair share of critical attention in the press. Reviewers attributed the success of the film to her "masterful and tactful performance," and her ''physical beauty."
9S
M. Nechaeva found
Nargis "courageous" in the courtroom scenes and "feminine and gentle in the lyrical scenes with her 10ver.,,96 The female star Nimmi won many a critic's appreciation with her portrayal of the self-sacrificing 'Rani' in 'Storms.' B. Bortkov praised both her physical appeal and her character in the film when he wrote: "Her beautiful face and large melancholic eyes are so expressive that the narrator's voice is redundant. The touching, charming characterization of a simple girl 'of the people' - is one of the finest female characterizations in the festival films.,,97 The appreciation for the 'feminine' portrayals in the film, the recognition of the 'lyrical' quality of the scenes, and the admiration for the 'psychological' dimension of roles reflected the general transformations in the post-Stalinist cultural sphere. Socialist realism's privileging of the public and the ideological slowly succumbed to the new quest to consider the personal and inner realms of an individual's world.
Genre Observations about the novelty and distinctiveness of the festival ftlms' genre were a constant refrain in viewers' retrospective accounts of the appeal of Indian films. Contemporary critics shared this view of early Indian popular ftlms in the Soviet Union. The revived appreciation for new artistic forms as long as they were socially committed meant critics accepted several aspects of the Indian film form such as music and dance as 93 M. Nechaeva, "Festival' kinofil'mov respubliki Intiii," Iskusstvo Kino 11 (1954): 112. 94 N. Rozhkov, "Nafestivale intiiiskikh kinofil'mov," Vecherniaia Moskva, 28 September 1954. 95 B. Babochkin, "Pravdivoe, samobytnoe iskusstvo," Literaturnaia Gazeta, 25 September 1954. 96 M. Nechaeva, "Festival' kinofu'mov respubliki Intiii," 112. 97 B. Bortkov, "Uragan," Trud, 6 October 1954.
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long as these were used in a way to enhance the plot, and not distract from it In their writings, reviewers expressed awe at the 'national form' that the films took. 98 While foreign to Soviet films in general (except for musicals), Soviet critics considered that the use of music made Indian cinema an "original art form" (svoeobraznoe iskusstvo). Roshal' wrote of the festival films: "The music and dance and the precision of the movements remind us of ancient Indian miniatures and frescoes.,,99 Critics found the music to be appropriate, because it played a role in the development of the narrative by "giving expression to a spectrum of emotions." 100 They found that the songs revealed the "inner world of the hero,,,IOland that music was appropriate to the various episodes and kept viewers riveted. 102 In fact, the songs and the music were seen to enhance characters' emotional expressions. When the actor stopped speaking, the music took over the role of portraying his or her mood. 103 These early writings demonstrated a willingness to accept films that combined realism with the generic elements of Indian popular films. However, critics were quick to point out the occasional 'lapses' that detracted from the realism of the films. Melodramatic excesses were cautioned against, as "melodrama could incite tears, but not invoke ideas."I04 The dramatization of certain personae, such as the villains, did not impress critics. Such dramatism was considered in some cases to border on the absurd, especially when villains did an abrupt volte-face in the film's climax scenes. I05 For instance, it seemed to critics that anti-heroes who suddenly became emotional and
98 M. Nechaeva, "Festival' kinofil'mov respubliki Indii," 111. 99 G. RoshaI', "Prekrasnoe nachalo. K itogamfestivalia indiiski1chfil'mov," SovetskiJia Kul'tura, 5 October 1954. 100 V. Kuzin, .. 'Uragan', Festival' indiiskogo kino.".
101 E. Tisse, "Kinoiskusstvo indiiski1ch druzei," Vecherniaia Moskva, 24 September 1954. 102 V. Orlov, "Razgovor s druziami," Iskusstvo Kino 5 (1957): 136 103 A. Romm. "Kinofestival' mira i druzhby," Izvestiia, 23 September 1954. 104 V. Orlov, "Razgovors druziami," 131
105 M. Anisimov, "Probuzhdenie, "UdmurtskiJia Pravda, 6 January 1957.
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helpless in a film's climax lost their credibility or truthfulness as characters. 106 Critics also found fault with the tendency in some Indian ftlms of the period to include long monologues accompanied by beatific smiles.107 Sometimes reviewers explained such elements in a film as culture-specific features of Indian cinema. R. Simonov, for instance, suggested to his readers that certain exaggerated, unrealistic, "grotesque" characterizations were borrowed from the folk theater tradition in India, and their use in Indian films was, therefore, legitimate. lOS Others explained such 'lapses' as symptomatic of the deleterious influence of western cinematography on Indian melodramas. I09 In general, reviewers' praise for the ftlms' optimism, the perception of the heroprotagonist as being a metaphor for the Indian people, the appreciation of the ftlms' portrayal of solidarity and the theme of consciousness-raising were characteristic of prerevolutionary and socialist-realist discourse. The new post-Stalinist legitimacy attributed to portrayals of everyday life (bytovaia zhizn ) and the personal sphere of human experiences ensured that the social-critical melodramatic form of Indian popular films of the fifties also met with reviewers' appreciation.
Indian popular films: after the fifties
The transformations in Indian popular cinema after the fifties led to changes in Soviet critical writing on this cinema. Despite the popularity of these ftlms among moviegoers, Indian melodramas screened between the sixties and the eighties in Soviet theaters rarely received reviews in the Soviet press. If covered at all, these 'commercial' films served as illustrations of the 'problems of Indian cinema,' or as a launching pad to write about the more 'deserving' art films of India. With the exception of Raj Kapoor's
106 N. Rozhkov, "Nafestivale indiiskikh kinofil'mov," Vecherniaia Moskva, 28 September 1954. 107 V. Orlov, "Razgovor s druziami, " 135 108 R. Simonov, "Uragan," Pravda, 29 September 1954. 109 B. Babochkin, "Pravdivoe, samobylnoe iskusstvo," Llteraturnaia Gazeta, 25 September 1954.
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subsequent films, Indian melodramas after the fifties usually met with unappreciative comments in the Soviet press. Critics appreciated Kapoor's films in the fifties and continued to give his melodramas press coverage until the end of the Soviet period. In an article on Kapoor, critic Iu. Filippov praised the filmmaker for combining melodramatic portrayals, the star system, the use of elaborate interiors and original song-dance sequences in a highly professional manner, borrowing from the tradition of Indian folk theater. 11 0 So Kapoor's employment of standard Indian melodrama formulae was 'compensated' by the skilled manner in which he used these features and their rootedness in folk traditions. Commenting on the romance of Raj Kapoor's films, another film scholar praised Kapoor's films for offering 'realistic,' social commentary in a form that was attractive to the mass audience. III However, Kapoor's films were an exception in critical commentary on Indian melodramas. After the fifties, Soviet critics wrote unfailingly about the regrettable influence of Hollywood cinema on Bombay's commercial films, even as Soveksportfil'm continued to purchase these films in India. In these decades, Soviet critics viewed Indian melodramas or commercial films as a vehicle for 'bourgeois ideology.' According to Romil Sobolev, melodrama had "every right to exist, like any other kind of film (except for boring cinema)." He contended however that these films reflected "bourgeois interests" and 'evaded' reaHty.1l2 Others argued that Indian melodramas led the audience to believe that India had no poor, unhappy or homeless people, since these films portrayed no social problems. Indian melodramas, which "taught you to be 'honest, patient, obedient, trust
110 Iu. Filippov. "Brodiaga i drugie," Pravda Vostoka (Tashkent), J3 October 1987. III Dal' Orlov, "Prodolzhenie i nachala," lskusstvo Kino 8 (1981): 168. 112 R. Sobolev, "Mnogolikii E/a'an Indii. Zametki ob indiiskom kino, " Iskusstvo Kino, 5 (1972): 176.
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that good will vanquish evil and to be content with less," were juxtaposed against Indian art cinema that dealt with India's social ills, but was still unknown to Soviet audiences. 113 Critics had a problem with Indian melodramas' formulaic plots, also a shortcoming of Hollywood cinema in their view. Commenting on Indian popular films' sentimentality, unrealistic happy end, and the poor girl-rich boy theme in another article, Sobolev disparaged these films not only for their seeming 'lack of relevance' to society, but also for their formal traits. The formal characteristics that met with his disapproval included "excessive theatricality," "primitive montage" and "long winded scenes," which no amount of "gloss" and ornamentation could conceal. Sobolev did not spare the Indian audience, which he believed did not watch these filins for their content and instead "worshipped" their "handsome, happy and beloved starS.,,114 Given this general critical dismissal of melodramas, coverage of Indian melodramas after the fifties was at best sporadic and minimaL Journals such as Sovetskii Ekran ran frequent announcements of imminent filin releases. There are many examples of blurbs that announced an Indian melodrama soon to be released and offered a brief synopsis of the film's story and cast. The Indian melodrama "Embers" was announced in Sovetskii Ekran with a description of the plot and the novelty of the film's genre for Indian cinema. The advertisement in the journal announced that Indian melodramas with their "laughter, tears, happiness and suffering" were favorites with many Soviet viewers. The reader was informed that 'Embers' was the first Indian 'western,' with elements peculiar to Indian melodramas. There was little other detail offered, with the exception of information about the cast and the studio in Moscow that had dubbed the film. I 15 These film announcements serve as examples of non-critical writing on Indian melodramas in
113 N. Mashkina, "India. dalekaia i blizkaia, " Vostocho-Sibirskaia Pravda (Irkutsk), 27 December 1987. 114 R. Sobolev. "Zametki ob indiiskom kino, " MifY i real 'nasi: zarubezhnoe kino segodnia (Moscow: ls/;;usstvo, 1972), 306. 1J5 "Reklama: ,}.1est' i Zakon. ", Sovetskii Ekran 9 (1979): 19.
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the Soviet press. Aside from this kind of promotional coverage, very few articles took the trouble to review a melodrama. Some sman write-ups on India in Sovetskii Ekran's 'Kinorama' section gave news of India's film industry and took the opportunity to criticize the 'deplorable quality' of its commercial films. A news item on India's film industry crossing the 450 films per annum mark in production lamented the production of socially irrelevant films that were box office hits, with little else to recommend them The item cited the example of 'Embers' as a film which broke all box-office records in India, but was symptomatic of a cinema that was "banal" and "uncaring of India's socio-political problems."J]6 The occasional review of an Indian melodrama was more an attempt to persuade the reader of the worthlessness of the genre and the virtues of socially relevant cinema. Although 'Disco Dancer' attracted more spectators than an domestic and foreign films in the repertoire in 1984, V. Zius'kin subjected the film to a relentless critique in a local Sverdlovsk paper. He described the film as a typical product ofIndia's commercial industry as illustrated by the "unconvincing development of its narrative." While the dancers were most skilful in the film, the makers of the film were incapable of developing the plot in a credible manner. Zius'kin conceded that viewers were easily satisfied with the songs, dances, the beauty of the stars, and the ostentatious interiors of the homes, but the audience must be trained to be more exacting in its demands. He compared the extravagance in this film to Indian art films that showed problems such as "destitution," "poverty" and "despair." The critic dismissed 'Disco Dancer' as lacking in credibility and artistry, adding that even the smattering of weB-choreographed dances could not save the film.117 Narratives about India's art cinema were juxtaposed against this backdrop of
116 "Kinoramallndiia," Sovetskii Ekran 13 (1977): 5.
117 V. Zius'kin. "Brilllanty najone meshlwviny, " Vechernyi Sverdlovsk. 6 August 1984.
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"Hollywood influenced" entertainment cinema, Soviet critics wrote of Indian melodrama and Indian art cinema as two cinemas with different agendas. Scholars suggested that any society fragmented by class divisions was inclined to produce two cinemas - one bourgeois and one progressive and anti-bourgeois.
118
Indian cinema was seen as a site of
contestation, where formal approaches and end goals were pitted against each other. This contestation was described as a conflict between "traditional and new perspectives," realism and non-art genres and "progressive humanistic ideals and reactionary values." It was characterized as a struggle between "those who believe in the transformative strength of cinema, in the socio-political potential of film art, in its educational functions, and those for whom cinematography is merely a means of obtaining revenue." I 19 This perspective determined the exclusion ofIndian melodrama from discussions about cinema as art (instead, it was discussed as a problem) after the fifties.
'Art cinema ': after the fifties At the same time that critics grew disillusioned with Indian popular films, they found a new cause in Indian art cinema. Soviet film scholars vociferously advised Soveksportfil'm officials to import more such films, as demonstrated in the preceding chapter on import policy. Some of the Indian art filmmakers who won critics' appreciation after the fifties were Satyajit Ray, Mrinal Sen, Shyam Benegal, Govind Nihalani, Ketan Mehta and Girish Karnad. Films such as 'The Adventures of Gopi and Bagha,' 'Soldier,' 'Interview,' 'Role,' 'Cry of the Wounded,' 'Night's End,' 'Spices,' 'Churnh'1g,' 'Book' and others were reviewed and/or analyzed in Soviet film journals and the press. Among these films, only 'Role,' 'Cry of the Wounded,' 'Book' and 'Night's
118 R, Sobolev, "at Bombeia do Kal'kutty," Sovetskii Ekran 13 (1987): 5, 119 L. Burliak, "lndiiskii kinematogrq( fil 'm j zritel '." Kino stran Azii i Afriki (Moscow: Znanie narodnyi unive,,,Uet, 1983).48,
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End' were purchased for distribution in the Soviet Union; other films discussed here were reviewed after a film-week or festival in the Soviet Union, or after their release in India. As discussed earlier, after the fifties Soviet critics treated L'1dian art and popular cinema as mutually exclusive. In critics' view of Indian art cinema, the 'progressive' filins and social-critical popular films of the fifties led 'naturally' to the art or parallel cinema of the late 60s, which came about at the direct intervention of the Indian government. This art cinema included within its fold directors with radically different approaches to filmmaking, who evinced a "difference in style, tone, and texture, in sensibility and inspiration, in politics and ideology.,,120 Soviet critics recognized, however, that the majority of Indian art filmmakers had in common their belief that cinema had a social function and their opposition to Indian melodramas and commercial cinema. 121 Lipkov also wrote that art cinema did not have a common program, but these filmmakers shared "their rejection of the canons of commercial cinematography.,,122 The virtue of this art cinema for both Indian critics and their Soviet counterparts was its attention to the less privileged sections of society. Critics considered these filmmakers to be firmly rooted in reality and in touch with the peasant or the worker at the mercy of social and economic transformations in modernizing India. This was articulated by V. Skosyrev in the following manner:
Filmmakers who raise serious social issues in their films are asserting themselves in India. Their protagonists are real - peasants, at the mercy of an oppressive landlord, artisans and petty bureaucrats, who try unsuccessfully to penetrate or move up the social ladder. They ... have not distanced themselves from issues of modem reality and have rejected canons of Hollywood cinema. 123
120 Chakravarty, National Identity, 237-238 121 I. lvegentseva and N. Zarkhi, "Poisk. vseliaushchii nadezhdu. Zametki paste nedeli indiiskogo kino
lskusstvo Kino 12 (1976): 152-153. 122 A. Lipkov, "Novae 1I1diiskoe Kino." lskusstvo Kino 12 (1978): 168. 123 V. Skosyrev, "Lil>i Vo/shebnogo Zerkala: zametki ob indiiskom kino," izvestiia, 22 August 1973.
v Moskve,"
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For Soviet critics, thus, Indian art cinema was legitimate, primarily, because of its aversion to commercial cinema and its featuring of 'real Indian' protagonists. In their reviews, critics and journalists drew attention to four characteristics of art films: the films' social messages, their portrayal of popular mobilization, their social relevance, and their conscientious filmmakers.
Form vs. social message In the Thaw years and later, critics appreciated the use of fantasy, melodrama or other non-realist elements in an art fihn, as long as such generic features were effective and enhanced the theme of the fllm.
An example of an early departure from socialist realism in Soviet critical writing is the review of Indian filmmaker Satyajit Ray's 'The Adventures of Goopy and Bagha'
(Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne/Gopi i Bagha), a children's film that used fantasy to explore issues of war, peace and social justice. In this fantasy for children, Gopi and Bagha are two young musicians who inadvertently get embroiled in an intrigue between two royal courts. Reviewers of the film commended it for its use of music and for its "clever mix of fantastic events and beautiful music." The f1lm was appreciated for its two narrative levels. It was "on the one level, a fantastic tale ... and on the other level, a tale of human relationships and their problems today.,,124 This review appeared in the press in the sixties indicating the early acceptance of fantastic elements and other formal experimentation in cinema. Form was of import in critical evaluations of art cinema only insofar as it obstructed or enhanced the social message of the film; this is evident in a review of the film 'Soldier' (Soldier/Soldat), demonstrated in a f1lm-week in Moscow in 1981. The
124 "Realizm cherez fantazliu, " Za Rubezhom, no. 29 (1965). Soviet correspondents, based in India, wrote this article upon the film's release in India.
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reviewers defined the problem of youth unrest that the film addressed as one that confronted India, West Europe and America. According to them, the film belonged to the stream of Indian parallel cinema in which the influence of western existentialism, especially French avant-gardism, was most evident. Despite the deep social relevance of the film's discussion of the problem of political and youth unrest in India today, "the fragmented montage, sound effects, the numerous dimming and brightening effects that occur with kaleidoscopic speed" rendered the film ineffective. Formal experimentation turned a social discussion of the political climate of the country into "a lesson in film techniques." The critic also found that the film's formal traits rendered its political ethos reactionary. She wrote that the fUm's "lack of clarity and its abstractness" led the viewer to the "dangerous conclusion" that revolutionary struggle was "hannful.,,125 For the critic, realistic portrayals tended to be robbed of their impact in overly abstract treatments. We have seen that, as early as the fifties, critical writing seemed open to melodramatic features if they were used for the transmission of social messages. Films made in the mainstream melodramatic tradition, such as 'The Vagabond,' 'Storm' and others, had won critical appreciation for their "national form" and, simultaneously, "realistic" social narratives. Similar accommodations were made with regard to later-day
art films that borrowed elements from popular cinema. Shyam Benegal's 'Role' (BhumikalRolj raised the issue of women's oppression in its treatment ofa woman's rise to stardom in the fUm world, but it used a melodramatic plot and music. Critic L. Budiak found the use of the melodramatic genre compelling, the music effective and the actors' performances successful in transmitting the message of this fi1m. l26 In fact, critics commended Indian art filmmakers who sought to make their films accessible to a larger spectatorship in India. By the eighties, directors of art cinema
125 L Zvegentseva, "Problema molodezhi v "novom" kino Indii," Kino i Vremia. Vypusk 4 (Moscow: Iskusstvo, 1981), 259-260. 126 L. Budiak, "Indiiskii kinematograf fil'm i zritel, '" 46.
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increasingly co-opted techniques from Indian melodramas in order to win a larger viewership for their films. Art films in the eighties were fast-paced, slick and used elements of mainstream cinema, such as music or well-established stars. Soviet critics approved this trend because if cinema must mold public opinion, it must have a large audience. Lipkov appreciated Govind Nihalani's ftlm 'Cry of the Wounded'
(AakroshiKrik Ranenogo) because it was really a social analysis of crime rather than a regular who-dun-it, and yet it was capable of competing successfully with mainstream adventure ftlms. 127 Filmmakers who used features of folk theater to deal with issues of social injustice also won critical praise. Lipkov praised Ketan Mehta's 'A Folk Tale'
(Bhavni Bhavail Bhavni Bhavai), which was made in the tradition of national folk theater, and showed the "humiliating oppression of untouchables and their struggle for a humane existence." Lipkov found that the filmmaker had handled the theme originally, combining realism with theatrical dramatics. 128 In his opinion, Mehta's use of folk theater made this socially significant fIlm widely accessible and, therefore, potent in its call for reform. That the post-Stalinist willingness to accommodate other formal techniques was not unlimited is illustrated in Lipkov's review of Indian filmmaker Guizar's 'Book'
(KitablKniga Zhizm). The critic was all praise for the ftlmmaker's "deep and accurate" observations of life. He wrote with admiration of the ''truthful and genuinely moving episodes" in the ftlms, but thought the fIlm to be a tearjerker. The music was forced and the lyricism bordered on sentimentality, Lipkov wrote. Clearly, in this critic's opinion, not all Indian fIlmmakers straddled the divide between art and popular cinema effectively. 129
127 A. Lipkov, "Trudnyi vybor," Sovetskii Ekran 10 (1984 ): 10-11. 128 A. Lipkov, "Adres sovremennost"', Iskusstvo Kino I (1982): 165. 129A. Lipkov, "Novae indiiskoe kino," Iskusstvo Kino 12 (1978): 167.
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The consciousness-raising trope Some features of socialist realism persisted in Soviet writing until the late eighties. Reviews and articles about Indian art cinema after the sixties continued to applaud the 'consciousness-raising' trope in films. Films that portrayed optimism and the emergence of protest against oppression continued to meet with critical appreciation in the Soviet press. Mrinal Sen's fllm 'Interview' was explicitly political and addressed social biases in post-independence India. 130 In 'Interview,' the protagonist is a young man from an impoverished family who fails to get a job because he turns up at his job interview not in a suit, but in "national clothes." The critic, pleased with the film's symbolism, wrote: "The young man's fury and despair are symbolic of the mood of the people; the f11m acquires a decidedly anti-bourgeois thrust."l3l Similar appreciative observations about the consciousness-raising aspect of certain films and the consolidation of a community around one protagonist made regular appearances in writings on Indian cinema in the following decades, demonstrating the endurance of this central feature of socialist realism in f11m criticism. Soviet critics continued to praise films that portrayed the shifting of the hero's consciousness from the personal to the social realm. They deemed a film worthy of even more approbation if the rousing of the hero's political will also involved the simultaneous mobilization of an entire community around him or her. What made Shyam Benegal's 'Night's End,' (NishantiKonets Nochi) a film about rural oppression, an example of 'progressive' art? The film narrates the story of a schoolmaster and his wife who come to a village where they become victims of the feudal landholding system. The rich landholders abduct and rape the wife. The schoolteacher resolves to kill the oppressors
130 Rajadhyaksha and Willemen, Encyclopaedia, 404. 13l "Iskusstvo, vernoe zhizni," Za Rubezhom 46 (1971): 31.
220 and in doing so, mobilizes the entire village to help him. 132 The critic, Iu. Korchagov, complimented the film for its realism, its "truthful portrayal of the characters' way of life," its lack of ostentation, and the absence of exaggerated emotions and song and dance sequences. Korchagov claimed that the popular mobilization at the end of the film enhanced the story line. The hero's inability to accept the disregard and indifference of others in the face of social injustices and his transformation from an irresolute victim to a "conscious fighter" constituted a character portrayal that met with Korchagov's approval. The metamorphosis in the hero affected the villagers who mobilized around him. 133 Korchagov wrote other reviews of Indian art films and here too his attention was riveted by the consciousness-raising trope in the films. In a general article on Benegal as filmmaker, the same critic approvingly observed that the themes of Benegal's films included peasants' struggle for social progress, their "liberation from religious superstitions and prejudices," and the position of the Indian woman within the family. In these films, the critic noted, the characters were never submissive or passive; rather, Benegal showed "the awakening of the social consciousness of people and their spiritual strength.,,134 Lipkov also commended Benegal's
mms because they were "a realistic
portrayal of the Indian village" and demonstrated the inevitability of resistance in these communities. 135 Themes of consolidation of popular power and popular resistance have been common to many Indian art films (as was the case many mainstream commercial films also, although the absence of a serious debate on Indian melodramatic cinema precluded a discussion of this). When an Indian film-week was held in Moscow in 1984, Utpalendu Chakraborty's f1lm 'Eyes' (ChokhiGlaza) won critical appreciation in the Soviet Union.
132 Rajadhyaksha and Willemen, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema, 425
133 L. Budiak, "Indiiskii kinematogrr.if: kino i zritel," 45-46. 134 Iu. Korchagov, "Za idealy svobody, " Sovetskaia Kul'tura, 4 May 1982. 135 A Lipkov, "Indiiskaia derevnia v zerkale kinematografa, " in Kinoiskusstvo Azii i Afriki (Moscow: Nauka, 1984), 82.
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This is a fascinating example of how reviews sometimes completely skirted the main issue addressed in a fIlm, if it was considered politically expedient to do so. The illm was made in 1982 and was set in the period of the Emergency in India (1975-77), when the Indira Gandhi government suspended civil liberties for several months. The illm is about a trade union leader who is falsely accused of murder and sentenced to be hanged. When he decides to bequeath his eyes to a blind worker, the factory owner orders them ~o be destroyed in order to put out the revolutionary flame that burned in them.136 The fIlm was a critique of Indira Gandhi's politics, but Soviet critics could not write in a manner that would compromise political relations with the Indian government. So instead, this is how one critic described the fIlm. According to Irina Zvegentseva, the fIlm was about the inhuman and illegal trade in human organs that had "spread all over America and West Europe and now India"! Aside from this neat side-stepping of a politically sensitive issue, Zvegentseva, like other critics, found admirable the manner in which the death of the hero-protagonist acted as a catalyst for large-scale protests. She wrote, "It is in their consolidation that their real strength lies, capable of radically changing their impoverished lives." Although ending on a positive note, the film was happily (in the critic's opinion) "devoid of naive optimism."J37 Zvegentseva's appreciation of the ftlm's portrayal of consolidation and solidarity and her approval of its positive program for action and humanism were typical of critics' expectations of Indian art cinema. Most art fIlms spoke of the rural or urban underclass and were determinedly consciousness-raising fIlms. K.Hariharan's 'The Seventh Man' (Ezhavathu
ManithanlSed'moi) narrates the story of a young man, who graduates from an engineering college and moves to the province. Here he takes up the cause of workers, whose problems and lives he understands. He succeeds in forming a union and having their
136 Rajadhyaksba and Willemen, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema, 454. 137 I. Zvegentseva, "Shto videli gloza Jadunatha?, " /skusstvo Kino 6 (1984): 145-146.
222 enterprise nationalized. Korchagov lauded the film's theme of consciousness-raising and termed it a respite from "the usual melodramatic flights of fantasy or utopian films of Bombay." 138 Similarly, Lipkov's review ofKetan Mehta's 'Spices' (Mirch
MasalalKrasnyi Perets) published in Sovetskaia Kul'tura as late as 1987 found the worth of the film to be its revolutionary fervour. Set in colonial India, the film narrates how the women of the village close ranks against the oppressive colonial tax coHector. 139 Lipkov praised the film because it had none of the "cliches of a commercial film." He appreciated the film's message that "resistance or lack of submission can revolutionize the rest" and that the "only worthy choice for a person is that of a fight or struggle.,,140 Critics showered praise on films that showed the transformation of the character from a passive and resigned individual to one who, in his or her rage and determination, was able to inspire the same transformation in others.
Films' social relevance A typical review of a film was one that discussed the film's handling of a social issue and the efforts of the Indian state to resolve the problem in India. The position of women in Indian society was one that many filmmakers in the art cinema tradition addressed, and Soviet writers accompanied their analysis of films with a discussion of the social problem itself. Reviewing an Indian film-week held in Moscow, Irina Zvegentseva and Nina Zarkhi praised one of the films that addressed the position of women in India. The critics framed their review of the film in a discussion of women's rights and access to education in India. The reviewers not only presented and discussed the social problems tackled in the film, but also the efforts of the Indian government to eliminate
138 Iu. Korchagov. "Litmm k litsu s deistvitel 'nostiu. Segodnia natsionai 'nyi prazdnik Indii - den' respublilci," Sovetsk£lia
Kul'tura. 26 January 1984. 139 Rajadhyaksha and Willemen, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema, 472. 140 A. Lipkov. "Krasnyi perets," Sovetskaia Kul'tura, 9 June 1987.
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discrimination against women. The article only perfunctorily mentioned the formal traits of the screened films. 141 Another illustration of this tendency is V. Skosyrev's write-up on Mrinal Sen's 'The Rank and File' (PadatikiRiadovoi). This review was chiefly a discussion about the political situation in the state of West Bengal. The fJJm is about a young man who gets involved in the Naxalite movement (Maoist), which emerged in West Bengal in the late sixties. 142 Skosyrev commended the Bengal state government for its efforts in easing the city's problems and workers for being active in trade unions there. However, he lamented that popular discontent, channeled inadequately by trade unions, was taking form in Maoist extremism. In his review of Sen's fJJm, Skosyrev focused his discussion on the growth of the Naxalite movement, particularly in Calcutta; he considered these extremist practices to have yielded no results. The critic observed that the strength of Sen's film was that it raised this issue and confirmed ''the realist principles offJJm art in India." Skosyrev did not make a single reference to the formal aspects of the film. 143 Reviews emphasized the importance of cinema in resolving what critics saw as a conflict between old and new in India. Here the obstacles to be removed were "old prejudices and conservative traditions," and the weapon to fight these obstacles was cinema in the hands of a socially committed state. According to Zvegentseva, cinema as a tool for propaganda could assist in the enlightening mission of the state, especially because it played a major role in the lives of Indians. 144 Similar statements on the value of 'problem films' (problemnyefil'my) recurred frequently in reviews.
141 1. Zvegentseva and N. ZarldJi, "Poisk vseliiaushchii nadezhdu,"146-168. 142 The Maoist NaxaJites organized peasant uprisings in Bengal (their base was the village ofNaksalbari; hence their name). As Maoists, they found no sympathy in the Soviet Union.
143 V. Skosyrev, "Prozrenie. lskusstvo za rubezhom," iZllestiia, 29 April 1974. 144 1. Zvegentseva, "Progressivnoe kino Indii v bor'be za ravnopravie zhenshchin," in Mify j real'nost': zarubezhnoe kino
segodnia, Sbornik statei. Vypusk 7 (Moscow: Iskusstvo, 1981), 243-244.
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Mrinal Sen's films were considered praiseworthy because Sen touched on many
problems of modem life in India. According to D. Kucherenko, these problems were the "gradual impoverishment of rural India as a result of complex social transformations" and the "migration offarmers to the City.,,145 Benegal's films, such as 'The Churning' (Manthan! Dvizhenie), where the peasants ultimately decide to form their own co-
operative to sell their produce, received critical appreciation. The film showed "a conflict between the new and the old, in the form of a state-run milk co-operative competing with a capitalist venture." There was no discussion of film technique in this review essay, except to inform the reader of the director's proclivity for documentary-style
Critics found it of paramount importance that cinema address social issues and reminded fllmmakers of their function. Thus Lipkov wrote that it was the obligation of filmmakers to make fiI.ms that addressed India's problems and helped "India into the future, with the legacy of the past and the problems of the present resolved.,,147 Film was primarily a means to facilitate the socio-economic development of a country, and a good film was one that was topical or raised social issues in an accessible manner. It was the filmmaker who bore the enormous responsibility of using cinema to guide India's destiny, by drawing attention to the conflicts that characterized Indian society
Filmmakers as mentors
Critics described art cinema as a tool in the development of India and in the molding of public opinion. However, the intelligentsia would have to use this tool effectively to reach a wide audience and propel India 'forward.' Reviews of films
145 D. Kucherenko, "Ostravi realizma. Zavershilas' nedelia indiiskogo kino," Pravda Vostoka (Tashkent), 16 October 1987. 146 Iu. Korchagov. "Zhizn'vsotsial'nom rakurse: Shyam Benegal i egofd'my," IskusstvoKino 2 (1985): 158,160,163. 147 A. Lipkov, "Beskonechnost' otkrytii," Sovetskii Ekran 16 (1988): 20-21.
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highlighted the political orientation of the filmmaker and his role as one who inspired people to act or initiate social reform. Mrinal Sen's early films were an attempt to develop a political cinema, which would be a tool of agitation and propaganda. Soviet critics commended him for using his films to appeal to the people to reflect on changes in the left movement in India, address the problem of a "corrupt national bourgeoisie," and provide impulse to revolt in collective struggle against "reaction." Like other filmmakers ofthe developing world, "he (Sen) is engaged in the socio-political struggles in his country, and only wants to destroy that art, which propagates a bourgeois ideology and tries to thwart the social activism of the people.,,148 O. Kitsenko's review of Indian filmmaker Komal Swaminathan's film 'An Indian Dream' (Oru lndhiya Kanavul Boevoi
Kliuch) attributed the reformist nature of the film to the progressive strivings of its filmmaker, and to the general perception of South Indian film directors that cinema is a "democratic art." The film tells the story of an intellectual, who takes up a tribal cause against police and political persecution. According to Kitsenko, the filmmaker's effort demonstrated "the struggle of the democratic intelligentsia against the corruption of the bureaucracy." The review dealt mostly with the history of the South Indian film industry, and was replete with statements of the filmmaker on the subject ofthe function of cinema. 149 The film was never shown in Soviet theaters or the festival circuits; its review demonstrates that critics' sphere of work and influence was far removed from the reality of movie going in the Soviet Union.
Four features characterized writing on Indian art cinema after the sixties. Firstly, formal technique was significant insofar as it enhanced the social idea of the film. Critics
148 Budiak, "Indiisldi kinematogr(!{: kino i Zl'ite/. '" 30. 149 O. Kitsenko. "Utverzhdaia novoe.lsialsstvoza rubezhom," Pravda,!7 October 1984.
226 tolerated most fonnal traits, unless these features obfuscated the social content of the film, and rendered it difficult for the audience to comprehend the film's message. Secondly, critics continued to appreciate films that demonstrated the rousing of protagonists' consciousness and praised their optimism. Thirdly, their writings demonstrate that a discussion of the social issues that a film raised was also the preserve of the critic or reviewer. Lastly, filmmakers in this cinema were accorded special attention for their efforts to draw attention to social issues. Theme and the social engagement of film and filmmaker were by far the most important consideration in critical reviews of Indian art films.
Contextual analyses Film reviews and articles about Indian cinema, both melodramas and art films, became an occasion to discuss the context of Indian film production. Two classical Marxist assumptions about mass culture shaped Soviet critical writing on Indian cinema. Critics working in this tradition were interested in the forces of production that made cinema possible and the impact of mass culture on audiences.
Cinema and the state Soviet critics and commentators wrote India's film history from the perspective of the post-1947 state and were concerned with the role the Indian government played in promoting art cinema and countering the commercial film industry. Early writings on Indian cinema ofthe fifties saw the cinema of the post-independence period as a regenerative force. It was a new socially conscious cinema, which was being redefmed by 'progressive' forces after years of colonial supervision. Critics wrote of the problems that
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the film industry had endured under colonialism These were film censorship and the competition Indian films faced from "corruptive" imported cinema. 150 The efforts of the independent Indian state to bolster the film industry and exercise a tempering influence on the role of entrepreneurs and big business in the mm industry never failed to get appreciative mention in the Soviet critical press. Critics reported every state effort in India to promote progressive cinema and film education. When the Indian government instituted a national awards panel, established a new fllm institute and provided more funds for special fllms, the Soviet press got wind of it. 151 Romi! Sobolev wrote that India's ability to promote modem forms of art such as cinema and maintain popular cultural traditions could only be attributed to the efforts of the Indian democratic government. 152 Unfailingly the Indian state was commended in an articles and reviews for what was seen to be its positive role in the promotion of art cinema in India. 153 Articles about Indian cinema as an industry or a film art often appeared in the Soviet press on the anniversary of India's independence. Such articles used the occasion to trace the history of cinema in India and its problems. Commemorating India's 19th anniversary of independence, one film scholar wrote an article on the "resurrection" of Indian cinema. After highlighting the various new facilities the Indian state had made available for aspiring filmmakers, the critic lamented the main 'problem' of Indian cinema. This was the unchecked growth of commercial films and the influence of big business and profit motives in the Indian fllm induStry.154 This remained a refrain in critical writings on Indian cinema.
150 G. Krem1ev, "Iskusstvo ind/Iskogo naroda: kfestivaliu indilskikhfil'mov v SSSR," Moskovskaia Pravda, 26 September 1954. 151 V. Borisov, "Kino Indii, " Gor 'kovskii Rabochii, 16 November 1960 152 R. Sobolev, "Mnogolikii Ekran Indii: zametki ob indilskom kino," Iskusstvo Kino 5 (1972): 179. 153 R. Sobolev, "Ot Bombeia do Kal'kutty," Sovetskii Ekran 13 (1987): 4-5. 154 I. Vaisfeld, "Rozhdenie novogo," Sovetskaia Kul'tura, 16 August, 1966.
228 Critics stressed the great potential of the Indian state in ensuring that 'progressive' cinema was unhindered in its growth, while commercial cinema's reach was checked. Every offer of financial help and technical support from the Indian government for art filmmakers received appreciative mention in Soviet critical writing. 155 Critics concluded that the limited resources of the state caused many filmmakers to turn to industrialists for fmancial backing, thus ensuring that commercial films predominated on the screen. 156 In their opinion, the logistics of commercial filmmaking meant these films could not boast of sophistication or quality. While the films of the fifties and sixties, influenced by the freedom movement, had propagated the "restructuring of society and ideals of freedom and equality," subsequent commercial films or melodramas had become "standard productions without any psychological depth.,,157 In Soviet critical writing, the film as text was only part of the story; economic forces (the 'base') coupled with the political circumstances of fllm production were considered equally deserving of attention in a film review. Articles that discussed new agreements in the fields of culture or cinematography were published in journals such as Iskusstvo Kino. They provided an overview of the bilateral commercial and non-commercial exchanges of films, film festivals and joint production of fllms. Goskino officials used the film press to discuss cultural relations and the 'successes of the fllm trade. 15S Aspects of cinema that had little to do with fllm texts and everything to do with production, distribution, and inter-state relations were a prominent feature in film publications and newspapers.
155 S. Vaniashkin, "lndiislwe kino: uspekhi i problemy," Sovetskaia Kul'tura, 13 November 1973. 156 G. Mar'iamov, "lndiislwe Kino, problemy i tentientsii," lskusstvo Kino 5 (1971):152,159-160. 157 O. Kitsenko, "Mir indiislwgo kino," Pravda, 1 June 1987. 158 F.r. Ermash, "Novyi etap sovetslw-indiislwgo sotrudnichestva i sodruzhestva kinematografii, " Iskusstvo Kino 4 (1981): 150-154.
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Cinema and audience The Soviet idea that cinema was a truly democratic art form meant that critics considered crucial the question of theater infrastructure and accessibility in their discussion of cinema. Soviet studies on the proliferation of cinema halls and their accessibility in the Soviet Union were abundant. These concerns were transferred easily to a country such as India, where the newly independent state was articulating its postindependence plans for the creation of a 'national culture.' Soviet critics wrote often about the theater infrastructure in India, either as a prelude to reviews of festival films or as an introduction in articles on the state of Indian cinema. Just how democratic was cinema in India and how accessible was it, they wanted to know. For instance, writing in the seventies, G. Mar'iamov found that more needed to be done to facilitate greater accessibility to the movies in India, in areas outside the metropolises. 159 The Indian audiences' love for melodramas was treated with condescension in the Soviet press, and reviews of art films or interviews with art filmmakers were accompanied by a discussion of the problem of audience indifference to art cinema in India. Critics' and scholars' concern was that the audience in India was not being shaped into a reflective, contemplative viewership and was influenced by 'escapist' cinema. Critics were consistently perplexed at the immense popularity of Indian melodramas among the domestic audiences in India. The explanation they offered for this was that Indian viewers were entirely different from the European or Soviet viewer in that they enjoyed the ''parallel universe (vtoraia zhizn ') these films portrayed."I60 Critics found the Indian audience incapable of discriminating between good and bad cinema, ''the most accomplished ftIm and the most inferior quality commercial product," and between
159 G. Mar'iamov, Kino Indii: problemy I tendentsii, 152. 160 Iu. Lepskin, "Indiiskie zriteli, leto oni," Komsomol'skaia Pravda, 25 Februaty 1990.
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movies about real life and movies that deliberately take the viewer into an illusionary world. Sobolev was unable to comprehend that revenues from melodramas were rising in India. He suggested that those who lived in poverty went to the movies in search of oblivion, "to watch a happy, beautiful life unfold on screen.,,161 Much to Sobolev's chagrin, however, even highly educated Indians who "had the ability to appreciate Dostoevsky ... ," watched these movies. 162 Other critics found the Indian audiences unprepared for art fUms because of the high illiteracy rate, and thought art filmmakers needed to do more to bring their fUms to the audiences. Zvegentseva, for instance, commended art filmmakers who borrowed elements from commercial fUms to make their films accessible to a larger audience. 163 Discussions about Indian audiences were replete with references to either their naivete, or their lack of sophistication and training in film appreciation. In their efforts to discredit Indian melodramas, these fUms' popularity in India was seen as a product of the 'psychology' of the Indian audience. While the Indian viewer was the object of much concern to Soviet critics, who saw in them the classic illustration of the 'narcotic effect' of mass culture, the Soviet viewer was practically absent from Soviet critical writing.
Critics' rift with the mass audience Critics worked and wrote in a space that allowed little room for what the audiences were really watching. Explaining critics' position, Kleiman stated: "In the post-Stalin era, the film critic was opposed to ideological cinema/films commissioned by the party and to commercial cinema like Indian popular films."I64
161 R Sobo1ev, "Zametki ob indiiskom kino," 303. 162 R Sobo1ev, "Zametki ob indiiskom kino," 303. 163 I. Zvegentseva, "Indiiskii sovremennyi kinematograf: poisk zritelia," in Problemy gumanizma i antigumanizma v sovremennom zarubezhnom kino. Shornik nauchnykh trudov (Moscow: Vsesoiuznyl Nauchnyi-issledovatel'skii institut kinoiskusstva (VNHK), 1985), 107-109. 164 Kleiman, interview.
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In the case of Indian melodramas, the initial, as yet undisturbed convergence of tastes between state, critics and audience was strikingly demonstrated in their reception of the fIrst Indian fIlm festival. Some critics remembered 'The Vagabond' as being a "phenomenon for everybody," for the intelligentsia and the mass audience. 165 According to Kleiman, 'The Vagabond' was successful with critics because it stood in deep contrast to Stalinist cinema and it presaged the cinema of the Thaw period; critics and the larger public responded with favor to the fIlm. Film scholars and critics, like the respondents and interviewees in this project, recalled the deep impression the fIlm and its music made on them. 166 The general audience's sympathy for Indian melodramas was documented in the critical press and was not considered problematic since critics had received the fIlms with unstinting praise and admiration and even appreciated their 'entertaining' features. With the appearance on the Soviet screen of many Indian popular fIlms that the Soviet cultural vanguard considered less socially engaged, critics and the mass viewership parted ways on the subject of Indian popular cinema, as indeed on the subject of 'fIlms for the masses.' The chasm between critics and the 'mass' audience in the post-Stalinist years was a widely acknowledged fact among critics and moviegoers in the Soviet Union. The Soviet movie audience of the thirties had been coerced into cohesion due to the relative homogenization of the fIlm repertoire, but the audience of the fIfties began to show signs of differentiation, typical of movie audiences in democratic societies. The new, more diversifIed fIlm repertoire of the late Khrushchev and Brezhnev years led to a corresponding "destruction of the audience cohesion that had lasted for two decades.,,167 More domestic films were made that gave sympathetic accounts of individual lives
165 Kleiman, interview; Turovskaia, conversation. 166 Turovskaia, conversation; Lipkov, interview. 167 Julian Graffy, "Cinema," in Russian Cultural Studies, ed. Catriona Kelly and David Shepherd (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 183.
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instead of glorifying political heroes, and the import of foreign films was resumed. Consequently, different auditoriums re-emerged for the various kinds of cinema in the repertoire. As audience cohesion began to dissipate, the convergence between the interests and tastes of the "elite" and the "mass" audience began to give way to a spectrum of film preferences. 168 The mass audience remained steadfast in its admiration for melodramas and films that offered the audience a glimpse into private worlds. Research conducted into audience tastes in the fifties and seventies established again that melodrama, whether foreign or domestic, tended to attract the greatest audiences. J69 The identification of the mass audience with films of this genre ran counter both to official canons on cinema and critical standards of film aesthetics and appreciation. The works that were highly valued by the critics sometimes drew few audiences, while those dismissed by critics as 'kitsch' had audiences queuing up and fining the theaters. 170 Implicit in the divergence of views between most critics and the mass audience was the assignment of values to cultural tastes. Critics and filmmakers generally believed they were the 'guardians of moral and cultural values.' Correspondingly, mass culture came to suggest "banality" or "simple tastes" in critical and academic discourse. 17J The remoteness of critical writing from the preferences of the 'mass audience' was not without controversy in the Soviet Union. Criticism had always had an elevated status in Soviet aesthetic doctrine; critics were meant to engage in the aesthetic education of the 'masses.' 172 Sociologists despaired of critical monologues that were eloquent, but
168 M. Turovskaia. "K probleme massovogofil 'ma v sove/skam kino," Kinovedcheskie Zapiski 8 (1990): 72. 169 Turovskaia, "Kprobleme massovogofil'ma." 77-78. 170 A. Karaganov, "Kino i bitel,'" Sovetskii Ekran 13 (965).
171 Turovskaia, "K prob/eme massovogofil'ma," 72. 172 Evgeny Dobrenko, The Ma"ing of the Soviet reader. Social and Aesthetic Contexts of the Reception afSoviet
literature. trans. Jesse M. Savage (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), 17-19.
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took no notice of the real
audience. 173
Maia Turovskaia, a scholar who has taken the mass
audience's preferences seriously in her work, recalled that critics and scholars were often unwilling to accept that there might be a legitimate reason why Soviet audiences continued to watch Indian melodramas. She once conducted her own sociological experiment in the 1970s at a conference in the Baltic region. At the conference, one film scheduled for screening was the Indian melodrama 'Flower in the Dust.' During the show, not one of her colleagues at the conference left the auditorium, despite having pronounced that Indian melodramas no longer had anything to recommend them. When they emerged from the theater, however, they promptly lapsed into a discussion ofIndian melodramas' shortcomings. Turovskaia's argument was that many critics and scholars enjoyed such fare, but refused to concede or acknowledge the emotional pleasures moviegoers derived from these films. 174 Kleiman made an analogous observation with his statement that Soviet critics after the fifties failed to understand that Indian melodramas filled a void for the audience. According to him, Indian popular cinema was "fantasyfilled conventional cinema" that moved the audience, and "critics' indifference to this spectatorship's predilection for such entertainment was their sin.,,175
Conclusion The substance of critical writing was L'1 direct contrast to the realpolitik underpinnings of the import policy. While the state allowed strategic concerns and pragmatism to rule its decisions, critical writing did not pay heed to Indian melodramas (promotional write-ups about melodramas did exist, but they do not qualify as critical writing) and favored Indian art films instead.
173 v. Vil'chek, Razmyshleniia 0 174 TUIOvskaia, conversation. 175 Kleiman, interview.
sot.~iologii
kino, in Kino i Vremiia. Vypusk 6 (Moscow: L~kusstvo. 1985), 84-85.
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As an interpretive community, critics wrote that cinema should explore social reality and act as an impetus to the dialectic of change. With this understanding of cinema's role and the perceived 'lack' of social engagement in Indian popular films, these melodramas fell by the wayside in Soviet film discourse. They merely provided a convenient backdrop against which the 'sincere' efforts of 'progressive' Indian filmmakers could be framed or measured. Reviews and articles that appeared in the press and academic circles treated melodramas only sporadically, and never as art worthy of appreciation. Critics assumed the task of explaining the 'state ofIndian cinema' and its problems, making the main body of Soviet film criticism "social problem writing. ,,176 In fact, the vocabulary that critics used was distinctive, and completely at variance with that used by Indian melodrama admirers while narrating their recollections of Indian popular films. Critics mainly dwelt on 'problems,' 'social issues,' and the 'progressive' leanings of filmmakers; most Indian film admirers talked about emotional comfort, the appeal of the 'exotic,' romance and 'good values.' Critics' privileging of art films to which few in the audience had access and their almost complete indifference to the Indian melodramas that ran in packed movie theaters demonstrate the disjuncture between what critics appreciated and promoted as genuine film art and what many in the audience valued as entertaining cinema.
176 Brashinsky and Horton, R1L,sian Critics on the Cinema o/Glasnost,' 3.
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Chapter 4 THE PUBLIC PERSONAE OF INDIAN MELODRAMA ADMIRERS
'The yogi in the ticket-qneue'
Although the interests of the melodrama audience exercised influence on official policy, the presence and popularity of these films was not unproblematic as indicated by the nature of contemporary Soviet media and academic discourse on Indian cinema. In this chapter, I am concerned with the influence of the ambivalence of the state film apparatus (importers and critics) on audience participation. Movie enthusiasts had a public presence in post-Stalinist Soviet society both as the subject of contemporary sociological research and as authors ofletters they sent to filmjournals and Goskino. This chapter proposes to clarifY the sociological position on the popularity of films from India and analyze viewers' own letters on the subject ofIndian cinema. It seeks to understand the engagement between this audience and its critics, both acting as interpretive communities, in order to assess critical mediators' sphere of influence and Indian melodrama admirers' opportunities to negotiate dominant views. What did the attitude of importers and cultural mediators mean for the participation of Indian melodrama admirers in the public space that cinema constituted? Did these viewers have opportunity to express their views on Indian melodramas, and if they did, how did officials and critics respond to these expressions of support in public forums? In this chapter, Section I explores Soviet sociological surveys and articles for their perspectives on the melodrama audience. Section n discusses audience mail on the subject of Indian films in Soviet theater repertoires. Letters to Goskino and viewers' letters written to andlor published in film journals between the fifties and the eighties
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together help construct an image of an avid, articulate and productive movie spectatorship.
SECTION I THE 'PROBLEM' OF THE MELODRAMA AUDIENCE
Soviet film sociology As explained in the Introduction, film historians acknowledge the role that
discourses outside the cinema play in determining audience readings of cinema, referring to this as the inter-textuality involved in film reception. This chapter proposes to understand how ideas and judgments perpetuated by cultural mediators on the subject of spectatorship helped shape the discursive framework within which the public participation of moviegoers occurred. Critics had minimal interest in the preferences of the melodrama audience, but sociologists acknowledged the presence of these moviegoers and attempted to understand their expectations of cinema. What does their work suggest about how the audience for melodramas (Indian and other) was described and grappled with? In cultural mediators' perception, did spectators who relished Indian popular ftltns have a legitimate presence in the audience? Sociologists in the Soviet Union began to express concern about the effects of cinema as early as the 1920s, when its 'pernicious' influence began to be acknowledged in Europe and the United States. In the twenties and thirties, American and British sociologists conducted research into the power of mass consumption cinema to lead a public to 'moral decay.' They used surveys, questionnaires and the participantobservation method to assess audience responses to films. These projects were concerned with evaluating the social composition of audiences, but the main source of anxiety for
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sociologists was the "deleterious" effect of mass consumption cinema. I This approach to studying movie audiences was influenced by the Frankfurt School of the 1920s, which regarded mass culture as "aesthetically and politically debilitating, reducing the capacities of audiences to think critically.,,2 Sociological studies of the movie audience in the Soviet Union also began in the twenties with the goal of determining audience tastes and creating films that would be accessible to ''workers and peasants," while remaining true to the task of the Party. Soviet sociologists conducted surveys of f11m audiences with the help of questionnaires distributed before a movie show. However, this method proved inadequate as the viewers had to answer 26 questions in the survey while waiting for the film to begin; naturally, they wrote their responses in haste. Other sociologists tried to conduct participantobservation work in the spirit of early Russian anthropologists, by watching and recording audience members' reaction to various moments in a film. 3 These efforts to document audience reception of the movies came to a halt in the 1930s, when sociological studies were banned in the Soviet Union. With Stalin's death, the cultural ferment of the period spilled over into sociological studies, and research into movie audiences was resumed in the sixties. 4 VGlK began to conduct classes in film sociology in 1963. In 1968, the first seminar on
f11m sociology and the importance of understanding the 'film process' in its entirety (this
1 Kim Schroder, Kirsten Drotner, Stephen Kline and Catherine Murray, Researching Audiences (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003), 29-36; 63-66. 2 Chandra Mukeiji and Michael Schudson, "Introduction," in Rethinking Popular Culture: Contemporary Perspectives in Cultural Studies (Berkeley: University of Ca1ifomia Press, 1991), 37-39. 3 L.N. Kogan, Kino i zritel. ' Opyt sotsiologicheslwgo issledovaniia (Moscow: Iskusstvo, 1968), 13-17. 4 For a comprehensive discussion of post-Stalinist developments in sociology see Dmitrii N. Shalin, "The Development of Soviet Sociology, 1956-1976" in Annual Review ofSociology 4 (1978): 171-191; Liah Greenfeld, "Soviet Sociology and Sociology in the Soviet Union" in Annual Review ofSociology 14 (1988): 99-123. However, there are no references to film sociology in these works. ".
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included the production of the f11m, publicity/propaganda aspects of distribution and reception) was held under the aegis of the Union of Cinematographers in Moscow. 5 Since the capital had the only fIlm institutes in the country, Soviet fIlm sociology also had its base here. The Institute for the Theory and History of Cinema (subsequently renamed the Institute for ScientifIc Research in Film Art) in Moscow conducted major surveys of movie audiences in urban and rural areas between the sixties and the end of the Soviet era, often in association with regional administrative offices and academic institutes. None of these surveys was exclusively concemed with foreign fllm audiences. In fact, while imported fIlms had a pronounced presence in the surveys of the sixties, they only had a sporadic place in surveys oflater decades. 6 However, articles on audience preferences published between the sixties and the eighties assessed the audience for both domestic and foreign fIlms using a combination of the empirical fIndings of surveys, audience letters, and theoretical generalizations on audience types. Here, references to Indian melodramas were frequent. Researchers who conducted surveys and wrote about the audience were sociologists, historians, philosophers and fIlm scholars. L.N. Kogan was one of the pioneering sociologists active in Sverdlovsk and he was responsible for two major surveys into audience preferences in the sixties. After these two initial projects that explored the movie audience, he withdrew from the fIeld of fIlm reception. Among the most Ubiquitous names in Soviet audience research is that ofN.A. Lebedev, a fIlm scholar who conducted courses in sociology at VGIK. Others include I.E. Kokarev and M.I
5 See I.E. Kokarev's report in Problemy sotsiologii kino. Materialy zasedaniia Soveta po koordinatsii nauchoissledovatel'skikh rabot v oblasti kinovedeniia (Moscow: VNIlK, 1978), 219-222. 6 M.I Zhabskii stated in a personal communication to this author that sociologists faced policy constraints in working on audiences for foreign films. This has yet to be confirmed by other sociologists.
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Zhabskii, who were trained in philosophy, G.M. Lifshits, a historian, and I.A Rachuk and R.N. Iurenev, who were art historians.? The ftrst major sociological survey to be published in the post-Stalinist period was conducted by L. N. Kogan between 1960 and 1964 in Sverdlovsk; its fmdings were made public in 1966. This survey was concerned with the reception of literature, theater and cinema among different segments of the population in Sverdlovsk. Research was conducted among 7847 movie goers in various areas of Sverdlovsk, in order to gauge differences in aesthetic tastes between workers, intelligentsia, office employees, students and others. Of the respondents, 35.8 percent were workers, and 31.8 were intelligentsia; the rest were office employees, students and others. Approximately 35 percent were above 35, and the rest were between 16 and 35 years of age. A majority of those surveyed, 58.5 percent, had a middle-level or higher educational background. s In 1965, L.N Kogan undertook a major project exclusively concerned with movie
preferences of audiences in the Urals, in the cities ofNizhnii-Tagil, Kamensk-Ural'skii, Serov, and the villages ofKashino, Kirov and Savinovo. 9 Of the 3 questionnaires used, 2 were distributed among rural and urban moviegoers in their residences and workplaces, and the third in local movie theaters. The proffie was considered to be representative of all social groups, demonstrating diversity in age and educational backgrounds. 10 The fmdings of a sixties survey on movie going in Taganrog were used by ftlm sociologists
7 With the exception ofKokarev and Lebedev who worked at the Institute or Cinematography, all these film sociologists worked at the Institute for Theory and History of Cinema; here, LA. Rachuk was also head of the department for research on mass communication and film sociology in the late seventies. 8 L.N. Kogan, Khudozhestvennyi vkus. Opyt konkretno-sotsi%gicheskogo issledovanii (Moscow: Mys/, • 1966), 14. 9 In the preamble to their publications, sociologists usually explained why a town being surveyed was considered suitable for research. Selected towns or villages were considered 'typical,' in that they had a specific type of socio-demographic profile; it is possible that areas were selected if their local administrators cooperated and facilitated work with the local population. 10 L.N. Kogan, Kino i zritel. ' Opyt sotsi%gicheskogo issledovaniia, 35.
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for their analyses on audience preferences; however, the researchers did not provide any information about their sampling procedure. I I In the seventies, surveys were conducted by the same institute in the Vladimir
and Sobinskii provinces. Using the random sampling strategy, 435 moviegoers were approached in four local theaters. Of these respondents 58.4 percent lived in the city of Vladimir, while the rest were movie goers from nearby villages. More than half were male respondents. Approximately 26 percent had either completed or were enrolled in higher educational institutions, and roughly 28 percent were in vocational education. The rest were students in high school or lower grades. The single largest group was that of office workers, who made up 35 percent of the sample. 12 Data was also collected in the provinces of Gorkov and Twa between 1974 and 1976; approximately 2000 respondents completed questionnaires on the movies. Thirteen hundred were distributed in Gorkov province, while 603 were distributed in Twa. The article that used these fmdings did not elucidate the methodology or the sampling strategy, although the data was shown to demonstrate that variation in aesthetic tastes and preferences depended on factors such as education, age and profession. 13 The survey conducted at this time in the city of Shchekino in Twa was used to draw conclusions about genre preferences among 289 residents of the city. The fmdings suggest that respondents belonged to diverse age groups and demonstrated varying levels of education. Unfortunately, these surveys did not describe the sampling methods and the demographic profile of the respondents. Researchers also collected information about local movie going habits in Tol'iatti and Tarzhoksk, in Kalinin province. The surveys
11 I. E. Kokarev, "Problemy tipologii kinoautiitorii, ~ in Kino i zritel, ' ed. Z. G. Kutorga (Moscow: Institut Teorii i Istorii Kino, 1978), 102-113. 12 B. Dolynin, "Kalina Krasnaia-slagaemye uspekha," in Fil'm i ego autiitoriia, ed. P. P. Erofeev (Moscow: Institut Teorii i Istorii Kino, 1977),37. 13 I. P. Lukshin, "Sotsial'nyi portret sel'skogo kinozritelia," in Sel'skaia autiitoriia kinematografa (Moscow: Institut Teoriii Istorii Kino, 1979), 64-94.
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were conducted among 533 and 399 respondents, respectively, and their findings published in the early eighties. 14 Audience typologies and general articles on audience preferences were based on such surveys, as well as viewers' attendance statistics and data collected by other interested organizations. Often, in these towns, data was simultaneously collected through group discussions with respondents. In the Urals survey of 1965, for instance, critics and film specialists were also asked to evaluate films so comparisons could be made between
the preferences of the lay audience and specialists. On occasion, survey fmdings were also compared with viewer mail sent to film journals. Among the above mentioned surveys, only the 1965 project in the Urals resulted in an entire monograph on the subject of the movie audience. After this survey, no known publication was completely devoted to the conduct and fmdings of a single survey on audience preferences. Survey fmdings were most often published in articles, and formed the basis for general ruminations about the nature of the Soviet movie audience and the direction f11m policy should take. These sociological projects exemplified the quantitative approach to studying audiences. Citations from Marxist-Leninist philosophy were the solitary theoretical references in them. Surveys established the genre preferences of the respondents, the percentage of viewers influenced by reviews as opposed to recommendations of friends in their choice of film, and rural-urban differences in genre preferences and f11m attendance. Sociological work was mainly utilitarian and was concerned with determining the efficacy of the various state mechanisms in raising the aesthetic 'cultural level' of the masses. As cinema was considered the most important of all mediums, surveys were meant to assess its accessibility and investigate factors influencing movie attendance in 14 M. I. Zhabskii, "Kinematograjkaksotsial'naia tsennost (sotsial'no-psikhologicheskii aspekt)," in Kinoautiitorija ifil'm.
Sotsio[ogicheskie problemy kino, ed. E. v. Afasizheva, M. v. Kotel'nikov, G.M. Lifshits and I. A. Rachuk (Moscow: VNIIK, 1982),41-42.
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cities and provinces. Several projects were concerned with the effectiveness offilm publicity and lectures aimed at 'enlightening' the public on matters of art. Sociologists were interested in unraveling the movie audiences' proclivities and preferences for the purpose of identifying problem areas in film distribution and production and guiding the audience in 'improving' their appreciation of cinema. The validity of the quantitative fmdings of these surveys is difficult to establish since the original surveys are not available for study, and pUblications do not consistently explain research methods. However, these surveys and articles are of tremendous importance for their descriptive assessments of Indian films' appeal for Soviet admirers, which were based on audience letters and sociological research. These surveys reveal to us the evaluative criteria sociologists, as an interpretive community, brought to these films and their spectators. They are essential because they make explicit the sociological point of departure on Indian melodrama audiences, and demonstrate the manner in which movie audiences were gauged and assessed. These expectations of the spectatorship were a part of the cultural repertoire viewers brought to their readings of ftlms and to the expression of their preferences in public forums. Below, I consider sociological data and articles on the movie audience that appeared in Soviet monographs, edited volumes, and film journals between 1963 and 1991. The following discussion is concerned with sociologists' classifications of the movie audience, their descriptions of spectators who enjoyed Indian melodramas and their recommendations for handling the 'problem' of audience admiration for entertaining films.
Audience classifications:
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A basic premise in sociological studies of the movie audience was that the viewer in Soviet society was a 'soviet' viewer. IS This meant that the Soviet spectator was primarily a citizen of the frrst socialist state, one who had experienced the fruits of the building ofa communist society.16 Sociologists perpetuated the idea that Soviet viewers were much more discerning than their foreign counterparts in evaluating films. Some described the western viewer as exclusively interested in westerns, thrillers or melodrama, 17 and proposed that a larger proportion of the Soviet movie audience preferred cinema that inspired reflection and was informative. Film scholars spoke of the "rich spiritual world" of the Soviet viewer and used letters sent to journals such as
Islatsstvo Kino and Sovetskii Ekran to illustrate that the Soviet audience could discuss genre and other technical questions and was capable of appreciating complex and sophisticated cinema. IS Sociologists argued that even if entertaining, light fllms often had the highest viewer turnout, they were not always highly evaluated by their aUdience. 19 Others noted some viewers' complaints about the repertoire and the predominance of Indian and French films that rendered it difficult for moviegoers to fmd "interesting" films. 20 This type of audience mail was said to demonstrate that the audience was discerning and possessed the capacity to offer keen evaluations of fllms. Audience researchers conceded, however, that the movie spectatorship was not homogeneous, and exhibited various levels of fllm appreciation. As early as the sixties, sociologists admitted that in a society 'moving towards social equality,' some differences
15 L.N. Kogan, Kino i zriteI, , 10-11. 16 I. A. Rachuk, "K probleme izuchenia suvetskogo zritelia," in Kino i zriteI,' ed Z. G. Kutorga (Moscow: Institut Teorii i
Istorii Kino, 1978), 10. 17 Z. G. Kutorga, "Gorodskoi zrite/' i khudozhestvennyi kinematograf," in Kino i Gorodskoi zritel.' Sbornik nauchnykh
trudov, eds. P.P. Erofeev and G.M. Lifshits (Moscow: Institut Teorii i Istorii Kino, 1978),32. 18 N. Kiiashchenko, "Kino i zrite!'," Sovetskii Ekran 2 (1963): 10. 19 Zhabskii, "Kinematografkak sotsia/'naia tsennost, '" 71-72. 20 M v. Kotel'nikov, "Molodoi zritel': otnoshenie k kinematogrqfu," in Sotsiologicheskie problemy kinoprokata, (Moscow: VNIIK, 1986),55.
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would continue to prevail between social groups. They acknowledged that many spectators sought cinema for respite and entertainment, but they found problematic that these moviegoers watched entertaining films to the exclusion of other film genres. 21 Under such circumstances, sociologists considered it useful to construct typologies that they hoped would help shape the film repertoire and identify problem areas in molding audience tastes. These audience classifications gradually crystallized into one based on the audience's expectations of cinema. The earliest known attempt at audience classification is that ofN.A Lebedev, who set up a rather unsystematic typology of the audience. He based his classification of the audience on their 'aesthetic potential,' that is, their 'level of artistic development.' According to his typology, the first group of viewers was that of children, whose aesthetic and life experiences were minimal, and whose tastes were limited to animated fllms and other children's films. The second group was that of teenagers, whom he described as the fastest changing group in terms of their aesthetic development. They demonstrated the early influences offamily, school and environment in their aesthetic tastes. They generally preferred detective films and westerns among other such genre films. The third group consisted of the "vseiadnye" or the 'omnivorous,' who enjoyed 'the movies' in general, instead of seeking a specific film genre. This group included people who went to the movies for want of another form of diversion and those who were fanatic about the movies and did not miss a single film. Lebedev placed fans of entertaining cinema in the fourth group. These viewers, about one-third of the surveyed audience, expressed a preference for light films, comedies, detective films, westerns, melodramas and musicals. Together with the first three groups of children, teenagers and the 'omnivorous,' these viewers exercised significant pressure on the shaping of the film repertoire. Viewers who were raised on classical and modem realist art expressed a
21 Kogan, Kino i zritel, ' 10-11.
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corresponding preference in cinema and belonged to Lebedev's fifth group of viewers. They watched fIlms to relax, but also sought cinema that engaged the mind. The sixth group consisted of viewers who were not only able to appreciate classical works, but also the more complex films. The last group of viewers was that of 'film-snobs' or kinosnoby who were drawn to "modernism" in film art. In general, Lebedev's classification of viewers was considered pioneering but unsuitable for a real understanding of the audience because it was partly based on the age factor and partly on viewers' expectations at a film show. 22 The surveys that followed were more systematic in the audience typologies they offered. In 1978, the Institute for Theory and History of Cinema prepared a new typology
based on expectations that audiences had of films, and suggested that there were 4 types of audience. For the first type of audience, cinema inspired reflection on contemporary problems and encouraged responsibility among viewers. Such an audience found cinema essential in developing one's capacity to think independently. The second type of audience believed a film had an instructive function; this audience did not seek reflection or nuanced interpretations of complex problems, but directives on life. The third type of audience was interested in films that dwelt on moral-ethical issues arising in familial or personal situations, that is, films like melodramas. The audience in this category relished the hero's trials and enjoyed "displays of abundant wealth." The fourth type of audience believed films had the value of a documentary, in that they provided a glimpse into a different world or life. Cinema transported the viewer to other cultures or world, one that seemed inaccessible in their personal experience. Sociologists referred to moviegoers' curiosity about the world as the 'Columbus syndrome. ,23
22 A.A. Mitiushin, "Sotsiologicheskie zametki N. A. Lebedeva i nekotorye kontseptsii kinoiskusstva," in Metodologiia i
metodika sotsiologicheskovo issledovaniia kinoauditorli (Moscow: VNIlK, 1987),32-34. 23 I. E. Kokarev, "Problemy tipologii kinoauditorii," 102-113.
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In order to construct a similar typology of audience expectations outside the
cities, respondents in rural Gorkov were surveyed in the mid-seventies. They were asked to rate films according to plot, performances, and directorial and technical mastery. Respondents' ratings were used to classify the rural audience into three groups. The mst group of viewers characteristically rated a film on all these counts, seeing the film in its entirety. The second group of viewers valued films for their informative quality, especially since access to information in the provinces was more restricted than in the cities. A third group of viewers based its ratings of films on plot, performance and directorial mastery, and sought ft1ms (usually romances) that moved the audience and caused them to cry or rejoice. The fourth group of viewers preferred films that portrayed unusual heroes and situations. This group's preference lay with films that offered exciting adventure, and diverted the audience from its anxieties. 24 These survey results were confmned by similar projects undertaken in other parts of the Soviet Union. Findings of the Kalinin province survey were used to classify the movie audience according to the needs the movies met for the viewers, but allowed for more possibilities than other typologies. Respondents were asked what they valued most in cinema. The frrst group of viewers appreciated cinema's didactic function; cinema must set a good example to audiences. The second group expected films to be a source of information about people's lives and environments. The third group of viewers sought the spectacle in cinema and considered its aesthetic function to be the most important. The fourth and fifth groups went to the movies to relax and to be entertained. The sixth group sought cinema's communicative purpose; that is, they saw the movies as a social outing or a means to mingle and interact with others. Respondents, classilled as the seventh group of viewers, valued the cathartic function of cinema and enjoyed ft1ms that caused
24 Lukshin. "Sotsial'nyi portret sel'skogo kinozritelia," 91.
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their "souls to feel unburdened.,,25 In yet another analysis, viewers were categorized according to their genre preferences. According to survey fIDdingS on movie going in the towns of Arzamas (Gorkov) and Shchekino (Tula), audiences enjoyed fJ1ms about contemporary life, films about the Second World War, or family dramas and love stories. 26 Such investigations were conducted all over the country in order to assess the ability of audiences to appreciate cinema, and project fIDdingS were made available in academic publications. Sociological fIDdingS also made appearances in Sovetskii Ekran. A survey of television and film audiences conducted between 1976 and 1978 established that cinema remained the most favored form of entertainment for most respondents. One group of viewers claimed to prefer films that addressed social problems, instructed the audience, prompted reflection and evoked sympathy for its protagonists. A second group of viewers was found to enjoy films where events developed fortuitously for the heroes and where the narratives allowed the audience emotional catharsis. Another type of audience went to see fJ1ms with unusual heroes and adventure narratives. Such fIDdings were meant to assist fllm distributors and fllmmakers assess a f11m's potential and tailor film production to accommodate such viewer expectations.27 Project fIDdings also helped assess the 'sophistication' of the movie spectatorship and identify those moviegoers who were drawn to cinema purely for diversion or relaxation.
25 Zhabskii, "Kinematografkak sotsial'naia tsennost," 44 26 Z. G. Kutorga, "Gorodskoi zritel' i khudozhestvennyi kinematograf," 32-34. The findings oftbe survey conducted between 1974 and 1976 in Shchekino were compared to those of the survey of the same period in Arzamas in Gorkov province.
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The audience for melodramas:
Among the published surveys, the surveys of the sixties and the Vladimir survey of the seventies required respondents to evaluate Indian and other foreign films. The first survey in 1963 in Sverdlovsk indicated the popularity of the Indian popular film 'Love in Simla' among different segments of the local populace. The fUm was variously rated fourth, sixth, seventh and eighth in respondents' answers. 28 Forty percent of the respondents in the Urals survey of 1965 had seen the Indian film 'Flower in the Dust;' sociologists attributed this to its family/daily life theme, which "moves almost everyone in the theater." The survey concluded that Indian popular cinema had loyal followers in all socio-demographic groups. 29 A survey conducted in Vladimir in 1976 concluded that the theme or genre most preferred by a majority of the respondents (mainly engineers, and representative of the 'technical intelligentsia) was that oflove and familial relations. The films selected as favorites by most respondents were love stories, where protagonists overcome the odds in the fUms' denouement, such as the Indian film 'Sita and Gita.'30 If critics associated such films and their reception with a lack of sophistication or training in aesthetic appreciation (as observed in the previous chapter), how did sociologists explain the popularity of Indian melodramas among Soviet spectators?
27 Iu. Vorontsov, "Eshche raz ob ozhidaniiakh zritelei," Sovetskii Ekran 12 (1981): 16. The article indicates that the survey was conducted by Sovetskii Ekran, but does not reveal any details about methodology or even the region in which this research was executed. 28 Kogan, Khudozhestvennyi vkus, 84-85;122-123. 29
Kogan, Kino i zrite/, '229.
30 Kutorga, "Gorodskoi zritel' i khudozhestvennyi kinematograj,' 32-33.
249 Generic appeal:
Based on their surveys and moviegoers' letters to the fIlm press, contemporary sociologists drew conclusions about the attraction of Indian fIlms (and other entertaining cinema) that reinforce the views presented in interviews and questionnaires in Chapter 1. The Urals survey of 1965 attributed the popularity of Indian popular fIlms to their unnatural intrigues, their exploitation of the audience's sympathy for characters' misfortunes, and the fIlms' skilful employment of "exotic features." A tenth of the respondents in this survey, "unafraid of being accused of being 'old-fashioned, '" said they went to see fllms so they could empathize with the hero's tribulations ('perezhivat'). Thirty percent of the survey participants said they found the ''twists offate in the hero's
life!" most appealing?' The fmdings of the survey in Taganrog in 1968, similarly, demonstrated that a majority of the audience coveted fllms that worked their compensatory magic. Compensation was that function of cinema that offered audiences a space for a cathartic reception of a fIlm, or offered them respite from the anxieties in their lives. For the melodrama audience, cinema was ''not art, but a staged spectacle" that did not "demand individual reflection." Viewers belonging to this audience type protested against domestic fllms that seemed to prolong their workday. Thus, a 38-year-old engineer wrote of Soviet fIlms: "These fIlms attempt to extend the working day of the viewer, so that he is forced to watch the very machines and pipes that bore him so. He seeks entertainment on screen but is offered the same chores and endless problems.,,32 The surveys in Arzamas and Shchekino conducted in 1975 and 1976 concluded that 56.3 percent and 51.6 percent of the respondents preferred fIlms about love and family to other fIlms. Sociologists suggested that such viewers associated movie going with entertainment and relaxation;
31 ibid. 144,229. 32 Kokarev, "Problemy tipologii kinoautiitorii," 113-114.
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clearly, entertainment and the emotional rest it induced would remain one of cinema's main functions. In fact, researchers acknowledged that it was commonplace to go to the
movies on the weekend for diversion from stress and problems.33 By the eighties, some researchers even conceded that the "emotional regulation" of the public was a fundamental function of art, thereby granting melodramas legitimacy as a genre. 34 Viewers needed psychological comfort and their letters to fIlmjoumals were cited to prove this. Viewers wrote, variously, that they ''went to the movies to be diverted from ... worries", ''to be rid of ... thoughts and worries about ... health" and ''to forget about the mundane." Many viewers claimed that films had a cathartic function, "calmed their nerves," and made their "souls feel lighter." Another movie spectator wrote: "Good films, especially Indian films lift my spirits." For such moviegoers, the function of cinema was to provide emotional comfort, and relief from stress, anxiety, worry and grief. The compensatory function was also highlighted in other moviegoers' statements about going to the movies. Viewers wrote that the cinema was a place to see that which was absent in one's life, to remember one's youth and relive it, and to forget one's worries and observe others' lives for a change. 35 Sociologists used such letters to suggest that the melodrama's appeal was not aesthetic or artistic, but socio-psychological. In their opinion, this explained why admirers drew attention to this genre's emotional impact rather than its formal features. Viewers felt engaged and involved in films with melodramatic narratives, could identify with the heroes, and project their "psychological state" onto the characters in the film. 36 Based on audience mail, sociologists concluded that the appeal of melodramas and Indian films of that genre stemmed from many spectators' identification with the characterizations and the situations that protagonists 33 ibid., 115-116 34 L.A. Vasil'eva, "Mekhanizm uspekha sovremennoi melodramy," in Sotsial 'noia zhizn' fil'ma, Problemy
jimktsionirovaniia repertuara (Moscow: VNIIK, 1983),71-72. 35 Zhabskii, "Kinematogrqfkaksotsia!'noia tsennost'," 58-62 36 Vasil'eva, "Mekhanizm uspekha sovremennoi meloilramy," 14.
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found themselves in. As we have seen earlier in this dissertation, these sociological assessments of Indian melodramas' main draw are buttressed by the retrospective accounts of these films' admirers.
Social factors
For Soviet film sociologists, apart from Indian films' inherent appeal, social factors played a role in determining the audience's moviegoing habits. According to many Soviet scholars working in the area of audience reception, education determined the audience's ability to distinguish good cinema from mediocre or bad cinema. It could raise cultural tastes and cultivate an 'appropriate' appreciation of the arts in all members of Soviet society. Instances of a demonstrated 'lack' of cultural taste or sophistication were attributed to a low level or absence of education. The Sverdlovsk survey conducted in the early sixties concluded that ratings of the Indian "tear-jerker" 'Love in Simla' varied according to the educational background of the viewer. Areas with a higher percentage of workers and students showed a higher rating for the film than areas where the intelligentsia was a larger audience segment. 37 The 1965 Urals survey also demonstrated the high viewer turnout and evaluative ratings of respondents for Indian films. Fifty percent of those who were enrolled in or had completed basic schooling, and seventeen percent of those with a higher education cited Indian ftlms as the best. However, this survey also conceded that education could not be the sole influential factor determining aesthetic tastes. Thirty-two percent of those with a high education had placed Indian film 'Flower in the Dust' in the top 12, and 28 percent of the same group had selected the other Indian film 'Ganga and Jamuna' to be on the same list. 38 Such exceptions aside, sociologists believed the overall picture to be one of a 37 The survey does not disaggregate the final statistics to tell us how many workers, or 'intelligentsia' or stodents rated the film. 38 Kogan, Kino i zritei, ' 203-222.
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converse relation between education and aesthetic tastes, where low education led to 'poor aesthetic sensibilities' and ensured the success of Indian melodramas. While acknowledging that this genre also had a substantial urban audience, some studies often pointed to the predominance of melodrama enthusiasts among rural audiences. The Urals survey of 1965 concluded that the viewership for Indian melodramas was to be found in all social strata, but rural viewers, in particular, gave the films a high evaluative rating. Sociologists reported that 52 percent of rural residents had
seen the Indian film 'Flower in the Dust.' The viewer turnout for this f11m outstripped that for other foreign films such as 'Judgment at Nuremberg,' which drew 7 percent of the rural audience in the Urals. The survey also demonstrated that in rural areas, the
popularity of Indian films was characteristic of all age groups and educational backgrounds. This argument was extended to include the viewership for all melodramas, not only Indian fllms of that genre. In an analysis of the reception of the Soviet melodrama 'The Red Guelder Rose' (Kalina Krasnaia) in Vladimir and Sobinskii provinces, sociologists noted that viewers who appreciated the melodramatic aspect of the film and derived emotional satisfaction from it were chiefly rural moviegoers. Because this audience thought the film to be a melodrama and judged it to lack the purpose and resolution of films of that genre, they rated it lower than did urban audiences. Only 78.5 percent of the rural audiences considered the film very successful or successful, as opposed to 93.3 percent in the city. The rural audience was perceived to be essentially different from the urban one because it had a higher percentage of minors, fewer people with a higher education, and fewer students. 39 In addition, sociologists suggested that more women than men proved loyal
39 Dolynin, "Kalina Krasnaia. S/agaemye uspekha," in Fil'm i ego autiitoriia. 45-46. Surveys distributed in Vladimir and Sobinskii raton in theaters. combined with letters to the journal Sovetskii Ekran, formed the basis for these conclusions.
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supporters of the melodramatic genre, and that pensioners and 'housewives' were among the most ardent viewers of Indian popular f1lms. For instance, respondents of the Taganrog survey of the sixties who were inclined towards the melodramatic genre of cinema were described as those engaged in "unskilled labor, housewives, elderly, the personally maladjusted, socially inactive women - people wallowing in their existential worries.'040 The other tendency exhibited in research on the melodrama audience was the association of Indian melodramas with youth or teenage audiences. On occasion, sociologists conceded that the audience found the habit of watching an Indian film a hard one to break; in general, however, they believed that as the audience aged, the interest in Indian melodramas diminished. 41
Molding the melodrama audience:
Findings about the melodrama viewership led these sociologists to offer solutions for the 'problem' of Indian films' popularity. There were two solutions that most regularly featured in survey fmdings: one was the adaptation of the film repertoire to audience demand as a means to improve audience tastes, and the other was the more efficient conduct of propaganda and critical mediation.
Monitoring the repertoire:
Many interviewees explained that they relished Indian films because their generic and narrative styles were a novel and pleasing alternative to contemporary domestic f1lms set on the battle front or in factories. It was the view of many contemporary sociologists also that domestic cinema's inability to provide emotionally
40 Kokarev, "Problemy tipo[ogii kinoauditorii," 110. 41 Kotel'nikov, "Molodoi zritel': otnoshenie k kinematograju," 54-55. These conclusions were based on surveys, completed in a Bashkir town in 1983; no explanation is offered of the methodology, or even the number of respondents surveyed.
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appealing entertainment was largely responsible for Indian f1l.ms' popularity among Soviet moviegoers. According to sociologists, when the audience was advised of the futility of watching Indian melodramas, many viewers wrote letters in staunch defense of these f1l.ms. This caused concem that a steady diet of entertaining f1l.ms was proving detrimental to the aesthetic tastes of the audience. Theorists like L.N. Kogan were disparaging in their opinion of films whose titles "always end with the word 'love'" and had a "dulling effect" on the audience's emotions, tastes, and views. Kogan wrote that viewers were rendered incapable of appreciating "original portrayals of reality, of real human emotions.,,42 Reporting the findings of the Urals survey of 1965, Kogan attributed the admiration for Indian popular films to the absence of romance and festiveness in domestic cinema. Workers, non-specialists, 'housewives' and pensioners demanded light entertaining fare, and domestic films inadequately met this need. Therefore, Indian films such as 'Love in Simla' received "disproportionate attention.'.43 The report also cited letters from Indian melodrama admirers who explained their preference for these films. In defense of the film 'Flower in the Dust,' for which critics had no appreciation, S. Kovaleva of Cherepovts wrote:
Our films studiously avoid human problems, keeping up the appearance that our country has no problems to speak of. Some people may fmd the mannerisms and posturing of the heroine in 'Flower in the Dust' funny. However, I do not. The heroes in the film have a noble task - to rouse sympathy among spectators for the abandoned girl. Perhaps the film is sentimental and melodramatic. It is for simple people, and such language is accessible for everyone. Cinema began with melodrama, as did theater, and there is nothing wrong with that.44
Kogan was willing to concede that the melodrama had been discredited and devalued by
42 Kogan, Kino i zritel, ' 11, 232. 43 ibid., 11, 309. 44 ibid., 230-231.
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administrators and theoreticians, and that the resulting chasm between critics, filmmakers and the melodrama viewership led to the audience turning to foreign melodramas. He urged domestic filmmakers to pay heed to audience typologies45 and make ideologically appropriate melodramas, so that audiences would not be swayed by cheap 'bourgeois' imitations.46 Other sociologists shared Kogan's view that an increase in domestic productions that fulfilled a compensatory function would draw spectators away from 'inferior quality' foreign films. Viewers sought films about love and personal relationships and were willing to watch even "primitive" films that dealt with these themes in the absence of domestic cinema of this genre. 47 Sociologists writing in the eighties continued to argue that domestic mIllS failed to provide compensatory entertainment, causing Soviet audiences to seek it in foreign melodramas.48 Viewers "weighed down by life's tribulations" or "social instability" sought relief and oblivion, but Soviet films of the perestroika wave still did not provide these viewers the 'compensation' they sought. Only a handful ofperestroika films, including the Indo-Soviet joint venture' Ali Baba and Forty Thieves,' had fulfilled the compensatory function. 49 Thus, despite the commercial trend in domestic fUms (380 fUms were released in 1990 as opposed to the usual 150-170), viewers still turned to foreign films for entertainment. This was apparently causing some filmmakers to implore authorities to restrict the number of imported foreign fUms to 40 per annum. Such pleas for protectionism reminiscent of the pre-perestroika era were met with distrust and disfavor by other filmmakers. The solution, they believed, was not to restrict foreign
45 ibid., 11,309. 46 ibid., 231. 47 L.D. Rondeli, "Zriteli 0 jil'makh kirwrepertuara 1976 goda," in Kino i zritel,' ed. Z. G. Kutorga (Moscow: Institut
Teorii IIstorii Kino, 1978), 87. 48 Kutorga, "Gorodskoi zritel' i khudozhestvennyi kinematograf," 36. 49 L. Furikov, "Zritel', A-Ul," Sovetskii Ekran 8 (1991): 22-23.
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films' import but to make domestic cinema that would provide emotional comfort to viewers. 50 As discussed in the chapter on policy, a general perception reigned that many distributors catered exclusively to the melodrama and entertaining cinema audience, thereby compounding the 'problem' of these films' popularity. A local propaganda and agitation department official in Zhdanov complained to Goskino in 1969 that it was very difficult to fmd common ground with film distributors who sometimes found it more profitable to show Indian films such as "Love in Kashmir," than Soviet fllms. 51 Writing in 1987, sociologists still considered distributors to be a thorn in their side since theaters continued to prefer films that would raise revenues. By favoring the greater distribution of commercial films and neglecting good artistic fllms and their potential audience, distributors were thought to be undermining the potential of cinema. 52 Interestingly, over the decades, while sociologists critiqued the production policy and distribution apparatus, they did not use their writings to question the import policy that provided this 'frothy entertainment' to the Soviet audiences.
Mediating audience tastes:
Sociologists also argued that changes in the priorities of filmmakers and distributors had to occur simultaneously with informative and educative practices that would shape audience reception. It was considered insufficient to release a fllm without conducting the necessary work to 'bring it to the masses.' A refrain in all sociological surveys was that propaganda work and critical mediation were conducted inadequately in rural and urban areas. For a section of the audiences, cinema was a means of
50 ibid. 51 RGALI, f. 2944, o. I, d. 632,1.5 (1969). 52 Mitiushin, "Sotsiologlcheskie zametki N. A. Lebedeva i nekotorye kontseptsij kinoiskusstva," 38-39.
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entertainment, and their reception of many 'quality' films was found to be inadequate in relation to the artistic worth and content of these films. 53 Concluding his report on the findings of the Urals survey of 1965, Kogan lamented that even the educated counted themselves among followers of Indian melodramas and that only propaganda could help mold audience tastes. The key was to increase co-ordination between different organizations working in the film propaganda field and hone their efficacy. Sociologists advised intensive work to study aesthetic demands of the audience and the increased participation of qualified lecturers, reviewers and film scholars in this endeavor. They called upon school teachers to explain to students the shortcomings and strengths of films showing in the theaters. They advised institutes and schools to hold ftIm lectures and debates on cinema, and to organize film clubs. Goskino was urged to increase its propaganda activities in rural areas, particularly among workers, 'housewives' and pensioners who did not attend such lectures. 54 Yet, reports from the field continued to convey pessimism about the state of propaganda activity. By the end of the seventies, it was found that the activities of Goskino' s Bureau of Propaganda had been reduced to concerts and meetings with ftIm professionals who said the "stupidest things" or whose speeches had little meaning. Scholarly lectures were also found to have dwindled by the late seventies.55 Furthermore, sociologists wrote over the years that the presence of an audience that relished entertaining cinema meant also that critics had been negligent in molding audience tastes. Chapter 3 established how removed critical expectations were from the preferences of Indian melodramas' supporters in the audience. In fact, Turovskaia and Kleiman were not alone in their diagnosis of the relationship between critics and the audience after 1954. The lack of dialogue and engagement between critics and the 'mass' 53 Rachuk, "K problerne izuchenia sovetskogo zritelia," 11.
54 Kogan, Kino i zritel.· 307-309. 55 R N. Iurenev, report in Problemy Sotsio[ogii Kino (Moscow: Institut Teorii i Istorii Kino, 1978), 113.
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audience concerned many sociologists, who believed that critics must engage audiences on the subject of the latter's favorite melodramas and not sideline them in their writing. Critics' mediation would ensure that complex fIlms were appreciated adequately and would diminish viewer turnout for inferior quality films. 56 Chiding journals such as Iskusstvo Kino for publishing inadequate reviews of the majority of films in the theaters, N.A. Lebedev accused critics of snobbery in their exclusive treatment of so-called 'high art,' and their neglect of what they considered 'mass consumption cinema.' He warned that this snobbery was "contrary to the democratic spirit" of Russia's classical literary heroes and threatened to widen the fissure between critics and a substantial part of the audience. Lebedev also argued that critics' minimal attention to the theater repertoire explained why a majority of respondents in surveys claimed not to depend on critics or reviews in their choice of fIlm. 57 In the early eighties, sociologists continued to implore critics to assess fIlms using the audience's criteria in order to become credible in the eyes of the movie going public that enjoyed entertaining cinema.58 They urged critics to abandon their impatience with and mockery of viewers' tastes and advised them to persuade viewers to discern real art from its cheap imitation. Sociologists' grievance was that even journal 'tribunals' that were meant for critical mediation between a film and viewer were often used for simple commentaries on film texts, devoid of any attempt to refme the tastes of the audience. 59 These audience experts despaired that despite the ample information sociological surveys provided on the effectiveness of cultural 'work' among the public and on the audience's motivations in watching fIlms, critics did not seem to bother with these fmdings. 60 Instead, they were
56 Kiiashchenko, "Kino i zritel. '" 57 N. A. Lebedev, report in "Problemy sotsiologii kino," 41-42 58 L P. Lukshin, Fil'm-kritika-zritel, 'in Kinoauditoria iftl'm. sotsioiogicheskie problemy kino (Moscow: VNIIK, 1982), 113-116. 59 A. Karaganov, "Kino v zhizni nashego obshchestva," in Kino i Vremiia. Vypusk 3. (Moscow: lslatsstvo 1983). 17-18. 60 Kokarev, "Problemy tipoiogii kinoauditorii," 120-121.
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exclusively concerned with the 'problems' the film addressed and other issues ofless interest to the majority of moviegoers. Such complaints were also directed at Sovetskii Ekran, which carried promotional pieces for films and articles about actors but was found to offer little critical advice for viewers. Newspapers were also found wanting in this regard because they tended to write either positive reviews of films or "unhelpful summaries" of film plots. Why have reviews, sociologists wrote, if they were not meant to rouse the interest of the reader?61 It was suggested that more critics engage in discussions of audience tastes with moviegoers in the forums available in mass film journals. 62 In post-Stalinist Soviet society, sociologists acknowledged that every cinema had its audience. They endeavored to understand the presence of melodrama admirers and the needs of this audience for compensatory entertainment. Based on their survey fmdings and the audience letters they researched, sociologists concluded that Indian fllms had acquired a large audience because they offered emotional comfort and compensated for domestic cinema's inability to do the same. In their work, many moviegoers' "disproportionate interest" in Indian popular cinema was projected as a 'problem' that needed addressing. Sociologists recommended the making of more entertaining films at home, but also considered it important that critics and mediators engage the melodrama audience, and not leave it to its own devices. In fact, prevalent associations of Indian melodramas with banality did not preclude the emergence and sustenance of public channels through which admirers of Indian melodramas could explain their appreciation for these fllms. In available forums, public expressions of interest in Indian melodramas were given room and debated, making for a participatory cultural space.
61 Iurenev, report in Problemy sotl,iologii kino, 108-109. 62 Karaganov. "Kino v zhizni nashego obshchestva," 17-18
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SECTION IT LETTERS FROM THE AUDIENCE
The public presence ofIndian melodrama admirers
In this section, I explore the public participation of Indian melodrama admirers and other moviegoers, as manifested in viewers' prolific letters to the mm press and Goskino between the fifties and the eighties. Letters from viewers who appreciated Indian films and moviegoers who were circumspect with regard to these melodramas form the source material for this analysis. These letters presented conflicting views on Indian popular cinema, its loyal audience and the role of the critical mediator.
Audience forums Sociological surveys provided fllm officials and critics with a refracted image of the movie audience. However, the popularity of Indian film stars was also an 'unmediated,' publicly manifested phenomenon in Soviet culture. Crowds thronged the streets to meet Indian stars; admirers attended festivals to catch a glimpse of them, and sent fan mail to their favorite stars in India. 63 Early examples of letters written to fllm stars were those addressed to Raj Kapoor and Nargis, both in India and on their visits to the Soviet Union. 64 Other Indian film stars were heartily welcomed in the Soviet Union, and when interviewed, spoke of the warmth of audience reception in the Soviet Union. 65 Rishi Kapoor, the lead actor in the film 'Bobby,' was given wide press coverage after the commercial success of his mm in the Soviet Union. He was interviewed at festivals and followed by a contingent of his Soviet fans. 66 A similar reception greeted Mithun and 63 As narrated by Indian film stars in 'S/cazochnyi mir indiiskogo kino," Russian filmmaker Vera Fedorchenko's
documentary film on Indian cinema. 64 A. Ershtrem, "Nargis, " Sovetskii Ekran 16 (1957). 65 "Dharmendra," Sovetskii Ekran 18 (1981):15-17. 66 I. Zvegentseva, "Rishi Kilpoor," Sovetskii Ekran 17 (1978): 16-17
261 Amitabh (fans ofMithun were called 'Mithunists' and fans of Bachehan, 'Bachchanists). ,67 Mithun was voted best foreign actor thrice in the annual survey of
Sovetskii Ekran, and spoke of being overwhelmed with emotion at the reception his fans gave him in the Soviet Union. 68 Soviet fans clad in saris mobbed Indian superstar Amitabh Bachchan.69 Those who chose to profess their preferences for their favorite Indian cine-stars did so publicly and without mediation.
With Stalin's death and the renewed interest in audience opinion, filmjoumals and Goskino began to receive letters from moviegoers and readers, and often responded to these viewers' requests. Iskusstvo Kino received a steady stream of mail from readers about the film repertoire, including ideas for screenplays. As early as 1956, one reader wrote with a fervent request for a column where the film audiences could state their views and preferences. This reader claimed to be ''burning with desire to express her opinions to screenplay writers, directors, operators, but mostly to artists." She was pleased with the monthly publication of Iskusstvo Kino, but lamented the lack of a ''viewers' tribunal" in the journal. She wished the journal would "let the average Soviet viewer state his or her opinion about released films and point to the shortcomings in the work of film professionals." 70 However, Iskusstvo Kino did not pursue this possibility and remained an intellectual journal with analytical articles on cinema. It never published viewers' letters.
Sovetskii Ekran, which was the only 'mass readership' journal with wide appeal, was by definition more interested in what the larger movie audiences were watching. This journal was the pioneer in the conducting of viewer surveys on an annual basis, a regular feature starting in 1958. Each year, the December issue published a list of screened films
67 Gul'nara Kruglova, Indian melodrama admirer, interview, October 2002. 68 V. Zheltova. "Mithun Chakraborty: Mne nravitsia byt' populiarnym," Savetskii Kinofestival'lO (1987).
69 O. Goriachev, "Strasti po Amitabkhu Bachchanu," Ekran 14 (1991): 11. 70 RGALI, f.2912, 0.1, d. 40, 1.39 (1956).
262 that year, both domestic and foreign, and requested the readers to state their choice of best film and actor. Beginning in 1963, it ran various fan related columns of differing life spans, and with different goals. It was stated that the 'Soviet viewer' was not only interested in cinema as a way to pass time, but wished also to learn about the history of cinema and become acquainted with the aesthetics of cinema. The journal was pleased to note that film enthusiasts demonstrated their interest by forming clubs and circles to discuss cinema and to help each other acquire greater appreciation for film art. The column 'The Club for Cinema's Friends' (Klub druzei kino), for instance, was inaugurated in 1963 and ran readers' letters on various subjects, including their suggestions for improvement of the film repertoire. The purpose of this new column was to sustain a discussion between viewers and filmmakers, to help filmmakers with their work, and simultaneously 'raise the aesthetic level' of viewers' tastes. Sovetskii Ekran intended the column to facilitate an exchange of opinions that would reflect the interests of film clubs, fans and general viewers. Readers were invited to submit reviews of Soviet films in their local theaters. In this connection, they were advised to discuss the artistic, ideological and technical mastery of the film, and refrain from simply summarising it. A jury consisting of members of the Unions of Filmmakers and Writers would then select the best review for pUblication and their authors would win annual SUbscriptions to the journal.7 ! Other columns also solicited the views of the movie going readership. A column titled 'Viewers' tribunal' (Tribuna zritelei) in Sovetskii Ekran regularly ran readers' correspondence on a selected subject, such as the role of critics, the film repertoire, or the merit of individual films. Conferences and seminars on the subject of spectatorship were held in the late fifties and early sixties, and participants recommended the formation of
71 "Klub Druzei Kino." Sovetskii Ekron 17 (1963): 13-14.
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clubs for 'friends of cinema'. It was also suggested that more activities be undertaken with 'ldno-liubiteli' or film enthusiasts. 72 The audience was clearly back in the reckoning. The editorial board of Sovetsldi Ekran had these and other projects to increase public participation in debates about the movies. Natal'ia Sosina, former editorial staff member at Sovetsldi Ekran, worked in the Department of Letters from 1970 until 1985. She recalled that the letters the department received averaged 200 per day. She and her colleagues ''read all letters," and answered the 'problem letters' ('probZemnye pis 'rna') in particular. These were, for example, letters that posed "serious" questions about Indian or any other cinema, and demonstrated curiosity about filmmaking techniques in a film. The more "banal" letters expressed a desire for information about a star or a film, and the Department of Letters also tried to meet these requests. 73 Newspapers, both central and regional, often published letters of movie enthusiasts and assuaged viewers' desire for information about their favorite films. Apart from the press, moviegoers also wrote directly to Goskino, whose records show that employees painstakingly replied to this mail on occasion. Viewers' letters were sometimes forwarded to an All-Union Committee for Work with Film-Enthusiasts. 74 In their replies to these letters, Goskino employees allayed viewers' doubts or provided them with information they requested. Viewers sent their letters to the Goskino address but often addressed them to the Party leader, the Goskino head, or the editorial boards of film journals or newspapers. Viewer mail cited below was sent to Iskusstvo Kino between 1952 and 1958, to Sovetsldi Ekran between the sixties and the eighties, and to Goskino between the fifties
and the eighties. Chapter 1 began by suggesting the disadvantages in using viewer mail to
72 Kiiashchenko, "Kino i zritel '." 73 Natal'ia Sosina, interview by author, tape-recording, Moscow, August 2002. 74 RGALI, f. 2944, o. 1, d. 534, 1. 56-57 (1968). I saw one reference to it in Goskino's records of its correspondence with viewer mail, but have been unable to find further information in Goskino files.
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study past reception, and it is important to restate those points at this juncture. In the absence ofjournal archives, one has to rely on published letters in order to construct an image of reception in the past. Reception, as manifested in viewers' letters to journals is always mediated by the discursive framework set up by critics, journal editors, film scholars or film joumalists. By setting up the forum for the debate, the topic for debate
and selecting the letters that best exemplified various perspectives on the topic, editors/ critics/ journalists/ scholars mediated the responses of viewers. Finally, certain fragments from letters may have been selected and other excluded from publication. As far as Goskino archives are concerned, one cannot assume that all letters sent in were preserved. Their records are either incomplete or only partially declassified. Therefore, the letters available for this research are those that were considered suitable for publication or those that were preserved in archives. Regardless of these limitations, these sources for understanding historical audience reception remain important, especially when augmented by the questionnaires and interviews conducted for this project. For this analysis, I have narrowed the selection of viewer mail to letters that requested information about Indian films and film-stars, letters about the state of the repertoire that used Indian cinema as a point of reference, and letters in general praise of Indian melodramas.
The star-stfnck on Indian melodramas
Admirers of Indian melodramas wrote letters that contained requests for information about their favorite stars. Most viewers who wrote to Goskino or the film press wished to know more about the lead actors in films or sought information about the making of a certain film. The earliest letters about Indian melodramas were written in the aftermath of the 1954 festival. Having attended the festival, many Soviet viewers implored journals to
265 publish stills from Indian films and more detailed information about actors, film scores and directors. 75 Thus, early letters from Tula and Novosibirsk contained requests for lyrics and music notations of Indian film songs.76 Others requested that the journal inform readers about the personal lives of Indian film Stars.77 A group of factory workers in Yaroslavl requested that Iskusstvo Kino publish stills from 'The Vagabond,' more information about the making of this fl1m, and details about the film's performers, particularly Raj Kapoor. They also asked to see more of Kapoor's movies. 78 LS. Novinkov, a construction worker in Moscow, never missed a film with Raj Kapoor and requested Goskino to send him the actor's address so he could thank him for his splendid work. Goskino promptly entertained the request.
79
This level of interest in the stars, in
the making of films, and in song lyrics demonstrates an active participatory interest in the movies, similar to that in other societies. Not unlike the interviewees and respondents who described the appeal of Indian films, viewers wrote in their letters that Indian melodramas inspired admiration for or interest in India. Films of the first festival had brought India to the Soviet doorstep and generated public interest in Indian literature and culture; in fact, theaters had organized the sale of translated Indian classics during the festival. Viewers' letters demonstrated this early interest in Indian films and the culture that produced them:
We watched 'The Vagabond,' which pleased us immensely (we would even be interested in seeing how the future of the heroes turn out). We feU in love with Indian culture, with its songs and dances.
Another viewer echoed this view:
75 RGALI, f. 2912, o. 1, d. 27, I. 20-21(1954). 76 RGALI, f. 2912, 0.1, d. 27, I. 20-21, I. 41, I. 14. (1954). 77 RGALI, f. 2912, 0.1, d. 27, I. 21 (1954). 78 RGALI, f. 2912, 0.1, d. 27, I. 45 (1954). 79 RGALI, f. 2944, o. 13, d. 786,1. 11 (1966).
266 I would like to state candidly that the film 'The Vagabond' moved me deeply. Since this film, I hurt for India and her good, but unhappy people. Honestly, there are moments when you do not know how to thank a person for the great thing that he has given you... ! I am unable to find the words of gratitude for our dear ... Indian artistes. Please convey my warmest Russian 'thank you' to Raj Kapoor, Nargis ... for their courageous, sterling work. 80
The fondness for Indian films continued to find expression in a corresponding interest in other areas of Indian culture in subsequent decades. An article on Indian cinema, published in Sovetskaia Belorussia in 1984, began by citing a letter from a reader in Minsk. A. Valento wrote that she enjoyed Indian films and had read all the books and relevant journals and encyclopedia to which she had access in the local library in order to learn more about India. She had even read books about Mahatma Gandhi and the Nehru dynasty. As an enthusiastic viewer of Indian films, she wanted to know more about the actors Amitabh and Dharmendra, whom she had just seen perform in the film 'Embers.' She requested that the newspaper publish more information about Indian cinema in their column on art. S! Letters sometimes asked for Indian cinema to be covered in each issue, and requested information about journals concerned with Indian cinema or Indian arts in general. 82 Letters of readers/viewers were often published to preface articles on Indian cinema or interviews with Indian stars, as if to suggest that the journal or newspaper was responding to readers' requests. In a journal such as Sovetskii Ekran, such a gesture reinforced its self-proclaimed status as a mass journal. Upon hearing of the death of Indian film star Nargis in 1981, V. Dragunov from Moscow wrote to Sovetskii Ekran, introducing himself as an admirer of Indian melodramas. He had loved Indian films since his childhood, remembered Nargis from 'The Vagabond' and had received the news of her death "with sorrow." Therefore, he implored Sovetskii Ekran, on behalf of an viewers
80 RGALI, f. 2912, 0.1, d. 27, I. 14 (1954). 81 "Zvezdy indiiskogo kino: po vashei pros 'be," Sovetskaia Belorussia (Minsk), 1 November 1985. 82 A. Lipkov, "(Kritikotvechaet zriteliam) Liubite Ii '" indiiskoe kino?, " Sovetskii Ekran 14 (1984): 19.
267 to publish an article about her life and work. His request was met. A tenth grader saw the Indo-Soviet film 'Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves' and wrote of her fondness for the lead actor Dharmendra; she wished to know all about him and his work. Z. Karpusheva in Kuibyshev liked Indian actor Sanjeev Kumar, and requested the editors at Sovetsldi Ekran to publish biographical information about him. 83 Numerous letters expressed great admiration for the Indian superstar Amitabh Bachchan. T.Chudakova of Moscow addressed her letter to Bachchan and claimed that she had always faithfully followed all his work and wished to see him in more films ''that would bring the Soviet audience joy." O. Fomina considered she was speaking for many, when she requested information on the ftlms of Amitabh Bachchan. Writing for a group of students in Rostov, K. Firkalova requested a meeting with Amitabh at the Moscow Film festival so they could interview their favorite star themselves. 84 Viewers in Moscow and Riga wrote a letter about the many Indian films they had seen with the Indian actor Shashi Kapoor. They requested more information about his career, personal life and future plans.85 Journals and other publications used such audience letters to frame brief write-ups andlor interviews with the actors in question. In the mid-eighties and later, film journals and newspapers frequently referred to
the avalanche of mail they received about Mithun Chakraborty, the lead actor in the hit film 'Disco Dancer.' We know from viewers' narratives in Chapter 1 that Mithun's admirers even traveled to India in the hope of meeting him. Fans ofMithun, not content with information about him, expressed their deep curiosity about his wife. Their letters were typically exuberant expressions of adoration for the star and curiosity about any information connected to his persona. For instance, Natasha Ol'shanskaia, Marina Pavlichenko, Sveta Sergeeva and 20 others wrote a letter, which the editor claimed was 83 "Sanjeev Kumar," Sovetskii Ekran 7 (1986): 20.21; "Dharmendra," Sovetskii Ekran 18 (1981): 15·17. 84 "(Inter 'viu po vashei pros 'be) Amitabh Bachchan: Dva Kryla Ptsitsy Mira," Sovetskii Ekran 21 (1985): 20. 85 _
"Shashi Kapoor," Sovetskii Ekran 8 (1981): 18.
268
only one in a flood of letters about Mithun. These viewers were eager to know about Mithun's personal life and 'mged" editors to provide the information they desired: "[His wife] ... must be very, very beautiful; we would so like to see her. Please tell us about her, and publish a photograph.,,86 Others wrote letters describing with praise Mithun's performance in 'Disco Dancer. ,87 Thus, between the fifties and the eighties, admirers of Indian melodramas demonstrated a desire for more information about their stars and the context in which their favorite films were made. Their desire was communicated through public forums and often their requests for information were entertained.
Movie enthusiasts on Indian melodramas and the mm repertoire Respondents and interviewees highlighted Indian fIlms' distinctiveness in the film repertoire, comparing them to other films available to moviegoers in the past. Over the decades many viewers made analogous observations in letters they penned about the state of the repertoire, using Indian films as a point of reference in their arguments. Viewers in the early fifties were unhappy with the repertoire and the paucity of good domestic films and spoke their minds on the subject. In 1954, Larisa V. wrote to
Iskusstvo Kino, expressing disappointment with domestic film production. She wondered why, despite the country's resources to make good films, foreign fIlms in Soviet theaters outnumbered domestic productions. 8s A certain E.K. in Kubina also complained in early 1954 about the preponderance of trophy and adventure fIlms, and expressed a desire for "progressive fIlms of foreign countries." E.K considered these films to be a 'beacon of light' in bourgeois societies, and requested that Indian, Mexican and other foreign films
86 "(Vy nam pisali.) !ogita Bali," Novosti Kino Ekrana 23 (1990).
87. A. Lipkov, "(/{ritik otvechaet zriteliam) Liubite Ii ry indiiskoe kino? ," Sovetskii Ekran 14 (1984): 19. 88 RGALI, f. 2912, o. 1, d. 21, 1.22 (1954).
269 be shown on Soviet screens. 89 Early letters in the immediate aftermath of Stalin's death reflected a general discontent with the entertainment scene. Captivated by the fITSt films from India in the fifties, admirers wrote of their appreciation for Indian popular cinema to Goskino and the only film journal of the time,
Iskusstvo Kino. Viewers felt free to question the wisdom of Soviet filmmaking policy, and criticize the quality of filmmaking even in these early post-Stalinist years. Having seen 'The Vagabond', one viewer found it incomprehensible that films of that caliber could not be made domestically. Writing from Kiev in 1956, Mikhail B. noted his surprise that ftlmma.kers in India had no specialized training in the field and yet created films such as 'The Vagabond,' Two Acres of Land', and 'Two Leaves and a Bud' that showed ''profound, creative artistry." He wanted to know why Soviet filmmakers did not use their resources, superior to those of any other country, to make better fllms. He sought to know how much time and resources the Soviet state had wasted on their cinematic efforts. According to him, viewers were offended by the low quality of Soviet films, and considered them to be "rubbish," "money down the drain," and a general waste of time.
90
In this same spirit, viewers attributed the large turnout for Indian melodramas
to the absence of choice domestic films. M.M. Asatrelina wrote from Stavropol to request repeat shows of the Indian film 'Flower in the Dust' and chastised Goskino for not making superior quality cinema that would "make a Soviet viewer proud." She wrote that an improvement in domestic fIlm standards would render these films as attractive as Indian melodramas for the Soviet audience. 91 Cinema had provided a space where public opinion mattered to the state, and active audience members clearly used that opportunity. Other viewers found Soviet films unappealing in terms of genre and theme and displayed no compunctions in confronting the state and film press editors with their
89 RGALI, f. 2912, 0.1, d. 21, l. 40-42 (1954). 90 RGALl, f. 2912, 0.1, d. 40, I. 10-11, (1956). 91 RGALI, f. 2944, 0.1, d.822, 1. 24 (1971).
270 preference for Indian melodramas. Viewers' letters corroborated sociological findings and the views of interviewees that the limited domestic production of comedy and melodrama caused viewers to turn to foreign films to enjoy these genres. AK., writing from the city of Safonovo in 1963 to Pravda, lamented the lack of good Soviet comedy. Having recently seen the Indian mm 'Love in Simla,' he recommended that Soviet film directors learn a thing or two from their Indian colleagues. AK. claimed that he enjoyed the ftIm immensely, even though it portrayed a different social universe. He also urged Soviet fllmmakers to make more films like 'Carnival Night,' which had given him something to laugh about, ponder over, and reflect on.92 If some viewers found domestic comedies wanting, others had grown weary of Soviet films about war. T.P in Tashkent was averse to domestic films about war because she still recalled the horror of growing up in its midst. In her letter, she lamented: Are you yourself not bored with fllms about war? We, the viewers, are bored! ... We need not forget about the war, but we need not be reminded of it all the time - that is horrible!! ... We love our actors, but recently films with them have been worthless! The truth is bitter, but one must hear it and understand it correctly!!
Characteristic of viewers' correspondence with Goskino and the film press was their tendency to speak with moral authority on behalf of the 'narod.' T. P tried to persuade Goskino that the 'narod' would be rid of social ills only when they were exposed to love such as that portrayed in lyrical films. She argued that such sentimental fllms allowed one ''to relax and dream," after an eight-hour working day.93 Supporters of entertaining cinema and melodramas tended to associate such films with relaxation and respite from tension, while they related Soviet films to 'work.' The reader will recall the engineer, cited in Soviet sociological surveys, who thought Soviet ftlms fed him the same "chores
92 RGALI, f. 2912, o. 3, d. 2, I. 173, (1963). 93 RGALI, f. 2944, 0.1, II. 825,1.131 (1971).
271 and endless problems" and extended the boring ordeal of working with pipes and machines all day. 94 Moviegoers' identification with many features of Indian films, a refrain in the recollections of respondents and interviewees, was also articulated in contemporary audience mail to Goskino. Viewers wrote many letters in praise of the genre and the 'values' foregrounded in Indian melodramas. They informed Goskino that Indian popular films appealed to them by virtue of their formal features, especially the music and dance sequences. Moreover, the audience always responded with enthusiasm to Indian films, and during these film shows, there was not a single dry eye in the auditorium. 95 In such letters, Goskino was informed about how closely many in the audience empathized with the protagonists in Indian melodramas. A significant factor in this sense of identification with the protagonists was viewers' recognition and appreciation of the implicit moral code in an Indian melodrama. Viewers' letters often complained about the 'explicit' portrayals of violence and sex in other foreign films, claiming this distressed many in the audience. These concerned moviegoers were anxious about the impact of such cinema on standards of morality and behaviour among youth and found the state to be lax in its import criteria. For instance, in their letters, movie enthusiasts regretted the 'immorality' in domestic and foreign films exemplified by "scanty clothing" and "drunken brawls." T. Leontiev in Chita found that theaters were fIlled with foreign films that would not raise the cultural, aesthetic sensibilities of Soviet youth and would instead set a negative example. Replying to Leontiev, Goskino disagreed and argued that the selection committee of foreign films, consisting of ,'responsible" representatives of a number of government departments, would never allow foreign films to be imported that would "destabilize" the youth.96
94 Kokarev, "Problemy tipologii kinoautiitorii," 115. 95 RGALI, f. 2944, o. I, d. 891, I. 149 (1972). 96 RGALI, f. 2944, 0.1, d 822, I. 23·25 (1971).
272
Other viewers' letters also held forth on the issue of morality. M. O. Ozerskii from Serpukhov found that many foreign films were amoral, offensive and third-grade, and "ran counter to the moral code" of the Communist party.97 Ozerskii did not articulate what he specifically found offensive, but his distress was evident. Complaints about scenes of drunkenness in Soviet films were numerous, and protests about nudity in films were ubiquitous in viewers' correspondence. In this regard, many viewers found Indian films commendable for their lack of nude scenes, and their 'moral propriety.' For instance A.S. Kraeva, a Muscovite, wrote in 1969 that the domestic film repertoire was very poor, causing a majority of the audience to leave the theater disgusted with the 'immoral scenes' in films and regretful that they had wasted their time and money. She specifically complained about nudity in ftlms and its detrimental impact on youth in the audience and recommended Indian films because they were 'clean.' Kraeva wrote that it was ''very pleasant" to watch the Indian film 'Love in Kashmir' because of the absence of "alcohol, cigarettes and kisses" in the scenes. Her letter implored Goskino to bring more exacting standards to bear on the selection of foreign ftlms. In their reply, Goskino thanked Kraeva for her personal views but suggested that others in the audience did not necessarily share her opinion.98 Many letters about Indian films indicated viewers' approbation of the moral universe of Indian melodramas. For a large number of movie spectators, the fact that women in Indian films were mostly clad in Indian 'traditional' clothes was yet another illustration of a preserved moral-cultural code. E. P. writing from Zhdanov in 1972 suggested just that about Indian film 'Devotion.' In a letter pithily titled, "Give us your devotion," she wrote that Indian cinema's virtue was the absence of nudity and drunkenness. Added to this, women wore their national dress, and this was ''the
97 RGALI, f. 2944, o. J, d. 822, I. 122 (1971). 98 RGALI, f. 2944, o. 1, d. 632, I. 26-27 (1969).
273
contribution of Indian film art." She considered the ftlm 'Devotion' to be the best of all films because it taught one about trust and loyalty. She recommended that Soviet filmmakers, studios, and distributors learn the art of making ftlms without alcoholism, brawls and 'insufficiently' clothed stars from their Indian colleagues. E.P argued that this could win back for Soviet films the "alienated audience" that preferred Indian melodramas. 99 Many of these viewers found Indian films to project values that coincided with their own understanding of morality and propriety; in this, their letters corroborate viewers' retrospective accounts of the appeal of Indian melodramas in the past. Other viewers' letters on the ftlm repertoire, on the other hand, echoed dominant ideas of 'appropriate' cinema. One group of viewers desired to know why Goskino allowed the making of 'No Ford in the Fire' (V ogne broda net), when it epitomized bourgeois propaganda. Goskino replied that the complaint was unjustified and offensive to the communists who worked on the ftlm.l00 This demonstrates that official cultural preferences were implicit in many viewers' own views of cinema; some viewers found a film insufficiently communist in ethos, while film officials disagreed hotly! Such members of the audience begged to differ with Indian ftlm fans and participated with equal fervour in these forums. They thought the presence of Indian melodramas to be symptomatic of the general decline of the Soviet theater repertoire. The profit-inclined actions oflocal distributors disturbed many moviegoers, just as it did the sociologists (as discussed in the previous section in this chapter). These viewers complained in letters to ftlm journals that distributors were primarily concerned about revenue and marginalized good domestic films. A technical employee, Kh. Ruchin, working at a theater in Arkhangel'sk in the sixties, found that local distributors neglected good quality Soviet films for the demonstration of foreign cinema that would help fulfill
99 RGALI, f. 2944, 0.1, d. 891, 1. 149 (1972). 100 RGALI, f. 2944. o. 1, d. 630,1. 106 (1969).
274 their fInancial plan. Even the director of the theater had dismissed a critically acclaimed Soviet ftIm as 'nonsense.' Ruchin considered it necessary to write an article in the local newspaper about the essence of commercially attractive foreign ftlms; ''they were trash," was his brief evaluation. His negative critique of two Indian films, 'Ganga Jamuna' and 'Flower in the Dust,' led him to being summoned to the local city ftIm office for a dressing down. In his letter to Goskino, Ruchin urged the restructuring of the film distribution network to increase audience turnout for deserving ftlms. Other members of the audience who wrote to Goskino were also frustrated that distribution offices and local theaters ran Indian films in theaters longer than 'quality' Soviet films. Such letters explained that critics could do nothing about the audience for melodramas; rather it was in the area of distribution that the capacity lay to bring better films to a larger audience. 1ol V. Sergeeva in Erevan complained that she hardly went to the movies anymore, since good films recommended by Sovetskii Ekran never made it to the local theaters for more than a few days. Instead, theaters were overrun with melodramas; in fact, one movie-hall was called "India' for its privileging of Indian melodramas. According to Sergeeva, inaccurate advertising compounded the problem. Sometimes she and her friends traveled to the other end of the city to watch a film, and found that the press advertisement had misinformed readers. Such instances point to the discrepancy between official rhetoric on the importance of audience access to 'good' cinema and the ground reality of moviegoing in post-Stalinist Soviet society. Other moviegoers blamed the preponderance of Indian melodramas and other commercially viable films on the 'gullible' audience. Iu. Manasev in Volgograd attributed his difficulty in finding critically acclaimed films to their poor box-office success, which he believed was caused by the lack of "audience preparation" for
101 "Tribuna zriteiei, Davaite podumaem soobshcha," Sovetskii Ekran 4 (1966): 13.
275
artistically and substantially 'superior' cinema. 102 Many in the audience expressed their bemusement at the long queues and teary-eyed audiences for Indian melodramas. They despaired that so many in the audience displayed such 'poor taste' and were unable to be discriminating in their choice of film. M.Aleksandrovna in Tashkent was amused that everyone who saw the Indian film 'Flower in the Dust' had praised it to the skies. She found it hard to fathom that the audience shed copious tears over a female protagonist who only irritated her. However, she was yet to fmd a sympathetic ear for her observations. L. S-va from the province ofTula shared Alexandrovna's views of Indian popular
cinema. She had tried to persuade admirers of melodramas such as 'Ganga and Jamuna' and 'Flower in the Dust' that there were better films to watch, but her efforts bore no fruit. Her chagrin and bemusement are evident in her letter. She had received the distinct impression that she had offended an admirer of the film 'Flower in the Dust' by appearing supercilious, or in her words, as "a smart woman in the company of fools." L-Sva had found the film to be a futile attempt to pass a fairy-tale or skazka off as 'real' but the audience had been moved by the story. She wondered how she could possibly convince such spectators to be more discriminating in their tastes. Moreover, would the editor please reply without citing her last name; she had already acquired some sworn enemies for her opinion of Indian melodramas! 103 Thus, letters about Indian melodramas' place in the Soviet theater repertoire evinced two tendencies. They either attributed these films' appeal to their 'moral propriety' or/and their generic difference from domestic and other foreign cinema, or perceived the popularity of these films to be symptomatic of a lax import policy, misguided distribution considerations and/or the aesthetic unpreparedness of the
102"0 kinoprokate, "Sovetskii Ekron 10 (1978):19. 103 "Tribuna zritelei. Davaite podumaem soobshcha," Sovetskii Ekran 14 (1966): 16-17.
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audience.
Loyalists and detractors on Indian melodramas The admiration of many moviegoers for Indian melodramas was acknowledged and given room for public expression, but cultural mediators did not refrain from using that public expression for their own agenda.
In general, the role of the critic had been controversial from the outset and movie audiences were divided on the issue of the need for such mediation. When an article in the Literaturnaia Gazeta, published on January 9 1958, criticized the newly resumed Sovetskii Ekran for being an 'advertising' journal with no critical discussion of good cinema, it prompted several angry replies from moviegoers. 104 They wrote protesting that they had no desire to have critics meddle in audience business. For instance, two students in Moscow found the article's accusations unfounded, since Sovetskii Kkran had published some critical discussions. These viewers cited as evidence of this journal's broad appeal the fact that subscriptions were difficult to come by. A librarian at the State Historical Library in Moscow suggested that the only existing advertising-informative journal, Sovetskii Ekran, be left to advertise. She observed that those who wished to read critical articles could do so in Iskusstvo Kino and other publications. 105 Even more objectionable to movie enthusiasts was the assumption in the Literaturnaia Gazeta article that viewers were too ignorant or uneducated to evaluate cinema independently. The author of the article had suggested that critical mediation was necessary to initiate viewers into "the complex and appealing world of cinema." An incensed Moscow factory worker wondered at the writer's assumption that the Soviet viewer had not been "initiated" as yet. This viewer also questioned the purpose of critical
104 RGANI. f. 5, o. 5838, d. 78, 1. 7-10. 105 ibid.. L 31.
277 articles that warned audiences about 'bad' ftlms:
As a moviegoer, what conclusion am I supposed to draw? Should I refrain from watching the fIlm? Then what is the role of Sovetskii Ekran? And may I ask this of the Ministry of Culture - why then do you release such fIlms?l06 Likewise, E. C. Pavlovskii in Voronezh thought it was time that the author of the Literatumaia Gazeta article realized that the Soviet viewer "raised under this regime"
was quite capable of discerning the virtues and shortcomings of a fIlm, as made evident in post-fIlm discussions in rural fIlm clubs. He protested against the author's call for articles that would 'cultivate' tastes of the mass audience. Asserting the viewers' own capacity for appraising cinema, he wrote:
Give us, the viewers, at least a little independence in our judgment and choice of fIlm. Believe me, our opinions are not as homogenous as you might think! 107 Responding heatedly to the author's perception of the audience, viewers wrote demanding a readers' conference, where they could discuss fIlms. They pleaded: "Let us have our say about cinema!,,108 As early as 1958, spectators were clearly opposed to the paternalistic attitude of fIlm scholars and critics and wished to be left alone to evaluate a fIlm independently. In another journal forum about the critic's right to juxtapose his/her views against those of the majority of the audience, one viewer judged critics to be cavalier with regard to what audiences enjoyed watching. In the letter she wrote in 1968, this viewer claimed that ftlms such as Indian melodramas moved the audience to tears because viewers felt genuinely sorry for the protagonists. She chided critics for not "respecting viewers'
106 ibid. I. 23-24. 107 ibid, I. 25-28. 108 ibid, I. 17-20.
278 emotions" and wrote:
Why does the critic consider himself infallible and all-knowing, telling us what the audience needs, indeed, what a society needs at a given moment? Why does he assume viewers cannot distinguish good cinema from bad?l09 Such fervent protests against critical mediation to raise the level of audience reception, however, were countered by equally ardent pleas to the contrary. In their correspondence with Goskino or f11m journals, some members of the audience emphasized the need for critics to assist audiences in their choice of films. Writing in 1964, the director of a boarding school in Lvov, V. Kulida, lamented the neglect of the task of socializing the 'masses.' He articulated the need for such state intervention in order to instill in students ''the appropriate aesthetic sensibility, a feeling of love for beauty, and contempt for all that is wrong in life." Kulida observed that viewers did not comprehend 'good' flhns, reflecting the "aesthetic and spiritual" impoverishment of audience reception. He complained that film officials did not expend enough energy in using the school as a space for early socialization of the fIlm audience. This they could do by loaning schools films that the teachers could explain to their students. His own views resonated with the polemic of the state on the function of cinema; in fact, in his opinion, the state was not exploiting the potential of schools optimally. Citing the reason Goskino had given him for not providing flhns to the school, Kulida wrote:
They claim the distribution of films is a state monopoly, but surely the socialization of school students is also a state monopoly? Why do we not use the most widespread of all media for ensuring the ethical upbringing of our youth, and help in that way with the building of communism? What does the state stand to gain, and what does it 10se?110
109 "Eshche raz projll'm," Sovetsldi Ekran 24 (1968): 16-17. 110 RGALI, f. 2912, 0.1, d. 166,1.13-18 (1964).
279
Such divergent perspectives on the 'responsibility' of the critic to mediate on matters of audience preferences were made particularly explicit in debates inspired or provoked by Indian melodramas' many loyal supporters. Althoughfilm reviews after the flfties generally treated Indian popular fllms as a 'problem,' many fllm journalists and critics did endeavor to conduct a dialogue with admirers of these fllms. Sovetskii Ekran, as a mass readership journal, offered opportunities for critics and audiences to engage each other in a discussion or debate. Critics/journalists who received mail from viewers selected some letters in order to frame their argument in a subsequent article about Indian melodramas. In other cases, the dialogue took the form of a "viewers' tribunal." An open question was posed in an issue of Sovetskii Ekran, and readers were invited to respond to the question. In a later issue of the journal, the readers' various letters were published in a column in order to demonstrate the heterogeneity of the audience. Journals such as 'Sem'ia i Shkola' ('Family and School') which frequently ran articles about the
socialization and upbringing of youth and the role of cinema in these tasks, also did this on occasion. Here, viewers' letters were used to debate the function offllms and their impact on a young audience. The dialogues between critics and audiences were, variously, a critic's soliloquy with examples ofviewermail as a point of departure, articles provoked by viewermail about certain fllms, or pre-planned debates for which viewers' opinions were solicited. Four Indian melodramas, 'Love in Simla,' 'Confluence,' 'Bobby,' and 'Disco Dancer' became opportunities for critics and supporters to discuss the value of these fllms. In letters cited below as illustration, admirers of Indian popular cinema suggested the various reasons they preferred these fIlms to others. Their views once again indicated both 'escape' and 'identiflcation' as their motives for watching these fllms. Additionally, critics' and other detractors' counter arguments reveal that Indian cinema and its adoring
280 audience were at the heart of public debates on cinema and moviegoing in post-Stalinist Soviet society.
i. 'Love in Simla ': 'Love in Simla,' as indicated in the chapter on import policy, was purchased with the specific purpose of expediting the sale of Soviet films in India. It was one of the most successful films in the Soviet Union in 1964, and was the subject of many letters of movie enthusiasts. Stella Voskanian and Laura Aslamazova wrote to Sovetskii Ekran expressing their delight at the film. They praised the film's plot and denouement, and found the theme to be "modem and appealing." Similar letters came in from other viewers, causing critic M. Kuznetsov to take issue with them about the film. Despite the commercial and strategic interests involved in the purchase of the film, Kuznetsov did not allow the chance to play cultural mediator pass. This he did in an article titled "What exactly appeals to you, Stella and Laura?" in Sovetskii Ekran. 111 Here, the purpose was clearly only to respond to the authors of such exuberant letters in order to inform them of their poor judgment. There was no pretence at a dialogue and no acknowledgement of a multitude of voices. Nevertheless, it was possibly one of the earliest attempts to engage melodrama admirers on their favorite films. The exchange between critic and viewers was a discussion of the fum's plot and ethos, and ultimately the role of the critic as mediator. Faced with a barrage of letters about this film, Kuznetsov felt obliged to take issue with the comments in the letters written by Stella and Laura and others. He demanded to know if these enthusiastic viewers had not wondered what the heroprotagonists did for their livelihood. To him, the fllm was bourgeois, and its protagonists, a family that was not constructively occupied. The female protagonists were not gainfully employed and their singular preoccupation was their love for the hero. Did Stella and
111 M. Kuznetsov, "Shto zhe vam nravitsia. Stella i Laura?," Sovetskii Ekran 2 (1964): 18-19.
281 Laura not understand that the film had no 'conflict' and no plot, except the hunt of two bored, unemployed women for a husband? The hero's lines were "banal," and it was beyond Kuznetsov's comprehension that such a hero had captured the hearts of "our girls." To Stella and Laura's comments that it was a modem film, Kuznetsov proclaimed there was nothing modem about this "false film." In his harsh judgment, the girls were enamored with the "gloss" and unable to distinguish real art from its cheap imitation! Kuznetsov counted himself among those who had always enjoyed Indian songs and dances, and these were the only features of the film 'Love in Simla' that did not irritate him. Yet, he hastened to criticize the film for its arbitrary use of songs, at times as though removed from the plot. He acknowledged that Soviet viewers were well disposed towards Indian films and followed Indian cinema closely, but 'Love in Simla' was nothing like the Indian films they had been exposed to until then. It was explicitly "bourgeois-commercial," "ordinary" and "ill-starred." He conceded that Stella, Laura and others would not be open to persuasion, but he considered his efforts crucial in helping young spectators detect "any manifestation of falsehood in art, as well as in life." The critic-viewer engagement did not end here as far as 'Love in Simla' was concerned. Kuznetsov's critique of Stella and Laura did not escape viewers' reprimands.
An article by film critic A. Karaganov, "Cinema and Spectator" in Sovetskii Ekran, drew attention to the issues that divided critics and viewers and cited a letter of protest written in response to Kuznetsov's treatment of 'Love in Simla.' A. Krapiva, writing from Dnepropetrovsk, was furious with Kuznetsov's critique of the film and urged that such critics be "banned" from writing. Irrespective of how much the journal might "holler" about good and bad films, Krapiva claimed that she only trusted her own evaluation of a
film and critics played no role in her judgment of a film. Karaganov, in turn, noted with chagrin that viewers who wrote to critics made pronouncements, rather than state their opinion. He took issue with Krapiva's extreme "self-sufficiency," and questioned her
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assumption that she could never be mistaken in her judgment. In fact, she seemed prepared to have those who disagreed with her prevented from discussing, thinking, or writing about cinema. Karaganov found this approach inappropriate and recommended that filmmakers and audience together engage in the quest for "truth, refined aesthetic views, taste ... and the appreciation of art.,,112 The discussion of the merits of 'Love in Simla' had still not acquired the form of debate that it would acquire in the later years. However, in the case of Indian melodramas, it was an early indication of critics' disapproval of an Indian popular film and their attempt to persuade the audience of their views. On the other hand, melodrama admirers were already demonstrating a keen desire to be left well alone to enjoy the films of their choice, an attitude that met with the skepticism of critics.
ii. 'Confluence ': 'Confluence' ('Sangam 'j 'Sangam ,), released in 1968, provided another occasion forthe expression of divergent views on entertaining Indian melodramas. This time the views of supporters and detractors of Indian melodramas were mediated by Aleksandr Lipkov in his article "The Measure of Art," published in Sovetskii Ekran. l13 This was Lipkov's first article on Indian melodramas. It was provoked by hundreds of letters the journal Sovetskii Ekran and Lipkov himself had personally received in praise of 'Confluence.' Lipkov used these letters to argue that melodramas were passable as entertainment, but should not be the audience's exclusive choice. In his article, Lipkov used viewers' letters that both matched and countered his views on the film. Moviegoers who wrote to Lipkov and Sovetskii Ekran about 'Confluence' were divided in their views on the verisimilitude of the film's portrayals. Lipkov observed that
112 A. Karaganov, "Kino i Zritei. ", Sovetskii Ekran 13 (1965): 3. 113 A Lipkov, "Meroi Iskusstva," Sovetskii Ekran 11 (1970): 8-9.
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many admirers of Indian popular films criticized Soviet films for showing the "murky" side of life. He argued that these domestic films were thought-provoking and helped audiences reflect on life on and off screen. In critical parlance, even unpleasant truths could be beautiful ifhandled with ''pain, fury, sympathy." 'Confluence' failed to do this, in Lipkov's opinion. Viewers who wrote in support of Indian melodramas rubbished the critical view that this film was in any way 'false.' They suggested that it was the hyperbole in 'Confluence' that appealed. These admirers believed that the portrayals oflove and friendship in the films were convincing, causing many in the audience to shed copious tears during the show ''without embarrassment." For a viewer in Igaevsk, the fUm led to the realization that "real love was capable of driving people to great sacrifice," and the friendship in the fIlm was one "based on deeds and not on words." An admirer in Krasnodar found the demonstration of friendship compelling and sincere. At this juncture it is relevant to remind the reader that many respondents and interviewees had similarly recalled that characterizations in Indian films were 'ideal' and encouraged emulation; in fact, Igor Belotserkovskii found particular solace in the saga of friendship and loyalty in 'Confluence.' Contemporary letters to Sovetsldi Ekran also suggested that the idealized portrayal of friendship and love in the film deserved appreciation. Ifviewers found the realization of their dreams in the film's narrative, then why must the critic ''break their hearts and destroy their trust in the film text?" Other admirers found that the 'truth' in the film struck a responsive chord in the audience. Some of them considered 'Confluence' to be a portrayal of ''real, natural life" (K. Peliovina, Kuibyshev) and a showcase for "life's truths" (T. Kuznetsov, Leningrad). This faith in the veracity of the characters vexed Lipkov. In fact, he proposed that to engage in a discussion of how compelling the characterizations were meant one had first to take the film seriously.
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However, assuming one did take it seriously, Lipkov was willing to discuss other issues raised in viewers' letters. Many Indian film admirers, once again, praised these films because they showed no physical intimacy, in contrast to other films that allegedly
made the audience "squeamish" and "incited a premature need for sex and its unfortunate consequences" among young viewers. The moral 'righteousness' of this segment of the audience, which found frequent expression in viewers' recollections, was one that met with no sympathy from Lipkov. He wondered why so many viewers believed that "sterility of style" was 'moral.' He observed that ancient Indian art portrayed kissing; there was no need for Indian films to "impoverish viewers' hearts" by refraining from showing physical intimacy between the lead characters in films. In letters, admirers of the film 'Confluence' explained that they relished the ornate and ostentatious settings of the film, which were replete with scenes of abundant wealth in aristocratic surroundings. Like viewers in their recollections of Indian films' appeal, admirers in the contemporary audience emphasized the opportunity cinema provided to experience other cultures vicariously. Admirers observed in their letters that such lifestyles were unfamiliar to the Soviet audience, but did not see the harm in being exposed to or enjoying them. In light of their inability to travel to these distant places, these melodrama admirers expressed their "gratitude" to Raj Kapoor for showing them ''nature's bounty in India and Europe." Lipkov responded to this argument with skepticism. Surely, he wrote, there were hundreds of books and journals available in the local library, which could perform the same function with their illustrations and photos? Why did 'Confluence' have to be these viewers' window to the world? Lipkov also addressed those letters written in praise of the fllm's music score. True to his function as mediator, he advised these admirers that the music was not 'essentially' Indian, and far removed from the real thing he had seen in an Indian dance festival. The dances at the festival had been a "fabulous spectacle" and "unusually
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beautiful," but the dances in 'Confluence' had been "robbed of spiritual content." Many other spectators shared Lipkov's view on the worth and credibility of Indian melodramas' storylines. In his discussion of the music and dance in 'Confluence', he cited a viewer in Abkhazia, who had found the music and dance sequences in Indian melodramas to be repetitive. Then there was A. Sutyrin who thought it rather remarkable that the female protagonist in the film, tormented by the agony of love, could slip calmly and effortlessly into the twist. Some other trenchant critics of Indian popular films in the audience condemned these films as amateur 'trash.' A Dnerpodzerzhlnsk viewer, for instance, found it perplexing that the Soviet government imported such ''worthless films." The disparaging views of 'Confluence' expressed both by professional and lay critics met with angry and threatening responses from many viewers. This was illustrated in letters movie enthusiasts sent to Lipkov after the publication of "The Measure of Art." The dismissive views of this critic and detractors in the audience about the film 'Confluence' provoked a certain F. Sabirova in Cheliabinsk to challenge Lipkov. For Sabirova, the 'truth' was what the 'narod' possessed, and the 'narod' believed that 'Confluence' was a great film. Lipkov, clearly excluded from the 'narod,' wondered who had appointed Sabirova to speak for them and if she was in fact capable of assuming that role. However, Sabirova was only one of numerous voices furious with Lipkov for his dismissal of the film. One viewer in Gorin wanted to know: "So who on earth is this Lipkov? Did he refrain from stating his function because he has chosen to utter such base and odious thoughts?" A geologist in Kemerov province, G. Murashov, found Lipkov's assessment unconvincing and apparently written for remuneration from the journal. Iktiander Zib from Orlov wished he could get his hands on Lipkov so he could wring his neck but then asked to be excused for his crudeness. 114 Such viewers were scornful of
114 A. Lipkov, Jndjjskoe kino: sekretuspekha, 6.
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critical discourse on Indian melodramas and made their views patently clear to the cultural mediator. For Lipkov, 'Confluence' was Raj Kapoor's worst film thus far, but he was clearly at odds with several members of the audience. From 'Confluence' emerged an opportunity for a diversified viewership to question each other's tastes and the critic's wisdom in evaluating the film.
iii. 'Bobby':
The Indian teenage love-story 'Bobby' was released in the Soviet Union in 1973 and this was the biggest grosser of the year. The film's hero-protagonist, Rishi Kapoor, acquired a large following of Soviet fans. For instance, Ol'ga B. had recently seen the film 'Bobby,' and it had made a deep impression on her. She wrote to Sovetskii Ekran: "I spent days thinking and dreaming about the hero ... he is so handsome. ,,115 Tired of criticism about Indian melodramas such as 'Bobby' and 'Gunpowder,' a certain Viktoriia Sotnikova ofChimkent, Uzbekistan, sent an angry piece titled "I wish to understand!," to Sovetskii Ekran. 116
Here, the initiative for dialogue was not taken by a critic frustrated by viewers' enthusiastic letters about the film but by a viewer disconcerted by critical dismissal of the film. Sotnikova enjoyed the generic and aesthetic world of Indian popular cinema, just as respondents and interviewees suggested when narrating their recollections of these films' appeal. An avid viewer of these melodramas, Sotnikova relished Indian f11ms like 'Bobby' and 'Gunpowder' because they were a "festival of color and music," lavish and interesting. Some found the predictability of these films tedious but she enjoyed knowing how a film's storyline would conclude. This foreknowledge gave her a sense of "victory,"
115 A. Lipkov, "/z pochty: potriasaiushchee kino," Sovetskii Ekran 1 (1977): 16-17. 116 Viktoriia Sotnikova, "Moe mnenie: Khochu poniat," Sovetskii Ekran 7 (1979): 14-15.
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as though she were a "co-author of the fllm." She argued that perhaps these fllms had "no profound plot" and "did not explore political issues," but many spectators did not enjoy watching 'reality.' Would anyone want life to go from color to black and white, she asked. Sotnikova was attracted to these fllms because she believed they did not demand reflection or contemplation. 'Bobby' appealed to her because it was reminiscent of "an era when people lived by emotion and not reason." Sotnikova's protests against the official line on melodramas, in fact, suggest a tacit acceptance of the official association of melodrama with emotionalism, rather than rational thought. This perception of the melodrama made the genre abhorrent for the critic but appealing to her. Sotnikova took umbrage at critics' attempts to peddle Soviet fllms as art and their common assertion that melodrama audiences were not exacting in their standards. Sotnikova was proud to be part of these fllms' large and loyal following. She failed to understand how critics could consider melodramas' world-wide viewership unsophisticated and Indian popular fllms tasteless. According to Sotnikova, the demand for tickets to Indian fllms was always high and Soviet directors needed to take example from this cinema and note the wishes of the audience. Her letter was published in Sovetskii Ekran, and the editor invited comments from other readers/viewers on the issues
raised in it: Were melodrama viewers not guilty of primitive aesthetic tastes? Viewers responded and their opinions were published together as a cluster of perspectives in a column titled, "About 'Bobby,,,117 The question of tastes inevitably made these letters a discussion about the function of cinema. Viewers either expressed the need for cinema that 'entertained' or they privileged cinema that 'instructed.' Kaspranova, writing from Saratov, claimed that the predictability of Indian fllms meant there was nothing new she could gain from watching such fllms. She sought realism, not entertainment, and she liked fllms that
117 "lzpochty: Vokrag Bobby, " Sovetskii Ekran 17 (1979): 14-15.
288 instructed, provoked thought, and stimulated her capacity to act. Svetlana Kovaleva, a student in Zlatoust, claimed that she read critical articles regularly, and was able to distinguish good films from bad. She could not identify with viewers who failed to recognize that Indian films such as 'Gunpowder' were "poorly conceived and boring." Furthermore, she saw these films as a "falsehood," and "a weak attempt to combine the genres of melodrama and western." Another viewer, a student in Moscow, wrote a letter that was a diatribe against all commercial films, not only Indian melodramas. She argued that films lacking ideological depth always had large audiences but believed their boxoffice success was no indication of their artistic quality. In fact, she argued that films that only entertained brought no benefit to audiences, a view that must have endeared her to Indian popular cinema's trenchant critics. However, Indian popular mm loyalists had their own case to make. The inability of critics and some viewers to comprehend the appreciative audience for 'Bobby' caused admirers to write of their support for the film in a defensive manner. Iu. Novinkov in Kokchetav countered the critique that Indian melodramas were not edifying and claimed that such mms taught one "how to love." He watched these films several times and with pleasure because one did not "find love such as that portrayed in these films anymore." Svetlana, 18 years of age and writing from Rostov on the Don, thought Indian films were essential, especially in the fast-paced contemporary world. For her, Indian films were appealing because of generic features such as music and dance sequences. She agreed with Sotnikova that Indian melodramas' color, music, "exotic landscapes," and ''beautiful stars" enhanced these films' festive nature. Svetlana wrote that the three hours at an Indian fllm show always cheered her up; the longer the fIlm, the greater her enjoyment. Ol'ga Efremova from Noginsk, moved by Sotnikova's letter, seconded her opinion on 'Bobby' and 'Gunpowder.' She credited the success of 'Bobby' and 'Gunpowder' to their lead star Rishi Kapoor and to the films' music, script and costumes. Moreover, she tried
289 to persuade detractors that Indian films evoked intense empathy among moviegoers. Efremova believed that the fact that audiences always wept during these fllms indicated the audience's identification with the characters on screen. Like Sotnikova, she was offended that those who loved melodramas were considered uncritical in their standards or expectations. The critic had only an implicit presence in this exchange of views between Indian melodrama admirers and their detractors; an exchange provoked by one admirer, who was fed up with the supercilious attitude of Indian popular fllms' virulent critics.
iv. 'Disco Dancer': The hysteria around the film 'Disco Dancer' has often been compared to the phenomenal success of 'The Vagabond' in 1954. Its popularity became the subject of heated discussion during the eighties. As stated earlier, fans sent hundreds of euphoric and grateful letters to fllmjoumals, along with photographs taken during the screening of the film and watercolors of the hero Mithun Chakraborty. The largely pre-teen and teenage audience that participated in the hysteria wrote enthusiastic letters that stated that they could not "tear their away from the screen" while watching the film. This caused one pedagogue, luna Levshina, to write an article titled "The Phenomenon of the Disco Dancer" ('Fenomen Tantsora Disko) for the journal
Sem'ia i Shkola. ,118 Using letters that enthused over the film and its leading star as a point of departure, she wondered about the level of audience tastes and the wisdom of showing such films in the Soviet Union. Levshlna described the film as a "disco-show" and praised its aesthetic elements, which were most appealing to children and teenage viewers. She thought the ideas it propagated - maternal love, filial loyalty, justice, honesty, goodwill, hard work and solidarity - were impeccable. However, like Zius'kin
118 I. Levshina, "Fenomen Tantsora Disko, " Sem'ia i Shkola 7 (1987): 44-45.
290 who wrote a scathing critique of 'Disco Dancer' (see Chapter 3), Levshina lamented that the film did not attempt to be realistic. Instead, it "exploited the primitive undeveloped worldview of the viewer." Levshina described the heroes as marionettes with a limited range of gestures, such as trembling hands and teary eyes. She regretted that only she seemed to note this utter "lack of realism" and the "absence of depth and complexity" in the fIlm. While she watched with ironic detachment, "others sighed deeply every now and then and applauded the hero's victories." Judging by the enthusiastic mail Sovetskii Ekran and Semia i Shkola received from the audience, it seemed to Levshina that viewers either believed that 'Disco Dancer' truly represented India's reality, or simply chose to disregard that it did not. One eighth grade viewer, Galia B. wrote that she enjoyed both Soviet and Indian fIlms. However, while she was selective in the Soviet ftlms she liked, she found all Indian ftlms appealing. Galia B. conceded that Indian ftlms "lacked realism" in their portrayal of "lucky and unlucky love" and their traditional fIght scenes, where the hero "single-handedly took on the bad guys." She agreed with Indian melodrama critics that these fIlms were sometimes "senseless" and "repetitive;" yet, she went to see Indian fIlms more eagerly than she did other fIlms. Often, viewers agreed with these fIlms' critics that Indian melodramas were ''unrealistic,'' but expressed the opinion that these ftlms were compelling and attractive because of that perceived attribute. Like other audience mail written in praise of Indian ftlms, viewers who enjoyed Disco Dancer penned letters that underscored their sense of identifIcation with the characters in the f1lm. Referring to the hero's struggle to become a successful musician in the fIlm and the cruel twists of fate in his life, one admirer described how closely the viewers identifIed with the hero-protagonist. She wrote:
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How the auditorium rejoiced at his success ... I was pained when he lost his mother and then grandfather. It was so distressing to see his tears, his pain, the horror in his eyes and his fear and hate for the bandits. Similar letters waxed eloquent on the hero's tribulations, his "splendid and wonderful" self, his talent for dance, and the "brilliance" of the fIlm. These letters of praise for the actor and the ftlm prompted the mediator Levshina to question the merits of demonstrating such ffims to the audience. Levshina considered entertaining fIlms legitimate and did not propose to ban the import of such fIlms but cautioned against such ftlms' impact on their audiences. She argued that mythological or fairy tale plots were naturally appealing in a certain phase of one's life but the audience should be advised that these ftlms bore little or no relation to art. Like sociologists who wrote with concern about the 'impact' of Indian ffims on the audience, Levshina contended that continuous exposure to such ffims could stunt the development of the audience's aesthetic tastes. According to her, faith in a 'happy end' and simplistic perceptions of reality were natural for a child of3-5 years but there was no reason for Soviet teenagers to be drawn to such cinematic fare. She recommended that youngsters be advised that persistence in watching ffims like 'Disco Dancer' could "hinder the development of their personality." Undaunted by such cautionary pleas, letters expressing admiration for Indian ftlms such as 'Disco Dancer' continued to pour into journal offices.
Contesting opinions on 'Disco Dancer' and other commercial fIlms prompted another fIlm journalist to solicit the views of moviegoers on the validity of producing or distributing fIlms for profIt. Oleg Sul'kin's article, '''Spare the 'Dancer' the insults,'" constructed around numerous viewers' letters to Sovetskii Ekran, drew attention to commercial cinema and audience preferences. 119
119 O. Su)'kin, ""Tantsora v obidu ne tiadim, "" Sovetskii Ekran 20 (1986): 18-21.
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Sul'kin's debate topic elicited responses from many moviegoers who referred to Indian fIlms and 'Disco Dancer' in particular (the film had been released in 1984 in the Soviet Union) to make their argument in their letters. The discussion question made no references to Indian melodramas. Yet it disturbed Indian melodrama enthusiasts, who felt personally offended and asked that the 'Dancer' be "spared insults." This exchange of views once again demonstrates that Indian popular films did not hover precariously on the margins of the public cultural realm. Rather, the presence and popularity of these fIlms, although a subject of divergent views, were an inextricable part of any debate on the purpose of cinema in post-Stalinist society. Provoked by the discussion question, Tatiana V. in Vladivostok requested that viewers be allowed to make their movie going decisions independently. Others wanted detractors to "leave Indian films alone" and abandon their "hostility" to these fIlms. S. Nikolaeva, an Indian melodrama admirer, claimed that films that cause you to laugh or cry could hardly be accused of having a malevolent influence on the audience. Viewers
praised the music and simple denouements in Indian melodramas, which induced people to relax. Others thought Indian films taught one to love ''without an eye to personal gain." They suggested that those who were hostile to these films ''had perhaps never loved like that." Yet another viewer praised Indian melodramas even though they were "repetitious commercial films" because they portrayed "real men." Letters from Kurgan province, Dnepropetrovsk province, and Leningrad underscored the popularity of Indian melodramas. One of them observed that the theater was full on all three occasions that she watched 'Disco Dancer.' Another claimed that local theaters had been receiving requests for re-runs, although the film had already run for weeks. A third letter observed that the theater was packed with viewers of all ages, young and old, and there continued to be queues for tickets for the f:tlm.
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Indian melodrama admirers suggested in their letters that the audience for foreign entertainment cinema would not have been substantial had domestic films been more interesting and spectacular. In this respect, they echoed the views of many viewers cited in the chapter on audience recollections and the opinions of several sociologists on the subject. For instance, one viewer wrote that the problem was not that audience tastes were unrefmed, but that Soviet films were uninteresting. Svetlana ofUl'ianovsk suggested that if Soviet cinema was more "vivid and bright," "better," or if it "reflected contemporary
reality", then the queues for foreign films like 'Disco Dancer' might diminish. Until it did this, she and other viewers would persist in watching foreign films ''which critics loved to
abuse." Responding to these views, Sul'kin joined the chorus of sociologists when he stated that entertaining fare only fostered a mindless audience and eventually prevented audiences from appreciating Soviet films. Sul'kin conceded that the actor in 'Disco Dancer' deserved movie enthusiasts' praise, but surely, such hyperbole and "idolization" were unnecessary. Letters about Mithun used words such as "incomparable," "one of a kind" and "glorious." Sul'kin cautioned spectators that hero-worship was not good for one's self esteem and reminded viewers that Mithun himself had proclaimed in an interview to the Soviet press that the life of film stars was not enviable at all. Like many critics before him, Sul'kin also chided the melodrama viewership for being dismissive of Indian art films, which apparently some viewers found ''uninteresting.'' He lamented the passion of these fans for tearjerkers that overlooked "the great cultural legacy of this ancient country," their aversion to films of other genres, and their intolerance of dissenting opinions. For Sul'kin, 'difficult' fllms were not the issue; the problem was the presence of 'unthinking' viewers. According to some letters from the audience, Soviet films ran in partially or completely empty theaters, while Indian and French films ran in full houses.
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These viewers lamented the fact that a substantially larger audience existed for 'Disco Dancer' than for Soviet films. One of them was distressed that only 1 of 15 people in the audience for the 'masterful' Soviet film 'Voskresenie za gorodom' stayed past the first 20 minutes of the show. After another 5 minutes, the hero-protagonist was "addressing an empty hall" because the author of the letter also left, having fmished his experiment in audience reception. Some viewers were in agreement with Sul'kin's view of cinema's function and the need for the audience to be discriminating in their choice of film. Letters Sovetskii Ekran received alleged that the audience was at fault, preferring to "swallow, without masticating," or to watch films that did not require reflection. One letter complained that Indian films predominated in theaters and acted like a 'narcotic,' while another letter found fault with SoveksportfIl'm and recommended that foreign films be chosen more cautiously for screening. Conflicting views on Indian melodramas stemmed from a fundamental difference in viewers' perceptions of the functions of cinema. The majority ofviewerslreaders cited in Sul'kin's article claimed they associated the movies with relaxation; hence, they enjoyed Indian fIlms that provided opportunity for cathartic entertainment. 'Disco Dancer' and Indian films in general became representative of enjoyable, entertaining cinema or tasteless, mind-numbing cinema, depending on where one stood on the issue of entertainment.
Critics' unappreciative attitude towards Indian popular films provoked loyal supporters of the genre to write in, hotly rejecting critical opinion. This defense of Indian melodrama on the part of movie enthusiasts prompted Aleksandr Lipkov to engage readers of Sovetskii Ekran on this issue. To Lipkov's amusement, letters about Indian cinema were always, possessively, about "my favorite Indian cinema." Once again, the
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audience views cited in Lipkov's article correspond to those expressed by admirers in their interviews and questionnaires. Lipkov found that admirers mainly wrote about the attraction of the otherworldliness of Indian films and the 'benevolent effect' these fIlms had on the viewer. An Indian melodrama enthusiast in Amursk was fascinated by the fIlms' use of music and dance in the development of character-roles. Others suggested that the motive of identification, specifically emulation, drew them to these films. One viewer believed Indian fIlms taught the audience about love, loyalty, commitment and selflessness. A moviegoer in Smolensk province left Indian film shows with a desire to address everyone with respect as in the movies, and sing, dance and love as portrayed in the fIlms "passionately and faithfully." In other letters, viewers explained the emotional comfort they drew from watching Indian popular films. Three admirers, Ira, Iulia and Zoia, wrote that their "hearts filled with joy" while watching an Indian film, and that they had "no desire to leave the theater" after the show. To the critic these letters demonstrated an unreflective attachment to Indian melodramas and a state of "emotional immaturity." Lipkov himself enjoyed Indian melodramas but regretted the distinct unwillingness of audiences to watch anything but films like 'Disco Dancer.' 120 As a critic, he wished to assure viewers that they had no reason to be defensive about their love for Indian melodramas; after all "even the worst film could teach them about this great civilization." However, reports that viewers had walked out of a demonstration of Indian art films disturbed him. These viewers' refusal to accept fIlms that showed Indian 'social
realities,' history and culture, and their attachment to Indian melodramas demonstrated this audience's preoccupation with "cinematic fantasizing." To Lipkov's despair, Indian cinema had come to be categorically described as melodramas with choreographed dances in ornamental interiors, which no educated and "evolved" person would go see.
120 A. Lipkov, "(Kritikotvechaetzriteliam) Liubite Ii ry indiiskoe kino?," Sovetskii Ekran 14 (1984): 19.
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This stereotype meant that those with a serious interest in the movies could not be persuaded of the quality of India's other cinema - art cinema.
121
Appeals were made to
audiences, both supporters and detractors of Indian melodramas, to pay heed to Indian art ftl.ms, but such pleas had little impact on audience behaviour.
Critics of Indian melodramas, both professional and non-professional, perceived admirers of these films to be uncritical and undemanding in their movie preferences. They argued that these viewers seemed incapable of recognizing the demerits of this genre and gullible in their lachrymose reception of these ftl.ms. A second view critics communicated in their dialogues with these admirers was that enjoyment of such fare was a juvenile preoccupation and symptomatic of a lack of self-esteem. 122 Ironically, critics also chided Indian melodrama admirers for their 'self-righteousness' or their 'intolerance' of the dissenting views of critics and others. In late Soviet sociology, these exchanges between critics and viewers in the Soviet period have been described as ineffective and not conducive to furthering mutual understanding. While the purpose of the dialogue was to mediate and mold, it is difficult to evaluate its impact on audiences. Nevertheless, in the words of Robert Allen, one can "take a stab" at understanding what effect these external discourses about cinema and the spectatorship had on melodrama admirers. 123 Lipkov, for instance, thought criticism ineffective in molding audience tastes. He remembers, with great amusement, viewers' letters that threatened his life. l24 Kleiman observed that Soviet critics did not exercise
121 A. Lipkov, Indiiskoe kiM: sekretuspekha, 5. 122 Such views were identical to early ideas about fandom and fans in the west, where it was argued that mass media provided means for "inadequate people to bolster, organize and enliven their unsatisfying lives." Joli Jenson, "Fandom as Pathology: The Consequences of Characterization," in The Adoring Audience, Fan Culture and Popular Media, ed. Lisa A. Lewis (New York: Routledge. 1992).9-29. 123 Robert Allen, "From Exhibition to Reception: Reflections on the audience in film history," 354. 124 Lipkov. interview.
297 influence on the movie public in the manner that French and American counterparts did. Irrespective of this lack of mutual understanding, the forums available for melodrama admirers to speak their mind and to engage critics on the subject are significant. They suggest that the divergence of perspectives on cinema (at least of the Indian variety) was accommodated and not always seen as problematic. On occasion, the multitude of views was even described as "not such a terrible thing.,,125
Conclusion Audience members were active and productive participants, as demonstrated by their involvement in public forums meant for the purpose. In their letters, Indian melodrama admirers, in the spirit of movie fans, sought to know more about their favorite stars or made clamorous appeals for domestic films to be more like Indian melodramas. Just as in the retrospective accounts in Chapter 1, contemporary letters from admirers articulated the attraction of these films in terms of the refreshing differences of their geme and appealing familiarity of their narratives. The motives of 'escape' and 'identification,' again, resonated in their readings of these films. Furthermore, these melodramas provided their supporters with images that inspired them to question aspects of their own reality and the space to assert their independent views. This is evident in their letters that critiqued domestic films for being austere and failing to address personal problems. Viewers' letters also indicated that Indian melodramas offered them opportunity for fantasy and piqued their curiosity about the radically different culture and society that these films portrayed. Often, audience views negotiated official canonical assumptions by using dominant definitions of Indian melodramas, yet subverting those defmitions to give them positive connotations. Thus, some melodrama admirers described Indian films as
125 "Konkurs 1963 -Itogi," Sovetskii Ekran 10 (1964): 4.
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'emotional' rather than 'rational' fare (echoing their critics) and proceeded to claim that relaxing, non-contemplative viewing pleasures appealed to them. Others appropriated terms from the official discourse to legitimate their interest; this is exemplified by viewers' defense of Indian fllms on behalf of the 'narod. ' Responding to such letters, the state and the f11m press demonstrated the desire both to please the melodrama audience and to mold their appreciation of cinema. With every request from an Indian melodrama enthusiast that they granted, the state and the
f11m press encouraged this audience's enjoyment of Indian popular cinema. Simultaneously, these efforts to humor the entreaties of the melodrama audience were matched by counter-efforts to 'guide' audience reception. This made exchanges between critics and moviegoers a colloquium of perspectives on Indian cinema. In their letters, Indian melodrama admirers held their own. The guidelines on the subject of Indian melodramas, articulated by critics and film scholars, were hardly imposed on an unsuspecting movie going public. Indian melodrama fans, although nudged and cajoled to adopt dominant views on Indian melodramas, remained staunchly committed to their 'ownjudgmenf and their desire to relish these films. Their professions of admiration for these fUms were made publicly, in candid, humorous and defiantly independent ways.
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Conclusion
In the post-Soviet present, Indian popular films continue to hold many in their thrall. The film club 'New India' organizes screenings of Indian films in Moscow and provides fans with information about their favorite stars and about India. Applicants for club membership have to explain why they love Indian melodramas and they oblige, both in verse and prose. For Valentina N., born in 1955 and currently resident in the city ofSeveroural'sk, Indian melodramas constitute essential entertainment. She writes:
I watch Indian films with bated breath; I live and rejoice, cry and suffer with the protagonists. In my opinion, life would be boring and somber without these films. 1 In her application for membership, Ol'ga V., born in 1980 and residing in Novopavlovsk, attributes the appeal of Indian films to their dances and music. Although she has never studied Indian music or dance formally, she performs both regularly because she believes her skills are "ingrained." Her application contains a request for information about Hindi language lessons, so she can pursue her interest in Indian melodramas and the culture in which they are produced.2 Timur N. watched his first Indian films when he was ten years of age in 1976. A resident of Moscow, he has written an enthusiastic letter requesting membership to the club:
I value Indian films above all other kinds of cinema. They always have something that other films lack ... Let there be more films from India available on video. 3
I Valentin N.'s application form, 1997. 2 OI'ga V.'s application form, 1996. 3 TimurN.'s application form, 1997.
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Veronika V., an admirer ofIndian popular films since the seventies, explains that an Indian film show always "transports" her to India in her imagination; she dreams of visiting India one day. 4 Galina N. describes eloquently her frrst glimpse of an Indian film when she was in her early teens in the seventies:
Someone said: "There is an interesting film in the club, let us watch it." We went. The film simply amazed us! It was a spirited plot with melodious music, exotic dances and beautiful actors. This was 'Mest' i zakon' (Embers). It has been my most favourite film ever since. I have, since that summer, watched hundreds of Indian films. 5 Aside from this club, other opportunities have recently mushroomed in the C.I.S for Indian melodrama enthusiasts. A Moscow-basedjoumal 'Indiiskaia Zemlia' now publishes information about India, among which articles about films figure prominently. The editorial board has received numerous letters from grateful readers, eager to know more about India and the films they admire. 6 Websites soliciting reviews and letters from fans of Indian films abound and serve large communities of contemporary Indian film enthusiasts. In the post-Soviet context, when myriad foreign films inundate the film repertoire and foreign soap operas reign on television, the existence of moviegoers who enjoy Indian melodramas is nothing out of the ordinary. However, many of these viewers who have become members of the film club or write to journals about Indian melodramas trace their interest in Indian films back to the 1950s and the subsequent decades. In this conclusion, I bring together the project findings on the reception of Indian melodramas in post-Stalinist society and the meta-narratives that they reinforce. 4 Veronika Vo's application fonn, 1997. 5 Galina N.'s application fonn, 1998. 6 The editors provided me with some of the letters they received from readers in 2002.
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The avid audience
The reasons why many Soviet moviegoers were attracted to Indian melodramas are rendered explicit by the analysis of interviews and questionnaires conducted for this project, as well as the examination of audience letters written to Goskino and the film press between the fifties and the eighties. Both the retrospective accounts and contemporary letters of admirers suggest the attraction of the films and the significance of the context of their reception. Admirers described Indian melodramas as an attractive package of music, dance, romance, ideally beautiful stars and morally upright character roles in a setting that was 'exotic.' This setting also bore features akin to viewers' own cultural backgrounds and, on occasion, their social or historical circumstances. The genre and characteristics of the films ensured that the act of viewing involved the pleasures of both escape and identification. Here, viewers' recollections of the experience of total relaxation and their enjoyment of 'another universe' at an Indian film show constituted the motive of 'escape.' Many viewers also found these films to be a refreshing change from other cinematic entertainment available, and appreciated these melodramas' ability to transport the audience to the different world that they portrayed. The apparent otherworldly physical beauty of its stars, the vibrant colors of the films, and the expressive emotionalism only enhanced the 'exoticism' of the films, and encouraged these viewers' sense of detachment from the real world. The association of these films with skazkas and festivity suggests that these films provided opportunity to explore a world different from that of domestic and western foreign films, and relief from the perceived greyness and monotony of viewers' realities.
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However, although described as skazkas and otherworldly, the stories and the characters portrayed were also easily recognizable for this audience. The second aspect of the viewing experience implicit in viewers' memories and contemporary letters of support for Indian films is 'identification,' both with characters and circumstances presented in the films. In viewers' narratives, Indian popular films were about people 'like us' and evoked sympathy for the characters' personal turmoil and anguish. This demonstrates that these films appeared to portray situations and emotions of relevance to many viewers. In fact, viewers often explained their identification with these films, while simultaneously articulating that they felt no such familiarity with other foreign films and/or domestic films. These spectators recognized and approved the cultural and moral values in the films' narratives, empathized with the protagonists' dilemmas and trials, and noticed parallels between social and historical developments in India and the Soviet Union. Their identification with this cinema found equal expression in extra-cinematic, fanlike practices such as the reconstruction of film scenes, emulation of stars, and the desire for information about the cultural context in which these films were produced. Viewers recalled that they indulged their penchant for film-related memorabilia, an activity that they shared with kindred spirits. Audience letters over the years demonstrated a keen interest on the part of admirers to learn more about their celluloid heroes' career graph and personal lives. Their letters also showed their resolve to counter dominant ideas about melodramas and proudly claim their attachment to Indian popular cinema. In Fiske's terms, these admirers garnered cultural capital in their pursuit of their interest in these films. Clearly, there was room in post-Stalinist Soviet culture for those who sought entertainment in cinema and for their expression of these interests.
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Cwture as a site of engagement, accommodation and contestation
Attempting to understand how 'producers' (importers and cultural mediators) and the audience for Indian melodramas related to each other, this project reveals a polylogic culture where the meaning of this imported cultural product was constantly debated by all participating groups. Here, interest groups brought different evaluative criteria to their assessments of Indian cinema. The Indian melodrama experience in post-Stalinist society did not function on the margins of acceptability; rather it was central to discussions on the function of cinema. At the outset, the cultural practice of watching Indian melodramas was initiated and patronized by the state. Beginning with the first festival in 1954, Indian popular fllms were a regular feature in Soviet cinema halls and rated among the most successful films in the boxoffice. The film trade between India and the Soviet Union helped the Soviet state reconcile two seemingly irreconcilable agendas: that of commerce and geo-political strategy. Firstly, the policy and the negotiation process reveal the importance of cinema for the Soviet Union in cementing the strategically important relationship with India. The trade was important for the Soviet state because it ensured the regular export of fllms to India, and thus 'visibility' in that country. Secondly, the steady increase in import of Indian melodramas at the expense of India's realistic art cinema over the decades demonstrates that the state was not impervious to public demand at home. Soviet import policy was just as much for the benefit of the audience and their own eventual profit as it was about having a prominent cultural presence in India. The film trade with India, the Soviet Union's largest trading partner, demonstrates a doctrinal compromise on the part of the Soviet government. Indian films that were imported were popular melodramas entirely at variance with official Soviet prescriptions on cinematic
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form and content. Nevertheless, responsible organs of government neglected Indian realist films acclaimed by their own critics and chose to patronize commercially successful Indian entertaining cinema. The interests of the policy makers and those of the Indian melodrama audience converged in the case of the Indian melodrama. Policy makers' doctrinal departure, however, was not validated in the channels through which opinion was formulated and shaped in the Soviet Union. Film specialists or film critics bore the task of explaining cinema and shaping audience preferences. They saw cinema as a potent tool or a means to create awareness among audiences about social issues and to guide audiences to reflect on their reality. Entertainment, thus, had to be one of cinema's many functions, and not its only function. Such a defInition had ramifications for the manner in which critics wrote about Indian popular films in the Soviet Union. Critics devoted journal pages almost exclusively to the reviewing of Indian art films screened in festivals and retrospectives in the Soviet Union because these films were 'reflective' and grappled with India's problems. Articles and reviews discussed films for their social content and the issues they dared to raise in their narratives, only sporadically analyzing their formal traits. Critics treated a film in the larger context of the social issues that inspired the film's narrative and production, distribution and consumption patterns that shaped its making. Correspondingly, critical discourse demonstrated a deep-seated derision of melodrama and mass culture. Coverage of melodramas was restricted to the odd promotional advertisement and the occasional review that cautioned viewers about pedestrian cinematic fare. Critics' near exclusive treatment of festival circuit films signified their dismissal of what large sections of the movie audience watched and relished.
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In effect, critics' wariness with regard to the substance and aesthetic worth of the Indian melodrama was congruent with officials' or policy makers' views of the same; both saw eye-to-eye on the requisites of good cinema. However, while officials allowed pragmatism to influence their decision-making, most critics were compelled or chose to work under the guidelines of film criticism and did not encourage the audience's penchant for these melodramas. Their approach to Indian cinema indicated their grappling with the pragmatic policy of the state, and their own role as guardians and promoters of a 'true' film art. The Soviet audience for Indian melodramas was practically absent in their writings. However, Soviet admirers of Indian popular films did have a presence in the field of vision of other cultural mediators such as sociologists, who keenly observed the behavioral patterns of moviegoers. The melodrama audience was a very real 'problem' for theoreticians of the movie spectatorship. These viewers' passion for diversional Indian melodramas was taken as an indication of domestic filmmakers' inability to understand what the audience needed. The presence of the melodrama audience was considered by sociologists to illustrate that film propaganda and critical mediation had not been conducted adequately. Sociologists' association of melodramas predominantly with the less-educated, provincial viewer or the urban pensioner and 'housewife' only reinforced the biases of critics. The assumption was that Indian melodrama admirers preferred not to reflect on 'real' issues and were uncritical in their appreciation of the arts. However, contradictory voices did sound within this group of cultural mediators; many Soviet film critics and sociologists insisted that mediators engage the melodrama audience and make an effort to understand their preference for Indian popular films.
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Admirers of Indian melodramas had a legitimate and public presence in post-Stalinist society, and the discursive space in which they participated was shaped both by the accommodating policy of the state and the dismissive attitudes of many cultural mediators. In the channels and forums provided for this audience to express its interest in Indian melodramas, film officials the film press and cultural mediators treated these viewers with concern and indulgence. The film press and film department of the state, on the one hand, aimed to please the melodrama audience. Goskino employees replied to many letters that came in, on occasion supplying the address information ofIndian film stars that Soviet viewers were eager to reach. Filmjournals set up columns soliciting viewers' opinions on cinema's function and the popularity ofIndian films. They published information that admirers ofIndian melodramas sought in pursuit of their fascination with these films and stars, and carried fan letters about Indian films. Critics, on the other hand, used letters ofIndian melodrama admirers as a pretext to advise this audience of the demerits of this genre and the immaturity of their reception. Notwithstanding this Janus-faced film apparatus, the melodrama audience was visible, vocal and unambiguous in its avowal of love for Indian melodramas. Melodrama admirers seized opportunities for public participation with fervor. In letters to policy makers and the film press, from 1954 until the end of the perestroika period, movie enthusiasts wrote spiritedly and prolifically about their fascination for Indian popular films, and sought to know more about their favorite stars. As stated earlier, admirers of Indian popular films enjoyed these films because they were a relief after endless domestic films about war or factory production, because they had the 'correct' moral values for emulation, or because they were festive films about romance. In their letters, Indian
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melodrama loyalists displayed their detennination to like these films regardless of critics' meddling. They chastised the Soviet state for making 'boring' cinema, and countered with spirit the perfunctory treatment that critics (professional and lay) meted out to Indian melodramas. The presence of the melodrama audience was so visible and vocal that these viewers were often a point of reference in others' letters about the state of the repertoire, and the subject of much despair among those who failed to understand the attraction of Indian popular cinema. Thus, the Indian melodrama audience had a distinctive public persona, due partly to its own public participation and partly to others' image of this viewership. The opinions of admirers of Indian melodramas had a prominent place in the cornucopia of perspectives on cinema that were given expression in audience letters. These enthusiasts' letters were humored, their requests were often entertained, and their public expressions of support for their favorite Indian melodramas accommodated. Findings on audience reception of Indian popular films, in the context of policymaking and public discourse on the subject in post-Stalinist Soviet society, render untenable conventional demarcations of official and popular culture. After all, Indian melodramas that were ideologically inappropriate and so avidly consumed by Soviet movie audiences were actively imported and promoted by the state for strategic and commercial reasons. Moreover, the audience for Indian melodramas had an undisputable presence in public debates on cinema; supporters of these films were candid in their bias towards these films. By promoting a cultural product that did not strictly conform to its own ideological canons and accommodating public expressions of support for Indian popular cinema, the state allowed a space to emerge where viewers could engage in paranel cultural experiences. The gatekeepers of official culture accommodated Indian melodrama admirers' expectations of
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cinema, engaged them in discussion, tolerated their presence, and often humoured their requests. Does that make the Indian popular film enthusiast an exponent of 'popular culture' or a practitioner of 'official culture' in Soviet society? Artificial distinctions between official and popular culture blur and cease to be credible when one examines the place of Indian melodramas in Soviet society. The motivations driving both 'official' and 'popular' culture demonstrate points of convergence and mutual influences. It is more appropriate to speak of the practice of enjoying Indian melodramas as an alternative cultural experience, sustained within the parameters of the dominant culture. This paradigm goes against the very grain of prevalent studies, which have tended to view popular cultural preferences as an expression of resistance to the 'unbending' expectations of the state. On the contrary, cultural practice as it emerged around Indian melodramas involved
interaction between several groups, who were perfectly cognizant of the expectations and desires of other groups. Critics, policy makers, sociologists and the myriad audiences functioned as interpretive communities, bringing to the reading of these films staunch convictions about the movies and their function. Through the articulation of their views, each gave Indian melodramas their image and their significance as a cultural product. Otherworldly, cathartic, aesthetically spectacular, morally edifying, politically expedient, commercially lucrative, banal and corrupting - Indian melodramas meant different things to different people. They agreed to disagree. The cultural practices that emerged around the Indian melodrama in post-Stalinist society were a space where the meaning of the Indian melodrama was contested between those who defended it with candor and conviction and those who despaired of its popularity among seemingly 'gullible' Soviet moviegoers. Here, negotiation, adaptation, debate and
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appeasement played a role in the relationship between the cultural 'vanguard' and the movie audience. Soviet reception of Indian popular films constituted a participatory "zone of debate," where dominant and alternative cinematic preferences found expression and where dialogue (implicit and explicit) was present.
The Soviet audience and its repository of imagined worlds In a field where the tendency has been to assess Soviet openness to the world beyond
its borders by examining its foreign policy actions and rhetoric, this project brings new perspective to our understanding of Soviet society's exposure to lives lived elsewhere. While the Soviet state could determine how porous the borders should be and what media may be allowed in for domestic audiences, it could exercise no control over how media were read and used by audiences to contemplate alternative realities. The legislated presence of foreign cinema, in this case Indian melodramas, ensured that Soviet audiences would often have access to images of alternative social landscapes. Owing to their consumption of films that demonstrated societies unlike their own, Soviet moviegoers were always aware that their social or political lives were not the norm and that there were divergent cultural definitions of what constituted the public good and personal fulfillment. Whether these images of other worlds reaffirmed their belief in the choices made for them by Soviet ideologues or whether they inspired them to think critically about their own reality and alternative ways to live within it, exposure to foreign media definitely enhanced Soviet audiences' self-reflexivity and cognizance of other possible lives. India, through its films, expanded the social landscape of many Soviet moviegoers. Although Indian films' resolutions earned them the reputation of being skazkaesque, they
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were mostly read as documentaries of India. Viewers' narratives and audience letters over the decades offer a preliminary understanding of how the social and cultural vistas that these films offered expanded the imagined realm of possibilities for many admirers. Audience readings of the films demonstrate that the visual and cultural language of the films caused many moviegoers to contemplate what they appreciated or disliked in their own milieu. The fact that personal emotions and 'human problems' were at the heart of the Indian film prompted many admirers to question the overly ideological strains of domestic cinema. Why do we have to have films about the war; why must we watch the same old factories all the time; why does our government pretend there are no personal issues, they demanded to know. The colors and generally exuberant festive ethos ofIndian melodramas acted as a counterpoint to what many admirers saw as the greyness of their own social realities. The privileging of courtship and romancing in the films suggested other possible personal scenarios, as many admirers sought the same kind of romance or partners that Indian melodramas established as a standard. The capacity of this cinema to 'transport' viewers to India, where they could observe in detail its many material and ethnographic features, expanded the geographical terrain of their imagination and teased the real limits of their mobility. These films made viewers conscious of lived realities elsewhere. Often, the recognition of shared attributes and historical trajectories made the distant skazkaesque reality of India seem comfortingly familiar and attainable. In other words, the attraction of this other world ofIndian cinema was augmented by many moviegoers' sense of cultural affmity with India. Here, imagination was also social practice, as admirers engaged in other pursuits to learn more about India and its films and created communities that shared this interest. The
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political rhetoric that invariably described India as Soviet Union's friend and ally could only have enhanced the audience's desire and ability to learn more about India and her cinema. Many moviegoers in Moscow and areas removed from the centre were inspired to study India and engage professionally with that country. Others collected memorabilia associated with these films and India, and pursued their interest in Indian melodramas by learning (and now teaching) Indian classical dances or exchanging film-related information with others who shared their fascination for this cinema. The recollection of building a raft to sail to India and vying with others to dress in Indian fashion at competitions in summer camp are some instances of how these melodramas inspired admirers to live more expansively than prescribed by their local realities. In attributing importance to the Soviet audience and its readings of Indian melodramas, this project offers an alternative perspective on the nature of Soviet society and deviates from scholars' assumption of the centrality of the west in the Soviet Union's relationship with the rest of the world. The role of transnational forms of cultural expression such as Indian cinema in encouraging viewers to play (wittingly or unwittingly) with the prescribed restrictiveness of Soviet society begs further exploration. But for now, what this project has unearthed is the influence of a global cultural force other than America in the shaping of moviegoing habits and cultural preferences in the Soviet Union.
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Appendix I: Viewership statistics The success ofIndian melodramas in the Soviet Union
Table 1.1 Most successful foreign productions between 1954 and 19891 Country
Number of f:tlms with more than 20 min. Soviet viewers
50 41 38 14
India USA France Francel Italy Italy Poland GDR
12 8 8
Table 1.2 Indian fIlms with more than 20 million viewers between 1954 and 19892 Year
Title of f:tlm
Viewer turnout (in millions)
Rank3
1954
The Vagabond Storms Baiju Bawra
63,7 25,0 21,4
1 16 20
1955 1956 1957 1958 1959 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 1965
-
-
-
Mr. 420 Mother
34,3 22,9
2 20
-
-
-
New Delhi
25,7/23,6
18
-
Four hearts, Four Roads Love in Simla Sujata
-
-
39,8
4
35,0/33,8
3 10
27,1126,5
-
-
-
Flower in the Dust Anuradha In the Cover of Night Ganga Jamuna
36,8 35,7 33,6
4 8 10
32,2/3,7
11
1 Source: Rosinfonnkino' s compilation of viewership statistics for the most popular Soviet and foreign films (Rosinfonnkino); the criterion to qualify for the list was viewer turnout above 20 million viewers. 2 Ibid. 3 The film's ranking among Soviet and foreign films each year, suggested by the viewership statistics in this chart.
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Year 1966 1967 1968 1969
1970 1971 1972
1973 1974 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980
1981 1982
1983 1984 1985
1986 1987 1988 1989
Title of Film
You are my life Maternal Love Desire Poetry in stone Flower and Stone Confidante Devotion The Advocate's Son Ram and Shyam I am a Clown Road to Happiness
Viewer Turnout (in millions)
Rank
26,7 52,1151,8 40,6 38,0 46,4 42,2 47,4 45,5 33,4 29,0/22,6/21,5 24,6
23 3 6 7 4 3 3 4 9 13 20
-
-
-
Elephants are my friends Bobby Our nation Sita and Gita
34,8
11
62,6 30,1 55,2
2 10 4
-
-
Gunpowder Mother Alibaba and forty thieves Handcuffed Trident Two strangers Beloved Raja Righteous Hero Innocent Thieves Make Noise Vows and Promises Abdullah Such a Liar Disco Dancer Master of his Fate Destiny Three Brothers Who and How? Prince All-Powerful Land Grant IfI didn't have you
-
60,0 37,9 52,8
1 8 5
37,6 29,7 29,3 40,1 32,0 26,2 25,9 23,8 31,9 23,9 60,9 252 24,5 24,2 23,8 23,0 20,9 26,2 24,8
9 14 15 3 8 11 12 19 5 14 1 10 10 11 12 13 15 8 8
-
-
-
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Appendix II: Indian popular films and actors4 Indian cinema has two main streams of filmmaking - popular/commercial/melodramatic and realist or art cinema. Soviet theaters predominantly demonstrated Indian popular films or melodramas. Below is a brief overview of the most talked about Indian melodramas in the Soviet Union and the melodrama stars who earned frequent mention in viewers' surveys and interviews. The year mentioned in parentheses is the year of screening in the Soviet Union, and not the year of production in India (Often, the time lag between production in India and reception in the Soviet Union was great). Indian popular cinema Indian popular fIlms or melodramas are formulaic, in that they have standard features and narratives. Like melodramas elsewhere, these films present a very explicit moral universe, where the good and evil characters are very pronounced and the former inevitably emerges victor. These films explore social issues, often at a personal level in the family unit and in the sphere of romantic heterosexual love. The resolutions they suggest occur within the system, earning such films the reputation of being conservative because they never challenge the social order to the end. It is the generic elements of these films, which mark them out as distinctive among world melodramas. Indian popular films or melodramas use music to convey emotions during critical junctures in the films. The use of dance (often staged and spectacular) is also characteristic of these films. Between the 1950s and 1980s, when they were screened in the Soviet Union, Indian popular films underwent several thematic shifts. The fifties are known as the Golden Age of Indian popular cinema. The films of the immediate post-independence period (after 1947) were imbued with the political orientations of their filmmakers who made up the cultural intelligentsia during the independence movement. This was a period of the 'urbanization' of Indian consciousness, and films dealt self-consciously with the ills associated with urbanization. These were rural-urban migration, unemployment, poverty, destitution and social injustices. Films made in this decade were the works of filmmakers such as K.A Abbas, Raj Kapoor and Bimal Roy, known for their 'progressive' credentials. The Vagabond (Awaral Brodiaga; 1954) is the most famous fifties film in the Soviet Union. Made in 1951, the film is about Raju (played by Raj Kapoor), the son ofa reputed judge (Raghunath), who ends up being raised by a criminal (Jagga). The film's main tenet is that it is not birth that determines status, but circumstance. Raju becomes a petty thief under the influence of Jagga. He finds out later that Raghunath is his real father, who had mercilessly abandoned his mother. He also discovers that Jagga is responsible for the misunderstanding between his parents. He kills Jagga and attempts to murder Raghunath. During his trial his childhood sweetheart Rita (played by Nargis) is the advocate who defends him in the courtroom. These films of the fifties demonstrate realism, even while using the features of melodramatic cinema; hence, Indian film scholars refer them to as social-melodramas.
4 Rajadhyaksha and Willeman, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema; B.D. Garga, So Many Cinemas: The Motion Picture in India. Eminence Designs, 1996.
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Two Acres of Land (Do bigha zameenl Dva bigkha zemli; 1954) was a 'realist' film within the popular cinema tradition, and it narrates the story of a small landowner in a droughtstruck village. He is forced to move to the city for work, in order to repay the village moneylender. The film portrays the miseries of urban life for new rural migrants, in the wake of colonialism; it acts as a social critique ofthe industrialization policies of the fifties. Awakening (Jagritil Probuzhdenie; 1956) has been called a "nation-building" film, because it is steeped in the nationalist ethos of the fifties. s A young boy is sent to a boarding school so he can mend his truant ways. There, a disciplinarian supervisor arrives to reform the school and make the students responsible citizens of a young nation. The film is replete with nationalist images and references to patriotic leaders of the freedom struggle. Ultimately, the errant students are transformed into model citizens, and the supervisor leaves to perform his reforming magic in another school. Storms (Aandhiyaanl Uragan; 1954) is said to have 'argued for a humane form of capitalism.' The hero, Ram Mohan, is an honest lawyer who loves and seeks to marry Janaki, the daughter of a local businessperson, Din Dayal. The villain, a business rival, blackmails Din Dayal into arranging his own marriage with Janaki. Rani is the second female protagonist, whose love for the lawyer is unrequited; yet she selflessly rallies the community around her to help Ram Mohan marry Janaki. Baiju Bawra (-f-; 1954) is a film that narrates a fictional incident in the life of a famous court musician in medieval India. The film was a massive success and is best known for its use of North Indian classical music. Two Leaves and a Bud (Rahil Ganga; 1954) is set in colonial India and tells the story of oppressed tea plantation workers employed by an English plantation manager. The manager hires an Indian army officer, the hero, to run the plantation like a regiment. The female protagonist, a woman who works on the plantation, tempers the hero's own disciplinarian ways. Like her, he becomes sympathetic to the plight of the plantation workers. Ultimately, these workers rebel against the manager with the help of the hero, but the female lead character dies for her effort. Mother India (Mother India, Mat' Indiia; 1961) a classic, was made in 1957 and has the status of a national epic in India. The central character is Radha, who tells the story in flashbacks. Radha single-handedly raises three sons in a village. Radha' s husband has left her because he is crippled; so she and her sons toil the fields to pay off the local moneylender. Radha eventually kills a rebellious son so at least his blood can fertilize the soil. Replete with highly symbolic scenes, this film set the trend for similar works in the decade to follow. New Road (Naya Daurl Novaia doroga), made in 1957, was a melodrama that argued for humane and traditional means to industrialize. A remote village is exposed to new machinery. The residents hold divergent views on how industrialization must occur in a village rent by religious and caste divisions. In classic Indian melodrama tradition, the conflict is the subtext in a story of the rivalry of two men vying for the female protagonist's love.
5 Chakravarty, National Identity in Indian Popular Cinema, 125.
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The Foreigner (pardesilKhozhdenie za tri moria; 1957) was the first Indo-Soviet production, encouraged by the friendly relations between Nehruvian India and Khrushchevera Soviet Union. The film tells the story of Afanasii Nikitin, the Russian merchant and traveler who sailed to India in the 15th century. The film is part-fiction and weaves a romantic story around Nikitin and an Indian woman, and is set in choice Indian tourist destinations. The script was based on Nikitin's own account of his journey and stay in India, Khozhdenie
za tri moria. Biraj Bahn (-/-; 1957), a film based on a Bengali novel, is centered on the female protagonist (Biraj) and her husband. When her brother-in-law leaves them penniless, Biraj takes it upon herself to work and make the wedding of her sister-in-law possible. Her troubles are compounded when a local powerful landowner begins to make advances on her. Moreover, she grows to be disillusioned with her husband. Biraj is intent on making her husband happy but gradually becomes cynical in her views of men and their attitude towards women. Mirza Ghalib (-/- ; 1956) is a costume drama about the life and poetry of the famous Mirza Ghalib, who was court poet under the last Mughal emperor of India in the early 19th century. The film, which showcases his beautiful Urdu poetry, is mainly the story of his romance with a courtesan. Mr. 420 (Shree 420; Gospodin 420 ; 1956) was a Raj Kapoor film following upon the success of The Vagabond, where he plays a vagabond again, falling victim to the city's "cruel and heartless" ways. The contrast between the selfless and kind poor and the corrupt and heartless rich is typical of Kapoor fIlms, certainly in the fifties. One of the songs became legendary in the Soviet Union. A recent Russian film Kopeeika, produced in 2002, is set in sixties Russia and uses this melody as a refrain in its music score. Under Cover of Night (Jagte Rahol Pod pokrovom nochi; 1965) is also a Kapoor film. He plays a peasant who breaks into a residential building, and takes cover in apartment after apartment looking for water. In the course of the narrative, the viewer gets a glimpse into middle-class life; what Kapoor wants us to see is its 'hypocrisy' and distance from the realities of the less privileged. His character in this film is clearly inspired by Chaplin and his pantomime performances. Snjata (Sujata/Neprikasaemaia; 1963) is a reformist melodrama, typical of the fifties. An upper class and upper caste family adopts an orphaned lower caste girl, Sujata, but never fails to remind her of her 'lowly' origins. She is reduced to performing manual domestic tasks in and around the house. The hero is an upper caste, 'progressive' individual who falls in love with Sujata. When the life of an upper caste family member is in danger, and a blood donor is sought, Sujata donates her blood to save the patient's life. The symbolism of the act - that her blood is no different from theirs - causes her adoptive family to abandon their caste prejudices. The Land where the Ganges flows (Jis desh mein ganga behti hail Strana gde techet gang) is yet another fifties reformist film, in which Raj Kapoor plays a pacifist. He ends up reforming an entire gang of bandits, and falls in love with the chiefbandit's daughter, played by Indian actor Padmini. Padmini became popular in the Soviet Union after the making of the joint Indo-Soviet film 'Foreigner' in 1958, on the travels of Afanasy Nikitin in India.
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Flower in the Dust (Dhool lea Phooll Tsvetok v pyJi; 1965), made in 1959, has a similar story line to The Vagabond. It is an epic melodrama where the protagonists have an affair that leaves the woman pregnant. The hero, however, is forced by his parents to marry a rich heiress. The pregnant woman, not wanting to be stigmatized for being an unwed mother, abandons the baby in a forest. The child grows up, consistently ostracized because of his 'illegitimate' birth, and falls into bad ways. The climax scene is his defense in a courtroom, where the presiding judge is his father, and his advocate, his mother's husband. Ganga Jamuna (Ganga Jamuna/Ganga Dzhamna; 1965), made in 1961 in India, was also very popular in the Soviet Union. It is a story of two brothers on opposite sides of the law. One brother, Ganga, lives in the village and is framed by the local landlord for a crime he did not commit. His brother Jamuna is a police officer in the city. In the climax, Jamuna shoots Ganga dead, and does not even spare his girlfriend Dhanno, played by Indian actor Vyjayanthimala. The film has been defined as a dacoit drama and "a cross between 30s Hollywood gangster films and westerns. ,,6
The popular cinema of the sixties and seventies saw a new hero-type emerge in films. The new romantic hero was not a reformer, nor was his character or life story to tell of Indian's social malaises. This was often a wealthy hero with a zest for living; he was a philanderer, who mended his ways only upon meeting his 'true love.' The virtues of this hero-type were his humor, abandon, and his agile dancing skills. Love in Simla (Love in SimlalLiubov' v Simle; 1961) was a film in this tradition. The film has two female characters, one sophisticated and the other naIve and unassuming. Both are drawn to the hero who is a 'happy-go-lucky' frivolous sort. The naIve female protagonist is transformed into a beautiful, confident woman, who eventually wins the hero's affection. The Confluence (Sangaml -; 1968) was Raj Kapoor's first color film, shot extensively in India and Europe. It is the story of two men in love with the same woman. Scholars have also suggested that it is really the "romance of two men interrupted by a woman.,,7 Sunder (Raj Kapoor) and Gopal (Rajendra Kumar) are both in love with Radha (Vyjayanthimala). Sunder marries Radha and Gopal withdraws from the scene. However, Sunder is consumed with doubts about Radha's fidelity. Ultimately, it is Gopal's reassurances that put Sunder's doubts to rest. The film ends with Gopal committing suicide to allow Sunder to live with Radha, without doubt and suspicion. 'Confluence' was the first film to be shot in Europe, setting a trend for 'exotic' locales in mainstream cinema henceforth. The shots in Europe were not central to the film narrative, but ensured high box-office returns in India and caught Soviet viewers' attention. s Devotion (AradhanaJ Predannost'; 1972) was a "musical romance about non-family sanctioned sex.,,9 The hero is killed in a flying accident and his lover is left pregnant with his 6 Rajadhyaksha and Willemen, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema, 367 7 ibid., 382.
8 See Chapter 4 for viewers' letters on the appeal of the film 'Confluence.' 9 Rajadhyaksha and Willemen, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema, 398.
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child. The hero's parents refuse to accept the young woman as their son's 'legal' wife. She is forced to give the child up for adoption but tends to him as his nanny and encourages him to grow up to be a pilot like his father. In the early seventies, the film Bobby (Bobby/- ; 1975) set the trend for teenage love stories. Raj Kapoor produced and directed this film, in which his son Rishi Kapoor starred in the lead role. Class distinctions do not prevent the son of a wealthy businessman from falling in love with Bobby Braganza, the daughter of a prosperous Goan angler. The film was meant originally to have a tragic ending until distributors in India insisted on a happy end. Eventually, this was a contrived kidnapping scene, in which the hero rescues the female protagonist, and the families reconcile. Sita and Gita (Sita aur GitaiZita i Gita; 1976) was a classic double-role entertainer made in 1974. Twins Sita and Gita separated at birth, grow up to be diametrically opposite personalities. Raised by a tyrant of an aunt and subjected to the lascivious attention of her uncle, Sita is withdrawn and afraid. Gita raised by a gypsy grows up to be a boisterous woman, unafraid of adversity and willing to take on the world. The two sisters do not know of each other's existence and when they switch places by accident, a comedy of errors follows. Gita, always ready for fisticuffs, has Sita's family recoiling in fear, while Sita feels at home in the loving ambience of Gita' s home. The hilarity is only enhanced by the presence of the two sisters' lovers, who mistake one for the other. The truth of their relationship is found out, and all ends well.
I am a Clown (Mera Naam Joker/ Menia zovut kloun; 1972) is often seen as Raj Kapoor's autobiographical film. A three-part film, the story is replete with references to Kapoor's life and work. Part 2 was made with the help of the Soviet Union; Kapoor, an Indian clown, falls for the charms of a Russian circus artist. He remains a loner, while women enter and leave his life. His one mission is to please his audience, despite his own tragic loneliness. Reportedly, the Soviet involvement in the film was a token of Kapoor's gratitude to Soviet audiences for their loyalty to him.lO Beloved Raja (Raja JanilLiubimyi Radzha; 1980) is the story of two con artists. The heroine, a fugitive, meets a suave businessman, Raja Jani. They faU in love, and he attempts to transform her into a socialite. She is well received among his wealthy friends, but is in for a rude shock. She soon fmds out that Raja is no businessman after all, but a petty criminal using her for self-serving ends.
The mid seventies and eighties saw the emergence of a new political ethos in Hindi films, and concomitantly a new hero-type. The social tensions in India in the 1970s, rising unemployment, and the minimal protection the state machinery seemed to offer the dispossessed found expression in Indian popular cinema of this decade and the next. The hero was usually one who attempted a redistribution of power and prevented the exploitation of the poor by bureaucrats or the police. He stepped in to do that which the system and its politicians seemed incapable or uninterested in doing. Amitabh Bachchan, the biggest star ever of the Indian film industry, was the actor inextricably associated with this new cinema. IO Rajadhyaksha and Willemen, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema, 404.
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He became the angry young man of the seventies and early eighties cinema. One of his films, screened successfully in the Soviet Union, was 'Embers.' Embers (Sholayl Mest' i zakon; 1979), made in 1975, is an adventure film and "India's bestknown 'curry' western patterned on Italian westerns."ll An ex-cop hires two crooks Veeru (played by Dharmendra) and Jaidev (played by Amitabh Bachchan), to help avenge the massacre of his family by the bandit Gabbar Singh. In the film's denouement, Jaidev is killed trying to protect Veeru, before the bandit is finally delivered to the ex-cop to have his revenge. The film is famous for its spectacular cinematography and impressive fight scenes, and its dialogues are remembered until this day in India. Gunpowder (Barood/ Mstitel'; 1977), a film made in 1976, is about a young hero on an avenging mission. His father, a police officer, is murdered by a gang of bandits. The hero single-handedly brings the criminals to justice. All-Powerful (Vidhaata! Vse-mogushchii; 1985) is a story of two friends; one believes that an individual controls his/her own destiny, while the other believes in fate. The first, traumatized by the murder of his son who was a police officer, turns to a life of crime. His grandson eventually chooses to live with the friend who remains poor, but whose values he finds eminently preferable. Disco Dancer (Disco DancerlTantsor Disko; 1984). The disco age in India affected popular cinema in the early eighties. This is the story of young Jimmy (played by Mithun Chakraborty) who grows up to be the king of disco in India! He falls in love with a young woman who happens to be the daughter and sister of the two men trying to dethrone him in the disco world. The songs are catchy and Mithun became phenomenally popular with his role in the film. This film is more fondly remembered in the Soviet Union than in India. Master of his fate (Muqaddar ka Sikandarl Vladyka sud'by; 1984) portrays a loner hero. The woman the hero loves is in love with his friend and the woman in love with the hero commits suicide. The hero dies in the finale of the film. The Crumbling Sky (Pighalta Aasmaanl Taiushcie oblaka; 1987) is a standard story of a love-triangle. A wealthy entrepreneur and her secretary are both attracted to the same man.
In did not have you (Agar tum na hotel Esli ty ne so mnoi; 1987), is once again a film with a love-triangle. One ofthe heroes, Ashok, has lost his wife. When he hires a photographer for his company's ad campaign, things get complicated. The photographer's wife is the spitting image of Ashok's late wife, and Ashok falls in love with her. Things get dramatic when she takes up a job as nanny to Ashok's daughter. Birth (Janaml Rozhdenie; 1989) is a film made for television in 1985. It is an offbeat melodrama that tens the story of a young musician who tries to succeed on a competitive music scene. He has a wife and child to support; the film tells of his struggle to realize his dreams and the repercussions it has for his family.
11 Rajadhyaksha and Willemen, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema, 426.
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Dance Dance (Dance Dance/ Tantsui tantsui; 1989) was made after the success of Disco Dancer with Mithun Chakraborty. Two siblings are left to fend for themselves when their mother is kidnapped and their father murdered by the villain. The film tells the story of the young boy who sings to earn a living and gradually rises to stardom. Land Grant (Jagir/kak tri musk/cetera; 1987) is the story of three musketeers who play 'Robin Hood,' in a characterization typical of the seventies and eighties. The film is about the quest for a treasure, and the conflict between the rightful claimant to the treasure and the villain. The heroes are typically inclined to share the treasure with those in need, rather than allow it to fall into the hands of the wealthy villain.
There were several other melodramas that were imported into the Soviet Union. Here, I have sketched the story lines of films that interviewees and respondents recalled most frequently and that surface regularly in other discussions or discourses.
Indian melodrama stars12 Some of the Indian melodrama stars remembered fondly until today in the former Soviet Union, are those who performed in the above films.
Raj Kapoor, director, actor and 'showman,' belonged to one ofIndia's film dynasties. 'The Vagabond,' released in 1951 in India, was his third film; he was both director of this film and its lead actor. Over the next few decades, the films he made always addressed social ills and the need for reform, but his films also became increasingly spectacular and sexually explicit. It has been suggested that he was an "apolitical romantic whose reaction to socio-economic inequity and injustice was emotional rather than intellectual.,,13 His acting and directorial skills also won him awards in the Soviet Union. Nargis was a megastar in Hindi cinema, known as the 'First Lady of the Indian Screen' in the 1940s and 1950s. Her roles ranged from independent advocate in The Vagabond to champion of the oppressed peasantry in the film 'Mother India' released in India in 1957. This was her last film, but she did continue to play an important public role in politics. She was honored by both the Indian and Soviet governments several times. Vyjayanthimala was enormously popular in the sixties, and in the former Soviet Union she is remembered fondly for her role in films like Confluence. In Indian popular films, she was prized primarily for her training in a South Indian classical dance form and her adaptation of that form for the cinematic medium. Bema Malini was known as the "Dream Girl" of the seventies in India. Her performance in 'Sita and Gita' and 'Embers' got her rave reviews. Her films in the seventies were mainly crime thrillers and love stories. In the late seventies, she tried her hand at character roles, which relied less on her glamorous appearance than her earlier roles had. 12 Rajadhyaksha and WiIIeman, Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema; Garga, So Many Cinemas. I3 Garga, So Many Cinemas, 158.
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Dharmendra was an extremely popular actor ofIndian popular films between the sixties and eighties. His films ranged from reformist social melodramas and psychodramas to comedies and action films. In the seventies, he was often paired in films with Hema Malini (to whom he is also married); for instance, they acted together in Sita and Gita, and Embers. He was also lead actor with Amitabh Bachchan in the Indo-Soviet production, 'Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves."
Rishi Kapoor, famous among Soviet moviegoers for his roles in Bobby and other films, is a member of the Raj Kapoor dynasty. He won an award for his role of a teenager with a crush on his teacher in Raj Kapoor's 'I am a Clown.' He mainly starred in films about young love, and is forever associated with the film 'Bobby.' Amitabh Bachchan, who defmed the new Indian popular films of the seventies and eighties with his angry young man image, has been called the 'superstar' of the century. His immense acting talent, his expressive eyes and the deep timbre of his voice ensured his popularity in the Indian sub-continent and beyond. He established himself as a tremendous actor with his early films in the sixties, where he played the 'brooding, melancholic anti-hero.' In the seventies and eighties, he changed the face of Indian popular cinema with his vendetta films; these films were inspired by working class agitations in India in that decade. In the former Soviet Union, he is remembered for his role in 'Embers,' 'Master of his Fate' and other films. His fans are called "Bachchanists."
Rekha has been one of Indian popular cinema's most glamorous·stars. She played a spectrum of roles in both Indian popular films and in art cinema. Several of her films were very popular in the Soviet Union. In 1992, on a trip to Panevezhis in Lithuania, I was astonished to see a life-size poster of Rekha in the house where I was invited to stay as a guest. Viewers in the former Soviet Union remember her films even today. Mithun Chakraborty first performed in realist films made in West Bengal, but his popularity soared with his performance and his agile dancing in 'Disco Dancer.' Mithun's early work was in political films, but after Disco Dancer, he performed mainly in thrillers and love stories. He was immensely popular with semi-urban and rural audiences in India, and his participation ensured wide and long-term distribution of a film. His admirers are referred to as "Mithunists" in the former Soviet Union.
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Appendix HI Indian 'progressive'l art filmmakers and their filins14 Indian art cinema is an umbrella tenn used to refer to several techniques in filmmaking. Although actively supported by the state since the 1960s, most art films made in all the film-producing centres of the country are low-budget film projects. Some filmmakers who received frequent mention in Soviet critical writing are the following. K.A. Abbas: Although not associated with Indian art cinema, Abbas' early 'progressive' popular films of the fifties earned him a place in several Soviet critical reviews ofIndian cinema. Abbas was part of a large circle of radical writers in pre-independence India and was the founder member of the Indian People's Theater Association of India, which hosted political plays in the early forties. Some of his early films were socialist-realist, and others were realist melodramas, such as 'The Vagabond.' He also co-directed the first Indo-Soviet production, 'Foreigner,' with Soviet director Vasilii M. Pronin. Satyajit Ray was one of India's most celebrated realist filmmakers, recipient of awards in India and outside India, both in the West and the fonner Soviet Union. Ray, who was a Bengal based filmmaker, did not work in any particular genre, preferring to set his films in various contexts, temporal and spatial. His films were critiques of upper class snobbery, middle class pettiness, as well as narratives of contemporary Calcutta. He used a range of genres from melodrama to detective and fantasy genres to portray moral and social dilemmas of the individual. Mrinal Sen is also a Bengal-based filmmaker. His film 'Bhuvan Shome' is said to have launched the new Indian cinema era in the sixties, when the state actively began to pursue the development of an art or realist cinema movement. His films ranged from the overtly political 'agit-prop' genre to films using symbolism and melodrama. Shyam Benegal whose films featured regularly in Soviet film festivals and earned several reviews in the press, worked within the commercial film industry but made social critical films that were very popular. Often, his films were set in rural India, and were a scathing, but subtle, critique of feudal attitudes and systems in parts of India. Several other filmmakers of India's realist cinema won critical appreciation in the Soviet press. For instance, Adoor Gopalakrishnan was acclaimed for his films in the Malayalam language of the southern state of Kerala in India, and K. Hariharan for his films in Tamil. Their films, as many other films of Indian realist cinema, tackled the changes industrialization has wrought in traditional societies within India.
14 Ashish Rajadhyaksha and Paul Willeman, The Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema; B.D. Garga, So Many Cinemas: The Motion Picture in India.
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Indian art tllms15 The art films listed below appear in the text, in chapters 2 and 3. The year mentioned within parentheses is the year the film was purchased by Soveksportfil'm. For those films that were not purchased, but only screened in festivals, I mention the year of production in the description of the film. The Uprooted (ChinnamoolIObezdolennye; 1949) was a film made in 1950 in the style of a newsreel that documented the exodus of refugees from East Bengal after partition (East Bengal became a part of Pakistan in 1947, and gained independence from Pakistan to become Bangladesh in 1971). The film is the epitome of early realistic cinema in India, with the inclusion of non-professional actors, the absence of songs and the use a concealed camera. The film failed to do well commercially in India and suffered losses; these were compensated by Soviet purchase and promotion of the film upon Vsevolod Pudovkin' s recommendation. Chlldren of the Earth (Dharti Ke Lall Deli zemli; 1951) was also a strongly realist film about the Bengal famine of 1943 that caused many farmers to migrate to Calcutta and other cities. It was made the year before independence, in 1946. The protagonist's family suffers the trials of making ends meet in urban India; soon the protagonist's wife turns to prostitution. The film ends with the farmers in the village calling for collectivism in the Soviet tradition as a solution to their problems. The finale is patently socialist-realist, but the film also has strains of the melodrama in its narrative. The Unvanquished (Aparajitol-), made by Satyajit Ray in 1956, was part of an internationally acclaimed trilogy of films Ray made in the fifties. Aparajito was the second film, and charts the life choices of the protagonist (Apu), a Brahmin priest's son. He chooses to go to school and rejects his father's vocation. The film follows Apu through his years at school in Calcutta, while his disillusioned mother falls ill and dies back home. Someone like you - no information available Apasvaranam - no information available. Our Lenin - no information available. Face to face (Mukha Mukhaml Litsom k litsu), was a political melodrama made in the state of Kerala in 1984; it tens the story ofa young trade union leader, whose stance against mechanization at his factory makes him a hero for the radical populists in the state. As the years pass, his admirers become witness to his human frailties. Politically, he becomes a symbol for all kinds of opposing factions, disillusioning his supporters. The film is a critique of the left movement and its lack of cohesiveness and strength in the Kerala of the fifties. The Half-Truth (Ardh Satya! Polupravda) was made in 1984; it is a film about police brutality. It presents us with the frustrations and desperation of a Bombay police inspector, 15 Rajadhyaksha and Willeman,
Encyclopaedia ofIndian Cinema; Garga, So Many Cinemas.
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who is anxious to arrest an elusive gangster politician. Eventually, he takes the law into his own hands, kins the gangster and surrenders to the police. The film is a fast-paced, realistic film and did exceedingly well at the box-office. Sagina Mahato (Sagina Mahatol- ; 1973) tells the story of the exploitation of workers in preindependence India by colonial administrators and a local communist party. The film is a critique of power politics in political parties, and the victimization of workers in that power struggle. The Adventure of Goopy and Bagha (Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne/Gopi i Bagha) is a Satyajit Ray film made in 1968. It is based on a fairytale his grandfather had written. Two amateur musicians are banned from a royal court because of their inadequate playing skills. A ghostking appears and offers them magic slippers, which could take them wherever they please. In a nearby kingdom, the pair become court musicians to the king of Shundi. They discover that the king's brother rules in a nearby kingdom, and that his prime minister is a diabolic schemer trying to drive a wedge between the two brothers. Goopy and Bagha help avert war and the king marries his daughters to them, as a reward for their heroic efforts. The film was a children's fantasy tale and mixed a number of genres from comic strip to folk theater. Soldier - no information available. Role (Bhumika! Rol,), made in 1976, is a Shyam Benegal film about a young girl's rise to stardom in the film world; it is based on the autobiography of a Bombay theater actor in the 1930s. The film explores the central character's struggle for autonomy in a world and era where women entertainers faced constant prejudices. Her relationships with men also fail her; ultimately, she chooses solitude above the company of men and her daughter, realizing she is most free when alone.
Cry of the Wounded (Aakroshl Krik ranenogo; 1984) has as its protagonist, a young lawyer, who defends a tribal (Lahanya) accused of killing his wife. In fact, the wife of the tribal is raped and killed by certain politicians and businesspersons. The police force is hand in glove with the perpetrators, increasing the helplessness of the lawyer and his activist friends. When Lahanya is released to attend the funeral of his wife, he seizes the moment to kill his sister, so the same fate will not befall her. The film ends with his agonized cry of anguish; hence, the title of the film. The filmmaker, Govind Nihalani, was one of the first in the eighties to straddle popular and realist cinema, just as his fifties predecessors had done. His films were extremely wen edited and fast paced. A Folk Tale (Bhavni Bhavai/-) is an exceedingly clever film, made in 1980, that uses the traditional Gujarati dance drama tradition, Bhavai, to tell the story of caste untouchability in India. The film has a narrator, who sings the story of a group of untouchables traveling to the city in pre-independence India; this is done in the tradition of the dance drama. Book (Kitaab/Kniga zhizni; 1981) is a film that chronicles the fears and aspirations of a small boy and his experiences in the city. Eventually, he returns to his native village. Interview (Interview/lnterv'iu; 1973) was the first in a trilogy offilms made by Mrinal Sen. This was a phase in his work, when his films were explicitly political. The film tells the story
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of the frustrations of a young man, unable to find employment because he does not own a suit. He turns up for his job interview in 'traditional' Indian clothes and fails to get the job. The film raises the issue of the residues of colonialism in Indian society. It ends symbolically, with the hero smashing a western-looking mannequin in a shop window. Night's End (Nishantl Konets nochi; 1975) is a film about rural oppression. A schoolteacher and his wife arrive in a village, only to fmd that oppressive local landlords have the villagers at their mercy. The landlords abduct and rape the teacher's wife. The film is about his attempts to motivate the villagers to seek justice. They eventually kill the local oppressors and avenge the rape of the teacher's wife. Eyes (Chokhl Glaza), made in 1982, is set in the Emergency period between 1975 and 1977, when Indira Gandhi suspended civil liberties. The film is about a trade union leader who is wrongly accused of murder, and is executed. He bequeaths his eyes to a fellow worker. However, the factory owner has them destroyed, a symbolic act that signifies the suppression of rebellion. Seventh Man (Ezhavathu manithanl Sed'moi) is a film about the conflict between workers and management in a factory, where the managers are involved in corrupt dealings. The film, made in 1982, is interspersed with the poetry of a classical Tamil poet, whose work is known for its utopian visions for India. The poetry is juxtaposed with the story to enhance the argument of the film. Spices (Mireh MasalalKrasnyi Perets) is set in pre-independence India and tells the story of a despotic tax collector, who forces all villagers to do his bidding. The only woman who resists does so in the courtyard of a spice factory, where the other women of the village also gather to grind pepper. The denouement of the film has the collector forcing himself into the grounds of the spice factory, whereupon the women collectively fling baskets of ground red pepper in his face, blinding him. This film, made in 1985, had a commercial release in New York, as well as in Indian cities. Rank and File (Padatik! Riadavoi) is a film by Mrinal Sen, made in 1973 to follow 'Interview.' It is about a young political activist of the Naxalite movement, who begins to reappraise the goals and the strategies of the movement. The Churning (Manthanl Dvizhenie), made in 1976, is about an organization that was established in Gujarat, a state in north-west India, to coordinate the work of milk cooperatives and allow them to reap the benefits of technology. It is about the difficulties the organization faces in overcoming corruption among local bureaucrats and prejudices of those unused to new means of production. An Indian dream (Oru Indhiya kanavul Boevoi kliueh) tells of the commitment of a young political activist, who decides to take up the cause of tribal communities fighting social injustices. A friend, an honest local police officer, helps her in her mission. The film was made in 1983.
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Appendix IV: Questionnaire on Indian cinema in Soviet theaters in the 1950s and 1960s (Send in the completed questionnaire to Sudha Rajagopalan by October 15,2002) (Questions in bold are ofthe most significance for this research. Please write a detailed answer on a separate sheet when addressing the emphasized questions). Place and year of birth: Gender: Ethnic origin: Educational qualifications: Profession: Place of residence: 1) When and where did you first watch Indian films? 2) Which film/s was it/were they? 3) Who introduced you to Indian films? 4) How often did you watch films in the 50s and 60s? i. Less than once a month ii. Twice a month iii. Once a week iv. Several times a week v. Other 5) What was your main reason for choosing to watch an Indian film? i. The plot ii. The genre iii. Advertising iv. Review v. Recommendation of friends/family vi. Name of director or actors vii. Other
6) Which theaters in your city or town showed Indian films in the 1950s and 1960s?
7) What appealed to you most about the Indian movies of the 1950s and 1960s'1' Use a separate sheet for your detailed answer.
8) What do you remember about the first Indian film festival in 1954 or/and the second Indian film festival in 1956?
327 9) Write on a separate sheet about your favourite memory of Indian films of the 1950s and 1960s: This could be a scene from a film, your favourite star in a particular role, an event at the cinema, or an evening out or something else that you remember. 10) In what ways did you express your appreciation ofIndian films in the 1950s and 1960s: i. Trying to meet Indian film stars ii. Writing to Indian film stars iii. Collecting newspaper articles and reviews iv. Watching a favourite film more than once v. Other
11) Did you write to national film journals or newspapers about your appreciation for Indian films? If yes, which publications were these and in which year was it?
12) What significance did Indian films of the 50s and 60s have in your life personally? Use a separate sheet for your detailed answer. 13) Did you watch Indian fllms in the following periods: i. Seventies ii. Eighties iii. Nineties iv. Currently 14) Name any five films or actors/actresses of Indian movies that you remember the most. What is your most vivid memory of them? i. ii. iii. iv.
v. Movie-going in the fifties 15) What other foreign films ran in the theaters in your city or town in the 1950s? 16) Which of the following kinds of entertainment did you seek most in the 1950s? i. Film ii. Theater iii. Music iv. Other
17) What did you particularly enjoy about going to the cinema in the 1950s? Use a separate sheet for a detailed answer.
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Movie-going in the sixties 18) What other foreign films ran in the theaters in your city or town in the 1960s? 19) Which of the following kinds of entertainment did you seek most in the 1960s? i. Film ii. Theater iii. Music iv. Other
20) What did you particularly enjoy about going to the cinema in the 1960s? Use a separate sheet for a detailed answer.
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Appendix V ProfIle of questionnaire respondents and interviewees Questionnaire respondents
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.
Born 1943, Cheliabinsk, f/ rus/ financist. Born 1926, Vol'sk, f/ rus/ geologist Born 1934, Moscow, f/ rus/ university professor Born 1936, Ivanovo, rnI - / mathematician Born 1908, Baku, f/ arm! electrical engineer. Born 1936, Kiev, rnI Jew/ construction engineer. Born 1936, Moscow, f/ Uzb./ biologist. Born 1936, Moscow, fI Jew/ x-ray lab assistant Born 1933, Leningrad, f/ rus/ Pedagogue Born 1940, Moscow province, f/ rus/ 'cultural worker.' Born 1936, Moscow, f/ Jew/ interpreter Born 1936, Rostov province, rnI ukr/ engineer-manager Born 1950, Krasnodar province, f/ rus/ librarian Born 1958, Poltavskaia province, fI ukr/ factory worker. Born 1940, Piatigorsk, fI rus/ pensioner. Born 1932, Moscow, rnI rus/ radio-engineer. Born 1939, Moscow, f/ rus/ economist Born 1931, Gozhel' (Belorussia), fI-/ institute lecturer Born 1932, Briansk, f/ rus/ teacher Born 1949, Vysokonichi, fI rus/ radio editor Born 1936, Serpukhov province, f/ rus/ factory worker Born 1940, Moscow province, flrus/operator Born 1920, Tbilisi, f/ arm! doctor Born 1933, Moscow, rnI rus/ electrical engineer Born 1934, Moscow, rnI rus/ construction engineer Born 1939, Moscow, fI rus/ geologist Born 1949, Saratov, f/ rus/ bibliographer Born 1935, Voronezh, f/ rus/ accountant Born 1937, village Ren'evka, f/ rus/ director of creche Born 1947, Korsakov, fI rus/ architect Born 1936, Leningrad, f/ rus/ stewardess and engineer. Born 1940, Moscow province, rnI rus/ lathe operator. Born 1934, Moscow, f/ rus/ accountant.
330
Interviewees (listed in order of first appearance in the text) Boiarshchina, Leontina, b. 1926 Pokrovka (Kherson province in Ukraine), Russian, housewife. Belotserkovsldi, Igor' Miroslavovich, b. 1950 Ukraine, Ukrainian, film technician Kireeva, Valentina Mikhailovna, b. 1940 Moscow, Russian, accountant Shakarbekov, Asmatbek, b. 1953 Pamir, Tajik, teacher/stevedore Fazlova, Irina, b. 1966, Moscow, Russian, technical employee Gudin, Al'bert Nikolaevich, b. 1939 Kostroma province, Russian, film scholar. Beletskii, Evgenii, b. 1923 Zaporozhskaia province (Ukraine), Ukrainian, economist Egoreva, Tatiana, b. 1943 Yakutsk, Russian, Hindi and Gujarati translator for Radio Moscow Pechnikov, Gennadii Mikhailovich, b. 1926 Moscow, Russian, veteran theater performer Iakusheva, Anna, b. 1944 Leningrad, Russian, technician-electrician Viazavetskaia, Valentina Pavlovna, b. 1937 Tula, Russian, construction engineer Krinte, Guntis, b. 1940 Riga, Latvian, retired diplomat Martysheva, Anna Anatolevna, b. 1921 Ukraine, Russian, housewife. Volodina, Liubov' Alekseevna, b. 1944 Moscow, Russian, medical researcher Malaya, Emma, b. 1940 Moscow, Russian, costume specialist Dzhuraeva, Gavhar, b. 1950 Dushanbe, Tajik, Arabist Kruglova, Gul'nara, b. 1969, Khimki, Moscow province, TurkmenlRus, accountantprogrammer Arkhipova, Irina Viktorovna, b. 1947 Zhukovskii (Moscow province), Russian, documentalist Fedorchenko, Vera Andreevna, b. _ Kharkov (Ukraine), Ukrainian, film director Arnnova, Elena Iakovlevna, b. 1920s Moscow, Russian, biophysicist Sinishina, Elena Grigor'evna, b. 1975, Braslov (Belorussia), Russian, housewife. Zagrebel'ny, Valentin Nikolaevich, b. 1944 Samarkand, Russian, philologistl Indologist Bobrikov, Nikolai Fedorovich, b. 1941 Moscow, Russian, electrical/mechanical engineer Kurbatov, Gennadii Andreevich, b. 1936 Magnitogorsk, Russian, film historian Mel'ko, Elena Serafimovna, b. 1935 Moscow, Russian, biologist Tol'chinskaia, Lilia Issakovna, b. 1935 Moscow, Russian, librarian Semenova, Elena Vladimirovna, b. 1949 Leninskie Gori, Russian, biologist Fedorenko, Liubov' Viktorovna, b. 1950 Zhukovskii (Moscow province), Russian, economist Korchagov, Iurii, b. 1937 Kostroma, Russian, consultantiOrientalist Seliverstova, Ekaterina lur' evna, b. 1966, Moscow, Russian, engineer and dance choreographer. Zmeev, Dmitrii, b. 1965 Moscow, Russian, professional dancer Alimova, Alexandra Vladislavovna, b. 1969, Moscow, Russian, nurse. Marginovskaia, Katia Vladislavovna, b. 1972, Moscow, Russian, painter Sukhorukova, Elena Vladislavovna, b. 1962, Moscow, Russian, mathematician. Kazarian, Tatiana, b. 196-, Protvino (Moscow province), Armenian, housewife. Vikhornov, Vitalii, b. 1941 Omsk, Russian, fmancistleconomist Serebriannyi, Sergei Dmitreevich, b. 1946 Moscow, Russian, philologistiOrientalist Boikova, Elena Vladimirovna, b. 1977, in Yakutia, Russian, salesperson. Kim, Viktoria Borisovna, b. 1976, Tara (Kazakhstan), KazakhlKorean, economist.
331
Krivonosov, Iurii Mikhailovich, b. 1926 Moscow, Russian, journalist/philologist/photographer Genelitsa, Elena Pavlovna, b. 1949 Omsk, Russian, pedagogue Sergeeva, Natalia Finogenovna, b. 1962, Moscow province, Russian, salesperson. Guliamamadova, Davlatbekim, b. 1947 Shashin province, Tajikistan, Tajik, pediatrician. Eglit, Lev Nikolaevich, b. 1938 Ekaterinburg, LatvianlRussian, film professional Bulycbeva, Elena Ivanovna, b. 1948 Konakovo (Tverskaia province), Russian, art scholar/costume designer Beniukb, Natal'ia, b. 1945 Moscow, Russian, translator/consultant Gon'!, Josefina, b. 1923 Spain, SpanisblRussian, historian/philologist Akopian, Karen, b. 1948 Tbilisi, Armenian, violinist Lasbkarbekov, Baksho, b. 1948 Pamir region, Tajik, philologist Kotrlkadze, Nonna, b. 1964 Tbilisi, Georgian, journalist-editor Bondarev, Vladimir Ivanovich, b. 1934 Leningrad, Russian, engineer/systems analyst Cbernobel'skaia, Bella Mikhailovna, b. 1940 Odessa, Russian, engineer Kleimenova, Galina Fedorovna, b. 1939 Moscow, Russian, engineer
332
'fable V. 1 Gender Male
Respondents Interviewees
7 18
Female
26 35
Demographic Profile oHnterviewees and Respondents, at a glance Year of birth
Before
1960
1960
and later
33 39
Ethnicit Russia n
Occupation
NonRussia n
Unknow n
Professional
27 46
-
23
8
2
14
38
15
-
Nonprofessional
5 7
Unknown
1
333 Bibliography This bibliography is divided into sections based on the type of publication or source used. There are six sections: ArchiveslLibraries, Books/Articles in Books, Journals and Popular Magazines, Newspapers, Internet Resources and Documentary Films.
Archives/Specialist Libraries in Moscow Rossiisskii Gosudarstvennyi Arkhiv Literatury i Iskusstva (RGALI) (Russian State Archive of Literature and Art). Rossiisskii Gosudarstvennyi Arkhiv Noveishchei istorii (RGANI) (Russian State Archive of Contemporary history). Gosudarstvennyi Arkhiv Rossiisskoi Federatsii (GARF) (State Archive of the Russian Federation). Arkhiv Goskino (Archive of Goskino) Arkhiv Soveksportjil'm (Archive of Soveksportfil'm) Vsegosudarstvennyi Institut Kinomatografii (VGIK) (National Institute of Cinematography) Nauchnyi Issledovatel 'skyi Institut Kinoisskusstva (VNIIKlNIIK) (Institute for Scientific Research in Film Art) Institut nauchnoi informatsii po obshchestvennym naukam (INION) (Institute for Scientific Information in the Social Sciences) Rosinformkino (Film Information Agency) Kinotsentr (Film Centre)
Books/ Articles in Books
Abbas, K.A. I am not an Island: An Experiment in Autobiography. New Delhi: Vikas Publishing, 1977. Afasizheva, E. V., M. Kotel'nikov, G.M. Lifshits and LA. Rachuk. Kinoauditoriia i fil'm. Sotsiologicheskie problemy kino. Sbornik nauchnykh trudov. Moscow: VNIIK, 1982. Alvesson, Mats. Postmodernism and Social Research. Philadelphia: Open University Press, 2002.
Ang, len. Watching 'Dallas ': Soap Opera and the Melodramatic Imagination. London: Methuen, 1985. Appadurai, Arjun. "Global Ethnoscapes: notes and queries for a transnational anthropology." In Recapturing Anthropology: working in the present, edited by Richard Fox, 191-210. Santa Fe, Cal.: SAR Press, 1991. Appadurai, Aljun. Modernity at large. Cultural Dimensions of Globalization. Public Worlds. Volume 1. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2000.
334
Amheim, Rudolf. Film Essays and Criticism. Translated by Brenda Benthien. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1997. Barnouw, Eric and Krishnaswamy, S. Indian Film. New York: Oxford University Press, 1980. Barker, Adele Marie, ed. Consuming Russia. Popular Culture, Sex, and Society since Gorbachev. Durham: Duke University Press, 1999. Be1etskii, A. "~b odnoi iz ocherednykh zadach istoriko-literaturnoi nauki (izuchenie istorii chitatelia)," Nauka na Ukraine (Khar'kov) 2 (1922): 97. Quoted in Evgenii Dobrenko, The Making of the State Reader. Social and Aesthetic Contexts of the Reception of Soviet literature, translated by Jesse M. Savage (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997),8-9. Benjamin, Walter. "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction." In flluminations, edited by Hannah Arendt, 217-251. New York: Schocken Books, 1969. Bennett, Tony and Janet Woollacott. Bond and Beyond. The political career of a popular hero. London: Macmillan Limited, 1987. Brashinsky, Michael and Andrew Horton. Russian critics on the cinema ofglasnost. ' New York: Cambridge University Press, 1994. Braudy, Leo and Marshall Cohen, eds~ Film Theory and Criticism. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999. Brown, Deming. The Last Years ofSoviet Russian Literature. Prose Fiction 19751991. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Budiak, L.M, E.S. Gromov, V.M. Murian, R.P. Sobo1ev and LA. Zvegintseva, eds. Kino Indii (Indian Cinema). Moscow: Iskusstvo, 1988. _ . "Indiiskii kinematograf' film i zritel'." In Kino stran Azii i Afriki, edited by L. Budiak, 13-50. Moscow: Znanie narodnyi universitet, 1983.
Chakravarty, Sumita. National Ideology in Indian Popular Cinema, 1947-87. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1993. Chartier, Roger. Cultural History. Between Practices and Representation. Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 1988. Clark, Katerina. The Soviet Novel as Ritual. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2000. Cohen, L.H. The Cultural-Political Traditions and Developments of the Soviet Cinema 1917-1972. New York: Amo Press, 1974.
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Communications. London: Arnold Publishers, 1996. Das Gupta, Chidananda. "Fonn and Content." In Frames ofMind, edited by Aruna Vasudev, 103-116. Delhi: UBS Publishers' Distributors Ltd., 1995. Devine, Fiona and Sue Heath. Sociological Research methods in Context. London: Macmillan Press, 1999. Dickey, Sara. Cinema and the Urban Poor in South India. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Dirks, Nicholas B, GeoffEley and Sherry B. Ortner, eds. CulturelPowerlHistory. A Reader in Contemporary Social Theory. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994. Dissanayake, Wimal. "The concepts of evil and social order in Indian melodrama: An evolving dialectic." In Melodrama and Asian Cinema, edited by Wimal Dissanayake, 189204. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Doane, Mary Ann. The Desire to Desire: The Woman's Film of the 1940s. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987. Dobrenko, Evgenii. The Making ofthe State Reader. Social and Aesthetic Contexts of the Reception ofSoviet Literature. Translated by Jesse M. Savage. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997. Donaldson, Robert H. Soviet Policy toward India: Ideology and Strategy. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1974. Drieberg, Trevor, Hatji Malik and D.K. Joshi. Towards Closer Indo-Soviet
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_
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Internet Resources on Indian cinema filmfare.indiatimes.com www.upperstall.com
Documentary films Fedorchenko, V, rur. Skazochnyi mir indiiskogo kino. Moscow: Kinovideostudiia Sovremennik,1994. Bochareva, Tamara et aI. Bollivud - fabrika grez. Moscow: Telekanal ORT, 2001.
SUDHA RAJAGOPALAN
Educational Background 1995-2005 Indiana University M.AlPhD in Russian/Soviet history
Bloomington, Indiana, U.S.A
1993-1995 M.A in Russian area studies
Indiana University
Bloomington, Indiana, U.S.A
1990-1992 M.A in History
University of Bombay
Bombay, India
Professional experience
2002
Rijkmuseum voor Volkenkunde
Leiden, Netherlands
Editorial assistant for project on art in Oceania.
2000-2001 Rijksmuseum voor Volkenkunde Leiden, Netherlands Research assistant and author of digital publications on the Indonesian and Siberian collections at the museum. 1997-1999 Indiana University Bloomington, Indiana, U.S.A Assistant Instructor in World History in the Department of History. 1996-1997 International Institute for Social History Amsterdam, Netherlands Independent researcher.