Readers Write In #759: Romance and Revival

By Aman Basha

Some commentary on re releases and what they tell us

If the year 2024 had an award for a category titled “Filmmaker of the Year”, the winner would resoundingly be Imtiaz Ali. Ali, who had been written off as being behind his best days for the last 6 years, made an imperceptible and resounding comeback with Amar Singh Chamkila, a film about a rockstar that was nothing like “Rockstar”.

It also confirmed to my mind that Ali deserves to be spoken in the same breath as Mani Ratnam, if only for his sheer command over film grammar. In Chamkila, Ali mixes animation, real life and comes up with a mind blowing shot of a vinyl transforming into a UFO and beaming music down houses. 

At the same time as Ali was resurrecting the legacy of Amar Singh Chamkila, time and the great gen Z was hosting a retrospective for Ali, who had 3 older films of his release again in theatres this year. Jab We Met still drew couples, a good 17 valentines since it released, earning a solid, but small amount in a limited run. 

Just like Ali’s craft, the audience went crazy for the later released Rockstar. Its run was a throwback to an older time when movies would run for months and week 5 would have the highest collection. The re-release amazingly trended better than the original release. 

As astounding as the success of Rockstar was, it was an acclaimed success even at the time of release and bolstered both an extraordinary Rahman album as well as an epochal performance by Ranbir Kapoor, who was at his animal peak just recently. How much of these films’ re-release success had to do with Ali himself was debatable.

It was thus the third Imtiaz Ali theatrical release of the year that was the true cinematic miracle.

Laila Majnu had a small, rather intimate re release in the lovely Kashmir where it was shot, 6 years ago. 

Kashmir led the way as the rest of India demanded to watch it too, and a film that flopped on its initial release, amazingly had double the footfalls of its first release in its first weekend, a film that wrapped under 3 crore in 2018 grossed over 11 crore in 2024, this when you could easily watch it online. 

Laila Majnu was not the only 2018 flop to become a 2024 blockbuster, there is also Tummbad, but for the sake of my thesis, I choose to treat that exceptional film as just that, an exception.

Inspired by the general success of re-releases and an audience that seemed game for nostalgia in the theatres, Rakesh Roshan chose to bring back Karan Arjun, “re-incarnating” the film in theatres for younger audiences, in his own words. This re-release was wide, well promoted and announced well in advance. 

When Karan Arjun released, it was the second choice in the Hindi recent releases. This would be normal for any re-release, but what was eyebrow raising was the first spot was occupied by another re-release, Shah Rukh Khan’s Kal Ho Naa Ho, which was outgrossing Karan Arjun, in the second week of its more limited release.

Normal logic would consider Karan Arjun, a very well made masala movie that featured two of the greatest stars and the greatest villain of its time, with a well promoted re release would do well, just on the sheer strength of the fandom these stars command. But it seems, unlike the South, re releases in Hindi are yet to become the latest front of the perennial dick measuring fan wars. 

SRK fans were having the last laugh. Karan Arjun not getting the same traction as Kal Ho Naa Ho finally put Saif Ali Khan ahead of their bete noire Bhaijaan. If this itself was surprising, a bigger shock was abroad, where a re release of Veer Zaara did more than the Diwali tentpoles Singham and Bhool Bhulaiyya in Germany. 

Beyond the gratification of seeing your favorite stars and favorite films once more, these re releaes were ideological validation too. I hope the fact that Veer Zaara did double Gadar’s numbers in re release, when Gadar was well promoted or that Kal Ho Naa Ho did more than Pushpa’s release, puts to rest this absurd myth that Hindi cinema should go back to the villages and stop “metrosexual cinema”.

I seriously wonder what these commentators think the Ayushmann Khurrana, Akshay Kumar movies that were regular blockbusters were all about, if not small towns and cities? 

The simple fact is none of the other Indian film industries have the same level of penetration from OTTs, which are not just drawing away viewership but stealing away talent like Raj and DK or Rahi Anil Bharve, who exclusively make OTT originals these days. These OTTs have made those AK cinema stories into web series like Panchayat, leaving the viewer little motivation to see anything same in the theatre. 

If we were to examine these re-releases, we would find one common thread connecting them all and the answer to what bothers Hindi cinema today: good music.

Hindi cinema was all about great music. Even the most unconventional movie would open superbly on the back of a chartbuster, and today the monopolization of music by T Series has made it rare for the big ticket movies to have a hit song. I would go on to say Stree 2 did the business it did, on the back of an unusually strong album by a recently resurgent Sachin Jigar.

There is the more controversial case to be made, but one which is well backed by these re releases, and it is that Hindi cinema needs to go back to romance. Right from Raj Kapoor, whose films, with the Tramp and the social commentary, were at their core, romances, Hindi cinema has always been more attuned to the romantic sensibility and to the taste of the women.

Even Amitabh Bachchan’s Angry Young Man, as macho as he was, was never a misogynist, sharing space and romance with some strong, memorable women like Parveen Babi’s Anita. Female desire and empowerment have been a big part of Bollywood, with even 2024 featuring rare women-led films like Crew or Laapata Ladies becoming big hits.

The romances have always been about women in a more prominent manner, and women have turned out, higher than usual, in patronizing these re released romances. 

What is even more interesting is that the romances that have worked are cathartic romances, not your fun and fluffy rom coms, but romances filled with tears and tragedy. I remember an anecdote from a Rockstar screening, where a teen viewer was muttering annoyance at the frustrating pace of the opening portions to only come out with a muted clap at the end. 

There is a subconscious audience desire for these cathartic narratives, even if they express discomfort adjusting to its narrative at the beginning at that teen viewer did, and they will have their fill even with a 20 year old film like Kal Ho Naa Ho and Veer Zaara.

To bring back this kind of film is easier said than done. Thanks to this re-release, I went back on that glorified ego trip that is KHNH for me (what can I say, Aman is the greatest. Mathur I mean.), and was amazed how a 3 hour film seemed to zip by in pace, while managing so many shifts of mood, a comic stretch of “6 din ladki in” is succeeded immediately by the ruminations of a dying man, a boisterous wedding celebration is followed by a devastating hug near a bridge. 

Much of it is carried by its leading man, at the peak of his looks and loverboy charm, who plays a character who is simultaneously a gravely mortal man desperately deflecting from death and a charming angel who magically overhears people’s pain and sprinkles joy all over.

The film is not too dissimilar to its leading character, who spends the last days of his life scaring an old woman with the prospect of homosexuality. For such a star-heavy film, it’s amazing how even minor characters have well rounded arcs, like Kantaben’s journey from homophobe to dancing along a gay Frenchman.  

It also made me wonder if the success of these re-releases had to do with how “politically correct” they are. Ali, with his messy hair, has been woke since his debut, but KHNH had KJo come over his more nasty tendencies even if with a movie he deeply regrets not directing.

Sweetu is fat shamed, but only by people themselves bitter, and ends up with the charming DJ Frankie. The hyper patriotism of K3G is replaced by a massive American flag, and the Indian identity is only a cultural heritage, a positioning that goes down easier with Indian originers across the world today. 

Yes, the latter portions where everyone overdoses on glycerine, specially the wedding scenes are a bit too much, and yes, the court portions of Veer Zaara are too dull to give a damn, but the theme of sacrifice, of lovers giving up 20 years in wait of each other or a dying man wanting to see the woman he loves happily married, resounds all the more in a environment where romance is transient with the right swipe on an app. It is not just the dearth of romance on screen, but in real life too that makes films like these or the recent Sita Ramam and Hi Nanna seem all the more special.

This “death of romance” has led to the surprising re-appreciation of Shah Rukh Khan’s romantic oeuvre. Just check the Netflix stats for Indian films and one will be shocked at how frequently these movies are watched online, if the affirmation of the ticket sales for Veer Zaara and Kal Ho Naa Ho weren’t enough. Once, a very talented film writer named Umair Muhajir contended that Shah Rukh Khan would be forgotten like Rajendra Kumar, his films would have no shelf life and the cultural impact was overstated. Let me not make such sweeping, overblown declarations and say, with humility, boy, was he wrong.

The audience watching these re-releases today are a bit like Preity Zinta on the bench in Kal Ho Naa Ho. Naina was not a fan of Aman at the start, annoyed with his garrulousness, inappropriate interjections, sentiments and sense of humour. She could appreciate the great music Aman brought everywhere he went, but that was it. But with the Bollywood romance gone, the mush and music is missed all the more. As Federer was once told, Absence does make the heart grow fonder.