DEBATE
IMMEDIATELY after India attained Independence on August 15, 1947, the whole scenario of filmmaking changed. Before partition, there was actually no such thing as censorship as we understand it today. It was indeed a mere formality and the producers made pictures without fear of censorship. Films were made in an atmosphere of absolute freedom, which resulted in a better quality of pictures. It is really ironical that when we — the Indian government — took over from the British, we suddenly decided to target filmmaking and punish producers for entertaining people. Just as they decided to punish the Indian producers by imposing entertainment tax, they also took entertainment to task, by bringing it under the axe of censorship. Why this sudden decision? There was no problem during the British Raj. The producers made pictures without any fear of the scissors, and both the government and the people seemed to like the films as a whole, and did not think of any restrictions of censorship. What really happened, to bring in this additional factor to cripple the freedom of filmmaking. It appears they did not see films entertaining people when they were in jails, because the moment they came to power, they decided to become moral pundits. They thought (and this is my surmise) that entertainment was immoral and those who were making films were morally corrupt, and, in the new order, they should be brought within the orbit of religious morality. All of a sudden, without any provocation, the scenario changed from a natural, harmless-looking atmosphere to a puritanical approach, which developed itself into a strange idiosyncrasy. Producers and censors faced each other as enemies. As one, who had seen practically all the films before partition, being a film journalist, I was distressed to find a sudden change in the way the films were judged. There was no such problem during the British days. In fact, the word censorship made its first odious appearance after we became independent. Non-interference during the foreign rule helped promote and create an atmosphere that was congenial to artistic expression. From pure entertainment, attaining a high quality of pictures was a natural step. In fact, it led to the sublimation of the industry and in this free atmosphere, genius prospered and led to a vast variety of meaningful and excitingly novel creations. Let us take a look at the achievements of pre-partition India in the field of filmmaking without the rigours of censorship: Prabhat Studio (V Shantaram, Fatelal, Damle) New Theatres (PC Barua, Debaki Bose, Nitin Bose and Bimal Roy), Himansu Rai’s Bombay Talkies (Franz Osten, S Mukerji, Gyan Mukerji), Sagar Movietone, where Mehboob made sensitive films of human and social interest, Sarvottam Badami, the master of romantic comedies, Minerva Movietone, where Sohrab Modi made historical movies on the glory of India, Prakash Pictures, where Vijay Bhatt created the great mythologicals of Ramayan. Even the sensational stunt pictures of Wadia had their own following and mass popularity. Not to forget Chandulal Shah’s Ranjit Movietone, which produced many directors like Nandlal Jaswantlal and Chaturbhuj Joshi and a host of artistes and a line-up of good films. All in all, they dealt with a huge variety of subjects, emphasising the glorious past and the struggling present of Indian thought. But all this filmic progress was possible only due to the independence the producers enjoyed in making their films. That independence is denied to the film industry today. The governments of independent India brought with them a puritanical prejudice against the entertainment industry — don’t ask me why — perhaps during their struggle for freedom they developed an anti-film philosophy. I really do not know why films, which were the only means of entertainment for the Indian masses, were suddenly considered morally harmful for the nation. Our independent rulers became the sworn enemies of the film industry (for no fault of ours as history and the clean record of pre-partition films would vouch) and decided to use their newly-attained political powers by weilding the moral axe on pictures of the post-Independence era. Dr BV Keskar, the then I&B minister, if you remember, decided to ban film songs on All India Radio. It denied people their pleasure of listening to the radio, but in the process, helped the Ceylon radio to make Indian songs popular in India, the same songs which were banned in our country. Left to him, Dr Keskar would perhaps have banned all films if it had not been for the loss of revenue from cinemas. I am really amazed how our beloved prime minister, Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, allowed such a retrogressive attitude in his government and permitted his ministers to ride rough shod over the aspirations of the film industry. This very negative psychology ushered in strict censorship, which has, in subsequent years, become confused in its approach and application. I remember my first brush with censorship. When I made my first film, Afsana, I found myself in a serious predicament when I learnt that there was an administrative restriction on the length of a film — it could not exceed 11000 feet as per the government’s mandate. As censorship was then a provincial subject, I decided to approach the chief minister of Bombay, Morarji Desai. I was warned that he was even more puritanical than others, and may not prove helpful, but for me, he was the last resort. With the help of Rafiq Zakaria, I was able to meet Morarji Desai. He listened to my plea and asked me to show him the film. The picture was screened at the Eros Minuet. He seemed to like the movie. But he felt that if he allowed a relaxation in my case, he would have to do so for Vasan, too, whose picture was in a similar predicament. I really did not understand the logic of seeing the film, when he had already taken a decision on Vasan’s film. Luckily for us, Vasan went to court and won the case. The restriction on length was found arbitrary and was removed to the relief of the industry. This incident is being cited only to show the unbending attitude of people in authority towards censorship of films. After Vasan won the case, provincial censorship gave way to central censorship. My film Afsana got the first certificate from the Central Board. We all thought we would now get a fair deal, not undue interference. But, to our utter dismay, censorship soon became a great demon. The attitude became cruelly puritanical. The scene of a saree slipping from the shoulder of a girl was censored, which gives you an idea of the extremely stupid moral codes. A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then, and censorship may no longer be as dictatorially moralistic. But even now, we do not have a sense of freedom. Can’t we have a positive policy, which alone can help in the making of healthy films? I would like to give you an interesting incident concerning censorship before partition. In 1941 or thereabouts, a film called Sethi Murad in Punjabi (a corollary of Heer Ranjha) was released in Lahore without any problem of censorship. But within a few days of the release, some officers connected with censorship took objection to some jokes which they thought were vulgar. A very high-powered committee viewed the picture at Nishat, the theatre where the film was released. Sir Sikander Hyat Khan, the chief minister of Punjab personally came to see the picture. I remember receiving him at the gate, and welcoming him with his officers. (I was connected with the film as I was one of the directors of the production company and also its general manager). Sir Sikander Hyat’s son Shauket was my classmate. And the first remark of Sir Sikander Hyatji was “Are bhai, what is all this fuss about vulgar jokes?”. I did not have the courage to argue with him and took him and his officers to the balcony. At the end of the film, as the lights went on, I saw the reviewing committee in session. Sir Sikander Saheb motioned me to join them in the discussion, along with the producer. An open discussion followed and Sir Sikander asked his officers, “What exactly is the problem? At least I liked the film and did not really notice any vulgarity.” “Sir, the jokes were in bad taste,” came the reply. Why take jokes so seriously. A bit of vulgarity can always be excused. Jokes can enjoy latitude, particularly when the total impact of the picture is wholesome. I think we should not interfere with the small, lighter moments of a film which is otherwise a tragedy. As censor officers, we are required to see a film in its totality. In the end, would you remember the jokes in a romantic epic in Punjabi? A picture should not be seen with a view to criticise it. It has to be seen with a view to enjoy it. I would even excuse small lapses of morality if they do not disturb the otherwise wholesomeness of entertainment. I wish our Censors were able to develop this kind of psychology. I hope you will find it both interesting and revealing when I narrate to you the character of censorship during the pre-partition British rule. I am not sure about the date — I was in college in those days which means it must have been around 1936, but something of a volcanic event took place in the film industry. Zarina,a film featuring the box-office idols of those days, Zubeida and Jal Merchant, was released to the shock and horror of the audience. There was a liberal display of kisses in that movie — 86 kisses in all. Which means that the censors must not have objected to them at all. When I came out of the show, there was a violent agitation against the ‘immoral’ contents of the movie. And though there was no interference from the government, the people saw to it that it was withdrawn, because they found it vulgar. I didn’t see why. I did not mind it. To me, it was a new experience. What is more, the Indian artistes did display the art of good kissing. The moral of the story is that people can take decisions notwithstanding the censors. I have just come across a small para in the book called Lahore written by Pran Nevile. While writing about films of the 30s, he writes, “Strangely kissing scenes were freely permitted by the censors, whose main concern seemed to be to keep out films having political overtones and comments against the Raj.” There were more films with kissing scenes in those days. I particularly remember Anarkali produced by Imperial Movietone, in which the kiss between D Billimoria and Sulochana was an interesting highlight. Which only means that kissing was no taboo.
Why is it
now? Good films were made at the time, thanks to the positive approach of the British government, and its policy of non-interference in the industry. Left by ourselves, we can do better. Censorship is a negative slogan, atleast make it look positive. Independence is a boon to the people. Let the film industry also be given the benefits of Independence. |
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Censorship - Before and 
