“We keep measuring a banyan tree with a ruler made for bonsais.” — Anurag Kashyap, Cannes 2016
Somewhere between the buzz of red carpets and the echo of standing ovations abroad, Indian cinema has begun to question the mirror it holds up to itself. Why must Indian films be validated by Western festivals, Western critics, and Western metrics of cinematic excellence? Can a billion-viewer industry with regional heartbeats and century-old storytelling traditions continue to borrow aesthetic scales from alien cultures?
Perhaps, as the tide of cinematic identity swells, it’s time for a new chapter: one in which India builds its own standard of appreciation — unapologetic, ambitious, and aligned with its creative DNA.
For decades, Indian filmmakers have spoken in two tongues: one for home, one for abroad. Films made with Cannes or Venice in mind often bear minimal resemblance to blockbusters that light up screens in Patna or Pune. The split isn’t just stylistic — it reflects a deep-seated anxiety about artistic legitimacy.
“You can’t ignore that Indian cinema, especially in Hindi and Tamil, developed its own syntax — song, emotion, melodrama, color. Why should we explain that away to be ‘serious’?” asks filmmaker Zoya Akhtar.
India’s cinematic institutions have long favored the Western yardstick. National Awards, film school syllabi, and critical columns often draw heavily on European auteur theory, Hollywood screenplay structures, or The Criterion Collection’s aesthetic biases. But this approach neglects a simple truth: India has been making wildly successful, deeply local, technically advanced films since the silent era.
In 2023 alone, Indian films sold over 1.5 billion tickets domestically — more than any other country. While blockbusters like Jawan and RRR drew massive crowds, films like Kaathal – The Core or Chhello Show impressed international critics.
But here’s the catch: festival praise rarely matches domestic resonance.
“When Gully Boy went to Berlin, some people said it wasn’t ‘Indian enough’ — too slick, too urban. But that film gave voice to an entire generation,” says rapper and co-writer DIVINE. “Who decides what’s Indian, anyway?”
The numbers are staggering: according to a FICCI-EY report, the Indian film industry is poised to cross ₹30,000 crore by 2025. OTT platforms have further amplified regional cinema. Malayalam thrillers, Marathi social dramas, and Telugu epics are now watched with subtitles across the country.
Still, these films are often judged by foreign critical scales — pacing, subtlety, structure — that don’t account for emotional plurality or narrative density.
If India were to define its own appreciation matrix — not to reject global cinema, but to contextualize its own — what should it include?
- Rasa Theory Revival: Ancient Sanskrit poetics outlined nine rasas or emotional flavors that shape audience response. Modern criticism could integrate this to evaluate how a film balances mood — from the heroic (vira) to the romantic (shringara) and horrific (bhayanaka).
- Cultural Authencity Index: Films could be celebrated for how they incorporate linguistic, architectural, culinary, and sartorial identities authentically — not as tourism ads but as narrative tools.
- Narrative Intensity Coefficient: Indian cinema often contains layered subplots, musical digressions, and tonal shifts. Instead of calling it “uneven,” a new index could track how skillfully a filmmaker orchestrates this intensity.
- Intergenerational Connect: Bollywood, Kollywood, and beyond have traditionally bridged age and class — grandma, millennial, and child watching together. A film’s ability to transcend demographics could be a metric in itself.
- Mythic Resonance: From Baahubali to Raavan, Indian films often modernize epics. Celebrating how myth is reinterpreted can create a critical language rooted in cultural memory.
It’s not just critics — industry veterans are weighing in.
“Why do we keep seeking validation from the Oscars?” asked veteran actor Naseeruddin Shah in a 2022 interview. “We have Satyajit Ray, Ritwik Ghatak, Adoor. We should be creating our own Pantheon — not waiting to be invited to someone else’s.”
Filmmaker SS Rajamouli, after RRR’s roaring global success, noted:
“I didn’t make RRR for the West. I made it for the child in me who loves stories of rebellion. But they responded because truth and emotion speak louder than style.”
Indeed, RRR went on to win a Golden Globe and an Oscar for Best Original Song — but only after it conquered Indian hearts. That reversal is telling.
Recent data from Ormax and BookMyShow show growing demand for diverse regional cinema — but also for cultural depth. Hindi film viewership has dipped slightly while Tamil, Telugu, and Malayalam films have increased their pan-India footprint.
Interestingly, younger urban audiences report greater attachment to movies that reflect Indian realities rather than Western aspirations — be it the migrant grit of Pather Panchali or the queerness of Sheer Qorma.
Streaming algorithms and TikTok montages now amplify hyperlocal moments to global virality — from a Bhojpuri wedding song in Toronto to a Malayalam one-shot dance scene trending in Tokyo.
“India doesn’t need to flatten its voice for the world,” says YouTuber and film critic Sucharita Tyagi. “It needs to amplify its voices for itself first. The world will tune in.”
If India were to formalize such a critical framework, where might it begin?
- Indigenous Film Awards: Parallel to the National Awards, a jury of diverse regional experts, dramatists, folklorists, and even anthropologists could evaluate films through Indian lenses.
- Curriculum Overhaul: FTII, SRFTI, and film studies departments could introduce syllabus modules on Rasa, regional folk drama structures, and oral storytelling traditions.
- Criticism Ecosystem: Invest in regional language film criticism. Hindi, Tamil, Bengali, and Malayalam newspapers once had robust columns — reviving that dialogue would deepen cultural literacy.
- Government and OTT Policy: Incentivize authentic storytelling and aesthetic experimentation rooted in Indian traditions via grants or streaming deals.
India is home to more than 20 film industries, each with its own grammar, visual culture, and emotional cadence. Yet all too often, we apologize for masala. We downplay song-and-dance. We cut for brevity when emotion demands indulgence.
But cinema isn’t just storytelling. It’s rhythm, memory, community, politics, prayer. And in India, it’s also family, festival, and future.
“Our cinema is maximalist because our lives are,” actor Vijay Sethupathi said on a podcast recently. “Don’t shrink the screen. Expand the lens.”
The future of Indian cinema may not lie in mimicking world cinema — but in showing the world how India sees itself. With its own metrics. On its own terms. As auteur and activist Anand Patwardhan once said:
“True independence begins when you write your own story — not just your history, but your reviews.”
Maybe it’s time to stop chasing stars on a foreign walk of fame — and start carving our own.
