BENGALURU : If there is anything I miss about life as it were earlier, it is my routine on Fridays. As a film critic, Fridays held a special place in my life. It was the only day of the week when I woke up early, collected my notes, put my phone on charge, and reached the movie halls early to watch the film. Taking notes frantically, I would then rush home and discuss the movie with my team, and proceed to present my analysis on video.
While most people around me spend Friday nights partying, I would be ensuring that my video got uploaded without any glitches. I would then spend the next few hours replying to comments on the video and trying to explain the reasons behind my review.These moments seem like a lifetime ago. Fridays today are no different from Mondays or Tuesdays. I have been so entrenched in the experience of dissecting a film that when I watch a film for pleasure these days, my hands automatically reach for a piece of paper to jot down notes.
There are reports that movie theatres and malls would be the last to open once the lockdown has ended. Even then, the experience of movie-watching will never be the same again. It is hard to imagine hordes of fans waiting to buy a ticket, or storming its gates when opened. Fans outside a hall shouting slogans for their favourite star also seems like a thing of the past. What then, will be the future of the movie-watching experience?
Adhering to social distancing norms, movie theatres will reduce the number of seats in a hall. This could adversely affect young couples who visit cinemas to enjoy an audio-visual-sensory experience. In place of expensive coffee and popcorn, stalls will sell flavoured sanitisers. Whistling when the hero enters a scene will be frowned upon, for the risk of passing droplets on to the row of people sitting in front of you. Security personnel will check your ticket, your mask, and your temperature before letting you in.
In place of the 2-minute warnings against smoking, there will be 15-minute segments warning viewers against mingling with each other. In place of Mukesh, we’ll have Modi explaining the importance of social distancing. In fact, I suspect filmmakers will eventually weave in the initial flashback sequence into a health warning. While films were approved by the censor board, they will now have to be approved by the health ministry as well. When lovers kiss, warnings will say ‘Stunts were performed by experts under guidance. Please do not try these at home’.
The concept of meeting a stranger – a trope used in romantic films – will vanish from our stories. Movie villains, who usually hid their faces and beat up people, will no more exist. Instead, the villain will be one who doesn’t wear a mask, and coughs without covering his face. The hero dancing in front of hundreds of background dancers will no more be the norm. Songs will feature the hero and heroine maintaining a safe distance from each other, thereby winning the approval of parents and elders in Indian society.
More than anything else, the bar to go watch a movie in halls will rise stupendously. People will stop going to theatres to ‘escape’ from the dullness of everyday life. Instead, the decision of going to a movie hall will be one of risk and threat. Filmmakers will finally have to churn out stories that mean something. ‘Masala’ films will give way to ‘Sanitiser’ films.