A good year in the movies can mean multiple things. Studios sufficiently bankrolling films, independent projects finding their way to the mainstream, underdogs triumphing over tentpole projects, new faces coming up and old faces rediscovering their voice. In that sense, 2024 fulfilled most of these possibilities. Filmmaker Sriram Raghavan, known for curating gore in his films, conjured a heartbreaking romance in Merry Christmas. Three female actors fronted the commercially viable Crew, a modest-budgeted Munjya won big, Payal Kapadia’s independently-funded All We Imagine As Light got a theatrical release and ensembles like Madgaon Express, Stree 2, and Bhool Bhulaiyaa 3 were triumphs. On paper, we are steadying ahead. But a little probing dismantles this neat narrative.
There can, and should, be different ways of looking at something. But no matter how one sees it, 2024 reveals to be uninspiring for Hindi films. Quantity is no longer the problem. Admittedly, there was a lull during the Covid-19 crisis, but some time has passed and as of now, a steady roster of theatrical and streaming releases is in place. Theatre owners and exhibitors also came up with a ploy to combat infrequent releases: re-releasing old Hindi films. Yet, the quality has been on a steady decline.
The Era Of ‘Genericness’
As of now, the landscape of Hindi films resembles a linear line drawn by a vanishing ink. The multi-crore industry has come to be imbued by such genericness in plot and aesthetics that is hard to locate its identity. In other words, no matter how long the line is—and how expansive the industry is becoming—the growth feels incidental, for the ambition is stunted.
It could have been the post-pandemic uncertainty, the easy availability of other Indian language films through streaming sites during that period, or the gigantic successes of those ventures. In 2022, S.S. Rajamouli’s RRR registered the highest opening by an Indian film; this year, another Telugu language film, Sukumar’s Pushpa 2, became the highest-grossing Indian film in the first week. But evidently, the monopoly of Hindi films and its false equivalence with Indian cinema have considerably weakened. The diversity of the industry has been steamrolled into a prickly homogeneity where any two films look the same, the scale feels identical, the action looks uniformly designed and the style is fashioned in self-reflexive humour.
As is often the case, Shah Rukh Khan paved the way. His 2023 film Pathaan not just marked his return to the screen after a four-year hiatus but was one of the few outings that earned money at a time many others struggled to do so. Its success did three things: it reiterated the supremacy of Khan, legitimised action as a thriving genre, and recognised star cameos in films as the onset of multiverses.
Spectacle Over Everything Else
This year, most Hindi films can be slotted in these distinct categories. Rohit Shetty’s Singham Again was his version of a (cop) multiverse, and the production house Maddock Films furthered its horror-comedy universe with Stree 2 and Munjya. Sagar Ambre and Pushkar Ojha helmed the action-thriller Yodha, Siddharth Anand directed the aviation (action) thriller Fighter and Ali Abbas Zafar made the abysmal Bade Miyan Chote Miyan (BMCM). There are more examples: Nikkhil Advani leaned on action with Vedaa, Ravi Udyawar did the same with Yudhra and so did Aditya Datt in Crakk. Clubbing them together could be reductive, but it is difficult not to identify the sweeping attempt by the makers to treat plot as an accessory to action.
In the midst, meta references clog the screenplay. Khan’s famous “Bete ko hath lagane se pehle, baap se baat kar” (“Before touching the son, deal with the father”), rooted to the personal turmoil of his son’s arrest in 2021, spawned similar iterations post Jawan (2023). Tiger Shroff repeated his meme-famous “choti bachi ho kya?” (“are you a little girl”) a decade later in BMCM after mouthing them for the first time in Heropanti (2014); Chitrangada Singh briefly appeared in Akshay Kumar’s Khel Khel Mein (2024) and their scenes were scored to the music of Desi Boyz (2011), the last film they did together. The subtext here is actors winking directly at the audience and establishing a connection despite the fourth wall. But Hindi films have never seemed more distant.
Stuck On Repeat
If 2024 proved anything, it is that what works really does, and when it does, it is repeated. The success of Stree 2 and Bhool Bhulaiyaa 3 furthered the accomplishment of sequels, and now, there are multiple in the works. The Ranbir Kapoor-starrer Animal (2023) ended with the announcement of Animal Park, which is supposed to go on floors in 2027. Varun Dhawan is part of No Entry 2, Border 2 and reportedly a sequel to Jugjugg Jeeyo too. Vikas Bahl’s Shaitaan, which minted money this year, has a sequel in the making, and in October, actor Salman Khan and producer Sajid Nadiadwala confirmed working on Kick 2 with a cheeky Instagram post. Meanwhile, Shah Rukh Khan is rumoured to be featuring in Pathaan 2.
Every actor, it appears, is either working in a sequel or wants to be in one. It is a jarring trend that spells a creative crisis in Hindi cinema with a damning pronouncement. As of this moment, filmmakers are more involved in catering to the audience than creating for them. Budgets are being amped up, more investment is tailored for VFX and Hindi films are getting bigger. Yet, one would be hard-pressed to distinguish between the trailers of, say, Baby John and Animal. It is the same story everywhere: overgrown men fighting with an obscure vengeance to prove their manhood rather than seek justice.
Bankruptcy Of Imagination
Perhaps this crystallises the most terrifying symptom of Hindi cinema today where the bankruptcy of imagination has manifested in accentuating machismo. More and more films centre around men who need an excuse to draw out blood from the next person. The face does not matter, nor does the cause. While they thumped about the screens, smaller and more inventive projects, such as Sanjay Tripaathy’s warm Binny And Family, Karan Gour’s whimsical Fairy Folk, Shoojit Sircar’s affecting I Want to Talk battled for more screens and our attention. Even Kiran Rao’s wonderful Laapataa Ladies and Varun Grover’s perceptive All India Rank garnered appreciation once they landed on digital platforms. Once upon a time, they would have been referred to as multiplex films. Today, they are too ambitious for streaming and too atypical for theatres. They reside in a no man’s land, and in their dislocation, they mirror the gradual distortion of Hindi cinema.
(Ishita Sengupta is an independent film critic and culture writer from India. Her writing is informed by gender and pop culture and has appeared in The Indian Express, Hyperallergic, New Lines Magazine, etc.)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author
