The revised film-certification guidelines for the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC), announced on September 16, have brought the debate around artistic freedom back into focus. As the newly constituted board begins its term, actor-filmmaker and CBFC board member Pallavi Joshi tells us she does not see her role as one that would curb artistic expression.

“I am personally against any kind of restrictions on art and expression,” she shares, adding, “I do not, as an artist, as a performer, as a filmmaker, like to be told that I shouldn’t be doing this and I shouldn’t be doing that. And I have no intention of doing that while on the board.”

Joshi, however, acknowledges that any new framework can reveal gaps once it is put into practice. “Anytime any new law is put in place, as you go forward, you realise that there are loopholes in it and it needs to be amended in certain ways,” she says.

“You see a lot of changes happening over the course of time until the law becomes comfortable for everyone. And I think we hope to achieve that with the given guidelines. We hope to come to a place where art and expression is not curbed. At least I would like to reach there,” she elaborates.

The 57-year-old also believes art should challenge audiences rather than simply entertain them. “I think art is a medium which should disturb people. It is not just song and dance. It has to be romance also. It has to be biopics also. It has to be thought-provoking also. It has to give you a jolt sometimes. Sometimes it has to slap you awake from your slumber,” she says.

Joshi reiterates that artistic expression can take multiple forms. “Art can be defined in many forms and there should not be any restriction on any kind of expression of art,” she says, while adding that it is still too early to comment on how the revised guidelines will work in practice.

The new CBFC guidelines retain the 1991 framework, with additions on drug-related warnings and age-based markers. The newly constituted board has not yet held its first meeting, Joshi says, adding that its members are yet to discuss how they will approach the framework.

Actor Salman Khan did not mince words in the latest Weekend Ka Vaar episode of Bigg Boss 20, telecast on Saturday, to condemn online trolling and intrusive celebrity coverage. He called out body shaming and ageist comments targeting celebrities, while also questioning the paparazzi’s habit of photographing female actors from behind. Salman came down heavily on issues around social media etiquettes and celebrity coverage.

“Why do you troll somebody who gets pregnant? Pregnant hone ke baad everyone puts on weight. Jab woh picture mein wapas aa jayengi, woh fit ho jayengi. She wanted to spend time with her family,” he said.

Many fans believed Salman was referring to actor Katrina Kaif, who was body shamed on social media after a recent public appearance in Mumbai.

The actor addressed trolling over his age and appearance after photos from a Mumbai event went viral in July, with social media users commenting on his lean frame.

In a surprise move, the actor went bare-bodied in a segment during the episode, and thundered: “Budha ho gaya, of course 60 saal ka ho gaya hoon. You cannot be Maine Pyaar Kiya all the bloody time.”

He also touched upon the constant online commentary about his shaved head, revealing, “People say, ‘I have gone bald. This is the look for the film. And the real reason is that a friend of mine passed away.”

“Paparazzi hip shots lete hain, taangon ke shots lete hain, aur agar peeche se shot mil jaaye toh woh bhi lete hain. None of these heroines like it. Meri apni niece chal rahi hoti hai, toh peeche se uska shot le rahe hain aur caption daalte hain, ‘Pehchaano ye kaun hai?’ I am saying all this to girls, agar aisa ho toh ghoom ke ek chamat maaro aur bolo, ‘Apni maa-behen ka shot le lo.’ Disgusting people! What is this mentality?,” he ranted.

Katrina faced online trolling after she was photographed with her husband, actor Vicky Kaushal, at the Ambani family’s Ganpati celebrations in Mumbai recently.

The appearance came months after the couple’s son, Vihaan, was born in November last year. Many social media handles inappropriately turned their attention to changes in Katrina’s physical appearance and postpartum weight.

Salman’s brother, actor Sohail Khan, was recently trolled over his physical transformation, while actor Varun Dhawan was also trolled over his signature smile around the release of Border 2.

Defending the actors, Salman said, “Ek samajh mein aata hai ke you lost weight or put on weight, but mazak udana Sohail ke upar, Varun ke upar, har ek ke upar. Pehle aap apna shakal dekh lo, apna jism dekh lo, uske baad karna yeh. Apne ma baap ko dekh lo pehle, unki sehat dekh lo, phir baat karna.”

An early morning shoot later, you’d think that Alia Bhatt would call it a day. But even if the actor in her is tired, the producer in her knows that work doesn’t stop. Bhatt recently completed a morning shoot of Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Love & War, and reported straight to the set of her upcoming production, Don’t Be Shy, squeezing in a five-hour filming of the song, Re Bawri.

Choreographer Vijay Ganguly revealed that both Bhatt and director Sreeti Mukerji were certain from the start that the campus caper needed a music video.

“Though it was to be picturized on the four leads earlier, eventually we wanted Alia to feature in it too as she is a fabulous dancer. But the dates were not working out. Suddenly one day, Alia gave us a date, and we had only four hours of her time as she was doing many things back-to-back,” Ganguly told mid-day.

The uptempo number was shot in early September at Chitrarth Studio in Powai. For Bhatt, featuring in Re Bawri was a strategic decision — she knew her presence would grab eyeballs, and in turn, bring attention to the four newcomers. “Alia wanted to promote the kids as much as she could. She did not have time to even rehearse for Re Bawri. She came on set after an early morning shoot and did what she had to do in five hours. She learned the hook step in five minutes,” recalled Ganguly.

He is impressed not only by her dancing skills, but also by her dedication as a producer. “Alia is a hands-on producer. She called me to say she is making a film on a small budget, and wanted me to choreograph this song.”

Growing up in Mumbai, Ganpati has always been an integral part of Aamna Sharif’s experience of the city. For her, the festival is about faith, family and the way Mumbai comes alive every year. On September 19, the actor visited Lalbaugcha Raja, an experience she describes as particularly personal. 

“There was something about the faith, warmth and energy around me that left me feeling genuinely grateful and peaceful,” she says. Her connection with Ganpati goes back to childhood, with one of her fondest memories being a visit to Lalbaugcha Raja with her parents. “One of my favourite childhood memories is going with my mom and dad to Lalbaugcha Raja,” she recalls.

Even today, she enjoys the sense of togetherness the festival brings. “Some of my fondest Ganpati memories are simply seeing Mumbai come alive every year, the celebrations, the warmth and people coming together.”

Aamna, who is married to producer-filmmaker Amit Kapoor, is yet to bring Bappa home, but hopes to do so someday.

“I still haven’t got Bappa home, but would love to someday,” she says. For now, she enjoys both the public festivities and her quieter moments with Bappa.

“I’ve come to appreciate both sides of it. The energy of public celebrations, the creativity and devotion behind each pandal installed, and then returning home and celebrating with family. But most I love is my inner connect with Bappa and my alone time with him,” she says.

For Sharif, the childlike excitement of the festival is just as important as its spiritual side. “I feel the life’s best lived are the ones where you never lose your childlike nature. So for me, it’s still about the modaks, the way the city comes alive, the dance on the roads, and all things festive and divine about it,” she says. She has a clear favourite when it comes to the festive treat.

“I love modaks, especially the malai kesar ones and the coconut steamed ones. I can literally finish an entire box,” she says. The festivities also give her an excuse to dress up. “I usually love to dress up even on other days, so festivals just give me the opportunity to up the ante and celebrate the spirit of it,” she says.

For Aamna, however, the heart of the festival lies in gratitude rather than asking for specific blessings. “More than asking for anything specific, I am always grateful for whatever I’ve got in life, and my prayer is always for the health, happiness and well-being of my family. With time, I’ve realized that peace of mind and having your loved ones around you are perhaps the biggest blessings one can ask for.”

That outlook, she says, comes from her upbringing. “Irrespective of where I come from, my parents have always taught me to celebrate and respect every festival, and I keep that belief alive.”

With a three-decade career in films behind her, Sheeba Chadha has seen Hindi cinema evolve in many ways. If there’s one evolution that particularly makes her happy, it’s the longevity of female actors’ careers.

“We have reached a place where we are writing characters for actresses after a certain age. I am in my mid-50s and happy to be getting the work that I get,” smiled Chadha, who, at 54, has many projects in her hand, including the ambitious Ramayana: Part 1.]

While there have been positive changes in Hindi films, the actor believes there is scope for improvement, especially when it comes to the portrayal of women. For instance, she is tired of the “suffering mother” archetype.

“We can do away with the long-suffering mother because we don’t want our moms to be doing that. My character, Vasudha, in Mirzapur: The Movie is a flawed mother. It’s not something I’d condone, but it’s interesting. I would like to see more of that.” 

Chadha also hopes the industry does away with the toxic male gaze. “We have a lot of that in our society. If films also start showing a toxic male gaze and retribution is not offered in them, it only fortifies that standpoint instead of destroying it.”

For Dhirendra Mulkalwar, turning composer with Hanuman Ansh is nothing short of a divine experience. After composing nearly 500 jingles and working as a music producer on films, taking the leap into music direction with a film about spiritual guru Neeb Karori Baba — who Mulkalwar is a follower of — seemed fitting. Having created the film’s background score and composed Siyavar Ramchandra Ki Jai, he tells mid-day how surrendering to Neem Karoli Baba helped him find the movie’s melody. Excerpts from the interview.

Neeb Karori Baba is a [renowned] figure. People across the world, including Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg, have spoken about his impact. So, as a music composer, the responsibility became huge because this film would not be limited to India; it would be seen all over the world. The good thing was that I surrendered myself to Babaji. It took me two-three months to crack the first theme. [Before that] I would try, reject, try again, but I was not happy [with the results]. Then, one day, I remembered Babaji. Within five to 10 minutes, the melody started floating. It was a divine experience for me. 

No. When Vishal ji asked me if I would compose the score, he had no idea about my connection with Babaji. He had undertaken a 43-day ritual before the film started, and I went there to perform the Hanuman Chalisa. When he asked me to do the film, I said yes in a fraction of a second. I also told him that I had gone to Chitrakoot a few months earlier after trying to visit it unsuccessfully for four years. I went in April, and by July, he had offered me a film on Babaji.

On those movies, I worked as a music producer. With Hanuman Ansh, I am the music director and have done the background score, so the roles are different. Seeing my name on the big screen as a music director has been a special moment for me. The fact that it happened with Babaji’s film makes it even more special.

Hanuman Ansh was made on a limited budget. We did not even have the budget for marketing or recording. So, I converted my house into a studio and conducted all the recordings at home. On earlier films, we could afford to go to an orchestra in Vienna, but here that wasn’t possible. I knew the challenges the makers were facing, so it became like a family. I took my friends’ help. We didn’t want to compromise on quality. 

I don’t know of any official announcement. The first film is still running in theatres. Once that is complete, the team will discuss the sequel.

Mumbai: Several local language movies that scored financial success in the past two years, particularly those focused on their home audience and not the Hindi market, reflect a course correction in the way regional films are conceived.

After a series of failed attempts at creating pan-India films by relying on stardom, scale and Hindi dubbing, regional movies are increasingly focusing on their core audience, and if the content is strong, they travel across markets, said exhibitors, producers and distributors.

The rising focus of streaming platforms on box-office success as a key criterion in digital rights valuation, universal appeal of culturally rooted stories and reasonably good awareness of regional cinema have contributed to the notable successes of regional films across markets, they said.

Films such as Bethlehem Kudumba Unit (Malayalam), Irumudi (Telugu), Deool Band 2 (Marathi), Tourist Family (Tamil), Su From So (Kannada) and Laalo (Gujarati) recorded massive successes without Hindi dubbing. Bethlehem Kudumba Unit, made on a budget of less than Rs. 25 crore, collected Rs. 156 crore in India alone.

Increasingly, digital platforms are taking content-oriented films in any language into the spotlight. This has added to success stories of regional films across languages, said exhibitors.

"Today, good content in any language travels, thanks to the active global digital network of audiences. Well-made regional films have benefited from this. Even a small-budget film, Hanuman Ansh, has travelled and is doing well even in Australia, New Zealand and the US," said Devang Sampat, managing director at movie-theatre chain Cinepolis India.

These regional films have performed well without Hindi distribution. "The box-office performance of recent regional films has shown that Hindi distribution is an opportunity for expansion and not a prerequisite for success," said Suniel Wadhwa, cofounder and director at film production and distribution company Karmic Films.

Recently, Telugu film Irumudi, made with a budget range of Rs. 35-40 crore and was also released in Tamil, generated more than 95% of its total collection of Rs. 188 crore from Telugu markets alone.

In the past five years, streaming platforms solved the distribution problem for regional films. Faithful dubbing and subtitling have created a base of incremental audiences who are aware of regional films and their artists.

"I think this entire decade will be of regional cinema. Streamers have expanded regional cinema's audiences outside home territories. Today, a Malayalam film, Bethlehem Kudumba Unit, has six shows in theatres in Gujarat and Kolkata," said film producer Naveen Chandra.

Audiences have been rewarding culturally rooted stories across languages more often today than ever, producers said.

"Today, audiences only want rooted stories. No star power or add-ons will excite them. This is reflected in the underwhelming performance of the recent Kannada film Toxic: A Fairy Tale For Grown-ups," said producer Rajesh R Nair.

This increasing focus of makers of regional films on home territory first and then organically expanding to other markets through subtitling is a reaction to the correction in digital rights valuation, said distributors.

"There is uncertainty over recovery in investments due to correction in digital rights valuation. This has limited the scale of films in regional cinema," said Shaaminder Malik, a distributor and film business expert.

Rajkumar Hirani says he didn’t intend to make a series or to make a series about cybercrime. However, during the pandemic, he read about a lot of incidents and became fascinated by the world of cybercrime.

He spoke to cybercrime officials and hackers in Mumbai and Delhi. And he felt that this material couldn't be contained within the duration of a film. That realization led to Pritam And Pedro, his first series and his debut on streaming which he didn't direct. Months after its release, and now working on the second season, Rajkumar Hirani admits he’s still a little paranoid about opening his mails.

In a recent conversation, Rajkumar Hirani spoke about the world of cybercrime, and about what streaming taught him.

Rajkumar Hirani says that now he feels more equipped to work in OTT. He shares, “Cinema mein itna depth mein nahi ja sakte kisi character ke andar. Do ghante mein, 2.5 ghante mein kahani kehni hoti hai. We compress the story a lot. While writing as well, we compress a lot - this scene can’t go in, so many pages. Here, in a series, we have the opportunity to go in depth. Aap khol sakte ho characters ki life. Yeh ek alag world hai. Alag dhang se bolni padti hai kahani yahan. I also found that in every episode you have to create some dynamic thing to keep people hooked.”

He says the process changed how he thinks about writing. “Likhte-likhte samajh aaya. Ab likhne ke baad aur (response) dekhne ke baad samajh aaya - in a way I’m better equipped now to do something better on OTT. Ab samajh aaya ki alag hai, cinema jaisa nahi hai. Par hai mazedaar! Kai kahaniyaan jo hum wahan nahi keh sakte, definitely yahan keh sakte hain.”

He also got feedback that the series never derails, which usually happens in longform storytelling. He shares, “Woh hua kyunki hamari cinema ki training thi. Main koshish kar raha tha ki main usko tight rakhoon, aur sab mujhse keh rahe thay - khol dete hain tracks, lamba-lamba rakh sakte hain. Par hamari training cinema ki hai toh lagta hai kyun khol rahe hain usko? Details mein batao, lekin dramatic nahi hai toh mat kholo tracks. I really kept it very tight. Tha bhi lamba, par mujhe laga yahan bore ho jayenge toh main kaatta gaya. Bahut kaata. Bade pyaar mohabbat se ban gayi woh series. Maza aa gaya,” he says, laughing.

Hirani says every project of his begins with a fascination. “If it’s 3 Idiots, then I am like - we should show college life, kahani bahut mazedaar hogi. For Munna Bhai, the concept was: what if an older guy goes to a medical school! So it’s a small trigger through which we jump into that world. PK was about religion, and in this series, the trigger was cybercrime. There is no clear-cut objective. And then you learn that world. Ab toh main mail bhi dar-dar ke kholta hoon,” he laughs.

He explains, “Finally, stories are of characters and their world. Like PK was of religion and God, and this was of cybercrime - but it is personal story of two characters. Humne educate karne ke hisaab se nahi banaya, par research strong hoti hai toh woh cheezein uske andar aa jati hain. Nahi toh surface pe hi reh jaati hai kahani.”

Hirani says the feedback for this show is unlike anything he experienced with films. “Whether film or show - one thing is numbers. In cinema you get to know via box office, and here you get to know by the number of views. Second is people’s reactions. If they don’t like something, aapka phone band ho chuka hota hai. Koi response nahi aata hai. Ya bahut courteous - nice, itna sa aa jayega ek message, ek smiley aa jayega. Kisi ko lagta hai isko bolna zaroori hai. You have to read between the lines and understand ye kaisa response raha.”

This time, the response surprised him. “Very strangely, none of my films got me these reactions. I got reactions from people I haven’t heard from in ages. Kahan kahan se gaon se hamare log message kar rahe hain. I think maybe it’s because it’s available immediately, everywhere, at the same time. I was totally shocked, ye ho kya raha hai. And that made me realize the power of OTT. Reach of OTT is - woh aapke ghar mein ghuss jata hai,” he says, laughing, “aur aapko ticket nahi lena padta.”

He adds, "Till now, the crimes we used to see were really hardcore - on-ground crime and on-ground investigation, like Sherlock Holmes. But cybercrime is a different world, where most crimes are committed by phones and solved by phones."

For the first time, Hirani didn’t direct his own script. Pritam And Pedro was helmed by Avinash Arun, known for Paatal Lok. “I had written it. I know Avinash’s work. Mujhe laga Avinash will do it well. Aisa nahi hai ki main pura disconnect ho gaya tha - likha tha maine, aur phir editing bhi maine khud ki thi. Maine kisi ko nahi diya. Editing is also like you write and rewrite - maine kaafi waqt bitaya hai ispe. But of course, unless you have a good actor and a good director, it can go anywhere. So you have to be on the same page. I think I got lucky with Avinash doing it.”

Who wins creative disagreements? He says there usually aren’t any. “It’s a unanimous call. Ya toh main usko convince kar leta hoon, ya woh mujhe convince kar leta hai. Nahi toh kar ke dekh lete hain — kuch logon ko dikha lo, unke reactions mil jaate hain. Aisa conflict nahi hota hai kabhi. You arrive at a decision.”

The six-episode series follows a tech-averse Goa police officer who teams up with a young hacker to solve cybercrimes. Hirani researched the roles by speaking not only to cybercrime officials but to hackers themselves. Arshad Warsi was cast first as the officer. “Arshad is such a fantastic actor. We were working together after so long, so it was good fun,” Hirani says.

Casting the hacker was less straightforward. Rajkumar Hirani's son Vir Hirani plays the role of hacker. He shares, “Vir was not supposed to do the series at all. He always wanted to do films, and I also had this in mind that he will do a film. Mere paas bhi koi subject tha nahi jo uss age ka ho, toh maine kaha, tum dekho bahar - you read scripts, do auditions. And he was doing it.”

Vir heard the show was being made and approached the producer himself. He auditioned, and it was director Avinash Arun who suggested casting him. “We can take him because the age gap would be very interesting - a senior police officer and a young hacker,” Avinash Arun told Hirani.

Hirani says, “Earlier we were looking for people who were not as young. Luckily, now it has done extremely well and it is the most-watched show. He is also getting a lot of appreciation.”

At Mini Market on Mutton Street, 73-year-old Shahid Mansoori sorts through a pile of rare black-and-white photographs of Sharmila Tagore, Rajesh Khanna and Dharmendra. One of the area’s oldest establishments, the shop is part of Chor Bazaar, a neighbourhood where the past remains very much for sale. Old radio sets sit beside decades-old wooden statues, while antique furniture dates from a time when such craftsmanship was ordinary. Even the narrow lanes here retain their old-school character.

Christopher Nolan has visited the store, while his sons Magnus and Oliver followed his trail to Mansoori’s shop last month to examine his collection of vintage cameras and classic chess sets. Mansoori recalls Nolan visiting in search of old film magazines and rare posters.

Mini Market is one part of Mansoori’s family business. His sons run Bollywood Bazaar and Super Sale, while he manages Mini Market. The business dates back nearly 70 years to his grandfather, who worked on film sets in the 1930s.

“He was more like a clapper boy. He would bring tea and help around the set,” Mansoori recalls. His grandfather, Mansoori B A, worked at Krishna Movietone, one of India’s early film studios, and earned about Rs 30 a month. When an actor failed to turn up, he was sometimes asked to perform.

The family’s connection with cinema continued with Mansoori’s father, who supplied props to film productions. “Homi Wadia, known for Hunterwali and Arabian Nights, was among his clients,” says Mansoori. The practice continues today, with the family supplying props to films and television productions.

Their objects have appeared in films such as Devdas and more. Mansoori’s eldest son, Zahid, points to a pair of steel handcuffs in the shop. “Those were the same handcuffs that Shah Rukh Khan was wearing in the scene where he is arrested in Raees,” he says.

Mansoori’s own relationship with cinema began when he was four. His father took him to the last film shows after work, and he spent his pocket money on chocolates and photographs of film stars. He recalls memories when he watched men paste new film posters on Mumbai’s roads every Thursday.

At the time, few considered the posters valuable. His father would sometimes bring discarded ones home and use them to pack goods. Mansoori could not bear to see them treated as rubbish, so he began cutting and repairing them. Many are still wrapped in newspapers and preserved in his shop.

By the 1980s, his collection had attracted international buyers from countries such as Sweden and France. But Mansoori realised that selling everything would leave him with nothing to collect. He kept the originals and sold the extras. “That is how I built my collection,” he says.

Today, his archive spans Bollywood and Hollywood, with rare photographs, posters, Filmfare and Film India magazines, movie tickets, songbooks, postcards, letters and silent-era material. Among his treasures are photographs from Alam Ara, posters of Satyajit Ray films such as Pather Panchali and Charulata, and photographs of actors including Dara Singh, Suraiya and Kishore Kumar.

At every corner of the shop, there is a new object to discover. There are 1964 Beatles concert tickets that costed 5 dollars at the time, old milk pots from a Maharaja’s temple, and gulab-danis once used in Arab countries. An old inkwell is placed beside nibs and feathers, while vintage cameras and a film projector remind us of another era.

Mansoori points to a 1970s typewriter later used in the film, Coolie. Above hang African masks; nearby are Coca-Cola bottle openers, a telegram machine, taxi meters and folding military-style binoculars from London. “Everything here is a rare piece,” he says.

Much of the collection came from raddiwalas, auctions, garage sales and old homes. Mansoori now has a network of about 40 people across India who alert him when they find something unusual. “It was like a lucky draw. You never know what you will find,” he says.

His shop has also become a resource for filmmakers, writers and researchers. He contributed material to Angry Young Men, the documentary series on Salim Khan and Javed Akhtar, and even did a voice over for the beginning sequence for the project. He has also worked with the Film Heritage Foundation, while his shop has been featured in Film Division’s In Search Of A Fading Canvas.

Mansoori calls himself an archivist and historian of Bollywood, though he never formally studied film. “I just read a lot,” he says. For decades, magazines, newspapers and discarded photographs became his entry point into cinema.

In a shop where every object has a story, Mansoori’s take is simple: “Everything is rare, and nothing is rare.” According to him, an object’s value does not just end in what it is, but in the history it carries. In his shop, picking up almost anything feels like holding a piece of history in the palm of your hand.