In December last year, when we first heard rumours of Netflix acquiring Warner Bros, the thinkpieces came thick and fast. People said this was the final nail in the coffin for theatrical films, the moment algorithms would officially replace auteurs, and boardrooms would decide not just what gets made, but what kind of stories are even worth telling. A streaming giant swallowing one of Hollywood’s oldest studios seemed to confirm everyone’s worst fears, that cinema would finally become content, IP would matter more than ideas, and risk, originality, and the mid-budget film would be the first casualties.

Closer at home, Universal Music India (UMI) just acquired a 30 per cent stake in Farhan Akhtar and Ritesh Sidhwani’s production house, Excel Entertainment. This comes after Saregama Music invested in Bhansali Productions in December last year, and vaccine billionaire Adar Poonawalla acquired a 50 per cent stake in Dharma Productions in 2024. When corporate deals that haven’t even gone through in the West cause such a stir, is there any panic of a corporate takeover of the movies at home?

Managing director at Mukta Arts production house, Rahul Puri, says, “Giants have always existed in the business. Mukta was one of the first companies that went public and raised money from the equity markets. Then you had PNC [Pritish Nandy Communications], Balaji [Telefilms], Tips [Industries] in those early days. Even when there was a corporate interest, companies — like the [Aditya] Birla Group with Applause — tended to build organically. They didn’t necessarily partner with anyone because they had enough capital to come in and attract talent.”

He adds, “Now the mindset has changed. Corporate houses have recognized the value that creators and production houses bring. They bring a network of talent and relationships, and our business is very much about those networks.”

The style of filmmaking too has changed today. Going to the cinema is a theatrical event, reserved only for big-ticket spectacles.

“Whether it’s action films with big sequences or films on a large canvas with international travel, budgets are much bigger,” says Puri, “There’s also the ambition to make Indian films competitive globally, so quality has to go up, which affects production costs. Corporate investment is a way to de-risk producers while also giving them capital to be able to make these large projects.”

Among the three deals mentioned, interestingly, two of them happen with music labels entering films. In Indian cinema, music and films have always shared a special relationship, in business and in bed. Even bad films could rely on a banger album to be able to succeed. Before phones and social media, music was the first taste of a film, and often the biggest factor that invites the audience in. 

“Unfortunately though in India, music is perceived as free. We never want to pay for music. Since the piracy boom, music has been seen as an add-on to everything else,” says Rajdeep Anand, who works in music licensing, “With UMI and Saregama getting into films, music will finally get its due.”

For Anand too, the deal is like music to his ears. “The older model was that someone would come up with a movie and a set of songs, and then labels would bid for it. But now, everything in Excel’s future that relates to music will go through UMI. Universal doesn’t have to worry about any other player coming in. If I already know my slate for the next five to ten years — what’s coming on OTT, what’s coming in theatres — I can spend time developing new talent and strategically placing which singer gets attached to which project. It gives artistes a platform even before they start off,” he explains, “Look at something like Mismatched (2020-26), Kho Gaye Hum Kahan (2023), or Gehraiyaan (2022), or something as big as Dhurandhar (2025) — they could take much bigger bets with their music. Excel has always had a great ear for music, so I am hopeful that this collaboration will bring music to the forefront.”

Puri also adds, “It is also a play to give music labels a strong flow of content separate from their traditional business, which is essentially just music distribution. They’re taking advantage of a dynamic content monetization space.”

Filmmaker Arati Kadav, whom you may recognize from Mrs (2025), shares why she thinks corporates are investing in films. “First of all, there is always the charm of being associated with the film industry,” she says, “We hear of many films making Rs 100 or Rs 200 crore, but we confuse revenue for profit. Even if a film makes Rs 100 crore, the production cost has gone up so much that the profit we earn is very less.” 

Puri argues that big-ticket films might actually help with cash flow. “If a film like Dhurandhar [Jio Studios] does really well, that money can flow into smaller films. Big stars can’t make infinite films, so the surplus has to go somewhere. Ideally, into more creative films.”

Kadav also agrees, “Corporates coming in might actually impart some autonomy to production houses. For example, Dharma  [Productions] could make the beautiful film, Homebound (2025) because they had the backing of Adar Poonawalla.”

We ask, what if algorithms start to dictate storytelling? She says, “Unfortunately, the climate has already become like that. Algorithms are dictating the shape of our stories already. Actors are chosen by follower counts. The world has become like that, regardless of corporations. At least if a producer with a good sensibility gets corporate money and support, and if they have good convincing power, they might actually be able to break out of that.”

Although Puri, Kadav, and Anand make this sound like a sweet deal, there are still sceptics who worry that this might mean a death for their creative vision. Filmmaker Aditya Kripalani shares his concerns, “Within corporations, you have a whole board of people and their aim is to not lose their job. I’m not saying they are wrong. But for them, the peak point of their life is to keep that job at the platform,” he says, “If I’m at a platform, it’s easy for me to have a checklist: Did it go to Cannes? Does it have a star? What numbers has that star’s previous film done? Once I have that checklist, my head will not roll if I take the film. But if I say ‘I like the film’ and the film doesn’t work, my head will roll.”

Kripalani calls back to when Netflix co-CEO Ted Sandoros said that he thinks Sacred Games (2018-19) may not have been the best choice to open in the Indian market; he would have liked to go with something more “populist”. “Exactly, there you go,” says Kripalani, “For me, the 100 per cent corporatization is when a platform makes a film. Because then the creative individual — which is the director — has no power.  They are hired hands, no matter how big that director is.”

Eros International, a music giant, produced Raanjhanaa (2013), while Aanand L Rai directed it. When the film was re-released, Eros could change the ending of the film with AI, without the director’s consent, completely changing the meaning of the film. Rai was then dragged in a copyright infringement lawsuit by Eros for making Tere Ishk Mein (2025) too similar to Raanjhanaa. 

An important loss in the race to corporatisation is the mid-budget film. “The '1-crore films, we used to call them,” says Kripalani. According to him, movies will now split into big-ticket spectacles or OTT releases. The traditional trajectory for a director to get a big-budget would be to start with AD-ing, get to mid-budget, and then big-budget event films. With corporatization, we may just be witnessing the death of a mid-budget hit. 

“In the 1990s, you used to get 2 to 3 such films a year each from Ram Gopal Varma, from Dharma [Productions], from Yash Raj [Films]. Even Munna Bhai MBBS (2003), Rock On!! (2008), Dil Chahta Hai (2001) were all mid-budget films. A film made for a certain budget with a known face, these are gone,” he says, “In the last couple of years, you have seen Superboys Of Malegaon (2024), Laapataa Ladies (2024), and maybe one or two more — there’s a handful of this kind of film that I can name.”

“I think the people who are in the biggest problem are the mid-level people. New people — like a crazy YouTuber making great content — can still get picked up. And if you’re already an established [Martin] Scorsese or [Christopher] Nolan, you’re okay,” says Kripalani, “But the people who have made five to eight films and are in the middle of their career. There is no platform left for them.”

But what do we lose when we lose mid-budget films? “We lose stories with depth. They may not deal with dark subjects, but they touch you deeply — family dynamics, interpersonal relationships,” says Kripalani, “The indie space deals with the darker sides of society.  Big films are just popcorn films, which is fine. Now you’ll get either mindless spectacle or very dark films. When was the last time you got something like Dil Chahta Hai? That middle space is disappearing.”