A filmmaker and two censor board officials sit inside a dark theatre. On screen, a kiss unfolds. As the seconds tick by, the discomfort on the officials’ faces deepens. After coming out, the three bicker over the scene’s duration. One official suggests trimming the kiss, while the other thinks it should be cut altogether.

This is a scene from Varun Grover’s fictional short film ‘KISS’, but it mirrors reality quite closely. In recent days, India’s censor board has sparked controversy again, this time for snipping a 33-second kissing scene from the Hollywood film ‘Superman’ for being "overly sensual". Even as audiences were bewildered by the abrupt cut in a film certified for 13+ viewers, social media erupted in memes.

But things weren’t always this prudish. Let’s rewind to 1933 when a silent film titled ‘Karma’ featured a kiss that is still considered India’s longest on screen. It starred Devika Rani and Himanshu Rai, who would later establish Bombay Talkies. Some say the kiss lasted up to five minutes, but Kishwar Desai, who chronicled the moment and Rani’s life in her National Award-winning book ‘The Longest Kiss’, says the actual scene lasted under two minutes. Yet, it was ground-breaking.

“It was one of the very few kissing scenes from films that have survived from that era. But pre-Independence India was a very different country. This kiss was just treated as part of the screenplay. The fact that Devika and Himanshu were a real-life couple helped, but there were other examples of actors exchanging kisses too,” says Desai.

Much of this openness, Desai explains, had to do with the cinematic influences shaping Indian film at the time, such as Hollywood which, in the 1930s, had bold portrayals of sex and intimacy in films like ‘Unashamed’, ‘Blonde Venus’, and ‘New Morals For Old’ — a clear departure from the prudishness of the Victorian era.

Foreign technicians and directors also brought in a very different sensibility, points out Desai. “Even ‘Karma’ was made both in Hindi and English. The director, J L Freer Hunt, was a Britisher. Rai was very clear that he wanted the film to appeal to an international audience,” she adds.

Far from being an exception, such scenes were quite common in early Indian cinema, says film scholar Meraj Ahmed Mubarki, who spent months poring over archives from the 1920s. Films from that era — often starring Anglo-Indian or Parsi actors — featured prolonged kissing scenes, sensuous dances, and significant body exposure.

Patience Cooper, a leading actress of the time, appeared in multiple such films: ‘Laila Majnu’ (1922) and Bengali drama ‘Krishnakanter Will’ (1926) included scenes with the heroine’s bust exposed, while ‘Aankh Ka Nasha’ (The Witchery of the Eyes, 1928) featured a passionate kiss. The 1932 film ‘Zarina’ sparked a big controversy for including not one or two, but 86 kisses.

It's not that censors didn’t exist. The Cinematograph Act had come in 1918, and independent film censor boards were established in Bombay, Madras, Calcutta, Rangoon, and Lahore. But they were more preoccupied with politics than kissing.

In fact, the first film to be banned was ‘Bhakt Vidur’ (1921), which came just a few months after the Rowlatt Act, and featured a mythological figure modelled after Gandhi. When it came to sexuality and desire, the British were quick with cuts in American or British films, says Mubarki. “Censor committee reports show that the British were beginning to worry about how Indian audiences would react when they saw a white woman disrobing, taking a bath, sharing a drink, or kissing on screen. Films were a window to the world of the colonizer, and they had to keep it distant,” he adds.

Things started changing in the mid-thirties, both in Hollywood and at home. Monika Mehta, author of ‘Censorship and Sexuality in Bombay Cinema’, says that from the late 1930s onwards, a question began playing on the minds of filmmakers: “What is Indian culture right and how should it be defined in relation to western culture?” In trying to answer this, the film industry became a site for questions of morality and ethics, she adds.

Another factor was the film industry’s negotiation with the patriarchy. “In the context of Hollywood, a big kiss foregrounds the formation of the romantic couple. In the context of India, there was a fear that this notion of the romantic couple would unsettle the joint family system,” says Mehta.

The concerns were not just ethical, but also commercial. After Independence, the ‘family audience’ emerged as the primary moviegoing demographic, replacing the predominantly male viewers of earlier decades. Elements that could make them uncomfortable were done away with, says Desai.

“In the later films Devika Rani did with Bombay Talkies, there was no kiss. Although she was a fairly liberated woman in real life, on screen she became a saree-clad lady who is very much into family. She was playing interesting roles, but they didn’t break the mould of an ideal Indian woman,” Desai adds.

Even in film magazines, the onscreen kiss became a topic of discussion. In the April 1940 edition of FilmIndia, for instance, a reader asked the editor: “Indian films use a duet to express love. Don't you think they would do well to use a kiss instead?”

The magazine’s editor Baburao Patel, famous for his caustic language, replied, “Yes, a kiss would be the shortest cut which perhaps the audience would also like, if it is passionately given. But what about the literary bile of the dialogue writer who wants to spit out love through the painted lips in the shape of senseless words? Then there are the Censor Boards with their unromantic inspectors and tired fossils as members of the Boards. Won't they fall to pieces if they see a good long-winded kiss on the screen?”

After Independence, autonomous regional censors were merged — first into the Bombay Board of Film Censors, and then reorganized as the Central Board of Film Censors in 1952. Films like ‘Karma’ gave way to nationalist and mythological offerings, which showed women as caregivers or upholders of chaste, family values. “After the turbulence of Partition, the film industry had to come back with an Indian image, which was very carefully crafted,” Desai says.

In this new image, overt depictions of desire gave way to more symbolic expressions such as two flowers coming together or a pair of feet peeking out from under a blanket. When some films tried to move away from that, like ‘Satyam Shivam Sundaram’ in 1978, huge controversies erupted. In its coverage of the Zeenat Aman-starrer, The New York Times wrote, “In a sharp break with the tradition of modesty, the kiss has come to the Hindi motion picture screen, titillating some film audiences, scandalizing others, and fuelling a national debate over censorship.”

Decades later, the kiss keeps getting caught in the censor’s crosshairs.

April has been a cruel month. Now the first family of Bollywood has lost its biggest star. Son of a legendary showman, Rishi Kapoor never allowed the illustrious record of his elders to weigh him down. He was a versatile artiste with a nearly 50-year career

Avijit Ghosh (THE TIMES OF INDIA; May 1, 2020)

In a long, glittering career, Rishi Kapoor acted in romantic thrillers (Khel Khel Mein) and love yarns of different shades (Kabhi Kabhie, Laila Majnu, Sargam, Prem Rog, Tawaif, Saagar, Henna). He danced better (Hum Kisi Se Kum Nahi, Karz) than most contemporaries. A lesser actor would have got lost in masala multi-starrers (Amar Akbar Anthony, Naseeb) but Rishi’s easy charm and comic timing helped him sail through. And yes, his movies were synonymous with chartbusting tracks, generally composed by R D Burman and Laxmikant-Pyarelal.

With passing time, he abandoned the mannerisms that came in the way of his growth as an actor. In the coda of his career, when character actor parts were more etched out, Rishi Kapoor found a second wind. A garrulous Bollywood producer (Luck By Chance), a gay dean (Student Of The Year), a loathsome trafficker (Agneepath), a spirited grandfather (Kapoor & Sons) and an aging Muslim laywer battling for honour (Mulk) -- he invested each part with a sense of the real.

“My second phase as a character artiste is particularly gratifying because I could disprove certain misconceptions that people have about senior actors,” Rishi wrote in Khullam Khulla, the autobiography he co-authored with Meena Iyer.

Few Bollywood autobiographies – barring those by Dev Anand and Naseeruddin Shah -- are so honest. Rishi spoke about fearing his father before coming to admire him, his bouts with alcohol, depression and chauvinism. He wrote how he had objected to Rajesh Khanna -- whom he initially disliked -- being considered for Raj Kapoor’s Satyam Shivam Sundaram, and admitted to a drunken fight with fellow actor Sanjay Khan. He admitted how he had gone to Javed Akhtar’s home to bait him after Imaan-Dharam scripted by Salim-Javed had flopped and expressed regret at not being able to help R D Burman when the down-and-out maestro asked for work late in his career.

Kapoor was born on Sept 4, 1952 in Bombay’s no. 1 film family. “I have a vault filled with priceless memories, and a unique vantage point since birth. I have seen four generations of Kapoors at work -- from my grandfather, my father, uncles and brothers, to Karisma, Kareena and Ranbir (his son),” he said in his autobiography.

He was a natural. In his debut role as a boy besotted by his school teacher in his father’s Mera Naam Joker, Rishi projected the right degree of infatuation with heartbreak. Bobby was made primarily by Raj Kapoor to tide over the losses suffered after Joker flopped. The love story oozing with teen glamour became a monster hit. Songs such as Hum tum ek kamre mein band hon – now revived in these times of social distancing -- were frowned upon by aging India but lapped up by the young and the loveless. Kapoor and his co-star Dimple Kapadia became the vanilla of the season.

The film shaped his image as a romantic star. He was yoked to the template of youthful entertainers, where he lipsynced to peppy songs in pullovers. He was often paired with debutantes (Shoma Anand in Barood, Kajal Kiran in Hum Kisi Se..., Ranjeeta in Laila Majnu).

Always in step with the times, Rishi Kapoor was a regular on Twitter. He tweeted honestly and, sometimes controversially, to his 3.5 million followers. The actor’s last tweet, posted on April 2 was straight from the heart. He wrote, “An appeal to all brothers and sisters from all social status and faiths. Please don’t resort to violence, stone throwing or lynching. Doctors, nurses, medics, policemen etc… are endangering their lives to save you. We have to win this Coronavirus war together. Please. Jai Hind!”

MESSAGE FROM THE FAMILY

“Our dear Rishi Kapoor passed away peacefully at 8:45 am IST in hospital today after a two-year battle with leukemia. The doctors and medical staff at the hospital said he kept them entertained to the last.

“He remained jovial and determined to live to the fullest right through two years of treatment across two continents. Family, friends, food and films remained his focus and everyone who met him during this time was amazed at how he did not let his illness get the better of him.

With sex and sexuality being hush-hush topics in India, any film with some amount of skin show generates curiosity, which, often transcends into ‘healthy’ (pun intended) good opening collections at the ticket windows. After all, nothing sells like sex.

People still remember Mandakini’s shower act in Raj Kapoor’s Ram Teri Ganga Maili, Rekha’s bathing sequence in Girish Karnad’s sensuously crafted Utsav and Zeenat Aman’s cleavage show in Satyam Shivam Sundaram. In recent times, films such as Jism 2, Murder and B.A. Pass created waves online as well as in theatres.

The latest film to explore the theme of erotica is Akhilesh Jaiswal’s Mastram. A biopic of legendary Hindi porn writer, Mastram whose books were read by young men across India in the ’80s, the film tries to explore the writer’s conflict with his creative aspirations and society. The idea is novel with the trailer evoking interest among the Internet savvy audience.


Shashi Kapoor and Zeenat Aman in the 1978 film Satyam Shivam Sundaram

When fact meets fiction Out in the open Akhilesh Jaiswal, the director of Mastram says, “Like many young North Indian men, I too grew up reading Mastram’s books. I used to wonder how this guy would be like and what would he be telling people about his profession. It was just a thought that later formed the base for my film. We did a lot of research but could not find any links to the ‘actual’ Mastram. Most of the old bookstalls that sold his stuff had shut shop or the owners had died, so I could not establish any contact.”

Working on a film based on the life of a porn writer would not have appealed to many Bollywood heroes but Jaiswal says that the initial reaction wasn’t that negative either.

“I did not approach any big star but 90 per cent of those I asked were kicked about the script. When Nawaz (Nawazuddin Siddiqui) heard it, he loved it and so did Rajkummar Rao. Unfortunately, they could not be a part of the film due to other commitments.


Mandakini took a shower under the waterfall in a transparent white saree in Raj Kapoor’s Ram Teri Ganga Maili (1985)

Adult topics are slowly finding their way into Indian cinema, be it the theme of sperm donation in Vicky Donor or live-in relationships in Shuddh Desi Romance. Vivek Agnihotri, whose film Hate Story had some steamy sequences featuring Bengali actress Paoli Dam (right) opines, “The media has played a huge role in opening up people’s minds towards bold subjects. And it’s not just about sex. Topics such as gay relationships, premarital sex, abuse, etc are being talked about in open forums. This has made it easier for the middle class to accept such films.” Ajay Bahl, who made the critical and commercial hit B.A. Pass also feels the same, “Indian society is rapidly evolving and people are exposed to foreign content, this has brought about a change in perceptions.”

Beyond titillation With news of a heroine wearing a bikini still making for great PR material, the maturity of the industry when it comes to erotica is highly debatable. The young generation of filmmakers seems to have a common view — sex without content in a film is not going to hold the audiences attention. Bahl states, “In my opinion, only visually erotic content does not guarantee a good opening at the box office. The vibe of a film is very important. Filmmakers now hopefully know that mere titillation will get them nowhere. The idea is to tell a great story and if it falls under ‘erotica’ then so be it. Audiences have been accepting indirect sensual content for a long time in the form of songs and even TVCs.”

The logic seems to hold true. With porn being available at the click of a button, the idea of enduring a trashy film for three hours just for some hot scenes is just fading away. “The world watches porn for gratification and once it’s achieved they shut it off. It’s simply because porn does not have the story or dramatic content to hold their attention.  Films are all about drama, it works if the drama works, erotic or not,” says Bahl.

The modern audience wants to see all genres of films. And erotica is catching up, especially after the success of books like CL James’ 50 Shades Of Grey, both in the print and online version. A lot of erotic content is available in e-books and lapped up by both the sexes.

Agnihotri says, “I made a suspense film (Chocolate) and a sports drama, (Dhan Dhana Dhan Goal) and I wanted to test my audience with Hate Story. I don’t come from a camp that makes such films or own a erotic thriller franchise, it was an independent effort.”

Pushing limits While big budget erotic thrillers do get marketed well, smaller films find it tougher. B.A. Pass (right, below), which earned Rs 4.30 crore in the first weekend had to be released by Bahl himself. “It was not easy to sell the film as no corporate wanted to touch it. In fact, we never sold B.A. Pass. I released it myself with help from Bharat Shah’s distribution company. Making an erotic film just for profitability is in the domain of ‘B’ and ‘C’ grade category. I don’t think any good filmmaker approaches the genre in this fashion.”

Dealing with the Censor Board is another hassle. “I feel they live in an archaic world. The members are totally out of sync with what is preferred by the modern adult audience. The board should be done away with.” However, things seem to be in a transition mode. Director Ashim Ahluwalia who never expected his film Miss Lovely to get a release in India was glad when the Board passed it with only four cuts earlier this year. In 2013, they had asked Ahluwalia for 157 cuts. In India, the Censor doesn’t allow frontal nudity, hardcore lovemaking scenes or graphic content, so as a veteran director opines, “What we see is not really erotica!”

Actors’ take
While Mallika Sherawat’s act in Murder classified her as ‘hot’, Shilpa Shukla wowed the audience and critics alike with her sexy Machiavellian act in B.A.Pass. Agnihotri explains, “Shooting an intimate scene is not challenging. Actors hardly have any dialogues in such sequences. It’s more about playing with the lighting, camera angles and art direction.” Such films have given a boost to many new starlets and revived flagging fortunes.

Bahl says, “My actors were exceptional performers who were mature enough to realise what the film’s actual message was. Thematically, B.A.Pass was based on the premise that society feeds on its own weak and that is the film we made. I don’t think any good actor in their right mind would want to do a (s)exploitation flick. However, if they find material, which digs deeper on an intellectual and emotional plane and a story, which moves them, then today’s actors are brave enough to go further.”