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How Lollywood Lost Lakshmi

How Lollywood lost Lakshmi

Catalogue essay for Arts of the People IV “Lollywood- Pakistani film posters” Fukuoka Asian Art Museum 2006
By Durriya Kazi

Rainbow Center in the heart of Karachi is a teeming three floors of tiny shops selling pirated CDs, PS2s and videos.  Every few months the police try to shut it down and after a few days it re-opens.  Amongst these shops is Ismail Posterwaley, a shop that is merely a counter sandwiched between a porn video shop and another selling religious videos.  You stand outside in the narrow corridor as people squeeze past.  Rehan, Ismail’s son produces posters from a pile of folded posters some old, some new, to shopkeepers advertising the latest video for their rental shop, or roadside café owners who want a poster of the latest sexy star on their walls, truck owners who like to look at their favourite film star on their long journeys or those like me who are collectors.

Royal Park artists

The earliest known posters were printed as lithographs in single or two colour.  When technology grew these became a better quality with four-colour printing.  The posters were originally hand-painted in oils or poster paints in real size, made from movie stills selected by the artist.  Sometimes, they were a combination of photo-collage and painted images.  Since the mid 80’s these were replaced mostly by pasted photographs and a minimal amount of painting.  Today even this handwork is sadly giving way to computer imaging printed on the dreaded panaflex 11.  Lahore is the last remaining painted poster industry left in India and Pakistan.  Here too it is rapidly being pushed into history by the desire to modernize or maybe by the successful marketing of new technology.  Last year alone, some 50 artists left Lakshmi chowk, the heart of the Lollywood distribution and painter’s market in Lahore.  Some are driving rickshas, some are painting “orientalist” paintings for Arab Sheikhs; one successful ex-Lakshmi artist earns money making huge paintings of President Qaddafi in Libya.  Lakshmi is the Hindu Goddess of prosperity and good luck, but luck seems to be running out in Lakshmi Chowk.
Film posters and hand painted hoardings are as important to South Asian film as the film itself.  It is not simply an announcement of the film, but as Ajmal, one of the few remaining artists in Lakshmi Chowk’s Royal Park, says, “we make the actors into stars.”  The hoardings or “banners” as they are called can be on a very large scale even 150 feet in length, composed according to the subject of film: action, romance or comedy.  The work is commissioned by the film distributor.  Action movies are Ajmal’s favourites.  The composition techniques are simple: the hero has prominence, the villain either balances the hero or must be lower or in the background.  Scale change is managed by a system called “in-out”: more important images are placed “in” ie, in the foreground and the lesser characters are placed “out” or in the background.  The artists are passionate about film and are very much a part of the film industry.
While some artists paint both banners and posters, usually the poster painters are specialists.  The undisputed master painter was the late Mustafa.  All agree they cannot reach his heights.  Mustafa worked with an airbrush, and is greatly admired for the good taste of his compositions, by how each pearl in a necklace is made in great detail, how he only accepted payment in an envelope, and mostly how secretive he was with his work.  His son, Rafique Chugtai carried on his father’s tradition; some feel works signed by him were actually painted by his father to establish his son’s name.
On the other hand, Azad, the other great master, who migrated from India at partition, and died in November 2006, had many pupils, worked with a brush and had a bolder style.  The late S. Khan was the most prolific artist and his speed is legendary.  Today his son, S Iqbal runs the studio, still signing his fathers name rather than his own as a mark of love and respect.  A realist, S. Iqbal has changed with the market and today his son turns his sketches into photoshop images for printing on panaflex.  Students of S. Khan add an ‘S’ before their name to indicate they belong to the school of S. Khan.
The artists are apprenticed as young as 10 years old.  Usually the parents give in to their passion for painting and place them under the tutelage of an ustad or master.  Afzal’s grandfather was also a poster artist.  The artists themselves are the real appreciators of the styles of other artists and remember what they consider to be masterpieces much as one speaks of famous paintings. 
Lahore painters have a distinctive style with great attention to detail, and balanced compositions.  Karachi followed the Bombay tradition of large strokes, and sharp edges.  While Karachi used to have some well known painters such as Wazir and AH Mahver ( who preferred to use a blue or mauve palette), there are no longer any artists of note as there still are in Lahore, the center of the film industry.

Mise-en-scene

The posters indicate the melodramatic nature of Pakistan films.  Melodrama is the dominant genre of all South Asian films.  Pakistani films, like their Indian counterparts, play out the pressures of social change. Melodrama allows mediation of social crises usually in a family context internalizing larger issues of social change.  Sometimes it is subsequently externalized onto society much as Romeo and Juliet’s tragedy affected all of Verona.  While melodrama reinforces traditional roles of patriarchy, subordinate women, motherhood, the fallen woman, it also allows a space to cross these lines.  In a way Pakistani films bring the male roles into a domestic even feminine world where the male is forced through conflict to relinquish or negotiate his desire to control.  Similarly women can express their love in ways that are not permissible in society.  The role of women in Pakistani films has evolved far more than that of their male counterparts, as is true of Pakistani society in general.  From the earlier very domesticated, shy but troubled, woman of the early films, who shocks herself with her own desires, the ‘bad’ girl became a hallmark of the 70’s: she goes to the nightclub, drinks alcohol and chooses her male partners.  Of course she is the alter ego of the good woman and her end is always tragic in true courtly love tradition.  From the 80’s a new heroine has emerged: confident, independent, able to look after herself, often an “expert” in martial arts!  Nevertheless, while the possibilities of independence can be suggested, these must be played out within a male world.
The dominant theme of all films is love.  In fact love also dominates poetry, songs, and most greeting cards and decorative devices.  In a society where the expression of love even within marriage is “hidden” and almost unacknowledged as a need, there is nevertheless a tacit compassion for the longing for this most natural of desires.  Transgressions form the core of all films with consequences that end in tragedy or socially accepted endings.
Film, while it is a publicly shared experience, also creates a private and ‘safe’ neutral space for acknowledging human dilemmas that are ignored in the face of the loud political, social and economic wrangling that dominates public interaction.  In Pakistani films these human issues are not addressed in the language of realism.  In a society where people have little control over the outcome of their lives, where every turn of event, good or bad, is seen to be the will of Allah or Bhagwan, reality must be disguised in a scenario of the “supra-real”, much as dreams disguise themselves in symbolism. 
Indian and Pakistani Cinema seems to occupy a supramundane space like most popular arts in Pakistan, where rules of society and politics are temporarily suspended.  This is also what the public expects from cinema: reassurance that what appears to overshadow their lives, is really “temporary” and the important matters of life inhabit a sublime reality.  The success of Bollywood and Lollywood has been its ability to understand this need.  As an extreme example of this deliberate removal from the everyday, imagine the following:
August 14, 1947. India is partitioned after a determined struggle from 1857 for freedom from British colonial rule.  The Jewel in the Crown of the British Empire is divided into several countries: Pakistan, India, Burma, Ceylon, Bhutan, Maldives.  Across India and Pakistan, 16 million people moved between India and Pakistan; Muslims to Pakistan and Hindus and Sikhs to India.  It was not a peaceful migration.  1 million people lost their lives in horrifying incidents of carnage, rape, arson that many still find too painful to narrate.
Also on August 14, 1947, a film is released all over India called “Ailaan” or announcement.  The Director, Mehboob, had arrived in Lahore for its release.  Because of riots, the reels could not be delivered from Lahore’s railway station.  Yet, not to be deterred, Chaudhrey Eid Mohammed, owner of Rattan cinema, Lahore, somehow ignores all the trauma his city is experiencing, especially at the railway station where droves of families, some dead some alive, were arriving without homes to go to, smuggles out the reels and announces its opening at his cinema.
In 1947 alone India produced 184 films, while politicians were negotiating, ordinary people were preparing for partition, gathering their belongings, trying to survive the cruelty and chaos around them.  But it seems they never stopped going to the cinema.

Flashback

Indian Cinema has a long and successful history.  The first silent movies came to India only seven months after they were first shown in Paris by the Lumiere brothers in 1895.  Indian cinema rapidly developed a genre of its own.  Its roots exist in popular traditions such as nautanki theatre, stage plays, dastaan gohi or storytelling traditions, and of course the narrative sung poetry of Sufi saints.  These too made use of stereotypes, versified dialogue, songs and dance.  The origin of Pakistani cinema is in turn rooted in Indian cinema.  Although Pakistani and Indian cinema has now diverged subtly because of the different directions the two countries have taken, religiously, socially, economically and in terms of technology, the early films and filmmakers really came from the same creative pool.
When Pakistan was created in 1947, it inherited a rural part of India with little or no infrastructure, a huge influx of immigrants that needed to be housed, a new government system to be established, an empty treasury.  Against this backdrop, the emergence of Pakistani cinema can be seen as a heroic movement.  As early as 1947, films were being made in spite of the chaos all around. Lahore had an established film industry, producing films as early as the 1920s.  There were 2000 cinema houses across the country.  There were almost two dozen film studios in Lahore alone. Most of these were owned by non-Muslims.  At partition many films that were under production, as well as equipment, were taken by the owners who migrated from Lahore to be completed in Bombay.
However, in the early years, Bollywood and Lollywood continued their association as if partition had not really taken place, with actors, musicians, directors, financiers, technicians traveling easily between the two countries to work on each others films.  Seeing economic potential, many Indian distributors opened offices in Lahore and Karachi.  Dilip Kumar, Kamni Kaushal, Raj Kapoor, Nargis, Munawwar Sultana were equally loved by audiences in the new Pakistan and epitomized cinema. Many Muslim filmmakers decided to stay in India and some came to Pakistan only to return to Bombay, while some Hindu film-makers remained in Pakistan or came back as early as September 1947 when calm returned.
Nevertheless an important core group opted to develop Pakistani cinema.  While Indian cinema continued seamlessly with all their studios in tact, Pakistani film makers had to spend a lot of time re-equipping studios that had been stripped by their owners.  Clerks became managers, technicians took to directing.  Revitalizing the cinema industry was not even on the list of the new Pakistani government which had its hands full with establishing a new country.
In 1924, the Bhatti Gate artistes had formed a collective film association which included many who became big names in Indian cinema: A. R. Karadar, Nazir, M. Ismail, Master Ghulam Haider amongst others. It was an idealistic rather than an economically driven group.  It is said that while Bombay produced economic success, Lahore focused on culture.
The first film after partition was “Do kinarey” (two shores) begun in November 1947, by Dilsukh M. Pancholi who had fled Lahore in August to return the next month. It was never completed as Dilsukh returned to Bombay.  The first official Pakistani film, then was “Teri Yaad” (Memories of You) made by Sardari Lal, unfortunately released just before the father of the Nation, Jinnah, died in September 11, 1948.  While not a very good film, its significance was overshadowed by a nation mourning the loss of its founding father.  

Stars are born

The first filmmaker who consciously and tirelessly sought to establish a competitive Pakistani film industry was the director Shaukat Hussain Rizvi, a charismatic personality who fell in love with, and later married Noor Jehan, the greatest legend that Pakistani film industry has produced.  Along with many others such as Nazir, W. Z. Ahmed, Sibtain Fazli, Luqman, Swaranlata, Ragni, Himalyawala, M. Ismail, Santosh Kumar, who gave up successful careers to migrate to Pakistan, they too were successful in India.   Noor Jehan was a child prodigy whose voice has mesmerized listeners from 1932 when she was a six year old stage performer, till 1998, singing, some say, 6000 songs.  A young girl of exquisite beauty, she acted in only 12 films and has the honour of being the first woman director on “Chanway” in 1951 when she was just 25.  Her beautiful singing voice is what has made her a legend rivaling India’s Lata Mangeshkar as a playback singer.
The first film that had success in both Pakistan and India, and proved the viability of Pakistani cinema was “Pheray “(marriage circles) directed by Majid and produced by Swaranlata, who also acted in it with her husband Nazir.  This was the first of the genre of Punjabi films which, in a much altered form, have become the backbone of Pakistani cinema.  The story was based on a Hindu family set against the backdrop of landlordism in rural areas.  Its songs written and composed by Baba Alam Siyahposh and G. A. Chishti, reportedly in one day, were a hit.
In spite of many flops, Pakistani film makers persisted and steadily grew as an industry.  Pakistan has produced about 4500 films averaging 80 a year.  However the films can be divided by the political rather than artistic developments in the country.  Until the mid 50’s films, were made to make inroads into a market dominated by a successful Indian film industry.  Mostly these films dealt with themes relevant to both countries, landlordism, the conflict between urban values and rural life, all of course centring on love stories.  “Roohi” (1954) by the progressive film maker W. Z. Ahmed, became the first film to be banned for its strong socialist message, although officially, the Censor Board objected to the flirtation of a married woman with another man and its rape scenes.  “Qatil” (murderer) 1955, also has the evil of wealth as its central theme.  While “Baghi” (Rebel) 1956, is a tragedy highlighting the system where the poor cannot get justice.  “Waadah” (The Promise) 1957, also by W. Z. Ahmed, was an award winning film with a similar theme of the losing battle for justice in a rich man’s world.
Around this time, filmmakers formed the Pakistan Film Producers Association whose main aim was to resist the import of Indian films to give Pakistani films a chance to establish.  In 1956, Bengali cinema of East Pakistan (former Bangladesh), was born in Dhaka. Films attracted writers of literary standing such as Manto and Josh Malihabadi.  A new generation of actors were introduced who were distinctly Pakistani such as Sabiha, Shamim Ara (who later turned to production).  The Nigar Film Awards were established in 1958.  In 1959 martial law was established under Field marshal Mohammed Ayub Khan.  He realized the propaganda power of film and established the Department of Film and Publications and insisted on films in regional languages and generally commissioned films as a propaganda tool.  He introduced the pictorial newsreel that ran before every film showing.  After 1962, he relaxed his control and encouraged documentaries on culture and history, establishing this genre in Pakistan.  At this time Pakistan Televison was established, which also added another dimension to film making.  It led to a progressive social realist cinema eg.  A J Kardar’s  “Jago, Huwa Savera” (Wake! Here comes the Dawn!), which won a prize at the Moscow Film festival and “Kartar Singh”, considered a highlight in Pakistani cinema with a successful release in India as well.
A new generation of actors dominated the 70’s.  These were Waheed Murad, a university graduate, the first heartthrob of Pakistani cinema, called “the chocolate hero” by journalists, the screen pair Mohammed Ali and Zeba, Neelo a feisty actress whose famous role in Zarqa, made by her husband, the revolutionary minded Riaz Shahid, about a Palestinian freedom fighter caused ripples; Shamim Ara established a socially proper heroine, however she turned eventually to production and direction and made a series of films about strong women. Rani, who married the director Hasan Tariq, with her tragic beauty, was the ultimate fallen woman in “Umrao Jan Ada” about a Mughal courtesan, and of course Nadeem and Shabnam from East Pakistan who acted in Lahore films.  Dhaka made its own productions with Rahman as the most successful actor.  A new wave of commediens also emerged: Nanna, Rangeela, Munwar Zareef and Lehri.  “Armaan” (Longing) written and produced by Waheed Murad who also starred in it, became the first Pakistani Platinum Jubilee (over 75 weeks).

Adjusting the lens 

The films of this decade addressed a younger audience, second generation Pakistanis, who were enjoying the fruit of the economic revolution of the 60’s had no personal experience of the trauma of Partition, and by now even first generation Pakistani whose new families were growing, wanted to think optimistically.  Mostly romances, family based melodramas, comedies.  Another reason was the 1965 war with India over Kashmir, during which Pakistani people united as never before and expressed patriotic passion.  Noor Jehan’s songs for soldiers on the front have remained some of her most loved songs.  The imports of Indian films were banned.  This finally gave Pakistani film a chance to cater to all of Pakistani Society.  Unfortunately in this freedom were also the seeds of downfall, because it was too tempting for some film-makers to make their version of successful Indian films, rather than struggling with their own creations.  Storywriters became a minority while scriptwriters became more in demand.
Further political upheavals yet again, changed the fortunes of the film industry.  Ayub Khan was forced to resign and another marshal law was imposed.  Elections were held in 1970.  Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto won in West Pakistan and Sheikh Mujeebur Rehman in East Pakistan.  The impasse between these two leaders led to a bloody civil war in March 1971 and the secession in December 1971 of East Pakistan (Bangladesh).  The films of 1971 and 1972 reflected more questioning themes, more themes of pride, history, violence.  By 1973, this nation with its desire to escape reality returned to light hearted films.  This decade also saw a political protest film criticizing Bhutto’s hypocritical autocracy. A black comedy, “Insan aur Gadha” (Man and Donkey) by Syed Kemal shows a donkey (a symbol of stupidity), who becomes a powerful man, while still keeping the characteristics of a donkey.  The most obvious scene was a political address to a field full of donkeys.  Syed Kemal had to escape to avoid the repercussions of his production.
In 1977, Bhutto declared the imposition of Islamic ethics. Nightclubs, gambling, horseracing and alcohol were prohibited. He was overthrown by his chief of army staff General Zia ul Haq, who imposed 11 years of strict dictatorship, and further institutionalized Islamic laws, placing the country into a confusion of laws and establishing the culture of hypocrisy, which even 15 years after his death in 1989, continues to wield its power.  450 films were banned, conservative dress codes were “encouraged.”  The religious zealots, who once occupied the fringes of society, acquired powerful roles, supported, ironically, by Western powers to assist with the Taliban resistance to the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan, and the western fear of the spread of communism.  While women were made conscious of wearing their scarves, and were being arrested for adultery, and laws were imposed making eating in public during Ramadhan a crime, this was also a time of drugs, crime barons, klashnikovs that came into Pakistan with 3 million Afghan refugees, and policies of political survival by those in power.  Bootlegging grew as entertainment shrunk.  Film makers of any worth felt uninspired or crushed.  At the same time, home videos arrived and pirated Indian videos flooded the market. Sophisticated, technically superior, and with a new kind of lively hero and heroine, they made Pakistani stars pale by comparison.  Hundreds of cinemas closed down and were converted to shopping malls or offices.  Yet in 1984, Zia ul Haq’s government announced Government Film Awards for the first time
The only niche in the market, as realized with the earlier success of “Chanway” (1951), were Punjabi films, for which there was no Indian substitute.  At the same time, families virtually stopped going to the cinema, which therefore had to cater to a new, less discriminating audience.  Sultan Rahi, an actor happy once, to find work as an extra, took the film world by storm. “Maula Jat” (1979), which ran for two and a half years, before it was removed from cinemas for showing censored scenes of violence, has become a byword in Pakistan for the proud revengeful aggressive villager fighting landlords and enemies with lots of blood spattered in every scene, lots of women whose honour must be protected.  A new genre had been created.  Instead of the traditional film producers, the new financiers are the Gujjar tribesmen, milk tycoons.  Scripts were almost interchangeable, and the films didn’t advance technically.  However “Maula Jat” or maybe Sultan Rahi and his director Aslam Dar, caught the imagination of the poor man.  One may question his influence in changing behaviour, in introducing aggressive violent outrage as an acceptable response.  This is also the time that Pushto pornography is introduced.  Unlike any stereotypic concept of pornography, the women in Pushto films are very fat and clad mostly in lycra bodysuits as they seduce their lovers with quite active dances.  It is interesting that Musarrat Shaheen, the star of Pushto films, stood against a religious leader in the general elections, and even managed to get a respectable number of votes.
The cinema continues to ignore religious sermons.  Again it is understood by all including the clergy that films may address or reflect society, but they are not a part of society and rules of society do not apply.  One may come across paint thrown on an advertising billboard with a normally clothed female image, but not on the huge billboards with a woman smoking, wearing revealing clothes, in the arms of her beloved.
One may ask what happened to all those creative producers, directors and writers.  Some melted away unable to cope with this new wave.  Some turned to television production as private channels came into being in the 90’s.  Others stuck their ground and a new generation of producers and directors such as Sajjad Gul and Syed Noor, and actors such as Shaan, Babar Ali, Rambo, Reema, and Mira continued making films, although they have never attained the heights of their predecessors.  Some older actors continue to interest audiences such as Nadeem, Babra Shareef, Badar Muneer, while the female stars, Sangeeta and Shamin Ara continue to produce and direct films.  The film journalist, Yasin Gorija, 89 this year, has been a one man crusade to record and honor Pakistani films from 1947 till today from his small office on McLeod Road, Lahore, round the corner from Lakshmi Chowk.
In recent times, there has been an interest from non-Lollywood personalities to intervene in the destiny of Pakistani films: Samina Peerzada, a female television star, directed and acted in “Intezar” waiting) 1999, which was well received.  Many young people see Pakistani melodrama films as a kitsch cult, the worse made the better.  Films like “Zindah Laash” (the Living Dead) Pakistan’s first horror movie, “Shaanee”, the first Sci-fi film and “Maula Jat” have a loyal following.  The International Karafilm festival, which began in 2001 for mostly, independent film makers, each year honours someone from the Pakistani film industry, exhibits film posters, and in December 2005 included a season of films by Rangeela, the master of black comedy, who died earlier in the year.  Ironically the impetus to revive Pakistani film has come from Indian interest in Pakistani actresses and musicians and many collaborations are planned with the thawing of relations between the two countries.

However, even if or when the Pakistani film industry takes an upward turn, one loss may never be filled – the magical artists of Lakshmi Chowk.  …….Dissolve to fade

Bibliography:
1.Gazdar, Mushtaq, Pakistani Cinema 1947-97, Oxford University Press, Karachi 1997
2. Gorija, Yasin, 100 Great Pakistani Films, Alhamra Publishing. Lahore 2000
3. Gorija, Yasin, Lakshmi Chowk, Shahzad Commercial Corporation, Lahore 2000
4. Gorija, Yasin, Pakistan Millenium Film Directory, Yasin Gorija Publications 2003
5. Hayward, Susan, Key Concepts in Cinema Studies, Routledge London 2004

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