Fimmaker's Dilemma

The DVDs and CDs are marked Nu 50 but can come down to Nu 20, if one can bargain.

“The quality is good. It saves time and the expense of going to a movie theatre where you’ve to pay Nu 150,” says a monk, who picks up a copy of the film, Sawadeekhrap.

The vendors selling the stuff say they buy it from Siliguri, India, while some say it comes from Nepal. They refuse to be photographed and get agitated when further questioned.

Vendors claim to sell about 50 to 60 copies a day with some Bhutanese purchasing in bulk. Even music CDs of latest films like Seldrup is easily available.

“It’s disheartening to know that our movies are sold cheap across the border. If this continues, in the long run, people may stop coming to movie theatres,” said Tshering Wangyel, a prolific local filmmaker, who churns out as many as four movies a year, Bollywood style.

Tshering Wangyel said that the Bhutanese film industry is still at its infancy; therefore it’s important to curb the practice. “I don’t blame the Indians. Ultimately it’s us, the Bhutanese. It’s our negligence,” he said.

He pointed out that Bhutanese movies are copied from master copies, which is why the quality of pirated movies is good. This issue continues to confound and frustrate local film directors and producers.

“We don’t know how it’s being leaked and it’s quite disturbing,” said Wangchuk, the vice president of the motion pictures association of Bhutan (MPAB). He said that some progress had been made in the association’s investigations into the matter. “We know there are two Bhutanese guys, who are connected to the Jaigaon sellers, and who also copy the master copies in Siliguri,” he said. “But we aren’t yet able to identify them.”

In Bhutan, when movies are screened in dzongkhags, producers hire staff to screen them, explained Tshering Wangyel. “I think that’s how the copies get leaked,” he said.

Namgay Tshering of NT sound and vision said that, unless the government and the concerned agencies intervene, there would be no end. “It’s dampening the spirit of the whole film industry and its fraternity,” he said. Namgay Tshering recently filed a case with the Thimphu district court, regarding the piracy of the film, Pho-Mho’s Bartshay (Lover’s Barrier) by the producer from whom NT sound and vision bought the audiovisual rights. He is also following up on the trial of the copyright issue of his film, 49 Day I, which has been going on for more than a year, he said. “Even when people involved are taken to the court, it doesn’t serve the purpose,” he said.

But in what should be exciting news for the local film and music industry, the government demonstrated a hint of seriousness when it recently brought concerned agencies, such as the police and customs for a meeting to strengthen enforcement efforts.

Intellectual property division’s (IPD) Kencho Palden told Kuensel that a rulebook is currently being drafted to make enforcement agencies clearly aware of their roles in curbing piracy. He said that concerned agencies, including the judiciary, had not been fully aware of their responsibilities.

“The police will be able to investigate, search, confiscate pirated products and take pirates to court,” said Kencho. He added that customs would shortly begin searching for pirated goods at entry points, such as Bhutan gate in Phuentsholing.

On whether this would mean businesses currently renting and selling pirated versions of Hollywood and Bollywood films would also need to comply with copyright laws, Kencho said that, since this was already prohibited by the customs act, “at a later stage customs will have to crack down on them also.”

One of the vendors in Jaigaon said, “What’s so great about Bhutanese movies, anyways? They all appear like a remake of a Bollywood film with similar songs and dances,” he said.

Over the years, a couple of Bhutanese film songs have also been adapted from popular Tibetan and Hindi songs.

For instance, the song, Phu ru ru from Zhizang is similar to the Tibetan song, Nyenduma, and the original version of the song is in English. Similarly, tunes like Apa and Nge gi sem gi dhunghe na from sZhendhen is similar to Nge sempa khesong (Tibetan) and Dekha ek khwaab mein (Hindi).

On this, the director of the movie sZhendhen, Tshering Wangyel, opines, “It’s not fully lifted or copied but adapted. At times, whenever we do something new, coincidentally it happens to be there already,” he said. “Whatever’s adapted has our own identity. It’s performed by Bhutanese and in our national dress,” he reasons, adding that many rigsar (new songs) tunes also sound similar.

IPD’s Kencho Palden, who is a design examiner, said he did not “fully agree” with this explanation. He pointed out that, when you adapt, you still required the original author’s “specific permission”. Kencho was not sure if Bhutanese filmmakers consulted and made agreements with the authors of works they adapted.

He said cases of copyright infringement by Bhutanese filmmakers themselves are taking place. “A lot of the ideas are not original,” he said, “sometimes the entire story line is lifted from elsewhere, which is ridiculous.” He added that, if copied especially for commercial purposes, it is a direct infringement of copyright laws.

Kencho pointed out that the possibility of being sued by a Bollywood company for copyright infringement does exist. On why this has not happened yet, he explained that, since the local market was still small, legal fees would probably be more than the returns from legal action taken by an international company.

Influence: Bhutanese Films

Picture this scene: The hero fights off 10 or so bad guys and gets hit by several bullets. What wouldn’t the good guy do for his ladylove? But that’s nothing. After whipping the villains into a pulp and, in the process, catching a few stray bullets mid-air with his bare hands, the hero walks away unscathed. The lovebirds, dressed in their best, then do a song and dance to celebrate. It’s either a tango in the middle of a desert or a bhangra on top of a mountain.

Sounds like the perfect clichéd plot of a Hindi film?

Many new Indian filmmakers are doing away with such formulae and strictures. Instead, emboldened by the developing taste of a burgeoning middle-class in India, moviemakers are breaking new ground, employing novel approaches and styles, with many of their scripts woven around issues related to the new generation of Indians.

For instance, Anurag Basu’s Life in a Metro, released in 2007, addresses issues faced by couples in a metropolis like Mumbai. It was a surprise hit with critics, who enjoyed it, pointing out that the film was original and portrayed more realistically the dynamics of relationships in the city. In India today, typical “masala” films of the 80s and 90s, with highly sensational and unrealistic plots, have few takers.

In Bhutan, observers agree that moviegoers have been largely weaned on Indian films, especially of the past. What impact will the changing direction of Indian cinema have on the Bhutanese film industry?

Filmmaker Tshering Gyeltshen of TG Media and Infotainment (TGMI) in Thimphu believes that the transformation of Indian films would, no doubt, have a positive impact on Bhutanese cinema.

“Bhutanese films have always followed Indian cinema,” said Tshering Gyeltshen, who is also an actor and writer. “Our audience draws heavily on mainstream Indian cinema, so do our filmmakers.”

However, Chenzig Media’s Dorji Wangchuk, who writes and is also the director of an upcoming film Nazhoen Charo, is not sure if “Bollywood offbeat films” would influence Bhutanese movies.

“Bollywood films are not necessarily our main influence,” said Dorji Wangchuk. “It appears that we’re copying Bollywood but that’s not the case. We’re not Bollywood or Bollywood is not us. For instance, the film Travelers and Magicians was a big lesson for most Bhutanese filmmakers.”

But he agrees, at present, only “commercial cinema” sells in Bhutan. At any rate, offbeat films are scripts most Bhutanese producers are unwilling to put their money into. Because they don’t make money, say director Tshering Wangyel.

Tshering Wangyel is a prolific filmmaker and churns out as many as four movies a year, Bollywood style. Potboilers with large dollops of slapstick comedy and, for novelty, filmed partly in foreign locations like Kolkata, Darjeeling and Bangkok. Audiences lap it all up. He directed such hits as Sergyel and the recent Sawadeekhrap. His foray into a serious movie, The Golden Cup, however, did not do as well.

“No producer wants to take risks in a different movie,” said Tshering Wangyel. “As a director, I have to make them come back … at the end of the day, if people come to watch my films and the producers get back their money, I’m happy. That’s also my reward and satisfaction. I make films that audience like.”

Tshering Wangyel is also one of the first Bhutanese directors to make his actors disco dance in his movies, be it inside the club or outside on the grassland, complete with extras to spare. How that looks in a gho or a kira, in full or in half, is people’s opinion.

But it also does not mean films that deviate from the formulaic drones have not done good business. According to viewers, if they are made with the right touches and approaches, like Tshering Gyeltshen’s Muti Thrishing, it definitely holds appeal to people. Tshering Gyeltshen’s movie about a girl, who is forced into prostitution by circumstances, and a journalist, who struggles to understand her even as he falls in love with her, was a huge crowd puller. It was by no means a standard offbeat film, but it was, by all means, a different Bhutanese film, with an engaging and a socially relevant theme to boot.

“The mentality among (Bhutanese) filmmakers, that making an unconventional film won’t do well, should change,” said Tshering Gyeltshen. “How do we know about it without even trying it? Filmmakers should also be socially more responsible.”

Chenzig Media’s Dorji Wangchuk, though, claims to not being a fan of mainstream Bollywood, still draws inspiration from Indian directors like Madhu Bhandarkar of the acclaimed Chandni Bar and the legendary Satyajit Ray. It’s true, he said, that audiences often dictate the contents of the film but a filmmaker should not give into them so easily.

“We should be able to train the audience,” said Dorji Wangchuk. “We should draw the audience to you rather than you being drawn towards them. The decision is yours- whether you make films simply for money or you’d like to be remembered for a film you made 30 years ago.”

For the audience, it would be interesting to see what new craft Dorji Wangchuk has brought into his first feature film Nazhoen Charo.

This is, however, not to suggest that the Indian cinema has suddenly become the be all and end all of inspiration for Bhutanese filmmakers. There are still trash films being churned out in the Indian market like the mindless action and comedies with loads of sexual innuendoes thrown in for spice. But that, along with the bad and the ugly, there are, finally, a few good too.

Besides the rising population of the Indian middle class, there are other factors affecting Indian cinema. According to Sujoy Ghosh, the Jhankaar Beats director, the mushrooming of multiplexes in India has greatly helped expand the horizon of Indian films. “Today, certain financial bodies are also ready to take risks investing in low-budget different films,” Sujoy added.

These days, Sujoy pointed out, star power or a big banner is no longer sufficient to persuade the audience to sit through a bad film.

Sujoy Ghosh said: “As societal norms change, it’s the consumers who influence the content of films. Today, the circumstances and atmosphere have changed greatly (in India). And that’s how we learned about the craft, about its new approaches - as the society grew." Would the same apply to Bhutanese films?