Wooing 'niche' cinema?

MARQUEE

at one of its halls in Delhi.

The print was terrible (despite the fact that the film's recent restoration had made news internationally), the audience expectedly unappreciative, but what impressed itself on my mind most was my encounter with the boy behind the ticket counter.

"Sir," he said, enunciating his words very carefully as if I were a five-year-old asking to be directed to the kindergarten classroom, "I have been asked to warn you that this is an old film "" a 1950s film, and we are only screening it as an experiment."

He looked surprised, even mildly aggrieved, when I opted to purchase the ticket despite his admonition.

It's worth mentioning that in all my years of frequenting multiplex theatres, this is the most extended personal conversation any ticket-counter attendant has sought to engage me in.

No one has ever seen fit to counsel me about the effect a puerile Adam Sandler comedy might have on my delicate sensibilities. Nor have dire warnings issued forth about the ear-shattering decibel levels of a Vin Diesel action film. But a classic that regularly features in Top Ten lists around the world?

Do everything you can to steer the moviegoer away from it!

It's an old story, one most film lovers in Delhi and other cities are familiar with: the apathy of the big halls towards what are seen as "niche" films (a broad definition, used to include anything that hasn't come out of the Bollywood/Hollywood mainstream).

The refusal to accept that awareness is on the rise, that there is a growing audience for "alternative" cinema, has been perplexing.

For years now I've shaken my head in wonder at the dichotomy between the enormous crowds that congregate at the annual Cinefan and other film festivals on the one hand, and PVR's polite statements that "there isn't an audience for those types of movies" on the other.

Now, there are signs that the tide is turning. Last month, PVR participated in a digital film festival. True, the screenings were limited but it did make a statement; I can personally attest to how weirdly nice it felt to be able to see a film (The White Balloon) by the German master Werner Herzog while sitting in plush, air-conditioned comfort.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, the multiplex tied up with the French Cultural Centre for another mini-festival. Movies with subtitles, which have been the bane of theatres and distributors who press for dubbing whenever a foreign film has to be screened.

Does this represent a change in thinking? PVR's Tushar Dhingra says the aim of the company is to provide a wholesome viewing experience.

"The world is getting smaller," he says, "and we believe our audiences are more open now to non-mainstream movies, including those in other languages." The multiplex is now even in talks to organise a festival of south Indian films "" something that would have been unthinkable a couple of years ago.

I don't want to give anyone false hope though, so here's a sting in the tail. Malayali filmmaker Anup Kurian's Manasarovar, which won the best film award at the International Film Festival of Mumbai earlier this year, was finally screened commercially in Delhi and Bangalore last week, at the Europa Lounge Gurgaon and PVR Bangalore respectively.

Another positive development, one might think. Except for this: the newspaper listings, which cover all the films screened in the NCR, failed to mention Manasarovar and its timings.

Clearly, good intentions aren't enough "" they have to be seen all the way through.