While Hindi cinema relied on star power, Indian streaming finally came of age and delivered the biggest hits, with longform storytelling emerging as a beast of its own
Twelve months down, Hindi cinema and the Hindi streaming landscape couldn’t be more unrecognizable from each other. If the cinema of this year has largely taken a turn toward testosterone-heavy gyrating, then the Hindi shows on offer have valiantly balanced the tightrope between storytelling and show-building. It’s true that this is also the year that has rescued Hindi cinema as an industry, reinforcing the belief that Indians will buy a ticket to watch a movie even when they boast a subscription to at least two streaming platforms. But a quick glance at the names, scope, and star cast of the films that have turned into box-office successes will also reveal that the outcome is barely a step forward in audience appetite or cinematic experimentation. That is to say, Indian audiences will flock in hordes to the theatres only when there is a Khan or a Kapoor attached to a project.
The year’s best Hindi film, for instance, wasn’t even technically a feature. Konkona Sen Sharma’s The Mirror, a Lust Stories 2 anthology short about the politics of class, consent, power, female pleasure and loneliness, encompassed the kind of representation, depth and provocation that is often lacking in full-blown features. Brilliantly led by Tillotama Shome and Amruta Subhash, operating at the peak of their respective craft, The Mirror unfolded as a negotiation between public and private spaces — and an examination of female voyeurism. It’s no less than a privilege to see a film that understands and values the complementary prowess of the written word and thoughtful lensing in allowing viewers to read between the lines, to be beholders of a directorial gaze that astounds even when all we are looking at is an empty frame.
Storytellers who moved the needle
Like The Mirror, films like Goldfish, The Three of Us, and Pokhar Ke Dunu Paar remained committed to ambition and experimentation but stopped short of reaching the highs of audience reception or the box-office fate that they deserved. As we look back at this year, these films will probably be bracketed as exceptions in a year that has otherwise seen vapid endorsements — both creative and monetary — for the kind of regressive filmmaking vehicles that should otherwise induce second-hand embarrassment. But then again, “exceptions” are a polite form of discrimination in the Hindi film industry, a way of handing out consolation trophies to storytellers who dare to push the needle in a landscape that punishes progression.
That alone makes the length and breadth of long-form narratives that we witnessed this year all the more significant — especially in light of the country’s I&B Ministry insisting on bringing OTT platforms under the gambit of censorship. In fact, it wouldn’t be completely untrue to say that Indian streaming finally came of age in 2023, a long six years after the first Hindi series (Karan Anshuman’s Inside Edge, 2017) debuted on a streaming platform. Much of this change stems directly from the spirit of collaboration between creative-minded writers, creators, and storytellers that is evident in not just the range of output but also their magnetic quality.
Take Trial By Fire, the year’s standout achievement, for instance. The show, jointly helmed by debutant director Randeep Jha, Prashant Nair, and Avani Deshpande, fictionalized a national tragedy into a riveting and sensitive piece of storytelling. The directorial choices, stylistic flourishes, and writing devices in episode after episode of the brilliantly performed (Rajshri Deshpande in a career-best turn) series lays bare the importance of utilizing creative collaboration between actors, creators, cinematographers, and writers into a well-oiled machine.
Inventive ways of seeing
Not long after Trial By Fire, Jha returned to helm Kohrra, another superbly-observed series from the Clean Slate stable, meticulously led by the ever-dependable Sudip Sharma. In a sense, the show unravels like a police procedural in the same vein as Paatal Lok but the scope is entirely different. Sharma, Jha, and writers Gunjit Chopra and Diggi Sisodia reign in the impulses of an investigative thriller to reveal, with the precision of a scientist, the faultlines in human complicity and culpability. The result is a show that is rooted and refined — nearly every frame feels like an urgent reminder that an execution of this caliber and depth is impossible without a distinct commitment to nurturing exciting voices and keeping their vision away from any interference.
This exact combination of attention to detail and a sincerity toward challenging the status-quo was visible in a host of shows that came out this year — right from Raj and DK’s Farzi to their Guns and Gulaabs, two creators who continue to prove that no one can crack long-form narratives like them, irrespective of the genre. Especially of note are the year’s documentary series — Rainbow Rishta, Cinema Marte Dum Tak — which made a case for the form as a legitimate storytelling piece, eschewing superficiality for a fond affection for the medium and their subjects.
The stacked list of shows — Jubilee, Kaala Paani, Scoop, Dahaad, Jubilee, Class, Mumbai Diaries, Scam 2003: The Telgi Story — which offered inventive ways of seeing, even when they revealed chinks in the armour, reflects a persistence by showrunners that demands acclaim. In Indian streaming this year, there was space for newcomers, emerging voices, established storytellers, and gifted actors, as long as they were able to grasp the rhythm and tone of longform storytelling as a beast of its own. Hindi films, then, were merely incidental — the real crowd-pullers unfolded on smaller screens across the country.