Blockbusters without superstars: An exciting year in cinema

Nepal: For Nepali film industry, 2024 was an encouraging year, both on the mainstream and arthouse fronts. Some films led by actors who were previously limited to supporting roles became runaway hits while a few arthouse-oriented films made an impressive presence in world cinema.

 

Perhaps the highlight of Nepal’s year in cinema is ‘Purna Bahadur Ko Sarangi’. Directed by Saroj Poudel, the film told the story of a Dalit father, a travelling minstrel by profession, who goes to great lengths to secure a bright future for his son.

 

Though the film might have come across as a tad too melodramatic for some, it was a tearjerker for many. It brought to screens the vanishing profession of travelling minstrels, and the poverty and caste discrimination that they grapple with. The film became the highest grossing Nepali film ever, raking in a whopping Rs492.5 million at the box office.

 

In 2024, not only did the films encourage many to frequent cinemas, but some also pulled people into the theatre for the first time, says Tripti Giri, general manager of QFX Cinemas, the country’s largest cinema chain.

 

“Many people from different places visited theatres for the first time this past year,” Giri says. “It suggests the popularity of Nepali films is increasing.” The success of ‘12 Gaun’, whose screening coincided with that of ‘Purna Bahadur’ would also evince that.

 

While there were a few notable mainstream films earlier in the year, like the raw and powerful ‘Boksi Ko Ghar’ by Sulakshan Bharati, and the subdued tale of a family dealing with the ramifications of modernity, Nabin Subba’s ‘Gaun Aayeko Bato’, which was selected at the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival, the industry gained momentum on the second half.

 

“At a time when the popularity of cinema halls appears to be dwindling in the rest of the world, the trend appears to be just the reverse in Nepal,” says Prachanda Man Shrestha, a distributor and filmmaker. “This is surely exciting.”

 

For long, it was thought that big stars were key for a Nepali film to achieve blockbuster status. What made the year special was that the films that were least expected to succeed stole the spotlight.

 

“2024 was a great year considering the success of mainstream films—‘Purna Bahadur Ko Sarangi’ and ‘Boksi Ko Ghar’ became the dark horses,” says Rajan Kathet, a filmmaker selected as one of the 2024 Berlinale Talents.

 

Having predominantly played supporting roles to actors like Dayahang Rai and Khagendra Lamichhane in films like ‘Kabaddi Kabaddi’, ‘Jaari’, and ‘Dimaag Kharab’, among others, Bijay Baral took the mantle of the lead actor in ‘Purna Bahadurko Sarangi’. His heartfelt performance as the eponymous character resonated with millions of Nepalis, and the risk the producers took paid off.

 

In 2024, Nepali audiences were also treated with a notable few films led by female actors. Keki Adhikari played the eponymous character in ‘Boksi ko Ghar’, while Swastima Khadka’s role as a woman in her late 20s struggling to find love in ‘Behuli from Meghauli’ earned plaudits. Meanwhile, Thinley Lhamo’s performance in Min Bahadur Bham’s ‘Shambhala’ was acclaimed in several international film festivals.

 

Whether these female actors’ star-making turns would change the portrayal of women in Nepali films remains to be seen. Indeed, a 2021 report by Docskool showed that women’s portrayal in Nepali films is often reduced to three templates: As providers of sexual pleasure (lovers), warmth (mothers) and gatekeepers of morality and culture (wives).

 

Over the years, Nepali female actors have delivered numerous unforgettable performances, in films like ‘Bulbul’, and ‘Aama’, to name the recent few. Yet, they are seldom offered substantial roles, as creators still don’t trust women to guarantee success.

 

“Since women are rarely given central roles, or even any role once they reach a certain age in our industry, they have no choice but to create roles for themselves,” says Abhimanyu Dixit, a filmmaker and film educator, referring to the fact that ‘Boksi Ko Ghar’ was produced by Adhikari herself and Khadka co-produced ‘Behuli from Meghauli’.

 

Meanwhile, the international visibility of Nepali films is also on the rise. Alongside ‘Gaun Aayeko Bato’, numerous other Nepali films were screened in prominent film festivals around the world.

 

The year began with the release of ‘The Red Suitcase’, directed by Fidel Devkota, which premiered at the 2023 Venice Film Festival’s Horizons strand. Through the story of Dhane, the film brought to screen the tragic story of Nepali migrant workers who have died in Qatar since 2010 and the consequences their families and communities live with.

 

Director Bham’s ‘Shambhala’ stood out as the first Nepali feature to enter the Berlinale competition and became the first South Asian film to do so in three decades.

 

The film follows Pema (played by Lhamo), a woman in a polyandrous relationship in Upper Dolpa, as she searches for her husband, who hasn’t returned from a trading trip, and in the process, discovers herself. For her exceptional portrayal of Pema, Lhamo won the Boccalino d’Oro Prize at the 77th Locarno Film Festival.

 

‘No Winter Holidays’ (Dhorpatan), a documentary about two co-wives negotiating the terms of engagement in a landscape that demands companionship for survival, had its world premiere at the Sheffield Documentary Festival 2023. Directed by Rajan Kathet and Sunir Pandey, the film also won the AlterNativa Film Awards 2023. The fact that the documentary had a month-long cinema run last year indicates a promising future for Nepali documentaries.

 

“Earlier, Nepali audiences were hesitant to visit cinemas for films labelled as 'art’, but this mindset is gradually changing,” says Yangesh, a writer, critic and former president of the Film Critics’ Society of Nepal.

 

A positive conversation around mainstream Nepali films that surfaced in the past year has been the focus on representation.

 

Filmmakers are creating films that address issues such as women’s rights, caste discrimination, and more, to which viewers are responding positively. However, much of the representation is still deeply rooted in stereotypes.

 

Analysing the successes and failures of the films the past year, one thing became clear: A compelling film with only a poster and trailer isn’t sufficient people need to know why they want to invest in it.

 

“It is important to let people know about what you are offering. Films that did well the past year have done this. We will certainly see more Nepali films be creative in marketing and promotion in future,” says Kathet.

 

Despite being admired and praised by those who watched it, ‘Sano Sansaar’, directed by Siddhartha Pudasaini, couldn’t attract as many people because of the lack of this critical element. Further, the timing of the release was also disadvantageous to its commercial success as it was released during the time of fatal floods in the Valley.

 

As we look back, one cannot forget Prakash’s journey to his roots in the Youtube channel Herne Katha’s episode ‘The Lost Years’, which went viral and made everybody teary-eyed. Herne Katha’s films, which are simple yet full of empathy and depth, have made documentaries accessible to common Nepalis regarding both platform and content.

 

One takeaway from the past year was that, although experimental films are emerging in the mainstream, Nepali audiences are still drawn mainly towards movies with simple stories that reflect the realities of our society.

 

Given what films in 2024 brought to the Nepali film industry, it will be interesting to see what the upcoming years have in store.

 

Audiences will be looking forward to the release of films like Deepak Rauniyar’s ‘Pooja, Sir’, which was selected in the 81st Venice International Film Festival under the 'Orizzonti section’; ‘Ek Mutthi Badal’ (My Share of Sky) by Sahara Sharma, which won the 2024 Hubert Bals Fund for post-production; and Subina Shrestha’s ‘Devi’, which premiered at the 2024 Hot Docs and won the Doc Edge Award.

 

Kathet, the filmmaker, says that the success of films like ‘Purna Bahadur Ko Sarangi’ and ‘Boksi Ko Ghar’ proved that films do not always require a hefty budget and big star cast to do well. “As a result, many filmmakers are now inspired to give a shot in the industry,” he says.

 

Directed by Saroj Paudel, ‘Purna Bahadurko Sarangi’ is a film teetering on melodrama that could even make the most demanding audience reach for tissues.

 

The movie opens up with the daughter asking her father (Prakash Saput) about her grandfather, Purna Bahadur (Bijay Baral). As the son recounts his memories, we witness Purna’s life. Set in a village with a mud house, we meet Purna, often referred to as “Purney” by the villagers, who earns his livelihood by singing and playing sarangi.

 

Through singing and playing his Sarangi Purney, in a musical battle, he wins over his future wife, Batuli (Anajana Baraili), and marries her, leaving his romantic rival, Harka, jealous. Strong scenes in the films bring the harsh realities of society to the forefront, making the audience flinch. Batuli’s family conducting her funeral rites just because she gets married to someone of another caste portrays the harsh realities of society.

 

Years pass, and Batuli gives birth to a child, Kancha (Swayam KC). I want to take a moment to praise KC’s acting. Even at such a young age, his performance is impressive and deserves recognition. Purney wishes the child to follow in his footsteps by playing the Sarangi, while Batuli does not want her child to make a living out of begging. Purna’s desire to pass on the Sarangi to his son reflects pride in their heritage and a resignation from the caste constraints that define their identity.

 

The film's inciting incident occurs when Purna’s father dies, and Batuli leaves Purney, taking Kancha to Kathmandu with Harka in hopes of a better future. Only the son returns to his father. As an audience, I thought the film would portray Batuli in the typical trope of villainising women for prioritising and taking bold actions for themselves. Instead, the movie represents Batuli as a woman who rejects a life of dependency and degradation and chooses instead to carve a new path for herself and her son.

 

Casting Batuli as the female protagonist, the movie, by adding the nuances of realism in the screenplay, tries to uncover instances of patriarchy within a typical family household. For example, Purna is absent from his house during significant occasions, such as when his wife goes into labour and gives birth.

 

The scene depicting Batuli’s labour pain is brilliantly crafted as it portrays that her suffering isn't just from the physical pain of childbirth but also from the emotional ache of her husband’s absence during such a crucial moment.

 

The movie's cinematography is notable as the camera allows each character’s emotional depth to shine. A scene with Batuli washing her face and drinking water is presented as a sexual innuendo hinting at Harkey’s longing to be with her. Similarly, Harkey's henchman’s teasing remark, “Your weapon isn't sharp enough,” highlights Harkey’s inability to assert himself both sexually and socially, which further reflects his failure to win over Batuli.

 

The language and diction of the movie are equally powerful, which provokes emotions in the audience to empathise with the sufferings of the marginalised community. Lines like “Seeudo Bhari Cha Mann Khali" (The forehead is full, but the heart is empty) depict the emptiness Batuli felt in her marriage. Similarly, when Purna falls ill, he tells his son, “Okhati k le kinney, ani parikhcya k le dinchas?" (How will you buy medicine? and how will you pay for exams?) which perfectly encapsulates the compounded challenges that marginalised individuals face.

 

Batuli’s departure from his life catalyses Purna to make choices that challenge the status quo. For example, Purna’s decision to send his son to school goes against the norm that children of his caste should continue the family tradition. Although he receives criticism from his friends, he is determined to educate his son.

 

 

Throughout the storyline, we meet with characters representing society’s contradictions or lacking full character development. For instance, the character of the principal of Kancha's school seems confusing. At times, he supports Purna’s desire to educate his son. Still, at other times, he opposes him, even throwing away the school shirt Kancha is wearing, saying, “Kaapi kalam chyaapne bhaneko ta hami ho, teslai sarangi banjaauna sika hai.” (We are the ones meant to hold notebooks and pens; teach him to play sarangi)

 

After the interval, the movie loses its charm, spoiling what could have been a remarkable film. The plot shifts its protagonist focus from Purna to his grown-up son, played by Prakash Saput. It is no wonder that Saput brings his over-the-top melodrama to the movie, which dilutes the narrative’s initial strength. Kancha excels academically, becoming a doctor and topping exams, fulfilling Purna’s dream of breaking free from caste restrictions. However, the movie’s heavy emphasis on the continued success of Kancha (as he tops his SLC, IAC, and MBBS) to defy caste-based limitations comes across as a bit unrealistic.

 

If one has to think practically, how can a Sarangi player afford to send his son to medical school, even with relentless hard work? The cost of medical school seemed glossed over in favour of emotional appeal, raising questions about whether Purna’s hardships were exaggerated for dramatic effect since such struggles might not be financially feasible.

 

Other elements, like Kancha not hearing from his father for eight months despite the availability of telephones or the villagers performing the funeral rites of Purna without informing Kancha, test the limits of realism. Given the strong connection between father and son, it seems unlikely that Purna would remain in the dark for so long. These narrative choices might have been intended to heighten the drama but stretched believability.

 

With the number of Nepali drama movies I have watched, one common aspect that unites almost everyone is their objective to make the audience cry. With this trend, it often seems as if people judge the quality of a movie with its ability to evoke tears from the audience. The audience seems to adhere to a similar formula when judging a movie’s worth. Videos on TikTok, for instance, of people in tears after watching ‘Purna Bahadurko Sarangi’ showcase this emotional approach, placing the film on a pedestal of greatness by viewers.

 

In this sense, ‘Purna Bahadurko Sarangi’ is a missed opportunity for a more nuanced approach to storytelling the pain of people belonging to the lower caste. For someone seeking a balanced narrative, the movie's focus on exaggerating emotions left me frustrated (or annoyed or vexed).

 

Apart from this, Bijay Baral, previously seen in supporting roles, has finally put his acting skills to the test as the lead character in this film. The movie’s songs are also worthy of appreciation.