Aadrita Chatterji

A few months ago, a Bollywood duology went viral.

People went gaga over the hero, declared the heroine the new national crush and the movie(s) the best investments of the year. While the first group of movie-lovers called it a ‘patriotic movie’, another group asked: was so much violence and bloodshed necessary in mainstream cinema? Let us think back to another popular patriotic movie, Lakshya (2004), about Lieutenant Karan Shergill before and during the Kargil War (1999). Though the second showed war on the field, it is more realistic and less showbiz than what we see in cinema today.

Is Savagery A Way To Stimulate Ourselves?

Destruction has always been a common theme in the arts, whether physical or mental. Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay’s Devdas (1917), later a cinematic classic by Sanjay Leela Bhansali, tells the story of the eponymous protagonist and his ruin after he descends into heartbreak, alcohol and ultimate despair. Though there are references to substance abuse, tragic relationships and demise in both the novel and movie, the characters are still treated with respect and dignity. With modern-day films running on the same destructiveness, we find it somehow much more disturbing.

When the audience cheers when characters are hurt, we end up questioning our societal values: have we lost our sense of humanity? It doesn’t matter whether the person in the movie plays the hero or the villain, as they remain a human being who experiences pain and grief. Instead of reminding us of human values, movies now run on toxic masculinity, innuendoes, female infantilisation and senseless butchery. We wonder whether Saath Saath (1982) would appeal to people today, though the themes of greed, compromise and idealism remain the same.

The Constant Search For Quality Movies

The writer is picky about her movie choices: she refuses to watch action, thriller, science fiction and horror films for different reasons. She has what psychology calls empathic distress, where she ends up relating herself to the characters, which is why she finds violent tropes unbearable in both cinema and literature. She describes herself as neither sensitive nor emotional, yet she couldn’t watch the ending of John Boyne’s The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas without howling. That was history, things that have happened to people.

Instead, she watches slice-of-life and children’s movies, both real-life and animated. A few weekends ago, she watched Love, Sarah (2020) on a random Wednesday evening. To most people, it is a boring tale of four people opening a bakery. More than what they baked, the movie was also about mended relationships. And, of course, finding our unique selling point within ourselves and working on it, much like the matcha mille crepe cake. The writer’s choices may not have been box-office hits, but they touch her mind and heart because of their heartwarming simplicity.

Feel-good Cinema Is What We Need Today

So, what do healing movies have that most movies made today don’t? It is empathy. Hyper-macho movies ultimately forget that humans want peace, which is why we need gentler and life-positive stories. It does not deny that terror exists, but it wants to bring in a human connection that prevents such a show of anger, disgust and hatred. The writer watched Swapped (2026), a story that taught us that everyone needs each other. It shows animals handling their differences not with naïveté but with acceptance, compassion and dignity.

Instead of adding shock value to trigger social media algorithms, let us make movies that trigger our minds and hearts. Instead of dismissing such movies as ‘unrealistic’, we must ask ourselves what makes depicting cruelty and corruption better entertainment? Do they truly depict the human mind? Simply stating the need for such cinema isn’t enough: we must actively choose and financially support such movies, and write about them. It is not about being trendy; our good night’s sleep remains peaceful, knowing that we learnt something good today.

Of course, it all comes down to one’s personal preferences. The writer does not say that people who enjoyed the aforementioned duology are inherently bad, but she does question their reaction upon seeing the carnage. She questions the euphoria people feel when they see somebody in pain or in the worst moments of their life, and how that is packaged as entertainment. She advocates for simpler everyday cinema that heals the inner child within us, who doesn’t understand negativity. It simply understands love, peace and happiness.

Such cinema deserves to be celebrated.