Silver Screen Circus
Through films like Bhakshak, Peepli Live, Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani, and more, Takshi Mehta explores a complex interplay in the representation of media and journalists in Indian cinema, where real and reel stand as opposing mirrors reflecting each other.
Journalists are often labelled as the purveyors of truth. Yet, in India’s current media landscape where the profession suffers a precarious state, such a statement feels almost farcical. While often hailed as the fourth pillar of democracy, the reality is that this pillar is crumbling, its foundation under constant assault.
In this context, the crime thriller Bhakshak (2024), arrives at a pivotal moment. Directed by the filmmaker Pulkit, written by Jyotsana Nath, and featuring Bhumi Pednekar as Vaishali Singh and Sanjay Mishra as Bhaskar Sinha, Bhakshak portrays the story of a female journalist whose relentless pursuit of justice offers a ray of hope to young girls trapped in a society devoid of empathy, a society that often reduces women to mere objects.
The narrative is rooted in a true incident. In 2018, over 30 children in a shelter home in Muzaffarpur, Bihar, were sexually abused. The organization's influential leader—who also ran a newspaper—wielded enough political power to delay discovery of the incident and suspend further proceedings. The involvement of various government officials further complicated matters. As the story progresses, Bhakshak sheds light on how the conscience of one journalist, Vaishali, becomes instrumental in uncovering the truth.
Released on Netflix, the film delves into emotional depths, drawing striking parallels with the unwavering integrity embodied by the popular journalist Ravish Kumar, thereby underscoring the pivotal role of journalists in upholding accountability. One is reminded of Kumar’s relentless insistence on viewers to confront the falsehoods they’re fed. In his work, Kumar implores us to confront our own conscience, recognizing our complicity in the state of affairs in our country. It is a complicity that manifests through complacency and silence.
In this landscape, there’s a palpable shift away from prioritizing truth towards prioritizing views. Substance is sacrificed for sensationalism. It’s a commentary on the fast-paced, cutthroat nature of modern media, where the pursuit of clicks and attention often outweighs the importance of delivering accurate, meaningful news.
In cinema, journalists have frequently been depicted in binary roles as either heroic champions of truth or nefarious peddlers of sensationalism, with filmmakers who either epitomize journalists, or downright hate them. However, in ventures such as Bhakshak and Hansal Mehta’s series Scoop (2023), a refreshing departure has emerged, portraying journalists as nuanced individuals who defy simplistic categorization. They are neither depicted as zealots chasing ratings nor as uncompromising crusaders for righteousness.
In Scoop, Mehta doesn’t harbor animosity towards journalists; in fact, it holds them in high regard, and recognizes the inherent responsibility and risks involved in their line of work. However, the series casts a critical eye on the burgeoning trend of controversy-driven journalism prevalent today. In this landscape, there’s a palpable shift away from prioritizing truth towards prioritizing views. Substance is sacrificed for sensationalism. It’s a commentary on the fast-paced, cutthroat nature of modern media, where the pursuit of clicks and attention often outweighs the importance of delivering accurate, meaningful news. The character of Jagruti Pathak in Scoop—based on the former journalist Jigna Vora—is then neither a victim, nor a villain; she is both, depending on the perspective of the storyteller.
This nuanced portrayal prompts a broader inquiry into the symbiotic relationship between cinema and reality regarding the depiction of journalists. How do real-world events and perceptions influence the portrayal of journalists on the silver screen? And conversely, how do cinematic representations shape public perceptions of journalists and their roles in society? These questions invite reflection on the complex interplay between media, storytelling, and societal attitudes towards journalism.
When Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani hit theaters 24 years ago, produced by and starring Shah Rukh Khan (who has also produced Bhakshak) and Juhi Chawla, the film failed to make a mark at the box office. However, nearly two decades later, it is being lauded for its prescience. The film’s depiction of the media circus—presented in a darkly comedic and almost Black Mirror-esque fashion—now serves as a grim forecast of the sorry reality of the state of media today.
In Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani Ajay (Khan) and Ria (Chawla) are two television anchors and journalists working for competing news channels. Despite their initial rivalry, they unite to help Mohan (Paresh Rawal), who has been wrongfully accused of terrorism. A vital scene in the film offers almost a foreshadowing commentary on the present media landscape, as Mohan faces the threat of execution and his impending death is being dramatized and marketed, with plans to broadcast it live on national television. This scene serves as a stark reminder of the perilous consequences of transforming news into a mere commodity. It underscores the alarming reality that when news becomes a product to be sold, its authenticity and integrity are compromised. Today, more than ever, with the contentification of everything, one bears witness commercialization of news. One of the most drastic results of this path was when the multi-billionaire Gautam Adani acquired NDTV, leading to Kumar—the channel’s most-respected media person—to resign.
What remains oblivious to most, is that when one consumes news with the intent of entertainment, instead of genuine information, we witness the fabrication and manipulation of events for the sake of ratings and profit. Thus, the film’s portrayal resonates deeply with the present-day challenges surrounding media ethics and the commercialization of information.
The frenzied atmosphere of the ‘media circus’ has been a recurring theme in Indian cinema. Yet, what truly distinguishes them lies in the characters that populate their worlds. Some embrace the chaotic realm of this circus, driven by an insatiable appetite for gossip and tabloid sensationalism, exemplified in works such as Madhur Bhandarkar’s Page 3 (2005), Peepli Live (2010), or even Dhamaka (2021).
Directed by Anusha Rizvi, Peepli Live features two brothers, Natha (Omkar Das Manikpuri) and Budhia (Raghubir Yadav), who find themselves ensnared in a dire predicament within their village Peepli. Their ancestral land teeters on the brink of forfeiture due to crippling bank debts. The duo learns of a government initiative offering compensation to the kin of farmers who have committed suicide. The prospect of financial relief for their loved ones tempts Natha and Budhia to take their lives. The unfolding saga of Natha and Budhia’s contemplated suicide becomes a feeding frenzy for the media, who eagerly dub it as “the first live suicide”, akin to hounds of vultures descending upon their prey. Ratings-obsessed TV anchors spearhead the spectacle, orchestrating a deluge of satellite vans that swarm the tranquil village. In their wake, the serene landscape is marred by the chaos of commodified reality, complete with popcorn vendors and even a Ferris wheel, as the media transforms tragedy into entertainment.
This spectacle bears a striking real-life resemblance to the relentless swarm of media attention surrounding the actress Rhea Chakraborty, in the aftermath of actor Sushant Singh Rajput’s demise. Like vultures circling overhead, the media capitalized on the tragedy, turning Chakraborty’s every move into a spectacle for public consumption. Intent on maximizing viewership and revenue, reducing complex human experiences to headlines and voyeuristic spectacles.
In both instances, reel and real, the media’s voracious appetite for sensationalism and entertainment trampled upon the dignity and privacy of those caught in the spotlight, underscoring the unsettling parallels between these disparate events.
Both films, inspired by real events, underscore the daunting reality faced by journalists who often find themselves compelled to fill the void left by a corrupt, inept, or complicit system. In such circumstances, it falls upon the journalist to deliver justice, a task that deviates from their primary role of merely reporting the facts.
Conversely, films like Bhakshak, Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani, No One Killed Jessica (2011) or to some extent even Ram Gopal Verma’s Rann (2010) have defied the established norms of this media spectacle, endeavoring to unearth the genuine truth amidst the clamor. These films exemplify the courageous resistance of the profession, offering a compelling narrative of individuals striving to uphold integrity in the face of media distortion.
In Raj Kumar Gupta’s gripping No One Killed Jessica, featuring powerhouse performances by Vidya Balan and Rani Mukerji, the latter portrays a journalist thrust into a dual role. Not only does she strive to unearth and report the truth, but she also finds herself compelled to conduct investigations akin to law enforcement who have come up short. This echoes the narrative arc of Pednekar’s Vaishali in Bhakshak, where the protagonist assumes the responsibilities of both reporter and investigator in pursuit of justice.
Both films, inspired by real events, underscore the daunting reality faced by journalists who often find themselves compelled to fill the void left by a corrupt, inept, or complicit system. In such circumstances, it falls upon the journalist to deliver justice, a task that deviates from their primary role of merely reporting the facts. These narratives poignantly highlight the blurred lines between journalism and activism, showcasing the profound impact individuals within the media can have in the pursuit of truth and accountability.
However, as noble as that may be, films like Bhakshak place the onus on the media to do the heavy-lifting. While the impulse to hold the media accountable for its actions is undoubtedly required, it also establishes a perilous precedent. This pattern often results in audiences directing their scrutiny solely towards the media, neglecting to question the broader systemic issues at play—the very system, authorities, and government entities that wield influence over and exploit the media.
By fixating solely on media culpability, there’s a risk of overlooking the larger structural flaws and power imbalances inherent within society. This myopic focus can inadvertently shield those in positions of authority from the scrutiny they rightfully deserve. Rather than solely scrutinizing the messenger, it’s essential for audiences to delve deeper, questioning the systemic failures and holding all relevant actors accountable for their actions. Only through this holistic approach can meaningful change be achieved, fostering a more just and transparent society where accountability extends beyond media headlines, and manifests in real and tangible change.
In the realm of journalism depicted on the silver screen, one finds a pattern. While some films spotlight individuals driven by a thirst for fame and power, using journalism to satisfy personal ambitions, others shine a light on the dedicated storytellers committed to uncovering the harsh realities of our world. Across these cinematic portrayals, what remains constant is the moral quandaries that saturate the very air of bustling newsrooms. Through the lens of these films, audiences encounter a mosaic of diverse intellects, each bearing the weighty burden of immense responsibility and moral duty in the execution of their profession. Amidst this varied landscape, some rise to the occasion, while others falter under the weight of their choices.
In the climactic moment of Bhakshak, Vaishali breaks the fourth wall with a poignant monologue, challenging viewers to introspect on their diminishing empathy amidst societal apathy. It’s impossible not to draw parallels with real life. The haunting melody of “Shamil Hai” encapsulates this shared responsibility born out of our indifference, serving as a stark reminder that, whether we acknowledge it or now, we’re all entangled in this web of turmoil.
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Takshi Mehta is a film and culture journalist. She loves storytelling in every manner, and her love for it aligns perfectly with Robin Williams’ sentiment that “poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for” (just add cinema to the list). You can find her on Instagram: @takshimehta and Twitter: @takshimehta.
