



In the gritty underbelly of 1970s Mumbai, the father of Vijay and Ravi, a principled union leader is killed after being branded a traitor. Left to fend for themselves, their mother flees away with her two sons and works tirelessly to raise them. The two brothers, raised under the same roof and by the same mother, grow up to become distinct individuals.
Ravi, the younger brother, grows up righteous, joins the police, and takes an oath to uphold the country’s law. Vijay, hardened by trauma, rises through the ranks of the criminal underworld, driven by rage and a burning desire to give his mother the life she deserves. He becomes rich and powerful — but at the cost of the thing he was working for this entire time: his mother’s solace. As tension mounts, blood ties are tested. One fights to eliminate crime from the bustling city of Mumbai, while the other breaks all laws to become a Mafia boss.
Yash Chopra crafted this film in 1975. The story of a quintessential movie in Hindi cinema called Deewar (Wall).
The broader audience has a tendency to perceive Bollywood as a pompous collection of bubbly music and extremely dramatic and emotional scenes. Although that might be true on a surface level, there is much more to Hindi cinema than that. The cake beneath the icing is just as sweet. While the songs and the stars undoubtedly make the movie, there is a lot more depth and substance behind the making of a motion picture than what meets the eye.
There are films of all kinds in Bollywood — commercial masala (spice) films and artistic films with hard-hitting social commentary.
Guru Dutt, a filmmaker who worked during what is considered the golden age of Hindi cinema (1948-1965), created a timeless film called ‘Pyaasa’ (Thirsty). Despite being made in 1957, it is fascinating to see how the issues explored in the film are still relevant in today’s society. The film is a poignant tale of a struggling poet in a society that values wealth and status over art, truth, and compassion. Vijay, the poet, is ignored and ridiculed until people think he’s dead — at which point, his work is suddenly celebrated.
It also talks about the divide between the rich and the poor, with the character of Gulabo (a sex worker), and the indifference of the upper class to their suffering. In another film he made, ‘Kaagaz Ke Phool’ (Flowers Of Paper) from 1959, he transports the audience behind the scenes of the Hindi film industry. The movie is set around a celebrated film director who rises to fame only to be discarded by the very industry that once revered him, as fame, love, and art crumble under the weight of ego and societal judgment.
And like Pyaasa, it’s also full of rich social commentary.
The movie’s poetry and cinematography complement each other perfectly, with character arcs that are both tear-jerking and emotionally jarring.
Farah Khan, a prominent Indian filmmaker, makes films that often blend nostalgia, drama, comedy, and music. In 2007 she made a movie that was a perfect blend of critical acclaim and box office success. Right in the middle of art and commerce stood Om Shanti Om, a satirical commentary on typical Bollywood clichés. A well-loved story even today, every aspect of the movie is just as evergreen and entertaining. One of the lip-sync songs in the movie, Dard-E-Disco (Disco Like Pain), written by Javed Akhtar, is one of the most heard songs in the history of Bollywood. However, the lyrics to the song, when examined, lack meaning. Just like most of the protagonist's entry scores in Bollywood movies. One of the verses in the song means:
What kind of passion was there in the union of dreams
What should I say, what was there in my youthful days
The fountain of sorrow was flowing, when the balloon of my dreams burst
That's why I now wander to London, Paris, New York, L.A., San Francisco
In my heart lies a disco like pain
Despite the lack of coherence among the words, music enthusiasts play it at every party and enjoy it just as much each time it is played. The irony behind this love for the movie is that the audience finds the subtle satire entertaining and enjoys it for the very same tropes it is trying to critique.
This duality — where the film is the best of both worlds, art and commerce — is what makes Bollywood so unique. It is a film industry that knows its audience deeply. It has the ability to make people laugh, cry, sing, dance, and think, sometimes all within the same film.
Some audiences may argue that Bollywood has had a pattern of relying too heavily on formula. But there’s been an art to that formula — a rhythm and a flair that is distinctly Indian. And within that framework, there is tremendous creativity. Directors like Sanjay Leela Bhansali, Vasan Bala, Zoya Akhtar, Vikramaditya Motwane, and many more have shown that there is room for nuance, experimentation, and innovation in this current day and age of Hindi cinema.
The concept of Bollywood is to serve something larger-than-life to the audiences. A quintessential Bollywood film has a typical arc for the protagonist, or as the watchers like to call them, the heroes. The point of this ‘hero’ concept is to give hope to a population desperately trying to uplift themselves from vulnerability and rooting for a rags-to-riches character development. Considering the amount of poverty the average Indian population faces in their daily lives, Bollywood movies come as a retreat and an escape from that reality. There are no Supermans, Batmans, or Spider-Mans in Bollywood; Vijay from Deewar, a common man, is their superhero.
That is the taste of Bollywood. Fantastical, flamboyant, and flavourful.
Even in films filled with unrealistic moments, there’s often a deeper message waiting to be uncovered. It reflects the aspirations and anxieties of over a billion people and gives them an escape from the mundanity of daily life. It’s loud because India is loud. It’s colorful because India is colorful. It dances because India dances through its chaos and celebration alike. Bollywood is not just a film industry, it is a heightened reflection of Indian society.



