In celluloid

A few minutes before noon,the rusty gates outside the cinema halls lining Grant Road reluctantly creak open and a cluster of humanity strolls in,proving that the paint of these single screens might be peeling off,the plastic chairs might give you cramp in your posterior and each stamp of your foot might cause the dust sheathing the floor to billow in an angry cloud but the celluloid heroes housed in these halls have lost none of their glamour. They continue to enthrall with their shiny pistols,bell bottom pants,debonair sideburns and triumphant love affairs.

When this part of the city became a haven for casual labourers from different parts of the country,the bazaar culture was born. Shrines of various faiths took root and prostitutes were welcomed. In 1895,an area was demarcated by the civic authority as entertainment zone and there sprouted the numerous theatres that dot Grant Road.

The cinemas live in a time-warped zone,reveling in the golden age of Hindi cinema,cheerfully oblivious to the porcelain beauty of Katrina Kaif and the tabloid fascination with Abhi-Ash. “We cannot afford new films,” says BP Singh,manager of Nishat Cinema. “Our tickets cost Rs 25. That’s what the labourers who live in this area can afford.”

But in the era of multiplexes,Singh admits they’re facing the heat. “We don’t make a profit. We don’t make a loss. We simply exist,” he says. Not so lucky was Nishat’s compatriot,Taj Talkies,which was demolished 10 years ago. The only mark of its existence is a pile of debris that remains littered in the area. Alexandra Cinema managed to keep its head above water for eight more years before going under.

Also an off-shoot of this cinema culture that is gasping for breath is banner art that hoisted to fame many like MF Husain. Flagging viewers from their privileged vantage points are yester-year stars restored to their previous glory by a handful of banner artists who haven’t drowned in the sea of mass produced,computer print out publicity banners. Yet.