Ive lost count of the number of times Ive been asked by an anxious parent: Can I take my child to this movie? The question popped up again a few days back. The film in question was Stanley Ka Dabba,which packed a delightful punch in its myriad boxes,made up of little boys,quirky teachers,and bursting tiffins. It told a story, and it was done with feeling. One of the best things about the film,I told the mother of two little boys,is that it doesnt patronise its potential audience. It treats them with respect. Do you know a single child who likes being talked down to? Show me one and Ill show you the perfect Bollywood moppet. There isnt one. Wait,I should modify that. There are so few that when children spring up,real and snot-nosed and sparkly-bright,you feel like celebrating. Director Amole Gupte has made a film that makes you feel like cheering. It gives you children you can relate to,and recognise. Not grit your teeth and wish away. There are so many annoying fake kids floating about in our movies that Im not even going there. Im going to dredge up a couple,personal favourites whove given me joy,just as Stanley has done. Just this past week,I revisited Satyajit Rays Teen Kanya,and fell in love all over again with the little girl in the first segment of the three-part film,The Postmaster. She is the one who shows a grown man the way to negotiate uncharted paths. She has a clear-eyed,merciless innocence,which his inadequacies come up against. That little girl breaks my heart every time I think of her. So many of Rays children were so magical,and thats why you remember them with such abiding fondness. In films that are created,not in the storytellers imagination,but in studios that encourage assembly-line visions,the child gets fractured. She becomes a set of clothes,and mannerisms,pulled out to be cutesy,seen and heard not as part of the natural fabric of the film,but as just another element to elicit brand endorsements. Remember the carefully colour-co-ordinated tykes from such films as Ta Ra Rum Pum and Thoda Pyaar Thoda Magic ? Given the frequency with which I am asked the is-this-film-okay-for-my-child question,I consider this my bounden duty,this being able to offer people suggestions why their offspring could partake of a film without being assaulted by inappropriate content,or a thread in seemingly appropriate content that sneaks up on you without warning. This used to be much easier when there was not so much to see,when movies were only in theatres or in other designated places where movies ought to be. Now films are all around us,in surround vision,in 360-degree ways: how do you escape something you may not want children to see? One of the ways of doing it is to not let films be your childrens nanny. If you dump kids,still at an impressionable stage,to the mercies of a film they havent learnt to read,you deserve everything you get. The only other way is to get them to see a film that you can also see,with equal engagement: this is something a perfect childrens film provides,this reaching out to the rest of us,those of us who may have pushed past adolescence,or entered a tentative adulthood. Or have welcomed that stage where life experiences can be shared by those willing to listen. Only the best sort of films qualify for unqualified recommendation. Which adult has been able to resist The Wizard of Oz? Or ET? Or The Sound of Music? Or Kabuliwala? Or Mr India? Or Makdee? Films for children need not be relentlessly cheery,or cheesy: the little boy who sings Chalo chalein maa,sapnon ke gaaon mein from the classic Jagriti (1954) was a wonderful character,created with empathy. Cloying pathos became an integral part of the movie moppet only when Hindi cinema turned into Bollywood. Its not that Hollywood is more successful than Bollywood with its childrens classics: its just that theyve had more practice with putting fun and adventure and excitement right on top of their to-do list. Our so-called childrens films usually have to fulfill criteria that some mothballed adults running the Childrens Film Society of India want adherence to. Movies that get funded are those that are moral science lessons,dull and preachy and plain awful. The much more recent desi-superhero movie Zokkomon also falls into this bracket,because it is derivative and dreary. Stanley,on the other hand,is neither. He is my hero. shubhra.gupta@expressindia.com
