100 Years of Hindi Film History in 10 Movies

I put up a version of this post a couple of days ago, but then we all spitballed back and forth in the comments and ended up coming up with a few changes.  So this is the New Improved Better version of the post (original version, you can still view here).  This is to help sort of orient you to Indian film history.  A big accepted “classic” from each decade that will help you understand how the industry grew and changed.  I don’t promise that you will be able to find and watch each of them (the website indiancine.ma is a fantastic resource you might want to try), but you should at least be familiar with the titles of these films and what they meant.

1910s: Raja Harischandra (1913): A mythological telling the story of a king from the Ramayana.  The first Indian film, made by the first Indian director/producer Dadasaheb Phalke, father of Indian film.  It was an immediate massive success, leading to the founding of Phalke studios and a new industry in India.

The first narrative film of any kind was The Great Train Robbery only 10 years before this.  Raja Harischandra can easily stand next to any film from any country made in that same year.  It’s existence is a contradiction to the idea of Indian film as an “imitation” of any other industry.  It is its own industry, with its own artistic tradition and work methods and everything else.

1920s: A Throw of the Dice (1929):  Another mythological, telling the story of a prince from the Mahabharata.  The first big hit of Bombay Talkies, which was the first big professional studio in Bombay.  Directed by Franz Osten and funded by German money, but produced by an Indian couple who also starred, Devika Rani and Himanshu Rai.  The start of the professional studio era of Hindi film, a brief era, but one that had long ranging effects through all the many many artists trained at Bombay Talkies and by Devika Rani, the guiding force.

Devika Rani and Himanshu Rai were both trained in Europe, and brought a greater level of technical expertise to their films.  But I want to be clear, they were still making Indian films.  The training they received was a mixture of make-up lessons from Elizabeth Arden, a few months of acting training, and visiting film sets in Germany.  They took that mish-mosh of knowledge and turned it into something that would work in the Indian context, in mythologicals with grand stories and big stars.

1930s: Jeevan Naiya (1936):  A Bombay Talkies picture and one that marked the beginning of the Star system in Hindi film.  It launched Ashok Kumar, Hindi films first Star.  From then on, rather than everyone in the studio pulling together equally, the Star was something special, something extra, and everyone else followed his lead.  Within ten years, Ashok was unofficially running Bombay Talkies.

Bombay Talkies began as essentially a film factory.  You had a salary and you came to work every day and learned what they wanted you to learn, whether you were an editor or an actor.  Everyone was equal.  Once Ashok took off, the system began to change, not that the stars had to work less than everyone else, but that they had to work much more.  A star was also a part-time director, producer, editor, writer.  The connective tissue that held all the elements of a film together and made sure all artists on it were working towards the same goal.  As the in house Star, Ashok slowly took over the running of Bombay Talkies, and eventually brought it to the new era as a star-based Banner, not a studio based around turning out films at regular intervals.

1940s: Sikander (1941): Hard to pick a film for this era.  I went with Sikander because it is a good example of the ambition of Indian film in this era, and the patriotism.  A historical film about Sikander and King Porus, it also includes a barely veiled message to Indian soldiers to mutiny and refuse to fight for their British commanders.  It was blacklisted for a while by the British Army, not allowed to be shown to the soldiers.  Stars Prithviraj Kapoor, the second Star of Hindi film and founder of the Kapoor Family.

Sikander was also part of the new type of film.  Produced by Sohran Modi who also starred and directed.  It was made by people who were only together for this one film, not a factory system churning out film after film.  And then they dispersed.

1950s: Awara (1951): The 1950s are generally considered the Golden Era of Indian film, and this is the film that set that off.  An RK Studios film, the first massive blockbuster hit of Hindi film.  And also the first massive international hit, hugely popular all over the world, especially in Russia.  A prime example of such features of Indian film as the childhood flashback, the fantasy song, and the childhood love story.  And the all time top romantic couple of Indian film, Raj Kapoor and Nargis.

After Awara, Raj Kapoor was the King of Hindi film.  And remained the King for, well, ever!  He invented many of the elements that are now considered common in Indian film.  And he was a passionate visionary, opening up a beautiful new world for the audience, the world of Hindi film that we all still live in.

1960s: Teesri Manzil (1966):  A silly happy romance wrapped in a murder mystery and topped with rock and roll influenced hit songs.  The 60s were the era of Shammi Kapoor, of young love and escapism, without the social message the filled the films of the 1950s.

By the 1960s, the Star System was firmly in place.  Films were developed around particular lead actors more than anything else, and those lead actors added their own unique touch.  Teesri Manzil was, and is, a beloved movie not because of the director Vijay Anand or writer Nasir Hussain, or even the RD Burman soundtrack, but because of Shammi.

1970s: Deewar (1974):  This is the film that defined a generation, a country, everything.  The anger of the young post-colonial man, who feels like the promise of freedom has been taken from him, like the world has turned against him and he must fight back by fair means or foul.  Deewar literally looms large in Bombay, two massive fan murals of the hero Amitabh Bachchan dominate the Bandra neighborhood where Amitabh lives.  The dialogues, the images, the stars, the are ingrained in the Indian psyche in the way no other film is (except Sholay).

Written by the writing duo Salim-Javed (Salim Khan, father of Salman Khan, and Javed Akhtar, father of Farhan and Zoya Akhtar), and directed by Yash Chopra.  Besides Amitabh it features a packed cast of Parveen Babi, Raakhee, Neetu, and of course Shashi Kapoor.  It caused a seismic shift in the film industry, no more would there be superficial romances and happy rich people, now we would see the gritty reality of the streets, lead by the angry lowerclass young man of Amitabh Bachchan.  Ironic, considering Amitabh himself had an extremely upperclass (although not wealthy) upbringing.

1980s: Arth (1982): This is an example of what is called “parallel cinema”.  That is, the industry that grew up parallel to the mainstream industry.  The 1980s were the golden age of this cinema.  The Indian Institute of Film and Television was cranking out a series of brilliant graduates, who were uninterested in the smash-bash Disco music style film that was being made by the mainstream industry.  And so they made films like this one, with no true song sequences and a plot (about a marriage falling apart) that was very uncommercial.

These films never made much box office, but they found an audience on TV and the home video market.  And, more importantly, the influenced young artists watching them.  The parallel cinema during this time kept people connected to Hindi film who might have otherwise drifted away.


1990s: Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995): The longest running film in the history of Hindi film, 22 years and counting.  It declared a new era of Indian film, an era when the films would actively look beyond Indian shores.  Our hero and heroine were born and brought up abroad, a first.  And it played all over the world, and played shockingly well.  Theaters in LA had to add a 5th showtime at 3am (to go with their 3pm, 6pm, 9pm, and midnight shows) because the crowds filled the lobby demanding tickets.

It declared a new era of production as well.  The young people were taking over.  Aditya Chopra, the director, was not yet 25 and soon after took over his father’s studio and turned it into the first fully vertically integrated studio in India.  Manish Malhotra did the costumes, he is now the most powerful designer in India.  Karan Johar was assistant director, went on to found his own studio and make his own successful films.  Farah Khan did the most popular song, became the biggest choreographer in India and a successful director in her own right.  And so on and so forth.  The most obvious change was the arrival of the star Shahrukh Khan, the international face of Hindi film from then on.

2000s: 3 Idiots (2009): A tragicomedy about life at an engineering college, the stresses and joys and jokes of it all.  It broke box office records that seemingly could never be broken, starting a new era of massive profits (and massive budgets).  It also broke through in the international market in a way that had never been seen before, suddenly Indian film was “mainstream” in a new way, appearing in the top 10 lists of box offices around the world.

Most importantly, it announced a new kind of film, the starless star vehicle.  Aamir Khan was the guiding force behind this film in many ways, designing the promotions and getting in the audience based on his name, not to mention pulling off the role in a way that demanded his particular level of talent and charisma.  But the film itself became what people came in for, the comic set pieces and non-threatening message and relatable version of India.  And the corporate backing, the first big hit of Reliance Entertainment India, but not the last, it proved that a big budget up front followed by a big release and promotion could ensure big profits.



There were some films that are hugely important, but don’t really represent the time they were released, or any time at all.  The float above film history, a goal filmmakers of all eras try to touch and cannot reach.  Timeless Films.

SholayThe Perfect Movie.  The perfect cast, the perfect script, the perfect sound, the perfect wide screen frame, the perfect stunt coordinators, the perfect songs.  There is not one moment that you can imagine being different in anyway, let alone improved upon.

Mughal-E-Azam: the Biggest movie.  Took years to make, to build the sets and coordinate the fight scenes and bring together the best possible cast.  And told the biggest story in Indian history, the biggest emperor and the biggest battle and the biggest love, and told it with a size that did it justice.

Pyaasa: Guru Dutt was the touched-by-God martyr and genius of Indian film.  He brought moving pictures from entertainment to art and then to something more than that, something almost Holy.

Kaagaz Ke Phool: Guru Dutt again.  While Pyaasa was a pure discussion of art and artist, Kaagaz Ke Phool is a love letter to film and the transitory nature of this particular art form.

Saheb Bibi Aur Ghulam:  Dutt’s 3rd masterpiece.  Debate rages over whether he ghost-directed it or not, I land firmly on the “yes, obviously he was the real director” side of things.  There’s a certain sensitivity to the underdog, the tormented unhappy ones, which only Dutt can bring.

Guide: Dev Anand took Guru Dutt and put him in color with this film.  It’s big and beautiful, but also sensitive and deep, and yes, Holy.

Devdas (1955):  A story told over and over again, but this is the classic most important version, against which all others are measured.  A forgotten man slipping in to drink, a fallen woman who finds her sense of worth again, and an unnoticed young matron with a love hidden inside.  This is the film that captured the real tragedy of it all.

Pakeezah:  The great female film of Hindi film (tied with the next one).  The story of a “Tawaif”, a dancing girl born in to brothels and how she slowly discovers a faith in herself and in love that lets herself choose a different life.  Plus the last great performance of Meena Kumari, who was literally dying onscreen and passed away as the film released (see also, Madhubala in Mughal-E-Azam)

Mother India: An interesting pair with Pakeezah.  The story of a noble farm woman, trapped in her position as wife and then mother, who carries the whole of her community on her long-suffering back.

Hum Aapke Hain Koun: A different kind of film, different from the films that were coming out at the same time, and different from anything before or after it too.  A film with over a dozen songs, a massive cast, and a plot that never really left one household.  It creates an almost dreamlike experience, you enter this world completely and feel like it will never end.

Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro: The great cynical angry dark comedy of Indian film.  And it’s funny too!  Takes on history, religion, politics, media, everything.  As relevant today as when it was released.

7 thoughts on “100 Years of Hindi Film History in 10 Movies

  1. Pingback: Starter Kit Posts Index | dontcallitbollywood

  2. Pingback: Hindi Film 101 Index | dontcallitbollywood

  3. I approve the’80s rewrite 😀
    I especially like this line “The parallel cinema during this time kept people connected to Hindi film who might have otherwise drifted away.” This is so so true. The generation that came of age in the 80s did completely abandon mainstream Indian pop culture – films, music, even fashion – in favour of western or indian ethno-classical equivalents. But parallel cinema was the exception, it was not only interesting but intriguing in that it lent a sense of hope and promise for the future of the industry and the artform. Even if you thought parallel films were boring, you still felt they were laying the groundwork for something better to come.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Occasionally you hear things like Pankuj Kapur or Naseerji or Shabana has abandoned their roots to do mainstream trash. But if you watch their old stuff, and then their new stuff, it’s not that they have moved in a trashier direction, it’s that mainstream films now are so much higher quality that the same wonderful performances that fit in the Parallel industry in the 80s now fit in the mainstream.

      On Thu, Dec 7, 2017 at 2:29 PM, dontcallitbollywood wrote:



      • I completely agree with this!

        Also I thought I’d add 2 points.

        First, it was my understanding at the time that it was called Parallel cinema and not Art cinema because they were attempting to forge a middle “parallel” path between mainstream and art. They were saying “we aren’t Bollywood, but we aren’t Satyajit Ray either. Instead we are trying to ‘elevate the conversation’ but in a fresh and accessible way”.

        Second, while I think it’s more about the movement than about any one movie in particular, Aarth stands out because it was itself a mainstream cultural “moment”. The twist at the end made everyone sit up and take notice, it was the reason you went to watch or rent the film, and it was an empowering moment in Indian feminism.

        [SPOILER] Twist = Kulbarshan asks to come back to Shabana after his affair is over. So Shabana asks if the tables were turned and she had cheated on him, would he accept her back. When he admits that he wouldn’t, she shuts the door on him. The idea that male infidelity should be deemed just as unacceptable as female infidelity found resonance with modern India.


        • For me, that wasn’t the most surprising and refreshing part of the Arth ending. The part I liked wasn’t just surprising for Indian culture, but for any film from anywhere.

          SPOILER That Shabana didn’t pursue any romance at all. There was that nice sympathetic young man who clearly liked her and vice versa, and at the end he made some sort of subtle offer, and she turned him down. She didn’t want her husband back, and she didn’t want a new husband, she just wanted an independent life where she was her own support. It’s a movie where the “Happy Ending” isn’t a lovers embrace, but a mother and daughter. Very different!

          On Thu, Dec 7, 2017 at 3:08 PM, dontcallitbollywood wrote:



      • Thanks to these films, indian social history could be captured in a way that mainstream films just weren’t interested in capturing.

        The village from Sholey literally doesn’t exist. But the homes and people from these parallel films did. In every town. Sure, they didn’t necessarily try to capture the social history of the Indian small town life or the village life but they did capture the middle class and the upper middle class and the officer class.

        And they got the details right. The dress and the home interiors and the manner of speaking and how the heroines carried themselves and how the heroes spoke.

        Saeed Jaffery with the kurta, pajama. Shawl and kolhapuri chappal is literally all our dads (us the officer class kids at least)

        Shabana with her impeccably sophisticated sarees and her trendy hair is all our moms.

        You see masoom and that’s exactly how we got dressed as kids.

        Mainstream indian film glamorises our social reality. Which is unfair to us.

        To an extent, the off-meanstream films today are doing the same thing. Except they’re telling stories relevant to the lower end of the middle class.

        That’s why, to me, the parallel cinema of the 80s is so precious.

        I don’t know if you covered Jagjit Singh and Ghulam Ali in the songs post or not but they’re the classics for our class.


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