Is Anurag Kashyap a Bollywood nationalist now?

Bollywood's biggest rebel has a new complaint: not enough screens. But when did the man who fought entitlement start sounding like he is owed one? Here's more on the curious case of Bandar and Anurag Kashyap's most twisty argument yet.

In Short

• Anurag Kashyap's film Bandar failed at box office
• Kashyap blamed the failure on fewer screens given to Bandar versus US film Obsession
• He shifted narrative to 'our cinema' versus 'their cinema'

Filmmaker Anurag Kashyap's Bandar, released a few days ago, failed to make any impact at the box office. Then again, like many things that have changed in the post-Covid world, film reception is one of them. Let's be honest - nobody really knows what works anymore. There is no formula, no guaranteed audience and certainly no foolproof marketing strategy. A film can arrive with enormous hype and collapse within days, while another can emerge from nowhere and become a phenomenon.

Which is exactly why the reaction to Bandar's failure has been far more interesting than the failure itself.

Instead of accepting that audiences simply did not connect with the film, Kashyap chose a different explanation. He argued that Bandar suffered because it received fewer screens than a short American film called Obsession. And from there, the conversation took a familiar turn. Suddenly, it wasn't about a film failing. It became about "our cinema" versus "their cinema".

"I totally understand that everyone wants to see Obsession, but it can still run longer with lesser shows. If we don't prioritise our own films with better showcasing, then I don't understand how will we grow?" he said.

Now look, under ordinary circumstances, that might sound like a harmless appeal to support local cinema. Fair enough. Except it becomes considerably more amusing when it comes from Anurag Kashyap.

Because for years, Kashyap positioned himself as Bollywood's biggest critic. He mocked its creative bankruptcy, criticised its obsession with profits and openly spoke about distancing himself from Mumbai because he believed the industry was creatively dying. Bollywood was rarely "his" industry when he was attacking it.

But suddenly, when one of his own films fails, Bollywood becomes "our cinema." Interesting.

The same system he spent years rejecting has now become something that needs protection. The same industry he repeatedly described as creatively exhausted is now being presented as a cultural cause worth defending.

One almost has to admire the flexibility. But more importantly, what exactly is the argument here?

That audiences should choose a film out of national duty? That exhibitors should sacrifice business logic and allocate screens based on geography rather than demand? That viewers should ignore what genuinely interests them and watch something simply because it was made closer to home? Because if that's not what Kashyap is saying, then what exactly is he saying?

If there is no problem with that argument, then there should be no problem with Shiv Sena demanding that jobs in Maharashtra go first to Maharashtrians, irrespective of who is actually better qualified. Think about it.

In fact, this isn't even the first U-turn. Not too long ago, Kashyap was speaking about leaving Mumbai and finding more creative freedom down South because Bollywood had become too obsessed with profits. Then he returned to direct a film headlined by Bobby Deol, arguably one of the hottest Bollywood stars in the business right now. That was one turn. Now, presenting himself as a defender of Hindi cinema because an American film received more screens than his own is another.

Listening to Kashyap argue that films like Bandar should have received more screens instead of Obsession, one can't help but wonder: has Bollywood's biggest rebel become a "Bollywood nationalist?"

Let's understand one thing. The audience owes filmmakers absolutely nothing.

You can spend years making a film. You can pour your heart into it. You can create what you genuinely believe is a Taj Mahal. And the audience can still look at it and say, "Sorry, not interested." They can find your Taj Mahal less shiny. They could even find it fake.

That is their right. That is the deal. Cinema is not a welfare scheme. A theatre is not a cultural rehabilitation centre. Screens are not distributed as charity. Exhibitors put films on screens because they want people to buy tickets. If audiences are showing up for Obsession and not showing up for Bandar, the exhibitor is responding to consumer behaviour, not committing an act of cultural betrayal. Simple maths.

In fact, the moment we start arguing that films deserve screens because of where they were made rather than whether people actually want to watch them, we enter dangerous territory. The logic begins to resemble every other form of protectionism and gatekeeping we usually criticise.

Now, Kashyap's frustration is understandable. Let's be honest, every filmmaker wants their film to find an audience. Every director feels disappointed when years of work fail to connect. There is nothing unusual about that. What is unusual, however, is turning audience rejection into a moral argument.

Because here's the thing: the audience did not boycott Bandar, they simply chose something else. There is a difference.

For most of his career, Anurag Kashyap was the outsider calling out the system. The rebel challenging accepted wisdom. The same rebel now sounds remarkably similar to the establishment figures he once spent years criticising. Even more interesting?

Kashyap's entire career was built on trusting audiences to make unconventional choices. He believed viewers were smart enough to discover films beyond the mainstream. He championed freedom of choice. He wanted audiences to think for themselves. It is also why he spent years arguing that the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC) should certify films, not dictate what viewers can or cannot watch through cuts and edits.

Now that same freedom has produced an outcome he doesn't like. But instead of gracefully accepting the feedback, he thinks the problem is the screens. This story, quite clearly, is about a filmmaker struggling to accept that people had every opportunity to watch his film, and they simply chose not to.

That is not discrimination. That is called the market. And you know what's the most ironic thing about all of this? That the man who spent years questioning entitlement is now asking for preference because a film belongs to "our cinema". If anything, that sounds like the most 'bandar' argument of all - swinging from one branch of convenience to another.

(Disclaimer: Views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the author)

- Ends