Why releasing films with subtitles gives them wings Do you know what gave me a rollicking,laugh-out-loud time at the movies last week? A pesky little fly. That buzzed and flew,flew and buzzed,protecting a pretty girl,slaying a monster. That wore a nifty helmet,lifted weights,grew some muscles,and learned other smart tricks in order to go on a revenge spree. When Eega vanquished its enemy,I cheered,much as I would for Salman taking on 20 guys built like tankers. The best part of the experience was,apart from the film of course,that to catch the Telugu Eega,I didnt have to resort to a film festival where it would have been programmed (once) with other films of other languages,or an Andhra Bhawan type sarkari screening,or a stealthy download. I just went off to my neighbourhood multiplex,bought myself a ticket,and watched it in a theatre,crowded with enthusiasts like me. Over the years,there have been many occasions when I have sat through films which have been in neither Hindi nor English,the two languages I speak,think in and use. Thats a line of duty for people like me who watch movies for work. And,of course,pleasure. But its invariably been a diminished experience: if you cannot understand whats being spoken,you are missing out. Its like going to a foreign country where everyone is in on the joke,and youre left out in the cold. Its one thing to be deprived of dialogues in languages such as Finnish or Thai or Japanese: this has happened to me at film festivals. If the film is really good,the absence of speech (not sound: background music is background music in any language) can sometimes cause you to sink into a meditative space,where you are forced to pay attention only to the visuals. Ive spent time like this,imagining what the characters were saying,trying to connect the dots. Its been fine only some of the time,other times,its plain annoying especially when you go in expecting subtitles,and there are none. So then its all down to all right,read my lips,bud. One of my pet peeves,which I take out to air to anyone who will listen,is the difficulty in accessing films in different Indian languages. The only way you can do that is to religiously track which film festival is showing what,which isnt exactly as easy as walking into a ticketed,local theatre show of a Marathi or a Tamil film that has been gathering acclaim in its home state,or,and this is the irony,in film festivals out of the country. But I am happy to report that the past week has allowed me to catch films in different Indian languages because theyve been playing in theatres near me,with,hallelujah,subtitles. Eega was a blast. It used clever,witty animation to tell a simple story with verve. The majority of viewers around me,at the south Delhi multiplex,were Telugu speakers. But there were some like me,with little or no knowledge of the language,who were there for the pure fun of it,having been alerted to the film via print reviews and online raves. The very next day,I was watching Ajith do his stuff in Billa 2,a Tamil thriller,which uses all the familiar conventions of a cops-and-robbers story. Like Eega,its the kind of film which is not difficult to decipher: a biff-bang-thud in Tamil is the same as it is in Hindi. But the subtitles told me what Ajith was saying,and added to what he was doing. An unexpected hilarity was the literal translation of MS Subbulakshmis immortal rendition of the Suprabhatam: I wont spoil it for you,if you do plan to take in the English sub-version of Billas doings anytime soon. Yes,subtitles are distracting. Those constantly changing squiggles at the bottom of the screen do take away your attention when you should be watching what goes on,on the screen. But Im one of those who hates dubbed versions. Mismatched lip synch makes me break out in a rash. At least subtitles do not take away the cadence of a characters own voice,and sometimes listening to a language being spoken while you read what is being said can add layers to a film. A friend warned me not to catch the latest Bangla hit Bhooter Bhobhishyat with subs. She is Bengali and wanted me to savour all the puns and jokes of the original: my Bangla is rusty and not entirely serviceable. So I went ahead and did it anyway: that way I got more out of the movie than I would have if I had caught it without subtitles. It was a fun-fest,that film,with a bunch of lively ghosts making merry in a large old haveli,festooned with cobwebs. The increasing practice of releasing films with subs can only be a good thing: it gives a film legs. It makes it live longer. And it gives those of us who do not know the language a look-in on whats filling up theatres in other parts of the country. Distributors and exhibitors,are you listening? shubhra.gupta @expressindia.com
