Parallel’s Pioneer

Indian cinema lost one of its brightest stars with the passing of Shyam Benegal. Benegal’s oeuvre transformed Hindi cinema in ways few others have. His enduring legacy is etched not just in the films he created but in the fundamental shift he spearheaded in pioneering a movement that placed substance over spectacle, intellect over glamour and humanity over melodrama.

Benegal’s career began in advertising, but it was with Ankur in 1973 that he transitioned to the silver screen, marking the dawn of India’s parallel cinema. This was not just a movement but a revolution, born in the shadow of Bollywood’s extravagant musicals. His films championed authenticity and realism, shedding light on themes of rural distress, caste dynamics and gender oppression.

Without Benegal, Indian cinema would lack its critical conscience. He provided an alternative to Bollywood’s escapism, making space for narratives that demand engagement rather than passive consumption. He taught filmmakers to trust their audiences with complexity proving that films could entertain and enlighten.

Benegal’s ability to unearth raw talent became one of his hallmarks. Smita Patil, Girish Karnad and Naseeruddin Shah owed their careers to his discerning eye. His genius lay in transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary. Few could capture the muted pain of Lakshmi in Ankur or the moral dilemmas of a brothel’s matriarch in Mandi with such poignancy.

Benegal’s films were not mere stories but statements. Manthan, inspired by Verghese Kurien’s milk cooperative movement, was crowdfunded by half a million farmers - a cinematic embodiment of grassroots democracy. Nishant explored the brutality of feudal oppression while Kalyug transplanted the Mahabharata into the corporate boardroom, revealing how ancient themes of greed and power find modern resonance. With Bhumika, Benegal painted a layered portrait of a woman trapped in the gilded cage of stardom, her life dissected with empathy and unflinching realism.

Benegal was a master of collaboration, assembling teams as erudite as his scripts. Vijay Tendulkar, Ruskin Bond and Girish Karnad lent their pens to his screenplays; Vanraj Bhatia composed haunting scores; and Govind Nihalani’s cinematography captured naturalistic textures that elevated the narrative.

His contributions to television were equally groundbreaking. His magnum opus, Bharat Ek Khoj, adapted Jawaharlal Nehru’s Discovery of India into 53 episodes of cultural introspection, blending drama and documentary. In Samvidhaan, he chronicled the making of India’s Constitution with the gravitas and clarity befitting its subject. These works are not merely entertainment but educational treasures, illuminating the complexities of India’s identity. As India grapples with a film industry increasingly seduced by bombast and spectacle, Benegal’s work serves as a clarion call. His films remind us of the art form’s potential to provoke, educate and inspire. His stories, grounded in Indian soil yet universal in their reach, challenge us to reflect on the world as it is - and imagine what it could be.