I am opposed to censorship, as I am to any form of priesthood. The idea that there is a supreme body that will decide what will be disseminated among the laity, that this body is acting in the interests of the laity, is misguided, offensive, and entirely undemocratic. The censor chief justifies the cuts asked for in Elizabeth by saying ``we've just cut a few small scenes, pruned a bit. Tell me, is this enough to create a hue and cry?'' Be thankful for small mercies. But the problem lies not with the individuals, who are stuck executing antiquated guidelines. Rather it is theinstitution that is a product of an entirely archaic ideology that has thankfully sunk into obsolescence in most parts of the world.

But there is a second, more democratic, or should I say commercial, form of censorship that exists in this country. It takes place on the level of exhibitors, the cinemas where films are shown. It has two forms, additive and subtractive, and only one reason to bring the audiences in, and to stop them from walking out.

The more common form is the subtractive. On the weekend of the film's release, the exhibitor's judge the audience's response to the film, and in places where they see it sagging (more people heading out for cigarette breaks per minute), they literally take scissors to celluloid and hack off those offending bits. The golden rule to this form of censorship is to make these cuts at the latest by Sunday. The logic to this being that if by the weekend the film has not been doctored to suitably improve audience reaction, too many people will go out giving it thewrong word-of-mouth report, and the film will not be able to sustain its run through the week.

Sometimes this takes place in a more organized fashion, when the distributors and exhibitors immediately send a disappointing or confusing report back to the producer. Then, as happened recently in the case of films like Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam and Mann, the director himself suggested where the cuts could be made, and these were executed nationwide.

The additive form has two variations. The first is restricted to the low budget sex/horror genre, films like Purani Kabr Mein Khooni Saaya, Divine Bandit Lovers, etc. Films like this shoot raunchy scenes that the honourable CBFC would never allow through, so instead they ship these sexy bits directly to the exhibitors (separate from the certified film), who then attach them at various points (I believe the discretion for where they add them is left up to them) to the CBFC-approved, sanitized original. Neat trick.

The other is for the hit Hindi films, to lure in therepeat audience to get that silver jubilee feeling. This almost always involves the addition of a song that had been kept out of the original because of length restrictions. It is then advertised ``Now with added attraction.'' The cuts having apparently worked wonders for HDDCS, it was time to add the song Chand Chupa Hai, to extend its run further. This is the complex case of ``less, then more.''

I say this type of censorship is democratic because it is entirely a result of public response. This is not necessarily good, merely democratic, a reflection of the majority opinion. Democratic does not mean ideal. One only has to remember that India is a democracy to see this.

But maybe we should bring on board more exhibitors into the screenwriting process if not as writers, then perhaps as expert script doctors. It is far cheaper to cut out pages from a script, and far too painful to see expensive footage slashed in the cinemas with no regard for editing, story continuity or the massive effort that went intoshooting it. And perhaps leave just enough extra for the blessed CBFC to ``prune it a bit'' and sanitize it for our innocent, virginal eyes and ears.