He followed this up with Black, which, arguably made audiences cry more than any other film in the history of Indian — or perhaps world — cinema. No mention was made of the fact that the first half of the film was a close copy of the Hollywood film The Miracle Worker about Helen Keller’s early education, that Amitabh Bachchan as the teacher beats a deaf-mute-blind little girl into submission, and one awful piece of dialogue that gives it all away, Bachchan telling the girl’s despairing parents: “She’s not a RETARD for god’s sake, she’s just deaf-mute and blind!” The use of a word that no person of any sensitivity, let alone a child therapist, will ever utter, indicated to me that Bhansali has no true empathy for or understanding of people with special needs; he’s selected the story only for maximum emotional manipulation of his audience.

But, whatever one’s opinions, this Friday will see the Bollywood juggernaut at its most calculated, brutal and heaviest. There will be no recourse, no escape, no prisoners. The bombing will be carpet, blanket, and any other home accessories you can think of. Maybe you’ll run, but you won’t be able to hide. They’ll come for you and take you away and hoist you onto your seats in the dark hall, and serve you the bill. This is all stuff that is above good and evil, lights years from the aesthetic judgement space, too big to be ignored, avoided, evaded. Welcome, as they sang, to the Machine. You didn’t like the films? Too bad, the Machine is fatter, richer, and even more pleased than before. Don’t jump, that was just the sound of the Machine belching.

... contd.