Our storytelling deficit
The paucity of our national narrative is due to our state’s and society’s failure to invest in trade of storytelling.
The writer is an Islamabad-based TV journalist and tweets @FarrukhKPitafi
The Pakistani entertainment industry has come a long way. From slow teleplays to the glitz and glamour of today, you can see how our screens have been transformed into a visual feast. But that is the true extent of it all. Finance is no more a pressing concern; the use of technology has made things aesthetically sound and production values have been revolutionised. But one crucial commodity has gone missing among all these convivialities: the craft of storytelling.
The tradition of storytelling has always been a strong influence in our society. From grandmothers telling us heartwarming tales of valour, to the candidate with the best personal story getting support and votes on Election Day, this tradition asserts itself in more ways than you can imagine. So why is it that today we are struggling in this vital area?
Don’t get it? Sure. Have you tried watching any Pakistani television serial or Lollywood movie of late? With a few admirable exceptions, you will hardly find any storyline anywhere. The poverty of a script is usually evident from the fact that commercial considerations make it an almost afterthought.
Let me cite a few examples. Recently, I had the opportunity to attend the premiere of Main Hoon Shahid Afridi. I must confess that I was expecting rather too much. For instance, I was expecting a decent storyline. While the movie had superior production values compared with what I have already seen in Pakistani cinema, it clearly did not deliver on this count. Later I learned that the story practically wrote itself after Shahid Afridi failed to play a major part in the movie as was originally planned.
I am not saying that formula movies don’t sell. They do. In fact, recently, Dhoom 3 did roaring business both at home and abroad. From the reviews that I have read in the Indian papers, this movie’s record-breaking success is enough to give you lifelong depression. Producing a movie with a distinct and creative storyline is akin to treating the viewers as infernal morons, an unforgivable sin in my opinion.
Back home, even our best minds have surrendered to a unique brand of formula stories. Just in case you have missed it, trust me, it is equally challenging to sit through Shoaib Mansoor’s two recent long and boring lectures that he insists on calling movies. There is no gainsaying that it certainly doesn’t hurt to have an opinion. But when as a film-maker or as a storyteller you forget your original responsibility towards the viewers and try to force-feed them your own views through custom-designed storylines, you can often appear to them as awfully patronising.
No, between the commercial attitude of throwing in a story after you have effectively procured all other ingredients you consider much more important, and using the story as a vehicle to perpetuate your strong views, lies an abandoned road meant for professional storytellers. People need dreams and something to talk about. A less snobbish attitude will give them value for their money and give you, in return, really happy customers.
The paucity of our national narrative is due to our state’s and society’s failure to invest in the trade of storytelling. Even in our universities, where you are taught to write critiques of English or Urdu classics in degree classes, it is impossible to find a single credit course on creative writing. This indifference to market needs is almost mind-numbing.
Stories are the best software that you can export. They have enough power to put a country on the intellectual map of the world. Sadly though, when you look at our television screens today, you find that television dramas, thus far, have taken a backseat. Likewise, when you visit a bookstall, you usually fail to find a good recent literary work by a Pakistani. When you ignore something as vital as storytelling, it is bound to exact revenge. This characteristic lack of imagination is the reason why after losing around 50,000 citizens in our fight against extremism, we have failed time and again to narrate the story of our sacrifices to the world.
Published in The Express Tribune, February 8th, 2014.
The tradition of storytelling has always been a strong influence in our society. From grandmothers telling us heartwarming tales of valour, to the candidate with the best personal story getting support and votes on Election Day, this tradition asserts itself in more ways than you can imagine. So why is it that today we are struggling in this vital area?
Don’t get it? Sure. Have you tried watching any Pakistani television serial or Lollywood movie of late? With a few admirable exceptions, you will hardly find any storyline anywhere. The poverty of a script is usually evident from the fact that commercial considerations make it an almost afterthought.
Let me cite a few examples. Recently, I had the opportunity to attend the premiere of Main Hoon Shahid Afridi. I must confess that I was expecting rather too much. For instance, I was expecting a decent storyline. While the movie had superior production values compared with what I have already seen in Pakistani cinema, it clearly did not deliver on this count. Later I learned that the story practically wrote itself after Shahid Afridi failed to play a major part in the movie as was originally planned.
I am not saying that formula movies don’t sell. They do. In fact, recently, Dhoom 3 did roaring business both at home and abroad. From the reviews that I have read in the Indian papers, this movie’s record-breaking success is enough to give you lifelong depression. Producing a movie with a distinct and creative storyline is akin to treating the viewers as infernal morons, an unforgivable sin in my opinion.
Back home, even our best minds have surrendered to a unique brand of formula stories. Just in case you have missed it, trust me, it is equally challenging to sit through Shoaib Mansoor’s two recent long and boring lectures that he insists on calling movies. There is no gainsaying that it certainly doesn’t hurt to have an opinion. But when as a film-maker or as a storyteller you forget your original responsibility towards the viewers and try to force-feed them your own views through custom-designed storylines, you can often appear to them as awfully patronising.
No, between the commercial attitude of throwing in a story after you have effectively procured all other ingredients you consider much more important, and using the story as a vehicle to perpetuate your strong views, lies an abandoned road meant for professional storytellers. People need dreams and something to talk about. A less snobbish attitude will give them value for their money and give you, in return, really happy customers.
The paucity of our national narrative is due to our state’s and society’s failure to invest in the trade of storytelling. Even in our universities, where you are taught to write critiques of English or Urdu classics in degree classes, it is impossible to find a single credit course on creative writing. This indifference to market needs is almost mind-numbing.
Stories are the best software that you can export. They have enough power to put a country on the intellectual map of the world. Sadly though, when you look at our television screens today, you find that television dramas, thus far, have taken a backseat. Likewise, when you visit a bookstall, you usually fail to find a good recent literary work by a Pakistani. When you ignore something as vital as storytelling, it is bound to exact revenge. This characteristic lack of imagination is the reason why after losing around 50,000 citizens in our fight against extremism, we have failed time and again to narrate the story of our sacrifices to the world.
Published in The Express Tribune, February 8th, 2014.