The function of Bollywood in the UK: a cultural bonding of ethnic “cultural clusters”

Introduction: the central issues

There are dominant trends in the present-day world of academia willfully espousing and further promoting equally dominant trends in the world of the mass media that wish to argue that the phenomenon of Bollywood is yet another important dimension of “media globalization”. Both such academic and journalistic approaches would see this “media globalization” as a major force in the postmodern world that bonds people across the globe, whatever be their geographical location and despite their dissimilar cultural starting points. For them, Bollywood is one manifestation of what has come to be described as a “global village”.

One cannot deny that such “bonding” of people across the globe does point to a certain reality – the extensive use of the mobile phone, for instance, obviously attests to this. And yet, one may argue that superimposed upon this general reality there is one other, perhaps even more real [in the sense of concrete] reality, at least as regards the lives of particular individuals belonging to – or creating – specific socio-cultural environments. Such more real reality would water down the ramifications of “media globalization” and the supposed “global village” that it is said to have begotten. In fact, it could water it down to such an extent that what we would have left would be, not one “global village”, but rather an array of many “villages” across the world, each one of which would stand in noteworthy contradistinction to the other. And if that be so, the phenomenon of Bollywood could be said to be primarily bonding particular “villages” and particular localities of specific ethnic groups that are receptive to its own diegetic worldview [viz. that of “Indianness” – cf. Paper 4d with respect to this term]. A perfect example of this would be the case of those fairly well-defined “cultural clusters” evident in places such as East Ham and its environs in the Borough of Newham.

Such a superimposition of an array of localized concrete realities upon a more general global reality would mean that any idea of “media globalization” that discounts these concrete realities may be said to be a mere myth. In this Paper 4e, the first section of which adopts a slightly more theoretical approach to the phenomenon of Bollywood [as opposed to Paper 4d, which concentrated on the presentation of empirical data], we shall attempt to consider the myth of “media globalization” with respect to the concrete manifestation of Bollywood within the UK.

Our purpose in this paper is to show that so-called “globalization” – at least as regards the Bollywood phenomenon – is in fact materialized in the cultural reinforcement of any array of “villages” or localities that reflect their own ethno-cultural milieu. As such, “globalization” will be shown to be a very special type of localization, whereby the cultural products of a “globalizing” center – such as India – are reshaped according to the needs of a receiving periphery. In contrast to the idea of “media globalization”, in other words, we shall try to investigate the local reception of a genre such as Bollywood; and further, we shall try to investigate the localization of content of such genre. Both the form that such local reception takes, as also the localization of cultural content, will be shown to be determined by the “cultural clusters” defining a particular locality. Of course, the general implication would here be that, to the extent that there are cultural differences between “villages” or localities across the globe, there can be no such thing as a homogeneous world culture. And it would be in this sense that the idea of “media globalization” can be said to constitute a mere myth.

Such general implication, being what it is, would not only apply to the case of the UK and its localities. In the case of the latter, we shall need to delineate a relevant framework allowing us to grasp the operation of the Bollywood genre within a locality such as East Ham and its environs. To the extent that India’s Bollywood genre taps the UK as an overseas market, the phenomenon of Bollywood may be said to be a “global” product. On the other hand, and to the extent that such “globalized” product is manifested through a very special type of localization, we shall need to investigate how the Bollywood phenomenon is locally reconstructed within the localities of the UK – it is those very specific versions of such reconstruction that would define the cinemagoing practices of the “cultural clusters” of a region as is “Little India”.

The suggestion that the Bollywood phenomenon undergoes some sort of local reconstruction within a locality such as East Ham seems odd – and yet, and as we shall see below, much of the more rigorous literature on the issue draws precisely such conclusion. At first sight, at least, that type of conclusion seems to be somewhat counter-intuitive: how be it possible that a motion picture produced in India – and which is in itself a finished product – is in some manner “reconstructed” by a receiving public in East London? We shall attempt to explain this process of reconstruction by examining the very specific Bollywood themes that are meant to consciously target the needs of a locality such as East Ham, and which would also mean specific decisions taken by Bollywood producers as to the choice of location for the shooting of their films. As we shall see, typical Bollywood movies targeting Asian audiences in the UK systematically tap the needs of that diaspora, not only by reclaiming areas of London as “Asian space” in terms of thematic discourse, but actually reclaim such areas as real-world location shooting.

This practice of local reconstruction, however, has taken yet another form, and which is as critical as is that pertaining to choice of Bollywood thematic discourse: reconstruction has been further materialized through the very specific manner in which Bollywood movies have been actually watched in UK’s cinemas frequented by Asian ethnic “cultural clusters”. Empirical data presented in Paper 4d gave us vivid descriptions of the manner in which audiences of the Boleyn and Cineworld cinemas would actually enjoy the screening of a Bollywood film – above all, they would create an environment approximating that of an “Indian atmosphere”, and which would therefore allow them to interpret films in terms of their own diasporic psychological mindset. As we shall see below, the fact that Bollywood movies play almost exclusively to ethnic-based “cultural clusters” has meant that watching Bollywood films has been a very strong ethnically-coded practice – the sheer act of watching a Bollywood movie is ethnically marked as Asian. The practice is therefore conducive to the perpetual reproduction of a specific identity that reconstructs what is viewed in cinema theatres in terms of that very selfsame identity.

We shall proceed to argue that, to the extent that the Bollywood phenomenon is an ethnically marked practice in areas such as East Ham, it facilitates local cultural affiliations within particular “cultural clusters” – UK’s Bollywood exhibitions are therefore conducive to the cultural confirmation of such ethnic-based “cultural clusters”, and in that way bolster the ethnic-based cultural self-segregation of these “clusters”.

It shall be shown that this facilitation of local cultural affiliations – and which is tantamount to the bonding of “cultural clusters” – has been systematically materialized both in an Asian-owned cinema theatre such as that of the Boleyn, as also in a multiplex chain cinema as is that of Ilford’s Cineworld [empirical evidence presented in Paper 4d enabled us to fully verify the parallel lines according to which both these theatres have operated – at least as regards the strict ethnically-coded practices of the Boleyn venue as a whole and the equally strict ethnically-coded practices of some of the Cineworld’s screens].

Ultimately, it shall be shown that the findings presented in Paper 4d and those of published research work on the issue confirm each other to such an extent that they allow us to draw one absolutely critical conclusion – viz. that Bollywood cinemagoing practices in the UK are such as to demarcate a clear distance vis-à-vis those of the rest of UK’s “cultural clusters”, and especially so with respect to the cinemagoing practices of White Britons. In fact, we shall discover that the phenomenon of Bollywood as experienced in the Asian “cultural clusters” of East London operates as a conscious alternative to that of Hollywood – and one may go so far as to argue that there are dimensions of this experience which stand in a more or less conscious opposition to the Hollywoodian cultural worldview.

The idea of “media globalization” versus the reality of “many villages”

All of the suggestions presented above are of course somewhat impressionistic and need to be thrashed out more systematically. We may commence by dwelling on the so-called concept of “media globalization” and contrast it to the idea that much of “globalization” has in fact yielded a reality of “many villages” spread across the globe.

Lucia Krämer, whose work we have often referred to in Paper 4d [and which shall remain our central source of reference throughout this first section of Paper 4e], has undertaken a critical review of the literature on the phenomenon of Bollywood and especially as regards its relationship to the wider phenomenon of so-called “media globalization”. Amongst the variety of analysts that she examines is Kai Hafez, whose work has attempted to show why “media globalization” ought to be relegated to the status of a mere “myth” [cf. Paper 4d]. One of the central arguments developed by Hafez is that all such media – and which of course includes the Bollywood film industry – is permeated by ideological discourses that are not in fact “global” in the last instance. Persisting within all such media are dimensions of discourse that are expressive of non-global or even consciously anti-global forces. Hafez, of course, is certainly not alone in pursuing such an original line of thought, as is evident throughout much of Krämer’s study. Very importantly, Krämer observes that “the very notion of media globalization has been questioned. Hafez, for example, calls it a myth because of the lasting importance of local, regional and national dimensions in the development, politics and uses of media” [my emph.]. What is of special interest for our purposes is the reference to the idea of “uses of media”, in that it points to the manner in which a particular Bollywood movie can be put to “use” by socio-cultural forces that are rooted in a particular locality or region. These forces, further, may be connected to [and thus “used” by] wider “national” interests – such as those of a “cultural cluster’s” own homeland, which in the case of East Ham’s South Asian population would be India.

One suggestion here is that it would be impossible to understand the manner in which the Asian “cultural clusters” of “Little India” receive and “use” a Bollywood movie unless one places such “Little India” within the wider context of the Republic of India itself – it is the latter which constitutes what Krämer calls the “national framework”, and which is a cultural, ideological and psychological agency persistently hanging over the life of East London’s “Little India”. And thus Krämer argues that “Despite its transnational dissemination, the case of Indian mainstream cinema is indeed a healthy reminder of the persistence of these national frameworks” [my emph.]. This, however, is not meant to suggest that Asian East Hammers have been mere passive receptors of such “national framework” as emanating from India: they would themselves – and as persistently – “use” it to serve their own particular needs as a diasporic community settled in a fairly alien social environment. The basic point nonetheless is that what is a transnationally – or globally – disseminated genre of Indian cinema has not at all escaped certain salient elements of discourse defined by a specific national, cultural and linguistic character. In itself, this very reality flies in the face of so-called “media globalization”.

For analysts such as Hafez, the idea that the postmodern world has ushered in an era of a “globalized” homogeneous culture is no more than a fabricated reality. Such so-called homogeneity is ultimately fake – the world is in fact deeply split into discrete domains that may be isolated from, or can be even latently opposed to, one another, and it is within such context that the “Indianness” of Bollywood [as also the cinemagoing experiences of East Ham’s Indian audiences] should be placed. Krämer presents her own reading of the work of Hafez as follows – she writes: “For Hafez the media world therefore seems split into geo-linguistic spheres between which, he claims, there is not more but increasingly less exchange…” [my emph.]. Our own examination of cinemagoing practices in a region such as East Ham [as presented in Paper 4d] certainly does verify conclusions drawn by writers such as Hafez: we have clearly seen how audiences have been attracted to Bollywood movies on the basis of the particular Indo-Aryan vernacular used in scripts; and we have as clearly seen how non-Asians would not participate in the Bollywood cinema experience, it in any case being a heavily ethnically-coded practice. Both such observations suggest that the Bollywood phenomenon as practiced in the localities of the UK expresses a specific geo-linguistic sphere that rarely communicates with the rest of the country’s population [and thereby confirming the more general propositions posited by writers such as Hafez].

There is yet another writer on the issue of so-called “media globalization” who has also attempted to show the ideologically manufactured nature of such approach, and whose work has also been critically reviewed by Krämer. The work referred to here is that of U. Shavit, tellingly entitled The New Imagined Community: Global Media and the Construction of National and Muslim Identities of Migrants, Sussex Academic Press, Brighton, 2009. Krämer summarizes Shavit’s findings by quoting him as follows [and which certainly does encapsulate our own tentative critique of what has been designated as “globalization”]: “In terms of media consumption, it is not a global village that has been created by satellites and the internet, but rather many contesting national villages which operate on a global scale” [cf. U. Shavit, p. 50, emphasis in the original]. As is evident in this rather important quotation, Shavit wishes to focus his work on “media consumption” – viz. on the manner in which his “many contesting national villages” actually receive and localize the content of what are supposedly “global” products. And it is to such receptive localization of a phenomenon such as the Bollywood genre that one ought to focus if one wishes to grasp the particular manner in which concrete people situated in concrete localities actually interpret their experience of such genre’s supposedly “global” movies.

The local reception and the localization of content

Generally speaking, if one were to agree with the suggestion that the world is deeply split by a conglomeration of different cultural “villages”, then one would have no choice but focus one’s research work on how products emanating from “global” markets ultimately undergo what is a conspicuous process of receptive localization, whereby the specific reception and localization of a product’s content is determined by a “village” or locality that considers itself relatively split – or at least distinct – from other “villages”. For writers such as Hafez, a so-called “global” product would follow a course of relocation as demarcated by the ethnic contours of a particular split “village” whenever such product carries cultural or linguistic values related to such “village” – the case of Bollywood movies would here be an obvious example, given the content and language of such products. And so Hafez comes to the conclusion, as Krämer tells us, that “Cultural and linguistic differences affect the translocation of media products more strongly than the transmission of goods in other economic sectors”. This enables Hafez to show how a Bollywood movie exhibited in a locality such as East Ham preserves an ethnically-specific identity in contradistinction to other ethnic identities of the UK. While his observation regarding “media products” such as Bollywood must be accurate, it should nonetheless also be pointed out that what he implies about “goods in other economic sectors” remains problematic. While products such as food or clothes transmitted from India to the UK are of course not “media products”, they yet still carry values that can be as specific as those embedded in a Bollywood movie. Our investigation of ethnic-based eating habits in Paper 4b demonstrated that “culturally specific dishes” play as much a role in defining the “cultural clusters” of a local “village” as would a Bollywood film. Similarly, our investigation of ethnic-based attire in Paper 4c went on to show that a Salwar Kameez or a Saree carry ethnic, cultural and/or religious signifiers that define ethno-religious paradigms connecting “Little India” to the Republic of India. These observations are not meant as a side note – rather, we wish to assert that the Bollywood phenomenon is merely one dimension of life that carries values and signifiers which help bond ethnic-based “cultural clusters”. More than that, it is quite obvious that cinemagoing as a practice cannot possibly be easily equated to the far more humanly organic practices of eating or wearing clothes. In any case, let us simply say that all products and artefacts that function as the signifiers of one specific cultural “village” – be these “media products” or not – contribute to the ethnic or national identity of that “village”.

Theoretical contributions made by writers such as Hafez and other like-minded writers do not necessarily belong to marginal sociological trends in the world of academia. In fact, their work is part of a wider trend of thought that wishes to debunk the usual perceptions of “globalization” as a whole and which has yielded a series of so-called “diversity theories”. The latter expression, while itself ideologically-laden [both in academic papers and in the popular press], can nonetheless delineate a theoretical approach that wishes to break clean, not only with the idea of “globalization” per se, but with the very implications of such an idea. “Diversity” is here meant in the specific sense that “global” products are received and localized by consumers in different regions of the globe according to their specific needs and wishes – such products are not therefore “put to use” in any homogeneous manner. To the extent that there is this “diversity” in usage, the very notion of a global homogeneous culture breaks down – importantly, what also breaks down is whatever notion of some sort of global “cultural imperialism”. It is perhaps of some interest to note here that although many of these “diversity theories” emanate from Leftwing scholars, they have come to fully drop the old Marxian theories of “imperialism” articulated by writers such as Magdoff, Sweezy, Baran and others in the 1960’s. For the present-day theoreticians concerned with issues of “globalization” what really matters is the manner in which different localities and regions of the world insist on retaining their own ethno-cultural identities in the face of global market forces.

It is Lucia Krämer’s work that so aptly summarizes this new trend – firstly, and as she writes: “The assumption that media globalization is really cultural imperialism and that it will lead to one homogeneous world culture… clashes with (and has been largely superseded by) diversity theories that call attention to how cultural differences influence the reception of texts and to producer strategies of localizing media content” [my emph.]. Krämer’s reference to “cultural differences” obviously points to the different cultural worldviews of the type of “cultural clusters” that we come across in localities such as East Ham. Further, her reference to “texts” can – as it does – refer to the ideological discourse of films. The producers of Bollywood movies, aware of the specific cultural needs of such “cultural clusters” within the UK, adopt “producer strategies” that “localize” the content of movie discourse so as to satisfy the needs of their catchment area. In so doing, they confirm the heterogeneity of cultural values across the globe – but they thereby also consolidate and homogenize the ethno-cultural identities of “villages” belonging to a wider strand of identity as is that of “Indianness”.

Secondly, and making specific use of the work of Hafez, Krämer also draws the following general conclusion: “Hence, what is commonly termed the globalization of the media can, as Hafez suggests, be regarded more profitably as (g)localization and regionalization or conceived in terms of transnational and geo-cultural flows… where national frameworks retain the strongest influence on the production, dissemination and reception of media texts [or cinema discourse]” [my emph.]. It is within the context of this present-day process of “(g)localization” and/or “regionalization” that the ethno-national discourse determines the content of a Bollywood movie, and as that is received and interpreted in the cinema theatres of venues such as those of the Boleyn or Cineworld.

The case of the UK: a localization and/or local reconstruction of the Bollywood genre

We may now consider this general theoretical approach in its application to the UK, and which would further allow us to understand the manner of operation of cinemas located in and around East Ham, and which exhibit – or have exhibited – Bollywood films to their audiences. We have spoken above of the phenomenon of split villages that are said to have sprouted across the globe according to ethno-cultural lines. To the extent that this is an accurate description of the world in general, one would also have to speak of split “villages” operating within the UK itself – we have of course emphasized such a description of the socio-cultural life within the UK throughout this project, and have done so by using the term “cultural clusters”. Speaking of a split – or fragmented – cultural life within the UK would mean that the manner in which at least certain “global” products are received within the country would be reflective of such fragmentation [the fragmentation or heterogeneity, of course, would be describing how one “village” would be receiving a product in direct contrast to other “villages” elsewhere – but there would be a relatively tight homogeneity within a particular “village” itself]. Naturally, the phenomenon of fragmentation would apply to products that are in some way or other expressive of ethno-cultural paradigms – Bollywood’s “global” products would here be an obviously perfect case of that type of paradigm.

The fragmentation of the Bollywood phenomenon – in the sense explained above – is absolutely clear in the work of Lucia Krämer. When this writer undertakes her own presentation of Bollywood in the UK, she introduces her research project as follows: “This book will present the key features of the British version of the brand and several other discursive constructions of the ‘fundamentally fragmentary’… Bollywood phenomenon”. Krämer’s introductory remarks are instructive – she makes three salient points that tell us much about how [or why] the Bollywood genre operates in the UK in the way it does. To begin with, we are told that she will be discussing a specifically British phenomenon transmitted from India – the first and all too obvious implication is that India’s Bollywood product is of a “global” nature. While this in itself tells us what we all know, it nonetheless also raises a highly pertinent question: why is it that such product has been able to tap an overseas market such as that of the UK and done so successfully over a long period of time? Is there something special about this particular market? And if such exceptionality is due to the ethnographic composition of certain UK localities, what does this tell us about both the product as such and the sentiments of the localities that wish to consume it? Secondly, Krämer writes of a British version of the Bollywood product. This seems to confirm the idea of a (g)localized environment operating within the UK, wherein Bollywood’s overseas market is such as to reconstruct what it receives in terms of the needs of such (g)localization. That which is an apparently “global” phenomenon willy-nilly sublimates into a “local” experience. Finally, and which seems to confirm what has been said above regarding the reality of split “villages” and the impact of this on so-called “global” products, Krämer speaks explicitly of the “fundamentally fragmentary” nature of the Bollywood phenomenon.

In Paper 4d, we had briefly attempted to investigate when and why India’s Bollywood genre would come to permeate the UK, or at least certain localities of this country. We shall here further dwell on the matter, though our exclusive purpose in this case is to understand the nature of the Bollywood phenomenon as reconstructed in the UK’s Asian “cultural clusters”. We have seen that there has been a direct correlation between the resurgence of the Bollywood phenomenon in India – with its new emphasis on the ideology of “Indianness” – and a similar and contemporaneous revival of the same phenomenon within the UK. Krämer has informed us as follows: “The theatrical exhibition of Indian mainstream films in Britain was revived in the early 1990s, when the fact that the middle classes returned to the cinemas in India inspired Asian entrepreneurs in Britain to showcase successful Indian films” [my emph.].

As it so turned out, and as Krämer has observed, “one of Bollywood cinema’s most important overseas markets” would be that of the UK. Of course, the UK would not come to constitute the sole market for Bollywood – we know that catchment areas would also include communities in countries such as the USA and in regions such as that of the Middle East. The important fact here is that all such catchment areas would be characterized by one common denominator of central strategic importance – all would be defined by the heavy presence of South Asian diasporic communities. This special ethnographic composition would be something peculiar to the very nature of all these catchment areas, and which is evident in a locality such as that of UK’s East Ham region. While, therefore, India’s Bollywood industry would certainly be going absolutely “global” by the 1990’s, it would only [or mainly] be doing so within “villages” adhering to very specific ethno-cultural values, and which would in their own way be reflective of India’s national – and often even nationalistic – ideological framework.

Krämer confirms the assertion that it is ethnographic composition which has determined the popularity of the Bollywood phenomenon outside India – she notes: “One key element in the growth of Hindi cinema has been its overseas markets, most importantly those with strong South Asian diasporas, such as the UK…” [my emph.].

The growth of the Hindi cinema in the 1990’s, we have said, would be characterized by a discourse with a special focus on “Indianness” – viz. it would project a specific Indian cultural identity and which would be accompanied by a correspondingly new image of “the good Indian” [as Krämer notes]. It was precisely such type of discourse that would attract the South Asian diasporic communities in countries such as the UK. “This”, Krämer notes, “proved particularly successful with South Asians in the lucrative overseas markets”.

The South Asian diasporic communities that have settled in a country such as the UK, being strong in terms of numbers and geographical cohesion – and wishing to maintain such strength and cohesion in a general environment that would be de facto non-Asian – would not simply be “attracted” to the Bollywood genre, at least not in the sense of a passive attraction to the genre’s ready-made products. While the brand label of Bollywood would naturally maintain a generally dominant “Indianness” in its ideological construction, it would at the same time preserve a distinct ideological “space” so as to accommodate the specific and varying needs of its different overseas markets. It is within this distinct ideological “space” that the reconstruction of the Bollywood genre would take place, and it would be reconstructed in such manner as to meet the exclusive requirements of a “village” community [or communal “cultural clusters”] located in an Asian-heavy region typical of East Ham. The reconstruction itself would be determined by two interconnected actors: the consumers of the locality [or in any case consumers ethno-culturally related to that locality] and the intermediaries between those consumers and the Bollywood industry. Krämer describes this reality as follows: “Since the commodities of the Bollywood brand are consumed and marketed globally, the Indian output [viz. that emanating from India] into the discursive construction of the brand is, though dominant, not exclusive”. The absence of such exclusivity creates the ideological “space” referred to above – Krämer continues thus: “Instead, the perception and construction of the brand varies from one national market to the next, as intermediaries and consumers construct their own local and heterogeneous [vis-à-vis different localities or markets] versions of Bollywood” [my emph.].

It is certainly to Krämer’s credit that the major thrust of her research work is oriented in the direction here outlined. Elsewhere in her book, she writes: “Apart from asking the questions of who actually consumes Bollywood [in the UK], how and why, this study is therefore especially interested in the different constructions of Bollywood in Britain and the changes the concept undergoes when the travelling goods that are Indian mainstream films are locally consumed and adapted for British texts and contexts” [my emph.].

We shall end this presentation of the general framework through which we need to understand the functioning of Bollywood in the UK by quoting the work of Rajinder Kumar Dudrah, whom we referred to in Paper 4d as one example of a writer who undertakes to study the phenomenon of Bollywood from a fairly strict sociological perspective. Dudrah emphasizes the importance of diasporic audiences in determining the very content of Bollywood movies [referred to as “diegetic activity”]; and he further emphasizes the role of such diasporic audiences in determining the manner in which Bollywood movies are produced, whereby members of these selfsame diasporic communities may actively participate in the actual creation of these movies [referred to as “creative collaboration”]. Both of these points are of crucial significance for our purposes, and we shall have to dwell on them further below. Dudrah very interestingly writes as follows: “The Indian and South Indian diaspora more generally is now almost always an important consideration in the production, distribution, anticipated monetary returns and potential audience reach for Bollywood films… Of late, the diaspora’s prominence becomes apparent not only at the level of diegetic activity in Hindi cinema but also in terms of creative collaboration. Cultural producers from the South Asian diaspora are also making their input in Bollywood films through production possibilities” [my emph.]. This reality as described by Dudrah is especially pronounced in the case of the UK – various well-known members of “cultural clusters” based in the UK have played an important role in producing [or in contributing to] a variety of Bollywood movies, all or most productions of which have been concerned with the experiences of diasporic Indians in the UK. In fact, it should also be pointed out here that such “input” has taken yet another form related to the Bollywood phenomenon: quite a number of the UK’s local ethnic-based singers [some of them hailing directly from the neighbourhoods of localities such as East Ham] have participated in Bollywood movies as playback artists [cf. for instance, Shabnam Mahmood, “London’s British Asians look to Bollywood”, https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-london-22391532, 03.05.2013]. By the way, this important matter shall be examined in much detail in a forthcoming paper dealing with the question of ethnic-based music production as practiced in the region of East Ham.

Local reconstruction: Bollywood themes

We can now turn to the question of the local reconstruction of Bollywood movies in the UK in slightly more concrete terms – to do this, we shall examine specific Bollywood themes as manifested in the context of the UK.

It has been argued that Asian “cultural clusters” proliferating in a locality such as East Ham have come to be characterized by a well-defined mindset – a primary aspect of such mindset has been the need to assert one’s identity as an “Asian”. It was so as to satisfy this type of diasporic psychological need that the Bollywood genre would ultimately introduce a diegetic discourse based on the diasporic experience. Further, and again in terms of the needs of UK’s Asian “cultural clusters”, it would also develop an ideological discourse emphasizing the virtues of Indian traditionality and as such traditionality would articulate with modernity. The important point here is that Indian filmmakers would be choosing such types of themes in direct response to the needs of a pre-existing mindset prevailing amongst UK’s Asian “cultural clusters”. They would simply be tapping into a reality that had in any case prevailed in the psychological makeup of the average Asian settler, and which would need to be further fed with cultural symbols expressive of such makeup.

There have been many analysts who have researched the phenomenon of Bollywood in the UK in terms of just such orientation – one such is Rajinder Dudrah, though he is not the only one. With respect to the case of the UK in particular, Krämer notes as follows: “Commentators [such as Dudrah] have frequently claimed that the introduction of a diaspora theme and the thematic emphasis on the negotiation of tradition and modernity that can be seen in many Bollywood films of the 1990s and early 2000s were in fact attempts by Indian filmmakers to tap into precisely such a diasporic psychological constellation” [my emph.] – such constellation being that inherent yearn for the identity of “Indianness” [and as that is “lived” within the UK].

Practically speaking, this need to tap into the UK’s “diasporic psychological constellation” would mean that certain Bollywood movies would actually be shot in locations that spoke directly to UK’s Asian “cultural clusters” – such locations, of course, would be areas of London [as also elsewhere in Britain] which formed part of the experience of such “cultural clusters”. The fact that Britain would be used as a Bollywood location would also play an important role in determining the people who would participate in the production of the particular motion picture – and which would yield what Dudrah has described as “creative collaboration” [op cit.].

And yet, while the Bollywood genre targeting UK’s “cultural clusters” would now be focusing on diasporic Indians settled in a foreign country, this would not at all mean that the Indian homeland would be forgotten – quite the exact opposite. Krämer has shown [cf. especially, though not only, chapter 4 of her study] that Indian diaspora films with the UK as location would be consistently raising “questions of nostalgia”. And in a section entitled “Expatriate Indians in diaspora films”, she explains further: “Though not really an established genre label, ‘diaspora film’ is a useful term for classifying the growing number of Hindi films which, since the 1990s, have put thematic emphasis on the expatriate Indian and his/her relation to the Indian homeland and culture” [my emph.].

The typical Bollywood diaspora film targeting UK “cultural clusters” would not simply be asserting either the reality of “nostalgia” or that of the relation to Indian culture – thematic approaches could go even further. This type of film could also be didactic: it would warn UK’s Asian “cultural clusters” of the dangers of losing contact with the homeland culture, given the dangers of living in the Western world and its own particular cultural and moral values. While, of course, not all diaspora movies would be adopting such ideological strategy, this type of thematic strain would nonetheless be one important defining characteristic of the genre aimed at the UK’s Asian settlers. Krämer, for instance, makes the following critical observation regarding a 2001 Hindi-language melodrama entitled “Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham” [also known as K3G], which was written and directed by Karan Johar – she writes: “… in ‘K3G’ the loss of cultural roots that may result from living in the West is interpreted as potentially dangerous”. At least one implication of such ideological theme is that the UK as such constitutes a “negative reality” for its Asian settlers.

This important thematic notion of the West and/or the UK constituting a “negative reality” for Asian “cultural clusters” living therein is explored in a number of different ways by the Bollywood diaspora films. In language that is uncharacteristically convoluted, Krämer notes: “Even in films like ‘I See You’…, ‘Kismat Konnection’ or ‘Desi Boyz’, the Western setting paradoxically, yet automatically, highlights, practically ‘ex negativo’, that the frame of values, customs and morals that constitute the dominant point of reference for the evaluation of the characters’ behaviour remains ‘Indian’. This feature is especially important in the so-called diaspora films”. What Krämer means to say here may be elucidated, or further interpreted, as follows: [i] There is a segment of Indians that find themselves living in the Western world, and/or more specifically in localities of the UK [many diaspora film, we have suggested, focus almost exclusively on the life of Indians in Britain]; [ii] This Western world is by definition a “negative reality” [or “potentially dangerous”]; [iii] Diasporic Indians have to “struggle” so as to survive such reality; [iv] Such “struggle” is almost always informed by a “cultural” element; [v] The behaviour of characters within such context of “struggle” is evaluated in terms of specifically Indian values, customs and morals.

For the Bollywood diaspora movie, it is suggested, the success or failure of a Bollywood character “struggling” in an alien – or even dangerous – environment such as that of the prevailing Western culture in the UK must be measured in terms of Indian moral values. There is a further logical implication based on such an ideological approach – viz. that the decisive test of such “struggle” is the extent to which the presence of Indians [and in their capacity as “cultural clusters”] has been able to transform London into “Asian space”. A highly representative example of a Bollywood movie wherein London has been so “transformed’ is that of “Namastey London”, filmed in 2007. The title of the film is translated as “Greetings London” and is an Indian romance directed by Vipul Amrutlal Shah. It is said that the movie was filmed in around fifty locations in Britain, London included [cf. Sarfraz Manzoor, “Cultural Exchange”, https://www.theguardian.com/film, 23.03.2007]. This is what Krämer has to say regarding this motion picture – as she writes: “London is once again represented as an Asian space” [my emph.].

It follows from this that certain typical Bollywood movies focusing on the life of Indian settlers in the UK promote, inter alia, a central ideological discourse that has often been described as “reverse colonialism”. While this is not meant as a critique of the ideological orientation of the Bollywood genre [it has its own historical reasons], it nonetheless does give us an idea of the type of ideological narratives that speak to Asian “cultural clusters” located in regions such as East Ham. With respect to the question of how London [or other areas of the UK] is often transformed into “Asian space” in certain Bollywood movies targeting people like Asian East Hammers, and how this translates into “reverse colonialism”, Krämer makes the following highly perceptive observations: “… in some films Britain has indeed a special status compared to other foreign settings because of its role as the former colonizer. It offers Indian film-makers the possibility of conveying patriotism and national pride, especially when the films effectively transform Britain into an Indian space and thus exercise a form of counter-hegemonic discursive appropriation or reverse colonialism” [my emph.].

We see here that at least some movies of the Bollywood genre targeting the Asian “cultural clusters” of the UK could promote an ideological discourse of “reverse colonialism” for reasons other than those based on a nostalgic relationship with the homeland, or based on the dangers of a “negative reality” as expressed by Western culture, or even based on the assumed superiority of Indian moral values. While all such ideological factors would be partly conducive to the construction of an ideology of “reverse colonialism”, they would not be enough to yield such type of antagonistic discourse vis-à-vis the dominant Western culture prevalent in the UK. Of course, that which would play a decisive role in articulating an ideology of “reverse colonialism” would be what Krämer refers to as Britain’s “special status” in the history of India – put very simply, it would be a matter of “colonizing” that which had once “colonized” you.

Such ideology has permeated a variety of Bollywood movies targeting the diaspora [samples of such movies shall be examined in some detail in the second part of this paper] – it is worth lucidly reiterating the explanation behind such reality, given its extreme importance in determining the self-segregatory proclivities of cinemagoing practices amongst East Ham’s Asian “cultural clusters”. The basic points are as follows:

• For the Indian State and the various ideological organs operating in and around it, the case of Britain is not simply an “overseas market” where it can export its Bollywood commodities. We well know of the history of British colonialism that had once operated so decisively in the Indian subcontinent. Given precisely such history, the function of Bollywood in the UK has as much an economic dimension as it has an ideological one. This is what makes Bollywood’s overseas market in the UK a very special case [i.e. gives it a “special status”] in comparison with whichever other overseas market [such as, for instance, that of the USA].

• India’s response to its former colonizer is natural: its Bollywood industry promotes the virtues of Indian “patriotism” and “national pride”, and does so amongst communities that are in fact expatriates or compatriot “settlers”. India expects of the latter to assert their identity; and the “settlers” themselves expect of their homeland to confirm that selfsame identity.

• This two-way assertion and confirmation of “patriotism” and “national pride” can only but be materialized in the real world through the “transformation” of regions of the UK into “Asian spaces” or “Indian spaces”. The fact that the area of East Ham has come to be known as “Little India” certainly testifies to this.

• The act of “transforming” an area into an “Indian space” constitutes ipso facto a process of “reverse colonialism” – such process, in fact, has also meant the exodus of segments of White Britons from such areas [cf. especially Paper 2b, where we examine the reality of what has been called the “decamping” of White Britons from localities such as East Ham; and cf. Paper 3, where we examine the ultimate demise of the historical “cockney” culture that once prevailed in the area].

• Generally speaking, one may say that this process of “reverse colonialism” has been bolstered by the cultivation of what Krämer has referred to as India’s “long-distance nationalism”, this being the prevailing and overall policy of the Indian government with respect to Indians residing in the UK.

• Finally, such “long-distance nationalism” has taken the form of what we have identified above as “Indianness” – the latter is itself defined in terms of a community’s “ethnic roots”, whatever be that community’s actual place of residence outside India.

Watching Bollywood in the UK: an ethnically marked practice

Now, this particular reconstruction of the phenomenon of Bollywood within the UK would mean that the practice of watching Bollywood movies in an area such as East Ham would necessarily – and as naturally – be ethnically marked as Asian. Much has been written on this matter in the available literature on Bollywood as practiced in the UK – such literature, moreover, fully verifies our own findings on cinemagoing practices in the Boleyn and Cineworld venues as discussed in Paper 4d.

The suggestion that the practice of cinemagoing in areas such as East Ham is essentially ethnically-coded is corroborated by the fact that White Britons – amongst certain other non-Asian cultural groupings in the UK – do not watch Bollywood movies. Krämer’s research findings allow her to make the following very important observation: “The concentration of screens with Bollywood programming in areas with large Asian population groups and the restricted scope of theatrical exhibition for Indian films elsewhere clearly indicate that mainstream Indian films in Britain have… not crossed over to non-traditional audience groups to a significant extent” [my emph.]. What Krämer is telling us here is that both the “concentration” and the “restricted scope” of Bollywood exhibitions illustrate [though have not themselves caused] the fact that groupings such as White Britons have not embraced the Bollywood phenomenon – such choice of “non-traditional” groups has above all been determined by specific cultural preferences.

In discussing the question of Bollywood film distribution and possible attempts that may have been made – for purely economic reasons [viz. the economic dimension of the Bollywood phenomenon] – to attract UK audiences outside the ambit of Asian “cultural clusters”, Krämer has further observed the following: “… distributors’ attempts to cross over to non-traditional audiences have been rare” [my emph.]. The rarity of such attempts – and which could take the form of film subtitling – verifies the fact that the ideological dimension of the Bollywood phenomenon willy-nilly prevails over that of the economic. As already indicated, it has been the factor of cultural preference – on the part of groupings such as White Britons – that has kept them away from the Bollywood cinema. Krämer adds: “Outside Asian communities there is little awareness of which Indian films are being released (and when)” [my emph.].

Such limited awareness on the part of White Britons [as also of other non-Asian segments of the population] as regards the Bollywood cinema comes as no surprise – Indian films in the UK are almost exclusively watched by “cultural clusters” of South Asian origin. As Krämer explains: “The geographical distribution of screens showing South Asian films as well as the distributors’ marketing strategies underline that Indian films in UK cinemas play almost exclusively to audiences with South Asian backgrounds” [my emph.].

It is precisely this exclusivity as to who watches Bollywood in the UK that allows Krämer to conclude that “Watching Bollywood films at the cinema is therefore an activity that is very strongly ethnically coded” [my emph.]. Based on her own findings, it is crystal clear that such “ethnic code” is none other than strictly Asian – as she also writes: “Watching Indian mainstream films in Britain emerges from this analysis as an activity that is still clearly ethnically marked as Asian” [my emph.]. Her analysis, need we say, is based on a systematic examination of the available statistical material regarding Bollywood in the UK and further based on a rigorous examination of the relevant current literature concentrated on qualitative research.

By way of an example, we may refer here to what her own research has come up with in investigating the practical methods used by Indian distributors to help advertize or market Bollywood films in the UK – all such methods indicate the exclusive use of Indian sources, further confirming that the Bollywood phenomenon in the UK is restricted to Asian “cultural clusters”. Krämer describes these practical methods as follows: “The Indian distributors have been happy to restrict their marketing efforts to the Asian communities and to advertise in regional papers and national Asian newspapers and on Asian web sites. They raise interest by posters and information material displayed in cinemas and trust in the force of word of mouth and the fact that British Asians have access to the international sources of advertising for the films, such as satellite TV, internet pages or internationally exported Indian film magazines like ‘Stardust’, ‘Filmfare’, ‘Movie’ or ‘Cineblitz’…” [my emph.]. Krämer’s description of the manner in which Asian “cultural clusters” are made aware of new Bollywood films paints a clear picture of a segregated world of Asian cinemagoing amounting to a “parallel universe” within the UK [as we shall see, the use of this latter term in describing the Bollywood phenomenon in the country is not ours]. So emphatic is this operation of a “parallel universe” that Time Out, which is said to be an “ultimate guide to the best art and entertainment”, does not provide any information on the latest Bollywood movies screened in the UK. Krämer herself notes that “… the information in ‘Time Out’ did not include [at least at the time of working on her study in 2017] the specialized cinemas in the suburbs”.

The work of Shakuntala Banaji [cf. Paper 4d] also verifies Krämer’s findings regarding the exclusively ethnically-coded nature of Bollywood cinema-going in localities such as East Ham. Banaji, like others, has taken the trouble to actually visit cinema venues in the UK that screen Bollywood movies – and she has thus been able to make a number of very interesting observations on the types of audiences that watch Bollywood films in localities of the UK [observations which we intend to consider further below]. On visiting one such venue, she came up with the following absolutely revealing conclusion: “There is not a single non-white face [within the theatre]” [p. 50, my emph.].

In yet another cinemagoing experience that Banaji describes, she would find that while Asians could choose to watch a particular Hollywood movie, non-Asians would not do the same when it came to films of the Bollywood genre. This is what she writes: “… while three of the Asian couples I spoke to were going to see ‘Monsters Inc’ or ‘Ocean’s Eleven’ [both of these being Hollywood movies], not a single non-Asian bought a ticket for the subtitled ‘Haan Maine Bhi Pyaar Kiya’, reminding me of Gary Younge’s lament about the new Star City cinema complex just outside Birmingham” [p. 52, my emph.]. The “lament” concerned the ethnically segregated cinemagoing experience manifested in the cinema complex.

Gary Younge, by the way, is a commentator who has himself written on the question of cinemagoing ethnic-based segregation in the UK – his general observations go as follows: “In this thirty-screen multiplex cinema [viz. the Star City in Birmingham]… globalised culture has been carved into celluloid slots and sold with popcorn. ‘Bichoo, Boys Don’t Cry’ [Bollywood] and ‘High Fidelity’ [Hollywood] are just a few of the films showing within a few hundred metres of each other, but those who are watching exist alongside each other in a parallel universe. This is where Hollywood meets Bollywood (to which six screens have been dedicated) and where different ethnicities congregate but rarely coalesce – a segregated experience within an integrated space” [cf. “The Big Picture”, The Guardian, 26.07.2000, my emph.].

A point of clarification is required at this stage of our presentation. The fact that Bollywood cinemagoing practices in the UK are – as has been stated thus far – ethnically coded, remains an observation that calls for slightly further examination. While all such practices have been quite distinctly “Asian”, the audiences that are engaged in them can be internally heterogeneous. The reality is that the general category pointing to an Asian “cultural cluster” within the socio-cultural formation of the UK is not an exact empirical accuracy: within this general category, one may observe particular sub-categories, or sub-“cultural clusters”. Krämer’s work also identifies this phenomenon when she writes that “within this ethnic framework, the cinema audience is rather heterogeneous. It is drawn from all sections of the British Asian communities” [my emph.].

Banaji’s own observations regarding cinema audiences watching Bollywood films in the UK further confirm this internal heterogeneity. This is how she describes the composition of an audience in some particular cinema theatre that she had visited: “In terms of religion and region there appear to be a few Nepalis, Hindu Gujuratis, Muslims (from India and Pakistan) speaking Hindi or Urdu as well as a few Punjabis. Hindu is the lingua franca” [p. 50]. We note that the heterogeneity is here based on at least two factors: that of people’s religious affiliation and that of their original homeland; the heterogeneity is also manifested in the variety of languages that are spoken [although, and as pointed out by Banaji, Hindi seems to be the basic bridge language].

Having made this clarificatory note regarding the relative heterogeneity of Bollywood-watching audiences in the UK, we need to in any case emphasize that, at least as regards the case of East Ham and its environs, it is the presence of the South Asian element that has prevailed in cinemas such as the Boleyn or Cineworld. This, of course, is explainable in terms of the disproportionally heavy presence of South Asians in the area [cf., for instance, K.S.S. Seshan, “Asian locality in London city”, https://www.thehindu.com, 29.03.2016; cf., as well, Paper 3].

Bollywood in the UK: the bolstering of local cultural affiliations

What needs to be emphasized – above all – is that whatever the internal heterogeneity of UK audiences watching Bollywood movies, the central most important functionality of such type of movies has been the bolstering of local cultural affiliations amongst UK’s Asian “cultural clusters” as a whole. Such cultural affiliations have been effected through a general cultural confirmation of “Indianness” – and it is this socio-cultural phenomenon as promoted by the Bollywood genre that we shall here need to further consider in some greater detail.

The bolstering of cultural affiliations amongst people through an on-going confirmation of their cultural identity is, when that happens, something that can be visible to the naked eye. It is a tangible practice that may be recorded by anyone who takes the trouble to “go to the movies” in his/her capacity as a sociologist [or, perhaps even better, as a social anthropologist]. It is for this reason that we need appreciate the type of research work undertaken by writers such as Rajinder Kumar Dudrah, who actually does attempt to “take sociology to the movies”; does attempt to examine people’s behaviour within cinema halls; and does attempt to investigate the relationship between, on the one hand, what he calls “popular Hindi cinema-going” and, on the other, the formation of “diasporic South Asian identity” within the UK. As has been noted above, the work of Shakuntala Banaji likewise focuses on the formation of identity-based Asian affiliation in localities of the UK. And similarly, Lucia Krämer’s work itself raises and attempts to deal with sociological questions related to the manner in which Bollywood-going in the UK contributes to the cultural self-confirmation of Asian communities in the UK, and thus to their ultimate affiliation as a “cluster” [or, rather, series of interrelated “clusters”]. With respect to self-confirmation, Krämer explains to us that her research work “touches on sociological questions relating to the role of Bollywood for British Asian self-assertion…” [my emph.].

The fact that the role of Bollywood has been such as to promote a cultural “self-assertion” amongst UK’s Asian communities goes on to confirm what we have already asserted above regarding the primacy of ideology in the Bollywood genre. Krämer’s sociological analysis allows her to point to such very primacy by speaking of the paramount importance of the “cultural value” of Bollywood vis-à-vis that of its secondary “market value”, at least with respect to its functionality within the diasporic communities of the UK. Quoting the work of J.P. Singh and Kate House [cf. “Bollywood in Hollywood: Value Chains, Cultural Voices, and the Capacity to Aspire”, APSA 2010 Annual Meeting Paper, 2010], this is how Krämer puts it: “One should keep in mind… that the cultural value of Bollywood ‘has always been greater than its market value’ [in comparison with Hollywood] (Singh & House 2010) because of its cultural predominance in India and its presence among [UK’s] diasporic South Asian communities…”

The “cultural value” of the Bollywood genre has had its historical progenitor in the UK – even as back as the 1960’s, Hindi films would function as part of the process of Asian self-confirmation and/or self-assertion, thereby effecting community affiliation amongst the UK’s early ethnic settlers of that period. This of course concerns the special case of East African Asians – as we know, and according to https://www.minorityrights.org, updated October 2020: “Following Ugandan independence from Britain in 1962 and Kenyan independence in 1963, the governments introduced ‘Africanization’ policies. The wealthy Asian middle classes were an obvious target… During the 1960s thousands of Asian families from East Africa migrated to Britain”. For these Asian families, it was a matter of preserving their collective ethnic identity in a strange world, and one manner of doing this would be through the medium of the then Hindi movie genre, and given the “cultural value” of that genre. Krämer describes this early 1960’s case as follows: “The presence of Hindi films in Britain expanded in the 1960s, when a large number of South Asians immigrated from East Africa and brought with them their experience of how to develop an infrastructure for upholding their culture in an alien environment” [my emph.].

The process – whereby Asians would attempt to develop that type of infrastructure which would bolster their ethnic self-assertion – would yet again be repeated in its own way with the return of Bollywood cinemagoing by the 1990’s. Both the past experiences of South Asian compatriots and the new experiences of incoming settlers would be used to confirm ethnic identity and thereby build affiliatory networks crystallizing into “cultural clusters”. Commenting on the form that the return of Bollywood would take in the 1990’s, Krämer notes: “This development was principally triggered by two Indian blockbusters: the family melodramas ‘Hum Aapke Hain Koun…!’ (Who Am I to You, 1994) and ‘Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge’ (The Brave-Hearted will Take away the Bride, 1995). Both were… adopting a celebratory stance towards Indian traditions and both obviously struck a chord with British Asian audiences” [my emph.].

Krämer explains that there would now be a new confirmation of ethnic identity by producing movies that would “retain a recognizably Indian quality due to their difference from Hollywood” [my emph.]. Such movies, she continues, would come to “function as a very particular metonymy of the nation by conveying a ‘feel good’ version of Indian culture” – and so they would yet again be celebratory of the cultural traditions of the Indian homeland. Importantly, their attempt to maintain a difference from Hollywood would also mean that this would be a celebration of a certain cultural exclusivity. It would be precisely this type of cinema that would become popular amongst UK’s South Asians by the 1990’s.

It is such types of research findings that would allow Krämer to draw – what we consider to be – extremely important conclusions as regards the nature of Bollywood as a whole, but also as regards its very specific materialization within the “cultural clusters” of the UK. “Bollywood”, she writes, “can be regarded as a cultural marker that refers beyond itself. It is a means for individuals and even social groups to establish cultural affiliations, and its different constructions refer to different social spheres, groups and milieus” [my emph.].

For some theorists at least – and which is reflective of the idea that Bollywood qua “cultural marker” bonds or affiliates social groupings – the genre can be said to possess a certain intrinsic “political” function, at least within UK’s “cultural clusters”. Krämer tells us that “In this sense, Bollywood can also always be regarded (at least implicitly) inherently political” [my emph.]. There is at least one sense in which the Bollywood genre can be said to be latently “political” – viz. by functioning as a medium whereby social groupings such as Asian “cultural clusters” are bonded together on the basis of certain values, it constitutes an identity-based “resistance” to whichever alien values happen to bombard these “clusters” from the outside.

To illustrate the type of work that has been done by certain theorists in exploring the so-called “political” dimension of the Bollywood genre, Krämer considers the sociological writings of someone like Dudrah, which she sees as representative of such an orientation. This is what she writes: “[Dudrah’s] approach seems influenced by the leftist orientation typical of the Birmingham School of Cultural Studies… This political stance informs his interpretation of Bollywood cinema-going in Britain as a deliberate, intrinsically subversive and emancipatory act of South Asian identity manifestation. On the basis of his interviews, Dudrah ultimately claims that his respondents’ social investment in Bollywood media constitutes an affirmation of their eclectic British-South Asian cultural identity in a context where there are hardly any identificatory offers for British Asians in the mainstream media… Dudrah’s main angle on the topic of Bollywood in Britain… is therefore the issue of diasporic identity formation” [my emph.].

While such an approach does seem to confirm much of what we have been observing with respect to the ideological operation of the Bollywood genre in the UK, there are nonetheless a number of clarificatory points that need to be made, and which would somehow qualify certain claims made by writers such as Dudrah. The points are as follows:

• Dudrah’s insistence on the “political” nature of Bollywood is typical of all Marxist or quasi-Marxian approaches to whichever social phenomenon – since time immemorial, Marxists have seen the “political instance” [or power relations] lurking in every nook and cranny of society. Such dogmatic obsessions cannot obviously yield a balanced understanding – or, rather, description – of reality.

• The insistence on the “political” nature of the Bollywood genre also raises a highly problematic issue – viz. how is one to define the term “political”? Marxist or quasi-Marxian understandings of this term have often displayed a blatantly oversimplistic, not to say biased, interpretation of the real world. For instance, the “political” is nowadays frequently presented as an eschatological force expressive of the so-called “political consciousness” of “the oppressed”, and especially when such “oppressed” social groupings happen to be “minorities” struggling against the so-called “dominant ideology”.

• We need to carefully examine how Dudrah himself deals with the “political” dimension of Bollywood: it is supposed to constitute a “deliberate” socio-cultural practice against a reality which lacks “identificatory offers” for the Asian “minority” group. Being “deliberate”, it is a “conscious” determination on the part of Asian settlers to undermine the “dominant” status quo. This specific “consciousness” of such supposed “agents” raises more questions than it is meant to resolve, it being part of a long and rather controversial “philosophical” inquiry as to what constitutes “consciousness” [and we know that all such discussions have remained unresolved].

• Dudrah goes so far as to present Bollywood cinemagoing as a “subversive” practice – which is like wishing to discover “revolution” in various aspects of “ethnic minority” life in the UK. Even worse, he wishes to suggest that such “subversive” practice is “intrinsic” – one possible implication here being that the “subversion” is “inevitable” [yet another Marxist theoretical malady], and which could lead one down the rabbit hole of a quasi-religious “eschatology” [itself a time-honoured Marxist malady].

• And yet, while one may simply reject all such Marxist or quasi-Marxian theoretical contraptions, one can nonetheless salvage at least certain findings presented by the research work undertaken by Dudrah. One may accept, for instance, a more minimalist sense of “resistance” on the part of Asian “cultural clusters” struggling – “consciously” or not that “consciously” – to survive in the alien environment of UK’s Western cultural norms. Theirs may be said to be a self-survivalist struggle for “diasporic identity formation” via a variety of cultural practices yielding collective affiliation or group bonding, one such practice being Bollywood cinemagoing. It is in this very specific – and necessarily minimalist – sense that one may speak of Bollywood cinemagoing as being an “emancipatory act”: it is, in the last instance, an essentially “self-protective” practice on the part of a sub-culture existing within a prevailing UK Western milieu. To the extent that it “protects” itself, it also “emancipates” itself from the relatively alien bombardments of the outside world.

• But there is yet another point that needs to be clarified in dealing with the work of someone like Dudrah. We speak above of what we call “relatively alien bombardments” that may threaten Asian “diasporic identity formation”. By this we mean to stress that such cultural bombardments are in fact merely “relatively alien” – this suggestion, however, would once more water down some of Dudrah’s suggestions regarding the “subversive” nature of the Bollywood genre. While Bollywood cinemagoing may be an oppositional practice vis-à-vis Western cultural norms, it is not so in the absolute sense of “subversion”.

• Although the Bollywood genre may be “lived” by members of UK’s “cultural clusters” as an oppositional cultural practice vis-à-vis the cultural norms of Hollywood, this would not necessarily exclude a certain articulation [or exchange] between Asian cultural values and other non-Asian values. It just so happens that East Ham’s Asians may in fact watch movies of the Hollywood genre, albeit only occasionally. The fact of such reality does not at all contradict the assertion that Bollywood cinemagoing as practiced in a locality such as East Ham actually does bond such “village” along ethnic lines as defined by a specific diegetic worldview [that of “Indianness”]. On the other hand, that selfsame reality – viz. that of articulation or exchange between Asian and non-Asian values – does seem to contradict Dudrah’s idea of a “deliberate subversion”.

• The suggestion that there can be a certain exchange between Asian and non-Asian cultural norms within “cultural clusters” does not at all dispute Dudrah’s observation as regards the “eclectic” nature of British-South Asian cultural identity. Similarly, such potential exchange does not even dispute what Krämer has to say regarding the cultural exclusivity of the Bollywood genre [cf. above], and how this is celebrated in the ideologically different diegetic worldview of Bollywood vis-à-vis Hollywood norms. Both “eclecticism” and “exclusivity”, even in their most nationalist of Indian varieties, cannot constitute an absolutely closed ideological-cum-cultural system – and they cannot since these are “filters” that can only but be mediated by day-to-day experiences exclusive to settlers that have been thrown into a diasporic world set well apart from their homeland.

• We may therefore safely argue that the “eclectic” or the “exclusive” feeds off its environment – albeit an environment which is a decidedly “negative reality” [op. cit.] – so that it may “protect” itself in its self-survivalist struggle to reproduce its particular ethnic-based worldview. As such, it is not necessarily a “deliberately subversive” project – as Dudrah would have us believe. In the last instance, however, it is a self-segregationist practice for it appropriates what is “alien” to it in its own “eclectic” or “exclusivist” terms. Put otherwise, we may say that the “eclectic” evolves and enriches itself within a “negative reality” by co-opting elements of such reality in its own terms. An excellent example of this is the manner in which the ideology of “Indianness” has appropriated an essentially Western medium of communication – viz. the practice of movie-making per se – so as to confirm its non-Western cultural paradigm. And as we shall see in discussing samples of Bollywood movies further below, the Bollywood genre has at times also appropriated certain specific elements of Hollywood itself [without, it should be noted, allowing these elements to violate the bedrock ideology of “Indianness”].

• In summary, we are saying that the Bollywood genre – as experienced by the Asian “cultural clusters” of the UK – is an eclectically self-segregationist phenomenon expressing a certain cultural “resistance” to Western values alien to the original Indian homeland. But such “resistance” is neither “subversive” nor “political” in the strict sense of both these words [i.e. it does not mean to challenge whatever political “establishment” that happens to be hegemonic within the UK].

While the Bollywood phenomenon cannot be said to be of a “political” nature in the strict – or Marxian – sense, it nonetheless constitutes a major “social space” wherein ethnic-based bonding takes place and which yields tightly knit Asian communities within the UK. Such social tightness would mean that the vast majority of people belonging to an Asian “cultural cluster” adhere to or espouse cultural and social norms common to their kind – in doing so, they would also share common preferences as regards the type of British “politics” that are most “protective” of their lives as settlers. We of course know that the overwhelming number of South Asians that have settled in the UK are Labour Party supporters – according to https://www.runnymedetrust.org, February 2019: “Labour remained the most popular party among ethnic minority voters in both 2017 and 2015, receiving 77% of ethnic minority votes in 2017”. One may therefore acknowledge that there is a definite coincidence between Asian Bollywood cinemagoers and supporters of the Labour Party – and it is only in this very narrow sense that “politics” is somehow entangled with an adherence to the Bollywood genre. This particular observation need not be seen as a mere superficial detail: it is a fact of life that the practice of Bollywood cinemagoing may also involve patron exchanges and discussions around everyday political issues [such discussions, by the way, could also include matters revolving around politics in India – cf. Paper 4a, where we discuss the entanglement between religious practices and “Tamil nationalism”].

And so it is in this very specific sense that Krämer is entitled to make the following observations: “Apart from serving as family outings, these screenings [of Indian films have] provided an important social space and networking opportunities for the British Asian communities”. For such communities, Bollywood cinemagoing has been “at the centre of political, cultural and social life” [my emph.]. We intend to further explore Krämer’s reference to “family outings” [and cf. Paper 4d, where the role of the Indian family has been found to play a pivotal role in the life of the Boleyn and Cineworld venues].

Whether of a “political”, “cultural” or “social” nature, the practice of Bollywood cinemagoing in the UK has yielded an affiliative bonding of Asian “cultural clusters” that has transformed the ideology of Bollywood into tangible material manifestations rooted in specific localities. So much so, in fact, that such cinemagoing practices may have even given birth to specific ethnic communities in various parts of the UK. Krämer makes the following extremely interesting observation with respect to such phenomenon – as she writes: “… the screenings [of Indian movies] may have functioned as a pulling factor in the demographic transformation of streets and entire towns… the screenings first attracted an infrastructure of Asian-owned businesses, which catered to the cinema patrons, and… this infrastructure in turn attracted Asians who moved into the respective areas” [my emph.]. To illustrate her point, Krämer refers to one supposedly representative case, that of Manchester’s ‘Curry Mile’ area. It should nonetheless be noted that, however “logical” Krämer’s observation may sound, the matter still calls for further empirical verification, which is not forthcoming – and so she wisely confines herself to tentative suggestions. For our part, let us simply say that we are not aware of the extent to which the operation of a venue such as the Boleyn Cinema played its role in the demographic transformation of East Ham.

Local cultural affiliation – via both the multiplex chain-cinemas and the Asian-owned “independent” cinemas

Empirical data presented in Paper 4d, as also the research findings of someone like Krämer, clearly verify that the function of local cultural affiliation – or that of ethnic-based social bonding – would more or less apply to both the multiplex chain-cinemas and to the Asian-owned “independent” cinemas. This fact is beyond doubt as far as the case of the East Ham region is concerned, it being an area where both types of cinemas would survive and operate as venues for the locals [cf. Paper 4d, where we discuss the historically exceptional case of the Boleyn Cinema, which would survive the competition posed by a multiplex cinema such as the Cineworld]. Based on whatever empirical data we could gather, we have tried to show that the socio-cultural functioning of both of these cinemas in the East Ham region was well-nigh identical.

In contrast to the case of East Ham, we know that there are many Asian localities in the UK where the Asian-owned “independent” cinemas have been fully replaced by the multiplexes – in such cases, it is the multiplex cinemas that have taken over the socio-cultural function of ethnic-based bonding. Speaking of the UK as a whole, Krämer notes: “Even if the multiplexes do not serve as a networking space for the Asian communities like the independent Asian cinemas used to do, Bollywood viewing there… still functions as a sort of bonding device, especially as cinema-going is a regular activity for many patrons” [my emph.].

The general point is that wherever Bollywood movies are shown in the UK – and especially given all the social practices that accompany such exhibitions – the effect is more all less the same: it is the existential reality of becoming or being Asian that is reproduced, thereby bonding ethnic-based “cultural clusters”. This can happen in both Asian “independent” cinemas [where these still survive], or in particular screens of multiplex chain-cinemas, or even within a settler’s own home. Krämer quotes Dudrah on this as follows – according to his own findings, the “act of viewing Bollywood films in Britain, whether in the personal space of the home and/or in the public sphere of the cinema, can be considered as a cultural practice wherein notions of becoming and being ‘Asian’ are able to flourish on the terms of British Asians themselves”. With respect to all of Bollywood watching – wherever it happens to occur in the UK – Krämer herself draws the following general conclusion: “Due to the ethnic almost-exclusivity of Bollywood cinema-going, it… exudes the flair of being a specifically Asian process of cultural identity formation” [my emph.].

Local cultural affiliation – the Hindu family

In Paper 4d we examined in much detail how such process of Asian cultural identity formation would be materialized in the theatres of both East Ham’s Boleyn Cinema and those of Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema – we did this by considering who it was that frequented these venues and how audiences behaved therein. We shall now have to consider some of the relevant published literature on Bollywood cinemagoing in the UK, and shall present what such literature has to tell us about the “who” and “how” questions. The presentation shall run in more or less parallel lines with that in Paper 4d – as we shall clearly see, all data provided by such studies fully corroborate our own findings.

It is above all the Hindu family – in its capacity as Bollywood audience – that would play the pivotal role in local cultural affiliation and “cluster” solidification. Shakuntala Banaji’s various visits to UK theatres screening Bollywood films allow her to make the following observation regarding the types of audiences watching such films – she writes, very simply, that “This is a ‘family’ audience” [p. 50].

Krämer herself makes some extremely important observations regarding the role of the UK Hindu family in Bollywood-watching. Making use of data available in Bollywood Batein, 2004 – which is a qualitative report prepared by researchers working for the British Board of Film Classification – she writes: “Anyone observing the cinema audiences for Hindi mainstream films in Britain will be struck by the sheer number of families among them. While many persons also attend the films in groups of friends (often of the same sex), there is a striking tendency to watch Bollywood films with family. These family groups can comprise up to three or even four generations, as some cinemas accommodate this kind of family viewing by allowing very small children into the auditorium. The phenomenon of Bollywood family viewing is based on the widespread perception that Bollywood movies are usually suitable for the entire family, that is, devoid of explicit sexual scenes (Bollywood Batein 2004: 7). Moreover, Bollywood viewing serves as a family experience ‘especially where there (are) members of the family in the household who sp(eak) little or no English’ (Bollywood Batein 2004: 23)” [my emph.].

Although Krämer’s observations are here crystal-clear, it would be useful to simply highlight the basic points that she makes and comment on the possible implications of these:

• It is pointed out that when one speaks of the Hindu family unit as being pivotal in the solidification of Asian “cultural clusters” through the watching of Bollywood films, one in fact means an involvement of almost the whole spectrum of generations that compose the extended families of the settlers.

• This would mean that the practice of Bollywood-watching helps reinforce Indian cultural identity through the tightening of relations across different generation groups. Youngsters, for instance, are thereby initiated to – or remain in close contact with – the mores of the presumably more traditionalist older generations. There is even a certain cultural commerce between youth and members of the extended family unit that remain non-English speakers [and which would mean some sort of exchange between Indian ethnic languages and the English language itself].

• Bollywood-watching thus enriches the Hindu family experience in all [or most] of its manifestations: the sheer contact amongst different generation groups within cinema theatres reproduces the cultural roots of the entire family. Because Asian “cultural clusters” are primarily composed of extended family units, Bollywood-watching thereby reproduces these “cultural clusters” as such. [Such observations, however, are not meant to suggest that relations between the young and old within a Hindu family are absolutely conflict-free – we shall consider this matter further below].

• The typical White Briton watching a Hollywood movie would not be accompanied by his/her small children in cinema theatres – the practice is usually prohibited by the cinema itself and would in any case be considered uncivil on the part of the rest of the audience. This does not at all apply to screens exhibiting Bollywood movies [we have recorded in Paper 4d how both the Boleyn and Cineworld venues would be open to children of whatever age]. The practical implication of this would be that the Hindu family watching a Bollywood movie would not need to be “split” for the occasion – quite the opposite would occur: it would in fact assert its unity as a family unit. As we have seen in considering both the Boleyn and the Cineworld cinemas, the presence of the whole family – with small children or even babies included – would determine a very specific “atmosphere” within the auditorium. This “atmosphere” would be distinctly “Indian”.

• As Krämer also points out, Bollywood movie-watching allows for the participation of the whole family as Bollywood is “devoid of explicit sexual scenes”. One may say that this is a fairly accurate observation, at least when contrasted to the case of Hollywood. It should further be noted that the absence of unrestrained sexual scenes in the Bollywood genre relates to the ideological discourse of “Indianness”, and the cultural norms that it upholds.

The general conclusion is that both the multiplex chain-cinemas serving Indian audiences and the “independent” Asian-owned cinemas [where these still exist] have come to function in such manner as to perpetuate a cohesive interrelationship between a succession of age-groups and their concomitant mindsets within Asian communities. This is how Krämer puts it: “Linking persons of most disparate ages it [Bollywood viewing] creates a generational continuity” [my emph.].

Thus, when Banaji observes the type of patrons that enter a theatre screening a Bollywood movie, she notes by way of an example: “Six men, all clearly 30 plus and accompanying families” [p. 50, my emph.]. She further observes that a cinema audience “Consists primarily of women aged 30 plus as well as little children, some in prams, some of primary-school age” [ibid.]. And she tells us that “The younger women have come with kids and prams rather than with other youth” [ibid.].

Local cultural affiliation – Asian women

Such observations may now allow us to move, from our focus on the Hindu family, to the more specific case of Asian females as Bollywood-viewing patrons – while Asian females usually watch movies together with the rest of the family, they may also do so on separate occasions. Here too, in any case, it is the social function of local cultural affiliation and solidification that prevails within cinema theatres. And yet, and as we shall see, the role of Asian females in materializing such social function could at times be said to be of a type more or less specific to that gender. This specificity in the type of role females have played [or are playing] has been put down to a variety of factors, and which would include female preferences for particular screening times; probably different preferences as regards choice of movie [although we do not have enough data to verify this]; and different reactions – perhaps more gender-specific – to what is being watched. A combination of such types of factors could yield different experiences of the Bollywood phenomenon between males and females, and which would mean that the latter contribute to cultural affiliation in their own specific manner [it should be pointed out, however, that none of all this is in any way related to so-called “gender studies” – and we need say this because we do not mean to imply that “gender identity” should be seen as in some way superior to the realities of ethnic identity and the prevalence of “cultural clusters” that the latter has yielded in the UK].

Banaji’s observations seem to suggest that one preferred screening time for Asian females is that of daytime showings – she notes the following: “The notable absence of young men at this showing [which she attended] was repeated throughout my observations at daytime showings [in various locations around the UK as well]. Similarly, the preponderance of 30 plus women in the audience was also a feature of other observations” [p. 50].

More specifically, it seems that Asian women usually attend such daytime screenings over weekdays in particular [as opposed to the weekends, where the whole family unit would be attending screenings]. Banaji suggests that the assemblage of Asian females in cinema theatres during weekdays could be said to contribute to what she refers to as a “social confluence” amongst them, and which would be just one dimension of cultural affiliation within the Asian “cultural cluster” as a whole. She writes: “… during weekdays Hindi film showings in cinema halls in London appear to be places of social confluence and/or refuge for groups of 30 to 60-year-old South Asian women” [ibid.].

There are some indications that Asian women prefer different genres of Bollywood as opposed to male preferences [regarding the six different sub-genres within the general Bollywood genre, cf. Paper 4d; presumably females would opt for the more “romantic films”]. Krämer touches on the issue of gender-based preferences when she tells us that Bollywood Batein [op. cit.] “identifies different genre preferences among male and female viewers…”. As already noted, we do not intend to explore this any further, given the absence of specific data to further illustrate such observation.

What is certainly of much interest is the manner in which Asian females have received the experience of watching Bollywood movies, and which may perhaps be contrasted to male experience. A factor determining the specificity of the female experience has been the fact that Asian females – perhaps in contrast to males – would more often than not commence their Bollywood-watching at home and then only gradually move out to the cinema theatres. This would have had a certain effect on their impressions regarding the movies they watched, and which would further determine particular reactions, whether at home or – sometime later – in a cinema theatre. It is yet again the work of Banaji that provides us with invaluable information on this matter, and it is therefore worthwhile quoting her on one of her case-studies. The case we shall present concerns three female members of a British Asian family who would – in the early 1980’s – watch Hindi movies at home, via a videocassette recorder [VCR].

Banaji introduces her case study as follows – she writes: “Other viewers… watched Hindi films from early childhood… Padma, a 22-year-old, British-Nepali student, recounted in a playful manner both the experiences of her mother and aunt, as well as her own experiences, watching Hindi films in different contexts…” [p. 51].

The interviewee Padma narrates her early experiences as follows: “[When I was a kid] back in the early eighties we didn’t used [sic] to go to the cinema we had a secondhand VCR and my dad would come back from the restaurant, ’cause he’d live in the restaurant ’cause he didn’t have the cash to travel there every day, and then he’d bring us five tapes and he’d go, ‘you’ve got to watch ’em all today ’cause I’ve got to take them back tomorrow’. (laughter) And my mum and my aunt – we lived in a joint family – would be really confused and they’d put this film in and they’d go, ‘Right there’s Amitabh Bachchan (pause) and Jaya Bahaduri (pause) and she dies in that movie’, and the next film they’d put in and she’s alive again and they’d be like, ‘What on earth happened? She died!’ (laughter) I started off watching pretty early, I was like glued to the TV” [ibid.].

Based on what Padma tells us, we may draw the tentative conclusion that at least a certain number of Asian females must have started watching Hindi films [precursors to Bollywood proper] from a rather early age. We may further draw yet another tentative conclusion, already alluded to above: it does seem that many Asian females started watching Indian films at home, by using a VCR [on the other hand, we do know that many Asians, both male and female, would in any case be watching Hindi movies though videocassette recorders in the decade of the 1980’s and even further on – cf. Paper 4d regarding pirate Bollywood videos]. But specifically as regards Asian women, the transition from home-viewing to cinemagoing could be described as somewhat traumatic, thereby determining their own experience of the Bollywood genre, at least from a retrospective point of view. Interviewee Padma continues as follows: “I think mum still gets confused now when we go to the cinemas… Then, my uncle took my aunt to the cinema when they first got married and she was only 16, yeah, and like she told me, ‘it was all dark and scary and it was really horrible’, she had to shuffle past people in the dark and then ‘this thing played and I didn’t even know the language’…” [ibid., my emph.].

Padma speaks of two Asian women – her mother and her aunt – who had once been highly active home-viewers of Hindi movies [and which would even amount to the viewing of five films in one single day]. Such an intensive experience within the walls of their own home and in direct relation to a privately-owned VCR would ultimately mutate into something much more “public” and somewhat more socially complex – that of collective cinemagoing. We note that Padma’s aunt would feel confused and horrified on her first outing to a cinema – this is understandable as it was a first experience, and given the age of the young lady. But what is of perhaps even greater interest is that Padma’s mother “still gets confused now” – and which would suggest that the initial experience of home-viewing has left its indelible mark on the woman. This could point to a gender-specific reaction to Bollywood cinemagoing, based on the particular experiences of this gender in the UK. To the extent that this is accurate, one could say that Asian females would contribute to the cultural affiliation of cinemagoing through their own very particular meditative behaviour within cinema halls.

It is of some interest for us – given our focus on the East Ham region – that Padma’s mother would ultimately be visiting cinemas such as the Boleyn, amongst others. Padma informs us as follows: “Now we go to the cinema… there’s one in East Ham…” We assume that Padma must be referring to the Boleyn Cinema, it being the most obvious example of a Bollywood screen that has operated in the area [cf. Paper 4d, with respect to the history and operation of East Ham’s Boleyn Cinema].

Padma then goes on to describe the manner in which Asian females – including herself and other members or friends of her family – would experience such cinemagoing. Although we intend to focus a little more closely on the question of patron behaviour within cinema theatres further below, we may here simply quote what Padma has to say regarding such behaviour as it points to the specificity of Asian female experiences within cinemas. Padma writes: “I watched ‘Kabhie Kushie Kabhie Gham’ [this 2001 melodrama is also discussed by Krämer, cf. above; Krämer spells the title of the movie in a slightly different manner]... with my mum – me, my aunt, my cousin and like a whole group of Asian Bengali women friends of theirs… We were all crying right from the beginning and when Shah Rukh Khan comes out with his sequinned shirt, a friend of my mum’s comes over to us, like leans over to us, and says, ‘He bought his shirts in Green street!’ (laughter). We were all sitting there going, ‘is it good, is it good?’, ‘Yeah it’s good’, ‘Are we crying yet?’, ‘Yeah, we are!’… (laughter)” [pp. 51-52].

In condensed form, this quote certainly contains interesting data that may be used – as pointers – in trying to understand what it is that happens when Asian females assemble in a cinema hall so as to watch a Bollywood movie. Although, as mentioned, we intend to deal with the question of Asian behaviour within UK’s Bollywood screens elsewhere, we may at this point simply isolate the following features, all of which would deserve further research:

• What we have here is, first of all, a family outing to watch a Bollywood movie – but this is a specifically female family outing, and which is also accompanied by female friends of the family.

• The Bollywood movie is experienced or appreciated in a specifically female manner: above all, there seems to be an overwhelming female emotionality [“crying”].

• One can detect the almost “primordial” female obsession with clothes, and how such obsession is directly related to what is seen on the screen – by the way, we need notice the reference to Green Street in particular, which constitutes a major hub of clothes stores in the environs of East Ham [cf. Paper 4c, where we discuss ethnic-based attire worn in East Ham, and where clothes shops lining Green Street are discussed in much detail].

• We notice how the female company of patrons is continually talking, remarking and even moving around the cinema hall – as we shall see in discussing the question of behaviour [and precisely as we have seen in examining the cases of the Boleyn and Cineworld venues], this type of conduct is an almost ubiquitous phenomenon within UK screens exhibiting Bollywood films.

We shall conclude this short discussion regarding Asian women and the phenomenon of Bollywood by simply mentioning an issue of some relevance here, but which nonetheless seems to remain paradoxical. The issue concerns the overall number of Asian females that tend to watch Bollywood movies in the UK vis-à-vis that of the number of Asian males.

On the one hand, Krämer makes the following observation concerning the relative numbers of Asian males and females watching Bollywood movies in the UK – she writes: “… the existing research indicates that overall Bollywood-viewing in Britain is a more female than male pursuit. ‘Bollywood Batein’, for example, states that women ‘appeared to be the most avid viewers of Bollywood’…”

And yet, on the other hand, Krämer refers to the same source of information, Bollywood Batein, which is said to have found that “among the more conservative/older members of the Pakistani and Bangladeshi communities, cinema-going (in general) was regarded as a ‘male only’ activity and it was not felt to be appropriate behaviour for women to go”.

Of course, one may say that Asian women have preserved their avidity for Bollywood-viewing despite the alleged feelings of certain segments of their community who happen to be more “conservative” and/or who belong to older age-groups. Further below, we shall be discussing the fact that Bollywood-viewing is not a universally accepted activity amongst UK’s ethnic-based “cultural clusters” [and especially with respect to Muslim settlers]. It should in any case be admitted that one may find internal cultural and “moral” contradictions within whichever “cultural cluster”, however much a “cluster” may be cohesive in relation to other non-Asian socio-cultural groupings – and this is especially so given the full spectrum of generations that constitute any ethnic-based “cultural cluster”. This would naturally also apply to Bollywood cinemagoing as an ethnically coded activity practiced by different generation groups.

Local cultural affiliation – the question of youth

This now brings us to a consideration of the special question of youth and its role in local cultural affiliation and confirmation through the practice of Bollywood cinemagoing. Above, we have seen how the typical Asian audience of UK’s Bollywood screens is characterized by a definite “generational continuity” [as Krämer has put it]. Within this general age spectrum one must also include the presence of young people – from their pre-teens to the various stages of adolescence – in cinema theatres exhibiting the Bollywood genre.

We may begin this rather brief examination of the relationship between Asian youth and the Bollywood genre by presenting just one anecdotal sample of a young Asian East Hammer and his great love for Bollywood. In an article published in the Newham Recorder in 2019, we read as follows: “Haider Ali from East Ham was a huge fan of Indian movies before ending up in one after being spotted by the makers of the forthcoming comedy Mental Hai Kya, or Are you Mental?” [my emph.]. At the time of writing, Ali was a New City Primary School pupil aged eleven years old – he was therefore in his “tween” years. The Recorder further tells us that this young schoolboy “dreams of being a [Bollywood] star” and is now “a step closer after featuring in a Bollywood film” [cf. Jon King, “East Ham schoolboy to feature in Bollywood movie Mental Hai Kya”, Newham Recorder, 05.03.2019]. This case is of some interest in that it illustrates what Rajinder Kumar Dudrah has termed “creative collaboration” [cf. above], whereby an East Hammer may directly participate in the creation of a Bollywood movie. To the extent that it is mostly young diasporic Indians that engage in such “creative collaboration”, the whole process must serve to tighten relations between at least some of the UK’s young Asians and the Bollywood genre. While such latter observation may need further verification, we can in any case say at this point that the case of Haider Ali does point to a certain youthful affinity with the Bollywood genre. Ali’s love for Bollywood is not, as we shall see, an isolated case.

It is precisely because of such affinity with Bollywood that Banaji’s 2006 work focuses on “the young audiences” [as the title of her study indicates, cf. Paper 4d], and how such young audiences relate to Hindi films. And when Dudrah undertakes his own investigation [also in 2006] as to how “sociology goes to the movies” [cf. Paper 4d], it is the young South Asians that he focuses on, and how these “Diasporic South Asians… are… amalgamating and recreating Bollywood film cultures into their everyday social lives”.

Of course, it is an established fact that the role of youth in whatever socio-cultural formation is a complex one and, as in the case of the role of females, contributes to the internal contradictions of whichever socio-cultural formation [but without necessarily destabilizing it]. The manner in which UK’s Asian youth amalgamates and recreates the Bollywood genre in its own life is of course one particular manner in which the “cultural cluster” to which it belongs actually reproduces itself – it is in any case Bollywood per se that youngsters are amalgamating and recreating, and not [at least primarily] the cultural mores of Hollywood. And yet, the specific manner of youth cannot be equated to that of other age-groups – and further, such manner is itself internally heterogeneous depending on a variety of other variables, such as gender, level of education, income bracket, personal psychology, and so on. It is for this reason that Banaji is forced to make the following observation at the outset of her study – she writes: “… my observations and interviews in London suggest that young British-Asians have different and sometimes more ambivalent experiences watching Hindi films” [p. 53].

Both the difference in experience and the ambivalent reactions of UK’s Asian youth have to be kept in mind throughout whatever study of their life experiences vis-à-vis Bollywood – and yet, it would be of sociological importance to identify some common denominator underlying the experience of young Asian Bollywood audiences: it is the extent to which such commonality exists that is of major interest in an examination of ethnic-based “cultural clusters” and their relative internal cohesion.

A careful examination of Banaji’s research work on UK’s Asian youth certainly does allow us to trace some common denominator that seems to circumscribe the experiences of this particular category of people in relation to the Bollywood genre. It also allows us to trace certain important commonalities that circumscribe the experiences of both young and old, thereby establishing the “generational continuity” that we have referred to above.

Banaji examines the Bollywood cinemagoing practices of UK’s Asian youth by focusing on two distinct manners in which such cinemagoing occurs: firstly, in cases where young people visit a cinema with their families [Category 1] ; and secondly, in cases where young people visit a cinema with their friends [Category 2]. She then goes on to subdivide both of these two basic categories of cinemagoing into three respective reasons as to why young people would choose to participate in such social activities. We may present – and attempt to interpret – her analysis as follows:

• Category 1; reason 1: Asian youth watch a Bollywood movie together with their families “with willing participation in such a cultural bonding ritual and form of sociable entertainment” [p. 53, my emph.]. In this important case, young people willfully or consciously participate in practices – with their family networks – that bolster local cultural affiliation and confirmation of their identity-based “cultural clusters”. Here, the common denominator of ethnic identity and cultural choice applies both in relation to older generations as also amongst the very youngsters themselves.

• Category 1; reason 2: Asian youth watch a Bollywood movie together with their families “as reluctant adjuncts to parents, ‘dragged’ along but preferring Hollywood films” [ibid]. In this particular case, we have a segment of Asian youth which does, in the last instance, de facto bolster the Asian family unit – and thus the “cultural cluster” – through the medium of Bollywood cinemagoing. But these youngsters do this unwillingly so, being more attracted to the Hollywood genre [it has already been noted above that Bollywood-viewing does not always and necessarily exclude Hollywood-watching]. The basic point here is that the Asian “culture cluster” maintains its cohesion through a grudging obedience on the part of youth – and thus Bollywood-viewing yet again wins the day.

• Category 1; reason 3: Asian youth watch a Bollywood movie together with their families “as passive members of families willing to participate but not particularly interested in the films” [ibid.]. Here, the participation of youngsters in Bollywood cinemagoing with their parents is conscious and willful, albeit passive. Yet again, we have a de facto bolstering of the Asian “cultural cluster” through the medium of the Bollywood genre. By the way, the question of Asian youth “passivity” – which ought not to be reduced to a mere grudging obedience to parents, though may be related to it – raises the issue of the parent-offspring interface within ethnic-based “cultural clusters”, and it thus definitely deserves in-depth research in investigating the formation of internal cohesion within such “clusters” [this matter, of course, is well beyond the scope of this paper].

• Category 2; reason 1: Asian youth watch a Bollywood movie together with their friends “for pleasure because all are Hindi film fans” [ibid., my emph.]. Here we have a clear case of an overarching cultural cohesion amongst young people which willy-nilly bolsters local cultural affiliation and confirmation of their Asian “cultural cluster”. The case is important, in that youngsters bolster their ethnic identity spontaneously and absolutely independently of their parents. The almost subconscious spontaneity of the matter is clearly evident in that youngsters do not deliberately choose to watch a Bollywood movie for any reason other than that they simply enjoy doing so. The pleasure they get out of the Bollywood genre is simply “automatic”, so to speak. This case is indicative of a common cultural denominator across age-groups, albeit expressed “from a distance” between the old and the young within the context of the “generational continuity” referred to above.

• Category 2; reason 2: Asian youth watch a Bollywood movie together with their friends “because there is a need to show allegiance/loyalty to distinctively ‘Asian’ as opposed to ‘Western’ cultural forms” [ibid., my emph.]. This extremely important sub-category of Bollywood cinemagoing speaks for itself: young Asians consciously reject “Western” cultural norms and deliberately wish to assert their adherence to the ideology of “Indianness” – and do that independently of whatever ethical or other “obligations” to their families. That they assert their own “Indianness” independently of their parents yet again points to a common cultural denominator with the older generations of the “cultural cluster” to which they belong, and which is again expressed “from a distance”.

• Category 2; reason 3: Asian youth watch a Bollywood movie together with their friends as a result of “a mixture of both these attitudes” [ibid.] – viz. for reasons combining both 1 and 2 of the present Category 2. The obvious implication here is that Asian youth indulge in Bollywood cinemagoing because it offers them, not only youthful pleasure, but also an opportunity to assert their non-Western Indian identity. Need we say that, yet once more, there is an implicit common cultural denominator that consolidates the overall cohesion of the ethnic-based “cultural cluster”.

It is not for us to measure the accuracy of Banaji’s research findings – to the extent that what she has found more or less approximates the reality of UK’s Asian youth, we may draw the following very basic conclusions:

• All of the cases of youthful Bollywood-viewing that she has identified tend, in the last instance, to bolster the cohesion of the ethnic-based “cultural cluster”.

• Such bolstering of cohesion may take place in a manner that is not necessarily willful [as in the case of a grudging obedience to parents – Category 1; reason 2].

• Alternatively, the bolstering may take place through a youthful attitude that is somewhere in-between conscious will and the absence of will [as in the case of a passive acceptance of parental initiative – Category 1; reason 3].

• All the other identified cases of youthful Bollywood-viewing – be it Category 1; reason 1, or Category 2; reasons 1-3 – fully bolster the ethnic-based “cultural cluster” in an absolutely conscious and/or willful manner, and do so either with or even without the participation of family networks.

Banaji concludes her observations based on this particular set of findings as follows: “… almost all of those whom I interviewed were self-declared fans of Hindi cinema…” [my emph.].

Categorizing the different forms of youthful cinemagoing, and further categorizing the alleged intentions behind such cinemagoing, can be useful – it may help illuminate what it is that truly happens when young Asians watch a Bollywood movie and it may help to highlight common cultural denominators that have come to characterize the different members of a community. But while we may accept the basic findings of such method, we should at the same time acknowledge the limits of whatever categorization – all forms of categorizing are ipso facto abstractions of reality. The complexity of the young Asian mindset is evident when Banaji interviews the 22-year-old Padma [cf. above]. Evaluating this young person’s views regarding Bollywood movies, Banaji has no choice but to admit such complexity – as she writes: “… [Padma’s] assessments of the films’ ideologies moved, like those of many of the young viewers I interviewed, between critical skepticism and acceptance, depending on the extent of her cultural, political and life experience in relevant areas” [p. 52].

And yet, and despite such complexity, Banaji can detect that young Padma’s relationship to the Bollywood genre – whether at a personal or social level – was in the last instance a confirmation of the identity of her own ethnic-based “cultural cluster”. This is how Banaji puts it: “Padma’s viewing of Hindi films was, at different times, social and personal, a link to her community roots and an enjoyable pastime” [ibid., my emph.].

This perception of a young person’s linkage to the community, however, is itself complex. In examining the different categories of cinemagoing above, we noticed cases where young Asians would only grudgingly accompany their parents to the cinema, or they would visit a Bollywood theatre without the company of their parents. They would thereby assert their independence vis-à-vis their parents – by extension, they would also be asserting their independence vis-à-vis certain segments of the community itself. Thus, and as in the case of Asian females, youngsters would have their own preferred screening time for Bollywood movies. While, as we have seen, Asian females would prefer daytime shows, youthful Asians – as a relatively autonomous social category – would prefer evening showings. The reasons for this are of great interest, relating either to their particular responsibilities as students, or to their perceived relations with family networks. Banaji notes: “When I asked young people outside evening showings of Hindi films why they don’t go during the daytime, responses varied from, ‘Why would I go anywhere where I can bump into my relatives?’ and ‘I’ve got school/college’…” [pp. 50-51]. It is as interesting to note how such youthful cinemagoing practices would determine the “atmosphere” within a cinema theatre [cf. Paper 4d with respect to the “atmosphere” that has prevailed within the Boleyn and Cineworld cinemas] – Banaji writes: “The character of the audience totally changes the character of the film experience” [this matter will be discussed further below in examining patron behaviour within cinema venues].

Both the linkage to community roots and the relative autonomy of the youthful mindset are absolutely real realities that can both contradict and complement each other. Their complementary nature is evident in a variety of ways – all such ways come down to what Dudrah has called the “amalgamation” and “recreation” of Bollywood film culture into the everyday social lives of South Asian youth [cf. above]. He provides us with a perfect example of how such youngsters “amalgamate” and “recreate” Bollywood popular cultural activities by referring to a very special use of the mobile phone on the part of this age-group. Dudrah tells us that he has observed the emergence of mobile text messages using “the vocabulary of Hinglish” – viz. “spoken Bollywood film Hindi and English words articulated together”. Such youthful “Hinglish”, he explains, constitutes an “urban street slang” amongst the young South Asians residing in the UK [my emph., throughout].

While the use of the “Hinglish” slang in mobile text messages certainly does point to a youthful rootedness in the cultural practices of their “cultural cluster”, there are nonetheless still other important pieces of evidence that point to a similar direction. One such is the manner in which young female South Asians are dressed on visiting a Bollywood screen. In Paper 4c, we have discussed how the type of ethnic-based attire worn in a locality such as East Ham could be “semiotically charged”, “powerfully coded” and essentially a “signifier of difference” – and we further examined how a piece of clothing such as the Salwar Kameez could “carry” all of such cultural values. Now, on recording her observations of young audiences watching Bollywood films in the UK, Banaji notes that she had seen “Twelve teenage-looking girls, all but three dressed in salwar kameez” [p. 50, my emph.]. We do understand that such evidence may be considered anecdotal, and from which it would be unwise to draw any general conclusions regarding Asian youth attire in cinema venues. On the other hand, the popularity of the Salwar Kameez amongst female South Asians of various ages has more or less been verified in our examination of ethnic-based attire [cf. Paper 4c]. One may therefore say that Banaji’s observation seems to at least complement our own findings regarding ethnic-based attire as worn in UK’s Asian “cultural clusters” generally.

We can conclude at this point that both the use of “Hinglish” and the choice of ethnic attire amongst young South Asians points to a certain rootedness within their “cultural cluster” – both the special usage of the mobile phone and the special choice of attire are cultural practices closely entangled with the Bollywood cinemagoing phenomenon in the UK. As already mentioned, this is not at all meant to deny the generational differences that do apply to Bollywood audiences – and yet, such differences do not annul the common cultural denominator that also applies across the “generational continuity” of such audiences. Regarding the question of generational differences versus trans-generational conformity within the UK’s typical Indian family, one may briefly mention here the work of Marie Gillespie, Television, Ethnicity and Cultural Change, Routledge, London, 1995. This work, which focuses on the “consumption” of televised Hindi films by Punjabi youth in the UK, draws three basic conclusions: [i] there are identifiable differences in the manner whereby different generations within the India family “consume” the televised Hindi films; [ii] by watching such films, Punjabi youth “recreates” for itself the cultural traditions defining the Punjabi diaspora; [iii] generally, Punjabi youngsters both “challenge” and “reaffirm” parental traditions.

Bollywood audiences in the UK: patron behaviour in cinema venues

Having dwelt on the special categories that constitute UK’s Bollywood audiences – from the Hindu family unit to Asian females and the Asian youth population – we may now briefly examine Bollywood audiences in the UK by observing their behaviour in various cinema venues. All that is presented below regarding patron behaviour should be read side-by-side with our own findings regarding the Boleyn and the Cineworld cinemas [cf. Paper 4d]: both sets of data fully verify one another.

Banaji makes the following observations as regards what happens during the viewing of a Bollywood movie in the UK: “Little boys wander around and talk to their parents, climb over seats and ask for food. Several of the older women chat softly during songs and some even get up to walk around or change seats to get a different view… The older women are at pains to ensure that some of the young women are enjoying the film. It appears that the choice of outing was theirs and several times I hear the question, ‘Well, what do you think?’, and replies like, ‘It was quite boring but it’s looking up now’, ‘The acting isn’t that good, but Karishma’s sarees are good’, or ‘The songs aren’t that good’ from jeans-wearing teenage girls to their aunts/mothers” [p. 50]. This quote encompasses a variety of types of behaviour within the cinema theatre that need not be further discussed as they all speak for themselves – interestingly, we yet again notice the apparent female obsession with clothes, in this case with reference to “Karishma’s sarees” [cf. our discussion of Asian women audiences above, and their reference to Green Street clothes shops].

Specifically as regards the behaviour of young children in the course of daytime shows [which, as already mentioned above, happens to be the preferred screening time for Asian females], Banaji notes: “The manner in which younger children walked around during the showing and moved seats was another feature common to most daytime showings”.

With respect to Bollywood audiences of both sexes and of various age-groups, Banaji further observes that “Some sit together before the show to exchange news, although they move to sit with families when previews begin” [ibid.]. This quote again verifies the importance of the family unit in watching a Bollywood move, and especially in determining audience behaviour within the theatre: many patrons ultimately gather together as families as they settle down to watch their film [to the extent, that is, that they ever do settle down – cf. our notes regarding both the Boleyn and the Cineworld venues].

Finally, Banaji also makes a rather important observation regarding the behaviour of young Asians within theatres, and which could be symptomatic of the mores and cultural practices of an age-group that tends to “reaffirm” parental values [cf. above] – she writes as follows: “There is absolutely no flirting, no holding hands, no young people sit together…” [ibid., my emph.]. One may assume here that this type of youthful behaviour would more often occur when in the presence of parents within an auditorium – but given the lack of specific data on this matter, it shall have to remain an open question.

The Bollywood phenomenon in the UK: its function as an alternative culture

Our overall discussion of the Bollywood genre in the UK – and especially as regards its function in the cultural bonding of Asian “cultural clusters” – seems to verify the idea that this socio-cultural phenomenon is such as to delineate a difference between itself and the rest of UK’s “cultural clusters” – it may thus be said to operate as an alternative to all of the rest of the cultural practices that prevail in the country. We shall end this first section of our present paper by dwelling on the idea of UK’s Bollywood as being “different” and “alternative” vis-à-vis the rest. The following points are here presented as food for thought:

• Krämer’s research work draws the general conclusion that, despite Bollywood’s supposed “transculturality”, it is a genre which – at least as regards the case of the UK – has emerged as a phenomenon of “difference” [from the rest], of “distance” [from the rest] and/or of “Othering” [this latter designation, however, is a presumptuous little term simply suggesting that the genre views non-Asians as “others” or as cultural “aliens”]. This is how Krämer summarizes her own findings: “… Bollywood emerges as a phenomenon of difference and Othering. For although Bollywood is a global media form and can therefore be read as an index of transculturality, in the British context its connotations of Indianness often have the result that (cultural) difference is in fact emphasized”. Krämer’s conclusion, of course, seems to be closely related to Gary Younge’s observation [op. cit.] that the Bollywood phenomenon as practiced in the UK constitutes a “parallel universe” to the point of being a “segregated experience”. The implications of such suggestions are, to say the least, of much importance as regards the general thrust of our own project in investigating the locality of East Ham.

• Also closely related to the above, Krämer has drawn the conclusion that UK’s Bollywood genre must be “appreciated as an important alternative to Hollywood’s morals, values, storytelling styles and implications of cultural imperialism” [my emph.]. With respect to “cultural imperialism”, Bollywood must be appreciated as a genre that offers Asians an ideological discourse functioning as an alternative to such “imperialism”.

• Dudrah’s work, by way of an example, fully complements Krämer’s findings regarding the functioning of Bollywood as an alternative ideological force – he writes: “… Bollywood is able to serve alternative cultural and social representations away from dominant white ethnocentric audio-visual possibilities” [my emph.]. We need note Dudrah’s important reference to the “dominant white” ethnocentrism within the UK socio-cultural formation – above all, of course, he is pointing to the “hegemony” of Hollywoodian morals, values and styles.

An examination of sample movies screened in the Boleyn and Cineworld venues

We are now ready to undertake an examination of the types of Bollywood movies that have been exhibited in venues such as East Ham’s Boleyn Cinema and Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema. In this second section of the present Paper 4e, we shall thus return to a presentation of more empirical data retrieved in the course of our own work and in line with our research as presented in Paper 4d.

Sample movies shown at the Boleyn Cinema

In 2019, the Boleyn Cinema would be showing the Bollywood movie entitled “Bharat”, which in English simply means “India” [and which in this case refers to the name of the film’s protagonist]. This Hindi-language drama film was directed by Ali Abbas Zafar.

It is of great interest to present the manner in which Zafar considers his own work in the Bollywood genre – this is what he has to say: “We need to be proud of who we are [as Indians]. When you sit inside a theatre and see a film which deals with human emotions and with that, when you make sure there is an extra thread which makes you feel proud of what our country and value systems stand for, it automatically raises the bar… To be patriotic and nationalistic is a good thing. It brings people together… I am a proud Indian and I would like to see my country up there, to set a bar that we are no less in terms of the technology and intelligence that we have” [cf. Shilpa Jamkhandikar, “Interview: Ali Abbas Zafar on… nationalism”, https://www.reuters.com, 20.12.2017, my emph.]. It goes without saying that Zafar’s own understanding of his work as a Bollywood moviemaker should be compared and contrasted to all that has been discussed in the first part of this Paper 4e – and especially with respect to the intrinsically “political” function of the Bollywood genre.

Perhaps it is in the context of such clearly – although not exclusively – ideological strategy, that Zafar’s “Bharat” should be evaluated. It is a movie that is said to focus on India’s history – according to Wikipedia: “It traces India’s post-independence history from the perspective of a common man and follows his life from the age of 8 to 70”. A review of the film written by Renuka Vyavahare in the Times of India tells us that this movie is an ode to the Indian family and its “noble” struggles to survive in the course of over six decades, from 1947 to 2010 [cf. https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 06.06.2019]. Writing in the Firstpost, Anna MM Vetticad describes “Bharat” as a “hesitantly political” film, a “plodding trek through history” [cf. https://www.firstpost.com, 05.06.2019].

Zafar’s focus on the proud history of a struggling nation is perhaps best encapsulated in the words of the protagonist’s father – these are the words to his son, Bharat: “A nation is made up of people, and people’s identity comes from their family. The whole country resides in you, Bharat”. The reference to the “nation” [or “the whole country”] is naturally related to the ideology of “Indianness” as discussed above; the focus on “family” would automatically have appealed to the typical audiences of the Boleyn Cinema which – as we have seen in Paper 4d – have been primarily composed of the Asian joint family unit.

This movie was released in India on June 5, 2019, and it was released on the exact same day in East Ham’s Boleyn Cinema [cf. the cinema’s Facebook Page, “Boleyn Cinemas UK”, which informs us that “Bharat directed by Ali Abbas Zafar… is all set to release in the UK on June 5th!”]. We have already discussed elsewhere this simultaneous interaction between India’s Bollywood industry and the cinemas of the UK exhibiting Bollywood movies for Asian “cultural clusters” [cf. Paper 4d].

In 2020, the Boleyn Cinema would be showing the movie entitled “Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo”, directed by Trivikram Srinivas. Quite a number of East Ham locals [patrons such as Raghu Manchambatla and Murali V. – cf. Paper 4d] have indicated in their Google Reviews that they had visited the Boleyn Cinema so as to watch this particular film, which is a Telugu-language Tollywood production [cf. Paper 4d concerning the Tollywood film industry]. The title of the movie is based on words taken from a famous Telugu poem and means the palace [or house/building/home] where the God Vishnu resides [cf., inter alia, Suhdakar Rao, https://www.quora.com, 26.06.2021].

The director of this movie, Trivikram Srinivas, has always taken a keen interest in Telugu literature [cf. “A Memoir on Trivikram Srinivas”, https://www.ciniphile.wordpress.com, 09.08.2020]. The film itself pays tribute to famous Tollywood personalities; its storyline, further, is said to be intertwined with Telugu folk dances. We may therefore safely say that “Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo” is a motion picture targeting above all Asian audiences attracted to Telugu culture.

Such culture is centered around the joint family unit – in response to this reality, we are told that “Trivikram’s craft is known for [themes such as] courtship, family and marriage” [cf. Wikipedia]. In the movie under discussion, the director “weaves a family drama” [cf. Jalapathy Gudelli, https://www.sify.com/movies, 28.01.2020]. His purpose is to narrate a story wherein the protagonist struggles for the protection of the biological family unit, and especially when such unit is under threat.

It is said that “Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo” is “a feel-good family entertainer” [cf. Jalapathy Gudelli, op. cit.], which in some sense makes of it an “escapist” movie. Of course, for an Asian settler in the UK, this type of Tollywood movie enables him/her to “escape” from the reality of a relatively alien environment and to “escape” into a world that is expressive of Telugu values. In the movie, that which one may “escape” into is precisely that of “Vaikunthapurramuloo” – viz., and as alluded to above, one’s own “home” [on this point, cf. Neeshita Nyayapati, https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 13.01.2020].

Also in 2020, the Boleyn Cinema would be screening the movie entitled “Pattas” [which, according to Wikipedia, means “Firecracker” in English]. This is an Indian Tamil-language martial arts film produced in that same year – as a Tamil production, it belongs to the Kollywood sub-type of the Bollywood genre [cf. Paper 4d]. It was written and directed by R.S. Durai Senthilkumar, who comes from Karur, a city located in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu.

The storyline of this motion picture is fairly simple and is described by a Times of India review as follows: “A petty thief comes to know of his illustrious father and takes on the man who murdered him to bring to limelight [sic] the ancient martial art form that his father practiced” [cf. https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 15.01.2020]. By the way, the protagonist is played by Dhanush, who works predominantly in the Tamil cinema.

The narrative discourse of “Pattas” may be said to have a double intention: [i] to glorify what we may call “fatherhood” [and which relates to the importance of the Tamil family unit] and [ii] to glorify the “ancient” or traditional culture of the Tamil. The Times of India review identifies this double purpose as follows: the protagonist struggles “to avenge the murder of his father,… and bring glory to Adimurai, the ancient martial arts form that he [the son, like the late father] practiced” [ibid.].

Firstly, as regards the importance of Tamil “fatherhood”, a review written by the Behindwoods Review Board tells us that “a major chunk of the plot” revolves around how the dead father “influences” the son [cf. https://www.behindwoods.com, 15.01.2020].

Secondly, as regards the equally important Tamil traditional culture, Sreedhar Pillai – writing in Firstpost – makes the following important observations: “Kollywood commercial cinema makers love to dwell on the forgotten arts or ‘rich Tamil traditional culture’, which had its roots in villages. Here [in the movie], we are reminded of the Tamil traditional but forgotten martial art form Adimurai…, which used to flourish in villages of the [Tamil Nadu] state” [cf. https://www.firstpost.com, 15.01.2020, my emph.].

“Pattas”, therefore, is a movie that seeks to raise Tamil cultural awareness – it does so by delving into one of the many dimensions of age-old Tamil cultural practices. A review written by “Moviebuzz” confirms this as follows: “Pattas serves to raise awareness on Adimurai, a less heard of traditional martial art form of Tamil Nadu” [cf. https://sify.com/movies, 28.01.2020, my emph.]. Similarly, the Times of India review [op. cit] informs us as follows: “Every once in a while, our Tamil filmmakers stumble upon a forgotten or dying ancient art form and come up with a film glorifying it and bringing it to public consciousness… With Pattas, Durai Senthilkumar wants to do for Adimurai, a less heard of traditional martial art form from Tamil Nadu, what Indian [a 1996 film directed by S. Shankar] did for Varmakalai [inter alia, a form of Tamil alternative medicine] and 7aum Arivu [a 2011 film directed by A.R. Murugadoss] did for Bhodi Dharman [a legendary Buddhist monk and former South Indian Tamil prince]” [my emph.].

Based on the latter quote, we note that “Pattas” is therefore only one amongst many other Kollywood films that seeks to raise Tamil cultural consciousness.

Sreedhar Pillai [op. cit.] gives us some information on the target audiences of a motion picture such as “Pattas”, although he limits his observations to the case of India exclusively – this is what he writes: “Durai [the writer/director] writes his stories keeping the emerging urban youth, and tier-1 and -2 family audiences in mind. It makes sense as Dhanush fans love him as a city dweller and a rural guy who wears Veshti”. We should note, firstly, that “tier-1 and -2 family audiences” refers to families living in India’s metropolitan cities and/or densely populated urban areas. Secondly, we note that a “Veshti” is a traditional Tamil Nadu attire that is closely related to the Dhoti – cf. Paper 4c, with respect to the Dhoti, where we have seen that this attire is also worn by some Asians in a locality such as East Ham. Although this quote is specifically focused on the case of India, it does raise a series of questions regarding audiences in the UK. Some of these questions are the following:

• To what extent would the urban youth of a locality such as East Ham be attracted to an “ancient” or traditional form of Tamil martial art? And in what particular manner would they express such attraction? The matter calls for further research, although it is beyond the scope of this paper on the Bollywood genre – merely for the sake of interest, we note that various martial arts classes do take place in the locality of East Ham [cf. Paper 4a, where we examined in some detail the “Silat” martial arts training sessions taking place in the area, but which concerned Muslim youth in particular].

• To what extent would the young people of a locality such as East Ham be attracted to a generic type of cultural figure – such as that of Dhanush – who combines urban and rural cultural paradigms in his mode of life and/or mode of attire? Again, the question would have to delve into the manner in which East Ham youth would be attracted to such urban-rural hybrid, if at all. That type of issue, of course, can only be approached through extensive on-the-ground research. All we can say at this point is that the Bollywood genre has generally promoted such urban-rural relationship through its discourse of “Indianness”, and especially through the manner in which many Bollywood films have presented a tight articulation between the virtues of traditionality and the life of Indian modernity [cf. our discussions in the first part of this paper].

• To what extent would the typical Asian Easthammer family-as-a-whole empathize with the “Pattas” hero and what he represents? The question cannot be answered without keeping in mind all that has been discussed in the first part of this paper. Generally speaking, we may simply reiterate here that it was the Indian family that the creators of the “Pattas” movie had in mind as their prime target audience. Sreedhar Pillai [op. cit.] notes that “Pattas” is “a typical Kollywood festival special… targeted at… family audiences”. And “Moviebuzz” [op. cit.] writes as follows: “On the whole, ‘Pattas’ is packaged as a commercial entertainer for Pongal family audiences”. “Pongal” [or “Diwali”] refers to the multi-day traditional “harvest festival” of South India, particularly in the Tamil community – we have seen how “Diwali” celebrations are also consistently practiced throughout the Hindu community of the East Ham area [cf. Paper 4c, where we discuss the relationship between this festival and the purchasing of particular ethnic-based attire].

It was also in 2020 that the Boleyn Cinema would be screening the movie entitled “Sarileru Neekevvaru”, written and directed by Anil Ravipudi, who works in the Telugu cinema. This is therefore a 2020 Telugu-language Tollywood movie that has been presented as an “action comedy” – the movie title may be translated as “Nobody can match me” [cf. Wikipedia]. Shubham Kulkarni tells us that “The film revolves around… a proud Army officer… [It] begins in the beautiful valley of Kashmir as the Indian Army… conducts a sudden hit operation” [cf. https://www.koimoi.com, 11.01.2020].

We shall need to dwell on this particular motion picture in perhaps some greater detail as it constitutes an excellent example of the Bollywoodian discourse of “Indianness”, a central theme referred to throughout this present Paper 4e [as also Paper 4d]. We may begin by presenting its basic storyline. In a review written in the Times of India, Neeshita Nyayapati explains that “Ajay Krishna (Mahesh Babu) is an orphan and a soldier serving at Kashmir” [cf. https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 11.01.2020]. She continues: “Ajay Krishna… is the true-blue soldier posted at Kashmir who will disable bombs without safety suit on and walk into operations without a helmet on his head – that’s how you know he likes to live life on the edge and is the hero because he has nothing to lose” [ibid.].

Another major character in the storyline is Professor Bharathi [played by Satti Vijayashanthi, who also happens to be a leader of the nationalistic Bharatiya Janata Party and is above all considered “The Action Queen of Indian Cinema”]. In the story, and according to Neeshita Nyayapati, “Professor Bharathi… is a righteous professor and single mother of three, with one son already lost during [military] service” [ibid.]. Nyayapati explains further: “Professor Bharathi… is a patriotic woman and a single mother who has lost her eldest child when he was serving in the army and is yet ready to send her second son (Satya Dev) to serve too” [ibid.].

Nyayapati tells us that “How Ajay steps up when she’s in trouble [i.e. the professor] forms the crux of the story” [ibid.].

In a Greatandhra review, Venkat Arikatla clarifies the film’s storyline even further – he writes as follows: “Major Ajay Krishna (Mahesh Babu) who is stationed in Kashmir army base leaves for Kurnool to inform professor Bharati [sic] (Vijayashanthi) that her son Ajay (Satyadev) is battling for life after getting severely injured in an operation… During his train journey, he meets a girl Sankruthi (Rashmika). Once he lands in Kurnool, he comes to know that Bharati lost her job and is hiding in a faraway place when a politician threatened her… How Ajay Krishna takes up her battle as his and what is [sic] the issues she is facing is the rest of the drama” [cf. https://www.greatandhra.com, 06.03.2020].

It is absolutely important to point out that this storyline carries a distinct and intentional message – beyond doubt, therefore, we can say that “Sarileru Neekevvaru” is a “committed” or an ideologically “engaged” film. Nyayapati [op. cit.] explains such intentionality on the part of the film’s director as follows: “… Anil seems to want to hammer the message home instead of letting the audience think. The jokes get repetitive, so do the scenes, the catch lines and all that talk of soldiers serving at the border and patriotism, greatness of Alluri Seetharama Raju are repeated so much, you just wish there was a way to tell the director you get it!” [my emph.]. By the way, we should note that Alluri Seetharama [or Sitarama] Raju is a well-known “Indian revolutionary” who had been involved in the Indian independence movement of the late-19th/early-20th century. Leader of the “Rampa Rebellion” of 1922, he had been executed by the British [cf. Wikipedia]. The film’s reference to this overly patriotic historical figure tells us precisely what it is that informs Anil Ravipudi’s ideological “message” to his audiences.

One such message is that Indians should “serve their country” and be “protective” of its people – Nyayapati writes: “Mahesh Babu does a good job of playing a man who will serve the country, crack jokes and protect” [ibid.]. A review written by IndiaGlitz informs us of the intentions of the movie as follows: “The film is an advertisement for compulsory army training, which the hero paints as an elixir of all ills plaguing the society” [cf. https://www.indiaglitz.com, 11.01.2020].

The intentional message, therefore, is clearly didactic – the hero of the movie is prone to delivering near-endless speeches meant to instruct ideologically. As Arikatla [op. cit.] observes: “His [Ajay Krishna’s] loud talking and speeches also irritate sometimes but this is an intentional act” [my emph.].

There is, above all, a definite Indian “nationalistic fervour” that characterizes the ideological discourse of “Sarileru Neekevvaru” – it is a value-laden motion picture promoting a well-defined moral system. Most importantly, it is just one in a long string of Bollywood and/or Tollywood movies that do exactly that. When Manoj Kumar R. wishes to introduce “Sarileru Neekevvaru” in his review of the film published in The Indian Express, he places it in a particular context which he describes as follows: “Our mainstream movies are a solid way to gauge the mood of the day. And if you look at the kind of movies that have been making big bucks at the box office… in Bollywood, it is clear as day that nationalistic fervour is on the rise” [cf. https://www.indianexpress.com, 12.01.2020, my emph.]. The IndiaGlitz review [op. cit.] tells us of “highly charged and patriotic scenes” and of how the protagonist plays what is referred to as a “moral science universe” role [viz. promotes a moral system akin to “Indianness”]. A review by Sageetha Devi Dundoo, published in The Hindu, further informs us as follows: “Mahesh’s introduction happens in Kashmir where he stands in awe and respect of the Indian flag…” [cf. https://www.thehindu.com., 17.01.2020]. It is obvious, therefore, that the narrative of the movie is deeply value-laden, and especially as regards Telugu moral values as part and parcel of “Indianness”.

The Telugu-specific “nationalistic fervour” is evident in a variety of ways, not least in the movie’s rather stirring “Sarileru anthem” [called as such by many reviewers], and which is sung in the Telugu language. The film’s Telugu-specific cultural orientation would mean that its nationalism is further coloured by traits expressive of the Telugu ethnolinguistic group [evident both in India and in the Telugu diaspora]. Manoj Kumar R. [op. cit.] points to this specific cultural element in his review of the film – he writes: “Mahesh Babu has played the role of Major Ajay in his latest movie Sarileru Neekevvaru. Ajay may be a trained soldier, but he’s a quintessential fan of Telugu cinema at heart. He behaves like a typical Telugu hero, who is very particular about his looks and his judgments are driven by hyper-masculinity” [my emph.]. And he continues: “Sarileru Neekevvaru is all about man, masculinity and manhood. Anil Ravipudi unapologetically establishes that being aggressive is the key quality of a ‘complete man’. However, he has been reasonable when it comes to the handling of patriotism. It really strikes a chord, when Ajay asks civilians to behave responsibly in society to honour the sacrifices that our soldiers make to protect them at the border” [my emph.]. It is also interesting to note that the setting of Kurnool has often been used to shoot Telugu-language Tollywood movies – Manoj Kumar R. makes the following observation: “The actual story is set in Kurnool in Rayalaseema region, which has been an inspiration for numerous violent Telugu films for decades now”.

Generally speaking, one may at this point underline that that which defines a movie such as “Sarileru Neekevvaru” is a combination of certain specific elements, many of which may be said to define the Bollywood genre as-a-whole. The definitive elements – albeit not at all exclusive of others – are the following:

• The element of patriotism or nationalism in the movie’s ideological discourse [and which may be coloured by particular cultural dimensions of one of India’s ethnolinguistic groups, such as the Telugu for example];

• A large-budget production intended for “blockbuster” status, and thus also making use of India’s superstars;

• A preference for the “Masala” type of movie [cf. Paper 4d] – this type is a mixed genre type of Bollywoodian film that may combine action, comedy, romance, drama and/or melodrama.

All of the above elements definitely apply to “Sarileru Neekevvaru”. Quite a number of reviewers point to all or at least some of these elements in their appraisal of the movie. Manoj Kumar R. [op. cit.], for instance, writes as follows: “Telugu actor Mahesh Babu is the latest to hop on the bandwagon of big movie stars who want to look cool while riding the wave of patriotism”.

Similarly, Sageetha Devi Dundoo [op. cit.] describes the movie by informing us that it constitutes “an entertaining cocktail of masala, comedy and nationalism”. And she continues: “Unlike the recent Hindi films that stoke the fervour of nationalism in all seriousness, when a Telugu superstar plays an Army officer, there’s room for mass masala moments with a rousing background score by Devi Sri Prasad”.

Finally, and as already noted above, this “cool” Telugu superstar playing in a blockbuster movie as is “Sarileru Neekevvaru” has to carry on his back – so to speak – the heroic tradition of an “Indian revolutionary”, Alluri Seetharama [or Sitarama] Raju. And thus Dundoo observes: “Anil Ravipudi isn’t content showing Mahesh Babu as a superstar, he compares him to Alluri Sitarama Raju”.

Sample movies shown at the Cineworld Cinema

In 2015, the Cineworld Cinema would be screening a major Hindi-language Bollywood movie, entitled “Bajirao Mastani”. It would prove to be very popular around the globe amongst Asians, as also amongst locals of the Ilford-East Ham region and other areas of the UK with an Asian population. We may remind ourselves of one patron of the Cineworld Cinema who had, in 2015, written as follows [cf. Paper 4d, already quoted therein]: “Having read most of the [Google] reviews here I was worried about my Cinema trip to Ilford (all the way from Cockfosters) to see the 1740hrs screening of Bajirao Mastani yesterday. My niece and I were pleasantly surprised!!!...” According to Wikipedia, this movie had grossed over 356 crore [denoting ten million] rupees at the box office, thus becoming a major commercial success and one of the highest-grossing Indian films of all time. It was also one of the most expensive Bollywood films ever produced.

“Bajirao Mastani” is an epic historical romance movie directed by Sanjay Leela Bhansali. Based on the Marathi [or Maharashtrian] novel Rau by Nagnath S. Inamdar [1923-2002], the movie narrates the story of the Maratha “Peshwa” Bajirao [1700-1740 AD] and his second wife, Mastani. It should be noted that Bajirao had been the seventh “Peshwa” [or “Prime Minister”] of the great Maratha Empire – the man is considered by many to be the greatest Indian cavalry general.

Srijana Mitra Das, writing in the Times of India, introduces the movie as follows: “Legendary warrior Peshwa Bajirao battles Mughals but falls in love with half-Muslim Mastani – what happens when Bajirao’s family declares war on his love?” [cf. https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 21.12.2015]. This question seems to be the crux of this historical romance movie. The Mughals, by the way, were a Muslim dynasty of Turkic-Mongol origin that had ruled most of northern India from the early-16th to mid-18th centuries.

The theme of “Bajirao Mastani” is representative of the overall work of film director, Sanjay Leela Bhansali. In a review of the movie written by Mike McCahill in The Guardian, we are informed as follows: “Since the millennium, the writer-director-composer Sanjay Leela Bhansali has fashioned a series of ornate wonders from mythological and historical material” [cf. https://www.theguardian.com, 23.12.2015, my emph.].

As is apparent, this particular movie draws on very specific historical material. Reviewer Uday Bhatia, writing in Mint, calls it “a historical epic” replete with “high drama”. And continues: “His [the director’s] is a cinema of grand gestures and raised voices, weeping string sections and poetic destruction” [cf. https://www.livemint.com, 18.12.2015]. The movie is therefore also typical of the “grand old Bollywood style” [ibid.]. It thereby fully satisfies at least one definitive element of the Bollywood genre – viz. it is definitely intended for “blockbuster” status [cf. above]. Shubhra Gupta, writing in The Indian Express, confirms this as follows: “From the first frame, you know you are in a Sanjay Leela Bhansali film. Everything is scaled up, grander than grand, a-glitter” [cf. https://www.indianexpress.com, 18.12.2015].

We may now briefly present the storyline of “Bajirao Mastani”. It is Bhatia [op. cit.] who perhaps most clearly outlines the narrative plot – we read as follows: “After the soldier princess Mastani (Padukone) tracks him down and requests his help, Bajirao (Singh) and his army come to the defence of Bundelkhand, which is under siege from the Mughals… Once Bundelkhand has been defended successfully, Bajirao and Mastani waste no time falling dramatically, violently in love (he cauterizes the wound she sustained in battle with his sword, which is a very Bhansali way of telling us they’re made for each other). When he departs soon after on a military campaign, he leaves behind his dagger. In 18th century Bundelkhand, such an action is tantamount to marriage. It’s all the encouragement Mastani needs to leave home and land up at the peshwa’s palace… This is a problem, because we already know that the peshwa has a wife, Kashibai (Priyanka Chopra). To add insult to injury, Mastani, the illegitimate daughter of the ruler of Bundelkhand and a Persian woman, is Muslim. The film soon becomes a royal triangle, with Bajirao unwilling to listen to his advisers – and his formidable mother, Radhabai (Tanvi Azmi) – who are telling him to keep his new love under wraps as his mistress, and Kashibai and Mastani out-sacrificing each other for his well-being”.

Although Bhansali’s movie belongs to the category of historical romance, it is nonetheless an essentially “political” project, at least in the sense that it explores the historical struggles of the 18th century to establish a unified Hindu nation. Srijana Mitra Das [op. cit.] puts this as follows: “… Bajirao Mastani is Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s most gorgeous – and most political – movie. Peshwa Bajirao… stretches the Maratha empire across 18th century India, fighting Mughals and rivals…” [my emph.]. In the same vein, Surabhi Redkar’s review of the movie in Koimoi notes that “Bajirao Ballal Peshwa [also called as such]… is an ambitious Maratha warrior who has set his eyes on creating one Hindu nation, the Bharatvarsha [viz. the area of the continent lying south of the Himalayas]” [cf. https://www.koimoi.com, 18.12.2015, my emph.].

The diegetic worldview of “Bajirao Mastani” consciously promotes the idea of “Maratha pride”. Srijana Mitra Das [op. cit.] writes: “It [the movie] rediscovers roots to Maratha pride”. And Shubhra Gupta [op. cit.] further observes the following as regards the movie’s diegetic approach: “The Maratha court is in session. As all eyes turn to Peshwa Bajirao…, we are invited not just to see, but to behold a warrior in the full glory of manhood, striding off to conquer new places and hearts”. We note here the movie’s promotion of the “full glory” of both the “Maratha court” and of Maratha “manhood”. The latter, it seems, presupposes specific male-female relations: in presenting the storyline above, we saw how Kashibai and Mastani would “out-sacrifice” each other for one man’s well-being.

While the ideological discourse of the movie focuses on Bajirao Mastani’s struggles to establish a unified Hindu nation, it nonetheless also embraces the allegedly delicate issue concerning Hindu-Muslim relations in India. As noted, the romance takes place between the “Peshwa” of the Maratha Empire and a princess who happens to be Muslim [or half-Muslim]. In her review, Srijana Mitra Das [op. cit.] informs us that the narrative of the movie is such so as to raise the question of the role of religious beliefs [Hinduism versus Islam] in building a nation – viz. should different beliefs be allowed to divide a people? This is how the reviewer puts it: “His [Bhansali’s] question – what should religion do? Tear us to bits? Or bring us closer? – frames an end that is frightening, beautiful and powerful… It [the movie]… bravely confronts one of India’s most crucial questions now”.

It is also of much interest to note that, while “Bajirao Mastani” is certainly infused with an ideology of authentic “Indianness”, it can also “borrow” from motifs that have emanated from Western civilization. With respect to this dimension of the movie, Uday Bhatia [op. cit.] writes: “Bhansali obviously hasn’t had his fill of star-crossed lovers: Having the leader of a state looking to establish Hindu rule across India fall in love with a Muslim warrior was probably the only way he could have upped the ante on the Romeo and Juliet hijinks of Ram-Leela [a 2013 film]”. On the other hand, Bhatia’s review is critical of the fact that the dialogues taking place in the movie – and especially the “charged banter” between Radhabai and Mastani – are in overly heavy local accent [and there are Marathi inflections in Bajirao’s own lingo]. It is such heavy accent, however, that gives this particular interpretation of the Romeo-Juliet story its own “Indian” flavour.

We shall end these brief notes on “Bajirao Mastani” by simply mentioning – and out of mere interest – how the director uses particular scenes of his movie to remind audiences of the historical contribution made by the Marathi people in the development of Indian cinema. Such a reminder, one may assume, would further boost “Maratha pride” in its own way. Bhatia notes: “Early in the film, we’re shown how the image of Bajirao standing in a glass palace is transmitted via a complex system of mirrors on to a screen in Kashibai’s room. In other words, she can see a film of her husband, an idea perfectly attuned to the historical reality of Maharashtrians being the originators of cinema in India. In a later scene, Kashibai hears her husband in the palace and rushes to look at his image, only to see him embracing Mastani…” Bollywood’s Marathi cinema, we may finally add, is the oldest and pioneer film industry of Indian cinema. It is said that this cinema’s first film had been released in 1912 in old Mumbai [cf. Wikipedia].

In 2016, the Cineworld Cinema would be screening a movie entitled “Sultan” [translated as “King” in English]. This is a Hindi-language film directed by Ali Abbas Zafar [also the director of “Bharat” – cf. above, in discussing movies screened by the Boleyn Cinema]. “Sultan” has been presented as a sports drama about a “desi wrestler” [to be explained below]. It is also said to be a “purely commercial” melodramatic love story – on the other hand, we should always keep in mind Zafar’s own understanding of his work, which he sees as intrinsically “political” [cf. above]. The star of the movie is Salman Khan, who happens to be extremely popular amongst Bollywood viewers.

We may here quote a sample comment on “Sultan” made by a Cineworld patron [the review was also partly quoted in Paper 4d] – Arjun Sandhu wrote as follows sometime after watching this movie: “Watched Sultan a few months ago. Brilliant cinema minutes from Ilford’s shopping area”. It goes without saying that the vast majority of Bollywood viewers would agree with such sentiments, and especially so as regards the “followers” of Salman Khan [all reviews and comments seem to fully verify this].

We may very roughly present the movie’s storyline as follows: “Salman Khan stars as Sultan Ali Khan, the only child of a farmer but who also works installing satellite TV dishes”. And further: “Amushka Sharma… co-stars as Aarfa Hussain, the daughter of a wrestling coach. She’s actually a wrestler herself who wants to become a world champion or even an Olympian [sic] to make her father proud and to prove women can be more than what they’re limited to. Sultan sees her and falls in love at first sight… Sultan decides to become a wrestler simply because she’s a wrestler…” [cf. Marlon Wallace, writing in WBOC, https://www.delmarvalife.com, 21.07.2016].

This is a Bollywood movie which – precisely through its apparently “purely commercial” façade – imbues its multifaceted narrative with the ideology of Indian patriotism. As has been noted, this is typical of many Bollywood productions, and highly representative of the work produced by Zafar himself. Ananya Bhattacharya, writing in India Today, observes: “Ali Abbas Zafar’s Sultan is a thorough crowd-pleaser. The film is a cocktail of sportsmanship, drama, romance, patriotism…” [cf. https://www.indiatoday.com, 08.07.2016]. According to a review by Shubhra Gupta, there are even scenes in the movie that pit patriotic Indians against bland English-speakers – we read: “Salman has perfected these rough-hewn, heart-of-gold, man-child parts… which coast on his ability to boost ‘desi’ [local], flag-waving patriots who can beat smooth English-speaking rivals to a pulp” [cf. https://www.indianexpress.com, 21.07.2016, my emph.].

The theme of patriotic pride is perhaps most evident in the lyrics of “Sultan’s” title track – the lyrics go as follows:

“The soil (of the ‘akhara’ and the motherland) is in your blood

Your blood is in the soil

The Lord above

The earth below

And between them your spirit

O Sultan”.

By the way, the term “akhara” [or “akhada”] means “arena” or “gymnasium”. Commenting on the lyrics, Anna MM Vetticad writes as follows: “These lyrics from ‘Sultan’s’ title track exemplify what makes this film tick: the director’s ability and unabashed willingness to tug at the heart strings – tap into every available emotion in the viewer, our patriotic pride, our soft spot for the underdog – yet not overplay its hand” [cf. https://www.firstpost.com, 06.07.2016].

The element of patriotism is combined with that of traditionality: Sultan Ali Khan is said to be a “desi wrestler”, the type of which goes back to the age-old traditions of the Indian subcontinent. Bhattacharya [op. cit.], for instance, writes as follows: “Salman Khan’s hard work is more than visible in every frame when the man is in the wrestling pit… this ‘desi pehelwan’ uses technique[s] to flatten anyone who crosses him in the ring”. The term “desi pehelwan” [or “pehlwani”, amongst other variants] means “heroic fighter” and is related to a traditional form of wrestling closely entangled with the history of India. It had been developed in the course of the 16th century Mughal rule of India by combining Persian “koshti pahlevani” wrestling with influences from native Indian “malla-yuddha” wrestling. The terms “koshti” and “pahlevani” derive from the Persian language: the former simply means “wrestling” and the latter denotes “heroism”, thus yielding the term “heroic wrestling” or “heroic fighter”. We should also note that the native Indian contribution to the wrestling tradition – viz. “malla-yuddha” or “combat wrestling” – dates as far back as 5 BC [cf., inter alia, Wikipedia]. This is the rich cultural preserve on which the movie “Sultan” is founded. Albeit “purely commercial”, therefore, the film is in fact steeped in Indian traditionality.

The traditionality highlighted in the movie is further evident in the type of accented language spoken by the actors. Bhattacharya [op. cit.] tells us that “The Haryanvi-accented dialogues from both Salman and Amushka are done well”. Haryanvi is a Central Indo-Aryan dialect spoken in Haryana, India. It is also spoken in metropolitan cities like Delhi and Kolkata, although here to a lesser extent. It is considered to be a Western Hindi dialect [cf. Wikipedia].

The elements of patriotism and traditionality are further intertwined with an attribute of the Bollywood genre which we have already referred to in presenting “Pattas” above – viz. an articulation of the urban-rural cultural paradigms. Anisha Jhaverie, writing in IndieWire, makes the following general observation: “Zafar treats us to some striking rural and urban panoramas…, as Sultan gears up along mustard fields of Haryana in the first half, and in front of Delhi’s iconic India Gate in the second” [cf. https://www.indiewire.com, 07.07.2016]. The rustic element is also apparent in Aarfa Hussain’s family background – the narrative presents her as the “daughter of a famous wrestling coach who teaches the sport in an authentic and rustic Indian akhada” [cf. a review of the movie by the Bollywood Hungama News Network, https://www.bollywoodhungama.com, 06.07.2021, my emph.].

Despite such emphasis on the quintessential elements of “Indianness” – and as in the case of the “Bajirao Mastani” movie presented above – “Sultan” nonetheless does “borrow” from the Western Hollywoodian genre. While, as we have seen, “Bajirao Mastani” presents an Indian version of the Romeo-Juliet theme, “Sultan” is at times reminiscent of the now-classic 1976 “Rocky” movie. Marlon Wallace [op. cit.] informs us of such “borrowing” as follows: “… this movie is basically the Indian version of ‘Rocky’ (1976). Instead of boxing, the sport here is wrestling and later mixed martial arts, or MMA”. Wallace further goes on to observe that “He [Sultan Ali Khan] looks like the Indian version of Hercules”.

It is of great interest to observe the particular manner in which audiences in Indian cinema theatres usually react to movies starring their beloved actor, Salman Khan – descriptions of such behaviour are very much reminiscent of what generally happens in the theatres of the Boleyn and Cineworld cinemas, and in their response to whichever Bollywood movie [as described by patrons of these two venues – cf. Paper 4d]. Thus, the few descriptions of behaviour we present below – all of which are based on reviews of “Sultan” – should be read side by side with our relevant quotes regarding audience behaviour within the cinema venues in the East Ham region. Samples of behaviour in cinema theatres located in India are as follows:

• “Wolf-whistles and claps greet every minute of Salman’s time in the pit. In the ‘akhada’, Sultan is the man to watch out for” [cf. Ananya Bhattacharya, op. cit.].

• “At the end of the day…, Sultan is a Salman Khan film. Probably every flaw is worthy of being overseen thanks to the sheer aura of the man. The Salman who makes people stand up and scream and shout his name right in the middle of an MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) sequence” [ibid.].

• It is not, however, merely the “aura” of the particular actor that causes the rowdy reactions of audiences – even the Haryanvi-accented dialogues used in “Sultan” are said to “elicit whistles and applause at the right moments” [ibid.].

• “We first meet Sultan in the ring, an enclosed dirt pit onto which he purposefully strides (amidst raucous cheers in the theatre – standard protocol for Khan’s intro scene in any of his films)…” [cf. Anisha Jhaverie, op. cit.].

To end these brief notes on “Sultan”, we need make a number of observations regarding its distribution, especially outside India and in the interests of the diaspora. In the first section of this paper, we had seen how – based on Krämer’s empirical findings – Bollywood movies have been distributed through the exclusive use of Indian sources. Krämer had found that “The Indian distributors have been happy to restrict their marketing efforts to the Asian communities” – practically speaking, this would mean that distribution of Asian films would merely be entrusted to informal channels such as “the force of word of mouth” [cf. above]. Thus, the distribution of Bollywood movies in Asian communities around the globe would simply not need to make use of standard, Western-based marketing channels. In discussing “Sultan”, Marlon Wallace’s review [op. cit.] fully verifies Krämer – this is what he writes: “This Bollywood movie is now the fifth, highest-grossing, Indian film in the world… It’s especially rare that a film will do as well when it has no marketing, at least no traditional marketing. There were no TV spots… There were no trailers in multiplexes and no posters anywhere… There’s probably an underground, Indian or Bollywood fan-base that doesn’t need traditional marketing to support these films, but there might be something more to this movie and to its success” [my emph.]. Of course, Wallace’s reference to the operation of an “underground” is very much reminiscent of Gary Younge’s observation that the Bollywood genre in the UK functions in the context of a self-segregated “parallel universe” [cf. above].

In 2017, the Cineworld Cinema would be screening “The Black Prince”, a historical drama movie directed by Kavi Raz. The movie was released in three versions: Punjabi, Hindi and English.

Although this motion picture would generally receive negative reviews, Asian audiences in the UK – and especially patrons of Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema – would speak favourably of it [many would at the same time complain about Cineworld’s ticket prices at the time – patron Tarlock Singh, for instance, found it a “joke” that he would have to pay more than £11.00 to watch the movie – cf. Paper 4d].

The movie is about the life story of Maharaja Duleep Singh. Mini Anthikad Chibber, writing in The Hindu, provides us with some basic background facts regarding the story of the Maharaja [played by Satinder Sartaaj], who would also come to be known by the nickname “The Black Prince”. Chibber writes as follows: “It is a fascinating story. In 1843, a boy of five, son of the Lion of Punjab, is placed on the throne. At the age of 10, he is deposed, and at 15 exiled to England. A darling of the court, he lives a lavish life, converts to Christianity and is the fourth best shot in England [he would hold grand shooting parties in Scotland]. He also has second thoughts of his identity, his conversion and his inheritance. He dies in Paris at the age of 55 seeing India only twice after his exile. The tragedy of Dileep [sic] Singh, the last king of Punjab, makes for an intriguing tale” [cf. https://www.thehindu.com, 11.11.2017]. Arnab Banerjee, who writes his review of the movie in the Deccan Chronicle, further informs us that Duleep Singh was “The youngest son of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, ruler of northwestern India… and the only child of Maharani Jindan Kaur (Shabana Azmi)…” [cf. https://www.deccanchronicle.com, 22.07.2017]. Regarding Duleep Singh’s deposition from the throne, Jay Weissberg – writing in Variety – explains: “… British troops were in his capital and he was soon deposed, all part of Britain’s plan for complete control of the sub-continent” [cf. https://www.variety.com, 21.07.2017]. It was thus that Duleep Singh would come to be the very last Maharaja of the Sikh Empire and the Punjab region.

The movie’s story, more or less based on the real biographical facts of Duleep Singh, is narrated with a definite purpose. While we shall attempt to further elucidate such purpose below, we may here present an interpretation of the director’s intentions by considering what Renuka Vyavahare has to say in the Times of India – we read as follows: “Set in the 19th century (India’s pre-independence years), The Black Prince is the agonizing true tale of Duleep Singh… who was robbed off his mother, Kingdom, faith and lineage by the British… Duleep’s yearning to embrace his faith, reclaim his identity and trace his roots, forms the story… Raised as British, he soon realizes that he is actually a prisoner, trapped by the lies and deceit of his enemy… Kavi Raz’s film solely rests on Duleep’s longing and liberation” [cf. https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 21.07.2017].

As is apparent from the notes above, a core theme of “The Black Prince” is the clash of two different cultures, as embodied in the personal story of the exiled Sikh king – naturally, a theme that revolves around two conflicting cultures or diverging identities [British versus Asian] would find empathetic ears amongst the Asian diaspora, who have a first-hand experience of just such clash. The movie’s theme of culture clash is presented as follows by Banerjee [op. cit.]: “The Black Prince is a story of Queen Victoria and the Last King of Punjab, Maharaja Duleep Singh, who was torn between two cultures and faced constant dilemmas as a result. Despite his close relationship with Queen Victoria that made him draw into the English culture, Singh… began a lifelong struggle to regain his kingdom…” [my emph.].

The culture clash, as also an increasing awareness of the “colonialist oppression” of his homeland, would mean that Duleep Sing would ultimately wish to “overturn” the colonialist status quo. Banerjee describes this process of patriotic awakening as follows: “He gets to learn about God, Christianity and other social etiquettes by his [British] guardian, Dr Login (Jason Flemyng), and is told that India benefited by the British rule. He is respectful to all but an uncanny sense of unease begins to discomfort him as he longs to see his real mother, who he is categorically told is ‘old and too weak to travel’. Perhaps the latent desire to be with his countrymen also begins to rekindle in him an inexplicable concern for the land of his birth: Punjab. When he gets permission to bring her to England, he gets more and more influenced by her to reclaim his birthright and overturn the escalating oppression of India by British colonialists”.

The movie goes on to depict Duleep Singh as an anti-colonialist “revolutionary”, albeit a failed one. Weissberg [op. cit.] writes: “… Duleep’s sense of exile has grown so great that he decides to cast aside Christianity and embrace his Sikh heritage. Suddenly he’s in Aden and then Paris, scheming in a dark cellar with Irish thugs, Russian revolutionaries and a duplicitous American… Dreams of convincing the Tsar to help fund his return to the Punjab throne come to naught, and, in the end, the disappointed, sad Maharajah has a last meeting with Queen Victoria in Grasse, where she apologizes for having ruined his life”.

Not all of the movie’s narrative is actually accurate from a historical point of view – what is true to fact is Duleep Singh’s ineffectual struggle to challenge the colonialist status quo. And yet, it is said that “His struggle inspired Sikhs to continue to fight for freedom until India regained its independence from British Imperialism in 1947” [cf. a review of the movie by Elizabeth Charters in Film Berg, https://www.filmberg.com, 15.07.2017]. All along, and as the anti-colonialist struggle for independence unfolds, the British colonialists are consistently portrayed as “vultures” [cf. Banerjee, op. cit.].

The various historical inaccuracies in the film’s narrative seem to be intentional, given the ideological objectives of the director – above all, Kavi Raz wishes to convey a “liberatory” message to his Asian audiences. He also wishes to uphold the concept of Indian “national pride” throughout the movie. The narrative may thus be said to be a mixture of historical reality and ideological myth. It is, for instance, a case of mere myth that Queen Victoria would offer her apologies to the Maharaja “for having ruined his life”. On this, Weissberg [op. cit.] comments as follows: “That part is pure fantasy, by the way. Victoria always maintained an enormous degree of warmth and understanding for Duleep (just read her journals and letters), but apologizing for the British annexation of India wasn’t a line she would ever have used… At the end of his life [viz. the real life of Duleep Singh], fat and partly paralyzed (not how he’s depicted here), it was Duleep who begged Victoria for forgiveness which, in all the self-assurance of queenship, she generously gave”.

It should be underlined, however, that such “pure fantasy” in the narrative of “The Black Prince” cannot be seen as a mere “flaw” in the quality of the movie – in fact, it must be understood as a positively functional component of the overall “myth” that the director wishes to weave into his narrative, and that given his clear ideological objectives. Reviewers have identified such objectives in a number of ways – we note the following:

• “… this biopic [viz. a film dramatizing the life of a person, particularly a historical figure]… aims for Indian patriotism” [cf. Weissberg, op. cit., my emph.].

• “Sikh nationalists and those looking for a standard-issue confirmation of Britain’s tragically misguided Victorian-era Indian policies are a built-in audience…” [ibid., my emph.].

• The movie wishes to function, in the last instance, as a “history lesson”: “The bulk of the film concerns the patriotically awakened Singh’s attempted return to Punjab and the British conspiracy working to prevent his homecoming to a kingdom they ‘stole’. As a lushly shot history lesson, ‘The Black Prince’ succeeds. As entertainment, the film is pedantic and over-dramatic… ‘I will not vanish without a fight’, Sigh vows” [cf. Brad Wheeler’s review in The Globe and Mail, https://www.theglobeandmail.com, 21.07.2017].

• Echoing Brad Wheeler, yet another reviewer writes that the purpose of the movie seems to be, above all, “educational”: “The Black Prince is more educational than engaging”. And thus “The Black Prince” is said to belong to a new current in the Bollywood genre that is primarily concerned with raising a certain national “awareness”: “A new trend in moviemaking is film productions more concerned with creating awareness than succeeding commercially [cf. a review of the movie written by Jorge Ignacio Castillo in Darpan, https://www.darpanmagazine.com, 19.07.2017, my emph.]. We should point out that this assumed dichotomy between “creating awareness” and being “commercially” successful may be taken with a pinch of salt – it may in any case be contrasted with the case of “Sultan” [cf. above], which was said to be both “purely commercial” and could at the same time pursue a “political” or Indian “traditionalist” ideological discourse.

• The ideological discourse of the movie focuses on the values of “Indianness” and Indian identity: “Themes in the film include pride, courage, identity, strength and faith” [cf. Charters, op. cit.].

• “Singh’s story is a tragic reminder of the still pervasive effects of British colonialism, and his late-life attempt to reclaim his Sikh heritage and empire may speak to those struggling to stay connected with their roots” [cf. a review of the movie written by Radheyan Simonpillai in Now, https://www.nowtoronto.com, 19.07.2017].

It is in the context of such clear ideological intentions – all of which target “a built-in audience” or “those struggling to stay connected with their roots” – which predetermines the inclusion of other related themes in the narrative of “The Black Prince”. Such themes include an emphasis on the Indian “family bond”, a theme which we have also encountered in other Bollywood movies [for instance: “Bharat”, “Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo”, “Pattas” – cf. above]. Charters [op. cit.] briefly points to such theme in “The Black Prince” as follows [although her language in this case is slightly problematic]: “The family represents that the bond between family is forever strong. The mother says in her fight to be reunited with her son, ‘I have not only lost a Kingdom, but a son, too’…”

Charters further informs us that the movie raises issues around the question of “race” – she simply notes, without clarifying, that “there are questions surrounding race within the film”. Perhaps an observation made by Wheeler’s review [op. cit.] gives us some idea of the type of “race” issues that the movie raises – he writes: “When asked if the Queen is attractive, the diplomatic Singh replies, ‘She’s white’…” Since we cannot really draw whatever conclusions based on such a response, we shall have to leave it at that.

We shall end these brief notes on “The Black Prince” by noting, firstly, that Satinder Sartaaj happens to be an extremely popular traditional Indian singer – more specifically, he is said to specialize in “Sufi” singing [with respect to “Sufi” devotional songs, cf. Paper 4c]. Sartaaj is a well-known Punjabi songwriter and poet [his work has also appeared in Punjabi-language films]. He does not, however, sing in “The Black Prince”. Regarding the music of the film itself, Charters adds: “A mix of traditional Indian music and also sorrowful contemporary music are displayed during the film…”

Secondly, it is extremely important to note that the movie is an Indo-British production – this makes of it the type of Bollywood movie that is a product of what we have identified in the first section of this paper as “creative collaboration” between the Bollywood industry and the UK’s diasporic communities. It has been argued above that such “creative collaboration” would mean the active participation of members of the Asian diaspora in the actual creation of a movie, thereby allowing for a certain determination of its content.

By 2018, Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema would be screening “Carry on Jatta 2”, which was a sequel to the 2012 “Carry on Jatta”. Both are Indian Punjabi comedies directed by Smeep Kang. “Carry on Jatta 2” is said to be the highest grossing Punjabi film of all time. The star of the film is Gippy Grewal, who was born in Ludhiana, Punjab.

Very many Asian residents of both Ilford and East Ham would visit the Cineworld Cinema so as to watch the movie [cf. Google Reviews, Paper 4d; and especially the sample comment made by Cineworld patron Rajinder Jeer].

Jaspreet Nijher’s review of the movie calls “Carry on Jatta 2” a “complete family package” [cf. https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 01.06.2018] – all other available reviews of this motion picture present it likewise. As is the case of all Bollywood movies, it targeted audiences both in India and those living in the diaspora [as we shall see below, the theme of the movie would be of special relevance to Asians living in communities outside India]. One of the producers of the movie, Gunbir Singh Sidhu, expressed this targeting of the diaspora as follows: “We want to entertain the Punjabi film loving audiences anywhere and everywhere in the world” [cf. 5 Dariya News, https://www.5dariyanews.com, 07.06.2018]. Sidhu himself has a direct experience of the Asian diaspora, and especially as regards that of the UK – he is said to have studied at the Imperial College London.

The Asian diasporic audiences would have found this movie to be of special interest to them as it focuses on the issue of emigration. It concerns the dream that many natives of India are said to harbour – viz. that of settling in the Western world, a dream that has of course been materialized in the case of the Asian settler populations of localities such as East Ham and its environs. It is understandable that those who have had the experience of emigration would empathize with events unfolding in “Carry on Jatta 2”. In some sense, this movie could be said to somehow belong to what Krämer has identified as the “diaspora type” of film [cf. the first section of this paper]. On the other hand, it does not exactly belong to that type, in that it does not focus on the life experiences of the expatriate Indian as such – rather, it explores the complications that may arise in the life of a potential or aspirant expatriate.

Jaspreet Nijher [op. cit.] informs us that the narrative of the movie concerns “An orphan smitten with dreams of going to Canada” [my emph.]. The orphan, of course, is played by Gippy Grewal who, as we have said, is the star of the movie. Similarly, Gurlove Singh, writing in Book My Show, notes: “The story follows Jass…, a happy-go-lucky orphaned guy, whose sole purpose in life is to go to Canada by hook or by crook” [cf. https://www.in.bookmyshow.com, 01.06.2018, my emph.]. Such an aspiration, it seems, is a generalized phenomenon amongst Punjabi youth, and especially amongst males – Sukhpreet Kahlon’s Cinestaan review makes the following statement: “Jass… has the rather inevitable dream of every Punjabi boy – longs for a Canadian visa”. We note that such an aspiration for immigration to the West, at least as presented in this movie, is confined to legal procedures in trying to fulfill it [obtaining a visa] – and yet, the personal methods used by Jass to meet such legalities are themselves all unorthodox [“by hook or by crook”], and which explains the hilarity of the movie [cf. https://www.cinestaan.com, 01.06.2018, my emph.]. We may here further quote Dixit Bhargav’s review in Punjabi Mania, which also seems to confirm the idea that the aspiration to settle in places such as Canada is rampant amongst young Punjabis – we read: “As is the dream of a plethora of youngsters in Punjab, Jass also aims at settling in Canada” [cf. https://www.punjabimania.com, 01.06.2018, my emph.].

For Jass, immigrating to Canada seems to be an unreachable dream – having vainly attempted various methods seemingly at his disposal, he comes to realize that the only way to get him to his destination is to make use of an NRI [Non Resident Indian] girl. Gurlove Singh [op. cit.] writes: “After numerous attempts of going to Canada and many taunts faced from his landlord, advocate Dhillon [Jass is his tenant]…, and his best friend Goldy, Jass decides that marrying a Canadian girl is the only way he can fulfill his dream”. Jass, we learn, is not eligible for immigration to Canada as he fails to meet certain educational requirements.

Singh explains to us that “Jass appoints his [second] friend Honey to the task [of finding the NRI girl], who then introduces him to Meet [this is the name of the girl, played by Sonam Bajwa]”. Jass and Meet are said to make their acquaintance at a wedding reception.

The problem is that Meet, and despite the fact that she is an NRI girl, harbours a wish that is typical of many Asian women – she believes in large family units. As Nijher [op. cit.] notes: “But Meet has one wish, of marrying a guy with a big family”. Jass, of course, does not have any family whatsoever, being an orphan. The comedy of the motion picture revolves around this anomaly and the various attempts made by Jass to trick the girl into believing that he does in fact belong to a large Indian family unit. Nijher explains: “Jass connives with his scheming friend Honey…, to con Meet into thinking he has a big family…”

The overall storyline is therefore rather simple and may be summarized as follows: “With the protagonist, Jass finding desperate measures to pursue his ambition of going abroad, marrying an NRI seems the easiest. And when he finds a willing lady in Meet, he only has to clear one obstacle, that of finding a family to call his own…” [Nijher, op. cit.].

Some reviewers have made the observation that the narrative of “Carry on Jatta 2” is characterized by a typical Punjabi male “bias”. Although elements of such “bias” are apparent in the narrative, attempts are made to somehow mitigate it. Commenting on the role that Sonam Bajwa plays in the movie, Nijher notes: “Despite not contributing significantly to the progress of the script in the way her [Meet’s] character is etched – an inherent male bias of Punjabi industry, her portrayal of the NRI girl marks the beginning of true depiction of modern Punjabi girls, in her glamorous costumes and refreshing looks” [my emph.]. At the same time, however, the movie is not exactly “politically correct” – it is targeting an Asian audience that remains quite indifferent to so-called “racist” or “sexist” proclivities. Writing in the Hindustan Times, reviewer Jyoti Sharma Bawa makes an important observation concerning the movie and the audiences it is meant to attract, which can itself tell us much about the mindset of at least a section of the Asian population – he writes as follows: “Indian audiences can be broadly divided into two groups – those who love Kapil Sharma’s shows [an Indian stand-up comedian] and others who found [sic] them racist and sexist. Before going further and without any analysis, Carry on Jatta 2 is for the former group” [cf. https://www.hindustantimes.com, 01.06.2018]. Bawa, unfortunately, does not elucidate either on the social physiognomy of these two respective groups or on their relative numerical size. “Carry on Jatta 2”, in any case, seems to fully express those categories of Asian audiences that care little about “racist” or “sexist” insinuations. Gurlove Singh [op. cit.] tells us that “Director Smeep Kang knows the taste of Punjabi audiences very well” [my emph.]. And thus, and as reviewer Gurjit Kaur writes in the Chandigarh Metro, the movie “has made people go crazy in the theatres”, something which is of course very much reminiscent of Asian audience behaviour both in the theatres of India and of those frequenting the Cineworld or Boleyn venues [cf. https://www.chandigarhmetro.com, text undated].

“Carry on Jatta 2” [together with its prequel, “Carry on Jatta”] is an important movie in the historical development of the Punjabi film industry. Kahlon [op. cit.] writes: “2012 was a landmark year for Punjabi films. The release of… Carry on Jatta…, marked a revival of Punjabi films that continued to grow and offered a formidable alternative to Hindi cinema”. Such continual growth was evident by 2018 with the release of its sequel: “… it has taken six years for the release of part 2 of Carry on Jatta”. The release, it is said, made history in the world of Pollywood – this is how BOI [the Box Office India Trade Network] has put it: “Carry on Jatta 2 has created history by becoming the highest opener of all time in terms of collections for the Punjabi film industry” [cf. https://www.boxofficeindia.com, 01.06.2018].

The revival of the Punjabi film industry through the release of movies such as “Carry on Jatta 2” would mean that, together with the predominance of Punjabi religious movies, we would now also have a similar predominance of “traditional mass comedy”. Both such sub-types of the Bollywood genre, it seems, are especially popular with Punjabi Asians [whether in India or amongst the diasporic settlers]. Regarding the re-emergence of Punjabi comedy movies, BOI [op. cit.] informs us that “Carry on Jatta 2” would mean a return “to traditional mass comedy which has always been historically the best bet for Punjabi cinema since it started outside religious films and the numbers have come”.

We shall end our notes on “Carry on Jatta 2” by noting the following as regards the songs accompanying this movie. Kahlon [op. cit.] tells us that “The foot-tapping numbers sung by him [Gippy Grewal] are sure to be the life of Punjabi parties… hereon” [my emph.]. This observation is of course of a certain sociological importance – it gives us some idea of how the Bollywood genre spills over and percolates into the everyday lives of Asians [we have already indicated that we shall be devoting a special section to the issue of Bollywoodian cultural by-products – and especially with respect to “Bollywood dancing” as practiced in a locality such as East Ham].

Gippy Grewal is said to be highly popular as a singer amongst Punjabis – Bhargav [op. cit.] informs us that he is “The Desi Rockstar of the Punjabi industry”. Songs accompanying the movie are said to have “desi feels with a folk flavour” [cf. https://www.dnaindia.com, 15.05.2018].

Also in 2018 – by November of that year – the Cineworld Cinema would be screening a movie entitled “Sarkar” [translated in English as “Government”]. This is a Tamil-language “political action” film [also dubbed in Telugu]. Its director is A.R. Murugadoss; it starred Vijay [known mononymously as such around the world, and especially so in India]. Very many Asian Easthammers and residents of Ilford would watch the movie at the time – cf., for instance, patron Rajendhiran Vallathan [Paper 4d], who would be watching the movie together “with our family in Screen 3 Cineworld”.

Sanjith Sidhardhan, writing in the Times of India, presents us with the following narrative synopsis of the movie: “NRI [Non Resident Indian] corporate honcho Sundar Ramasamy [played by Vijay] comes to India to vote, only to learn that his vote has already been cast. While he reclaims his right legally, it also sets in motion a chain of events that eventually lead to him entering the political fray, trying to change the system [specifically of Tamil Nadu, a South Indian state]” [cf. https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 06.11.2018].

Based on such a synopsis, one may say that the narrative of “Sarkar” revolves around two basic themes:

• The tight connection that continues to exist between an NRI and his/her homeland – Sundar Ramasamy returns to Tamil Nadu simply so as to cast his vote, thereby showing a deep concern for his homeland.

• The connection between an NRI and his/her homeland is not merely manifested through a passive sentimentality regarding one’s place of origin – the NRI Sundar Ramasamy actively intervenes in the affairs of his homeland so as to improve the plight of his own people.

While “Sarkar” may perhaps not be reducible to these two themes, these do seem to dominate throughout the movie’s narrative – our intention here is to briefly explore such an interpretation of the movie.

Sidhardhan’s review [op. cit.] explains how the film presents this tight connection between an NRI and his/her homeland. Ramasamy happens to be a “corporate monster” capable of annihilating companies operating in India, and thus “His visit to India has many firms worried about his agenda”. And yet, Ramasamy’s “agenda” is a simple manifestation of Tamil Nadu patriotism – all he really wants to do is “to cast his vote” in his homeland [it is election time] and then depart.

Ramasamy, however, does not depart – he decides to stay awhile so as to actively intervene in the political life of Tamil Nadu. Sidhardhan continues: “But an incident involving a family who sets themselves ablaze owing to their debt and a challenge by a politician forces him [Ramasamy] to stay back to change the system, and make people aware of the difference a single vote can make”. As a successful NRI, Ramasamy sees it as his duty to raise the political awareness of his compatriots, especially as regards the importance of voting and of the implications of electoral fraud. He thus decides to stand as a candidate in the elections as a non-partisan politician, and does so amidst attempts made on his life and reputation [cf. Wikipedia].

It is Ramasamy’s tight bond with his homeland that prompts him to intervene in its affairs – his purpose is to attempt to solve the various social problems that beset Tamil Nadu. Writing in the Hindustan Times, reviewer Priyanka Sundar tells us that “Vijay returns to solve all of Tamil Nadu’s problems…” [cf. https://www.hindustantimes.com, 06.11.2018]. The particular issues that trouble the state are all meant to be brought to the attention of the audience through long speeches delivered by Vijay [and which is reminiscent of the near-endless speech-making in Sarileru Neekevvaru – cf. above]. Kirubhakar Purushothaman’s review of the movie in India Today explains: “After a point, Sarkar looks like a stretch of Vijay’s speeches – on issues that range from Tamil Nadu fishermen to Jallikattu to freebies to what not – knitted one after the other in a weak narrative” [cf. https://www.indiatoday.in, 06.11.2018]. The term “Jallikattu”, by the way, refers to a traditional event taking place in Tamil Nadu in which a bull is released into a crowd of people with participants attempting to grab the large hump on the bull’s back and hang on to it.

One may therefore say that the “Sarkar” narrative, in its attempt to connect India with Asian settlers in the diaspora, informs the latter of the array of socio-political issues that compose the reality of compatriots living in Tamil Nadu. Sreedhar Pillai, writing in Firstpost, explains that the movie is meant to entertain, but “with a hoard of political events that took place in Tamil Nadu” [cf. https://www.firstpost.com, 06.11.2018].

And further, the movie promotes the idea that NRI’s have both the duty and the effective power to intervene in the affairs of their homeland – Sundar Ramasamy is presented as a case in point: “The fight for his one vote takes Sundar on a journey that changes the fate of the state” [cf. Purushothaman, op. cit., my emph.].

The movie is thus not merely a “political drama” – some reviewers have even presented it as a “political pamphlet”. Srinavasa Ramanujam’s review in The Hindu asserts that “Sarkar” is “more a political pamphlet than a movie” [cf. https://www.thehindu.com, 06.11.2018]. And he adds that “At 163 minutes, the movie… feels like a long lecture… The dialogues, though powerful, reel off much longer than they ought to be. What could have been said in two words: Go vote (admittedly a much-needed social message) gets the entire length of the film, replete with dance and fights”.

There are, however, other reviewers of the movie – such as Priyanka Sundar [op. cit.] – who insist that “Sarkar” is only a “pseudo political drama”. This approach seems to complement – and not necessarily counter – that of reviewers such as Ramanujam. More or less agreeing with Sundar, Purushothaman [op. cit.] writes: “Sarkar is a propaganda film in many ways but here the filmmaker is not selling an ideology but a hero; a brand called Vijay…” There is definitely much truth in this latter approach: Vijay – as an actor, dancer and playback singer – is extremely popular in the world of Bollywood, be it in India or amongst diasporic Asian settlers in countries such as the UK. S. Subhakeerthana, writing in The Indian Express, tells us simply that Vijay is a “mass hero” [cf. https://www.indianexpress.com, 06.11.2018].

One may therefore draw the general conclusion that “Sarkar” is both a “political pamphlet” [with a patriotic NRI interacting with his homeland] and what Sreedhar Pillai [op. cit.] dubs “a typical mass entertainer”.

There are two final points one may make regarding this movie. Firstly, and in keeping with its “political” dimension, the music in “Sarkar” includes a “call-for-revolution number Oru Viral”, composed and sung by A.R. Rahman [cf. Ramanujam, op. cit.]. The full title of this song – “Oru Viral Puratchi” – may be translated as “This is [a] one-vote revolution”. Finally, we may simply note that the movie was a “Diwali” release [cf. above].

In 2019, the Cineworld Cinema would be screening “Viswasam”, which may be translated as “Allegiance” [the word could also mean “loyalty” or “trustworthiness”]. This is a Kollywood production, and is therefore in the Tamil language. It was directed by Siruthai Siva [known professionally simply as Siva]. It starred the popular Tamil actor, Ajith Kumar. Many Asians residing in the region of East Ham and Ilford would watch this movie [cf., for instance, patron Piraveen Yasasvin, Paper 4d].

Thinkal Menon, writing in the Times of India, presents the movie’s storyline as follows: “Thookku Durai (Ajith) is the darling of his family and lives life by his own rules. His life changes when doctor Niranjana (Nayanthara) visits his village for a medical camp. Though both of them have contrasting characters, they get married as Niranjana strongly believed that they would make a good pair. However, Durai’s hastiness in taking decisions and unwillingness in staying away from settling disputes even after becoming a father harm their relationship. A disappointed Niranjana moves to Mumbai with their daughter to ensure a better life for her… Durai, who has been constantly asked by his family members to start a fresh life with his wife, goes to Mumbai to meet her and his daughter whom he hasn’t met for almost a decade… Upon reaching Mumbai, he learns that his daughter’s life is in danger. Gautham Veer (Jagabathi Babu), a crooked business tycoon, wants her life as he believes she’s the reason for his daughter’s ill health. How Durai safeguards her [sic] daughter from Gautham forms the rest of the story” [cf. https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 10.01.2019].

Many reviewers have called this movie a “rural drama”. Menon [op. cit.] tells us that the narrative is “set against a village which has its protagonist [Durai] loved by the villagers for his valour and honesty”. Writing in India Today, Janani K. notes that “… Ajith and director Siruthai Siva go back to the rural route with Viswasam” [cf. https://www.indiatoday.in, 10.01.2019, my emph.].

Although it is said to be primarily a “rural drama”, “Viswasam” also wishes to present the urban-rural connection, combining these two “lifeworlds” in a manner which highlights the articulation between Indian traditionality and modernity [something which, as we have already noted, applies to many movies of the Bollywood genre – cf., for instance, the cases of “Pattas” and “Sultan” above]. Thus, a review compiled by the Behindwoods Review Board informs us that “The story takes place in two different places, Koduvilarpatti [a village located in the Theni district of the Tamil Nadu state] and Mumbai”. And yet, the Board continues, the film is in fact a “rural action drama”. And further: “His [Ajith’s] Madurai dialect adds to the nativity and the authenticity” [cf. https://www.behindwoods.com, 10.01.2019 – we suspect that the word “nativity” is most probably used to suggest “native” or “traditional”]. We may also simply note here that Haricharan Pudipeddi’s review in Firstpost confirms that “Viswasam” is a “rural drama” [cf. https://www.firstpost.com, 10.01.2019].

Apart from focusing on the rural dimension of life in India, the movie is at the same time – and which is itself typical of the Bollywood genre – a “family drama”. Pudipeddi [op. cit.] explains: “As much as ‘Viswasam’ is a rural drama with an ample dose of heroism, it is also a well-intended family drama revolving around a father and his daughter”. The Behindwoods Review Board also dwells on this aspect of the movie – it writes as follows: “Yes, Viswasam is all about a family man, Thooku Durai, who intends and promises to save his daughter and wife at all costs from the negative forces. Did he win over the antagonist forms the rest of the story”. The Board’s appraisal is that “The family emotions work neatly [in the movie] and it is not overdone”.

Janani K., who has told us that the narrative of “Viswasam” returns audiences to “the rural route” [op. cit.], would also agree that the movie is “an emotional family entertainer”. And adds: “Going by the genre, this is yet another commercial flick that has every possible element of emotion ranging from father-daughter sentiment to brilliant action sequences”. The importance of the father-daughter relationship in the movie is also noted by Menon [op. cit.], who writes: “His [Ajith’s] part as a doting father… will be lapped up by those who love family dramas”.

The film’s emphasis on the rural dimension, as also on the tight bonds of the Indian family unit, is further complemented by presenting the socio-cultural significance of traditional “festivals” in the everyday life of Indians. Janani K. [op. cit.] notes: “Viswasam opens with Thooku Dorai (Ajith), who is regarded as the don and saviour… of the Koduvilarpatti village. He is arguing with his enemies to seek permission to hold a ‘thiruvizha’ (carnival)…” Reviewer Ashameera Aiyappan, writing in the Cinema Express, explains further: “After a grand introduction scene, where Thooku Durai (Ajith) waltzes on to the screen with a simple ‘vanakkam’ [viz. bowing or giving one’s respects; greeting with praying hands], he launches into a lengthy dialogue about how temple festivals are integral to the community. ‘Temple festivals become a place for communion. A reason for the migrants to return home to family’, he says” [cf. https://www.cinemaexpress.com, 10.01.2019, my emph.].

There are a number of final observations that one may make regarding “Viswasam”. One is that, belonging as it does to the Kollywood genre, it somehow reflects Kollywoodian stereotypes regarding Asian women. Janani K.’s review [op. cit.] tells us the following on this issue: “Nayanthara as doctor Niranjana looks ethereal and has a solid role in the film. She is a strong-willed woman who keeps herself happy by searching for greatness in everything she does. After one point, she is reduced to the stereotypical housewife, who chooses to become a mother by sacrificing a monumental career opportunity”. Aiyappan [op. cit.] is a bit more sparing regarding the intentions of the movie – we read: “However, considering how low the standards are in Tamil cinema right now, the fact that she [Niranjana] is shown to have a career (even if done half-heartedly) is itself a leap forward”.

The second observation concerns the star of “Viswasam”, Ajith Kumar. We have already noted that Ajith is a popular actor, at least as regards Tamil audiences. To gauge the degree of such personal popularity – but which also points to the popularity of “Viswasam” itself – we may consider an event that occurred in India following the movie’s release. The Times of India would be reporting an incident that could perhaps sound extraordinary to the average Western mindset – the article reads as follows: “A giant cut out of Thala Ajith [“Thala”, which means “Leader”, is the actor’s nickname; the cut-out shows Ajith as he appears in “Viswasam”] collapsed after fans did a milk abhiskeham in Villupuram. The 20-ft cut out could not bear the weight of fans and eventually fell down injuring the fans as well. The injured are now admitted in hospital. Though hoardings and cutouts are already banned across the state [of Tamil Nadu] by the Madras High court, it looks like fans of actors are in no mood to listen” [10.01.2019]. We should note here that “abhiskeham” [or “abhishekam”] is a Sanskrit word meaning “sprinkling” or “wetting”, and refers to the Hindu ritual of pouring water or other “sacred” substances on the statue of a deity while also chanting mantras [cf. Wikipedia; also: https://www.yogapedia.com]. Consider also the following event reported by the Times of India [ibid.]: “In the meantime, a 20-year old Ajith fan is said to have set his father ablaze after the latter refused to pay him for Viswasam’s movie ticket”. Reviewer Roktim Rajpal, writing in Film Beat, could be said to explain such type of events in India when he writes: “Needless to say, he [Ajith]… is Kollywood’s biggest mass hero” [cf. https://www.filmbeat.com, 10.01.2019].

Our final observation concerns the tunes one hears in the movie. The Behindwoods Review Board [op. cit.] notes that the “Kannaana Kanney song picturisation brings out the beautiful emotions between a father and a daughter”. The phrase “Kannaana Kanney” has been translated as “Oh You Apple Of My Eye”. Rajpal [op. cit.] also informs us that “D. Imman’s tunes are in synch with the festive season of Pongal. They… have a distinct desi flavor” [with reference to “Pongal” and “desi” cf. above].

Also in 2019, Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema would screen a movie entitled “Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi”. This is a Hindi-language period drama film based on the life of Rani Lakshmi Bai of the Maratha princely state of Jhansi [which is a historic city in the Indian state of Uttar Pradesh]. Reviewers have generally presented it as a “patriotic war drama”. It was co-directed by Radha Krishna Jagarlamudi and Kangana Ranaut. The latter would also star in the movie, playing the Jhansi queen, Lakshmi Bai. One could also watch the film in the Tamil and Telugu languages. Many residents of Ilford and the East Ham region would watch the movie – cf., for instance, the patron signing as Amy Amy [Paper 4d], who writes: “Watched Manikarnika. I always enjoy Kangana’s films, simply love her”.

Writing in Reuters, reviewer Shilpa Jamkhandikar provides us with a very general historical context within which the movie’s narrative is situated – we read: “Ranaut is front and center of Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi, a re-telling of one of India’s most famous historical figures. Manikarnika, or better known as Lakshmibai or the Rani of Jhansi, was a leader of the 1857 rebellion who became a symbol of resistance against the British Raj” [cf. https://www.reuters.com, 25.01.2019, my emph.].

Lakshana N. Palat, writing in India Today, describes the movie’s storyline as follows: “Manikarnika is married off to Maharaja Gangadhar Rao Newalkar (Jisshu Sengupta) of Jhansi. He is more than impressed by her fearless behaviour. The Rajmatra [which literally means the king’s mother, or more generally the mother of the head of a princely family in India] of the house isn’t, and strongly reprimands her. A woman’s place is in the palace and the kitchen, she tells Manikarnika, who pretty much rolls her eyes at her. This doesn’t stop Manikarnika (now renamed Rani Laxmibai after the marriage) from roaming around town freely. Clouds loom over her seemingly-blissful life after her first child dies, and shortly later, her husband. The British officers are eager to capture Jhansi, and don’t accept her adopted son as the heir to the throne. Laxmibai’s fight against the British forms the rest of the story of Manikarnika” [cf. https://www.indiatoday.in, 15.03.2019].

Lakshmi Bai’s war is waged against the East India Company – her struggle against it would transform her into a patriotic warrior. Ronak Kotecha’s review in the Times of India puts this as follows: “Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi is a biographical account of how Rani Laxmibai waged a war against the East India Company. It chronicles her journey from the place where she grew up, Bithoor, to becoming the Rani of Jhansi, and eventually turning into a warrior Queen” [cf. https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 02.02.2019].

As the Reuters review [op. cit.] indicates, Lakshmi Bai’s struggle is concentrated around the 1857 rebellion, described by some historians as the Sepoy Mutiny or the Meerut Sepoy Mutiny [others have even called it the First War of Independence]. Kotecha [op. cit.], however, suggests that the movie only makes use of this rebellion as a “reference point”, its primary focus being Rani Lakshmi Bai herself and the struggles that she led in Jhansi against British colonialism – we read: “Some incidents like the Meerut Sepoy mutiny of 1857 are used as reference points, but the focus remains on Jhansi’s rebellion against the British”. Palat’s review [op. cit.] adds: “160 years after Rani Laxmibai died on the battlefield during the 1857-58 mutiny against the British, directors Radha Krishna Jagarlamudi and Kangana Ranaut present us with a film on the brave queen, Manikarnika, whose life was tragically cut short”.

The movie may be described as a “hagiography” of an Indian queen. Shubhra Gupta’s review in The Indian Express explains that the film is “a high-decibel, high-on-rhetoric hagiography of a queen who fought for her people and her land, till her last breath” [cf. https://www.indianexpress.com, 26.01.2019]. The “hagiography” seems understandable – unlike certain other Indian princes, Rani Lakshmi Bai had refused to operate as a “puppet” of the British. Gupta tells us that the latter “make the mistake of thinking that Rani will be a weak puppet, just like her neighbouring princes who have kneeled over at the slightest hint of British aggression, and are living on their pensions” [ibid.].

Thus, and as is the case of so many Bollywood productions, “Manikarnika” the movie wishes to promote “Indianness”, and do so in all of its patriotic and/or nationalistic dimensions. The movie, writes Gupta, “show[s] us what bravery and valour and patriotism is all about”. Palat [op. cit.] describes us how the movie presents Rani’s patriotism and pride – she writes: “When she’s being snarky to the British officers, there’s a slight smirk on her countenance. When she’s in a state of fury, her eyes tear up and her voice gets tremulous and rises a few notches. She stares back unflinchingly when spewing homilies on patriotism and national pride” [my emph.]. She is presented, writes Saibal Chatterjee in NDTV, as “the irrepressible patriot” [cf. https://www.ndtv.com, 06.02.2019]. “All she does”, he explains, “is deliver homilies on patriotism, courage and national pride”. Chatterjee’s review presents us with the following example: “Stating that ‘words without culture have no meaning’… she proceeds to extol the virtues of the mother tongue”. Lakshmi Bai also does a variety of things in the movie that are obviously meant to promote the traditional concept of “Indianness” – consider the following: “… she saves a calf from ending up as lunch for British officers. Can a film about nationalism be complete today without an act of gauraksha?” [ibid.]. “Gauraksha” [or “goraksha”], by the way, means “protector of cows”, associated with the Hindu deity, Shiva [cf. https://www.yogapedia.com].

As is apparent, the ideological discourse of “Manikarnika” the movie goes well beyond the promotion of mere patriotism – it is said to clearly foster Indian nationalism per se. Gupta [op. cit.] observes as follows: “The film skews, naturally, towards the ruling establishment in its exhortation of what nationalism means… As promised, Manikarnika does tick all the nationalistic boxes. It is getting a perfectly-timed Republic Day release. And there are plenty of eye-roll moments as it chases the red-faced Brits, and raises the flag. It may have been Jhansi, but it is clearly a prelude to the ‘tiranga’…” [my emph.]. The term “tiranga” [meaning “tricoloured”] refers to the Indian national flag. The dialogues used in the narrative of the movie are intended to arouse the chauvinistic passions of audiences – Kotecha [op. cit.] writes: “While there is enough chest thumping jingoism throughout, dialogues by Prasoon Joshi are quite impactful and applause-worthy. They succeed in stroking the patriotic passion within the audience without being too overbearing”. And further: “The music by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy add[s] to the patriotic fervour of the movie”. Saibal Chatterjee’s review [op. cit.] also confirms “Manikarnika’s” clear nationalistic intentions – the movie, he writes, is “Avowedly meant to stimulate patriotic zeal… among Indian moviegoers” – a “selfless love for the motherland”. It is of interest to note in this context that the movie’s patriotic or nationalistic ideological discourse is “mixed” with overtones of Indian religious symbolism. Uday Bhatia, writing in the Mint, observes: “This patriotism is mixed with religion until the difference between the two fades. I noticed more gods here – as idols, paintings, sculptures – than in any Hindi film I’ve seen” [cf. https://www.livemint.com, 25.01.2019, my emph. – with respect to Hindu religiosity as practiced in a locality such as East Ham, cf. Paper 4a].

The patriotic and nationalistic discourse of “Manikarnika” the movie goes even further – it intends to suggest that the “sexism” of the present-day Western world had long been transcended in the inherent practices of traditionalist “Indianness”. The latter is said to have once embedded its own special – albeit perhaps not necessarily ubiquitous – elements of “feminism”: Lakshmi Bai, the Rani of Jhansi, is said to symbolize just that. To begin with, Palat [op. cit.] informs us that “She [Kangana] brings her feminist views into the story, which is one of the better points about the film”. This observation, in itself, does not tell us anything about the particular type of “feminism” portrayed in the film – it tells us neither about its special [historical] origins nor about its particular relation to present-day Western [or global] civilization. It is Anna M.M. Vetticad’s review of the movie, written in Firstpost, which goes some way in elucidating the issue of “feminism”, and how that is dealt with in “Manikarnika”. Vetticad writes as follows: “The goosebumps continued in scenes showing the queen in battle, leading her people – men and women – from the front, her sari ‘pallu’ secured around her waist, her flowing hair tied in a tight plait as she fired guns, swiveled her sword and felled enemy soldiers in large numbers. It is hard not to be moved by these passages because we know them to be true – Rani Lakshmibai actually existed and did all these things that 21st century women are still being held back from doing in a persistently patriarchal world” [my emph.]. Vetticad is thus suggesting that traditional, authentic “Indianness” allowed women to “lead”, and – like Rani Lakshmibai in the movie – actually “led” both males and females. She contrasts this to 21st modern patriarchal culture, and as that is being practiced on the global [presumably Western-dominated] terrain. She continues: “Cinemas across the globe are dominated by male protagonists taking centre stage while women support them from the sidelines of life. India’s film industries, Bollywood included, are guilty of this crime as much as anyone else, rarely telling the stories of women or telling them from a female point of view. Whatever the follies of ‘Manikarnika’ maybe [sic], this is why it is important to record right at the start how inspiring and heartening it is to see Rani Lakshmibai played by Kangana Ranaut on her throne and in the battlefield… Ranaut is lithe and lovely, the perfect choice to play this fiery queen whose feats were chronicled with admiration not just by her associates but also by her British opponents” [cf. https://www.firstpost.com, 25.01.2019].

We do not at all mean to present the ideological discourse of “Manikarnika” – be it the “hagiography” of an Indian queen or even the chauvinism that is said to colour its narrative dialogue – in whatever negative light. Ideological discourses serve their necessary functionality in terms of the needs of the State; they also serve the needs of masses of people. Such needs are neither “right” nor “wrong” – they are an objective and perfectly explainable fact of life, and nothing more. It is in the light of such an approach that one needs to understand how the movie chooses to portray the English. Gupta [op. cit.] tells us that “Manikarnika” presents us with “a whole series of bumbling Englishmen”. Kotecha [op. cit.] writes that the movie “throws light on how the riches of India are fast being plundered by the British… Needless to say, most of the British characters come off as caricatures…” Palat [op. cit.] also writes of a “bizarre caricaturing of the English”, and she continues her observations as follows: “In earlier films on freedom struggle,… filmmakers had still tried to make the British officers of the East India Company more nuanced, or to put it in fewer words – more believable. In Manikarnika, the evil and conniving British officers are straight out of an Ekta Kapoor serial”. The latter, by the way, happens to be an Indian T.V. soap opera. The “evil” in the British is above all highlighted in the conflictual relationship between Lakshmi Bai and Sir Hugh Rose – Palat notes: “Interestingly, Manikarnika the film seems to unintentionally be about a war between Laxmibai and a very vengeful and vindictive Sir Hugh Rose (the man who led the army against the queen in 1858). He’s such a bitter soul that he even kills a young child for sharing her name with Laxmibai (What?)”. While Palat seems to be disconcerted by such bias, Chatterjee is not – “Not surprisingly”, he writes, “the British colonial officers… are bad-guy caricatures”.

Ideological discourse is meant to communicate with mass audiences – it may therefore make use of narrative forms that are overly simplistic. While not all Bollywood productions may make use of such particular techniques of mass communication, “Manikarnika” the movie certainly does. Although certain reviewers have been critical of such oversimplicity in the movie’s narrative, we need keep in mind that what really matters – and especially in the case of a motion picture meant to facilitate a particular popular ideology – is the functionality of its discourse vis-à-vis its target audiences [there are other reviewers who do understand the importance of this].“Manikarnika” certainly did [and does] communicate with the Asian masses, both in India and in the diaspora. Keeping this in mind, we shall end our notes on the movie by quoting a number of reviewers on the question of “Manikarnika’s” so-called oversimplicity:

• “It’s all kept deliberately kindergarten-level simple (in some places, even simplistic), linear, first this happened, then this happened, and then” [cf. Gupta, op. cit.].

• “Sadly, the 148-minute Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi,… fails to give Laxmibai’s character some substance and more shades. What Manikarnika turns out to be is thus something straight out of a Class-8 history textbook…” [Palat, op. cit.].

• “These are cartoonish stunts [performed by Ranaut], but nothing outside the Hindi film playbook… [And] the storytelling is structured like a children’s film – albeit one with a fair bit of blood – which may not be a bad move, considering how quickly viewers get used to the simplistic syntax” [cf. Raja Sen, Hindustan Times, https://www.hindustantimes.com, 28.01.2019].

Towards the end of 2019 – by November 15 of that year – Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema would screen a movie by the name of “Marjaavaan” [translated as “I will die”]. This is a Hindi-language romantic action film directed by Milap Zaveri. It starred Sidharth Malhotra who, as we shall see, played Raghuven ‘Raghu’ Nath. The cast also included Tara Sutaria [playing Zoya Ahmed] and Rakul Preet Singh [playing Aarzoo Hussain].

The movie’s storyline has been presented as follows by the Bollywood Hungama News Network: it is “set against the backdrop of the underbelly of Mumbai. In one of the poorer areas of Mumbai, Narayan Anna (Nassar) calls the shots. He has an army of men at his disposal and the most faithful of them is Raghu (Sidharth Malhotra). As an infant, he was found abandoned and it was Narayan Anna who raised him. Raghu is faithful and dedicated and always in the good books of Narayan Anna. As a result, Narayan’s son Vishnu (Riteish Deshmukh), a three-foot-midget, feels very jealous and he detests Raghu. The said locality also consists of a brothel where one of the nautch girls [South Asian traditional dancers; could also operate as prostitutes] is Arzoo (Rakul Preet Singh). She is in love with Raghu but the latter doesn’t believe in this concept. It all however changes when Raghu comes across Zoya (Tara Sutaria), a mute girl from Kashmir. She teaches him the power and importance of music and love. In no time, both fall for each other. Things go smooth until one day, Zoya witnesses a murder committed by Vishnu. Vishnu informs Narayan Anna about it who in turn tells Raghu to finish off Zoya! Raghu decides to elope with Zoya but he’s caught by Vishnu’s men at the bus stand. Also, Vishnu kidnaps two kids – Timepass (Om Kanojia) and Payal (Alina Qazi) – both of whom train [as part of a troupe for a music festival] under Zoya. Narayan Anna then gives Raghu two choices – eliminate Zoya and save Timepass and Payal. Or else, everyone will die. Zoya insists that Raghu should kill her and Raghu reluctantly does so. Raghu is shattered like never before and he’s arrested by ACP [Assistant Commissioner of Police] Ravi Yadav… What happens next forms the rest of the film” [cf. Bollywood Hungama News Network, https://www.bollywoodhungama.com, 15.11.2019].

The Bollywood Hungama News Network review calls this movie “a true blue masala entertainer” [ibid.; with respect to the term “masala”, cf. above].

Now, it should be emphasized that “Marjaavaan” is completely unlike all of the motion pictures that we have thus far presented – and it is of interest for precisely this reason. In sharp contrast to all movies discussed above, “Marjaavaan” does not at all belong to the Bollywoodian “renaissance” of the 1990’s as examined in this Paper 4e [as also in Paper 4d], it being a “renaissance” that would seriously attempt to focus on the national [or even, as we have seen, nationalistic] discourse of “Indianness”. Although, as mentioned, the movie was produced in 2019, it would nonetheless regress to the pre-“renaissance” period. It is therefore of great interest to consider the reactions of Asian audiences to this movie, both in India as also in the Ilford-East Ham area. The case of “Marjaavaan” is also of sociological interest in that it demonstrates how “renaissances” may carry within themselves remnants – or residual cultural practices – of the distant [or fairly distant] past. In this case, and as we shall ascertain, the regression could be said to date back to movie cultural paradigms of the 1970’s.

The vast majority of reviews written on “Marjaavaan” testify to its regressive nature, while some point to the implications of this. We shall here present a number of reviews that discuss this particularly problematic nature of the movie:

• “The film’s plot is reminiscent of many potboilers straight out of the 80s…” [cf. Ronak Kotecha, Times of India, https://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com, 14.11.2019].

• “Milap Milan Zaveri’s story is dated and is reminiscent of the films witnessed in 70s, 80s and 90s. Milap Milan Zaveri’s screenplay sets the film in the same zone…” [cf. Bollywood Hungama News Network, op. cit.].

• “Stuck in the 80s, it is the throwback you don’t need… Marjaavaan belongs to the 80s. We saw its clones and the clones of its clones back in the day and suffered for it. With the 90s new wave, we had hoped that the decade and its particular brand of cinema will forever rest in peace… So set is the formula of an 80s masala film that it may well have been concocted in a test tube by a particularly evil scientist. A boy, an orphan, is rescued by the local crime lord; the said crime lord is the god of the local basti [ghetto] which missed the news alert that India is a democracy with a penal code now; the boy grows up to become the crime lord’s muscle but has a heart of gold. The love of a good virginal woman is his redemption. He does away with the crime lord in a fight sequence in which bodies do cartwheels before they hit the ground. The film outlasts your patience but not before our hero rescues one woman – or five – from getting raped. There will be times he will be too late, a failing he shares with the police in films such as this; so then he avenges the woman… Maybe, just maybe, the older films were a product of their times, when we ostensibly didn’t know any better; back when… creativity was dying a slow death on the front benches of paan-stained theatres [“paan” is an Asian preparation of betel leaf combined with cured tobacco; it is an addictive and euphoria-inducing formulation; also popular amongst Asian diasporic settlers]. Why, oh why, bring it back for an airing in 2019?” [cf. Jyoti Sharma Bawa, Hindustan Times, https://www.hindustantimes.com, 15.11.2019, my emph.].

• “Marjaavaan” is “A stinky dustbin of ’80s Bollywood… The film… has everything borrowed from the worst of Bollywood of that trashy era… If, for some reason, you have an urgent craving for a rather tacky and soulless recap of Bollywood in the half-decent late-Seventies and its quick descent into the terrible Eighties, you could try to sit through Marjaavaan, otherwise a cretin of a film that is a complete waste of time, energy and money” [cf. Suparna Sharma, Deccan Chronicle, https://www.deccanchronicle.com, 16.11.2019, my emph.].

• “If only Marjaavaan was the name of a time capsule whose main aim was to fill you in on everything that was tried, tested and failed from the Eighties… this is not a tongue-in-cheek parody of the problematic film decade, but rather a loud, half-hearted attempt to recreate and celebrate it…” [cf. Ektaa Malik, The Indian Express, https://www.indianexpress.com, 15.11.2019].

• “This movie triggers nightmares about the worst scenarios in the days when ‘masala’ Hindi films [were] released on single screen theatres in the late 1980s and early 1990s. These films would be without much plot, and no narrative layers of any kind. They would begin with random situations presented, there would be movie stars to enact them, and they would end with dead bodies strewn across the screen… ‘Marjaavaan’… [is] a reincarnation of the blood and gore of those times” [cf. Ajit Duara, Open, https://www.openmagazine.com, 16.11.2019].

Audience response to this movie – both in India as also in the Ilford-East Ham region – was especially negative. We may here present a sample comment made by a patron – a certain Minhaz Miah – who had watched the movie at Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema. We read as follows: “I watched a movie here with my partner today and I just wanted to express how disappointed I am with the production. Marjaavaan was my first Hindi movie that I have watched… Please rethink, re-edit and recast this terrible excuse for a movie. I understand this has nothing to do with the cinema itself but I must express my disappointment somewhere” [cf. Google Reviews].

Generally speaking, one could say that at least by the 2000’s, Asian audiences had already come to adjust to – or even demand – the type of Bollywood movie that would be meeting the original standards of the “90s new wave”, and whatever adjunct features had come to accompany such ideological-cultural “renaissance” in the field of movie production. Movies that for some reason or other regressed to the “terrible Eighties” – as did “Marjaavaan” – would simply be rejected.

Such rejection is not only evident in the type of commentaries that have been written on the movie by patrons [both in India and the UK] – it is as much evident in the type of patron behaviour elicited within movie theatres that screened it. We have already discussed above how Bollywood fans usually behave within cinemas – their spontaneous, lively and even boisterous behaviour has been described in a number of contexts both in this Paper 4e as also in Paper 4d. “Marjaavaan” would fail to elicit whatever form of enthusiasm amongst audiences. Malik [op. cit.] observes: “The entire cast talks in one-liners, with the idea of eliciting whistles and claps, but none of the lines land”. And Duara [op. cit.] adds: “In a multiplex theatre, the regurgitation of this old content from a bygone era, appears surreal”.

We shall end this brief survey of Bollywood movies screened at Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema by considering a film shown in March 2020. The screening of this movie, entitled “Chal Mera Putt 2”, would be interrupted by the Covid-19 pandemic; its screening in the UK would be resumed by August 2021.

By way of an introduction to “Chal Mera Putt 2” [an English translation of its title could not be ascertained; reviewers often refer to the movie as “CMP 2”], we may say that this is a 2020 Punjabi-language comedy-drama film directed by Janjot Singh. It starred both Indian and Pakistani Punjabi actors. The movie is a sequel to the highly popular “Chal Mera Putt”, produced in 2019 – this prequel being one of the highest-grossing Punjabi films ever produced, and which is also said to be the highest-grossing Punjabi film amongst the Asian diaspora [cf. https://www.boxofficeindia.com, 27.08.2019].

An Asian residing in the UK would make the following comment after watching “CMP 2” on March 14, 2020: “Non stop brilliance… Absolutely brilliant film, just watched the first showing in UK and can’t wait to go watch it again! Never wanted the film to end! Can’t wait for the 3rd installment” [cf. Internet Movie Database, https://www.imdb.com, 14.03.2020]. A Cineworld Cinema patron by the name of Gowhar Shaikh [cf. Paper 4d], who would also watch the movie in that period of time, would note: “Had a great evening… Watched Chal Mera Putt 2. Laughed so much. Packed cinema…” [my emph.].

Writing in August 2021, when the movie would be back on the screens yet once more, a reviewer by the name of Alisha would comment as follows in Get India News: “… the popular 2020 Punjabi language comedy-drama ‘Chal Mera Putt 2’ is back and the fans are keenly waiting to watch it once again… The film was the direct sequel of the 2019 film ‘Chal Mera Putt’…” [cf. https://www.getindianews.com, 28.08.2021].

Formal reviews of the movie have thus far been relatively scant – our notes on “CMP 2” shall therefore draw heavily on the comments of cinemagoers who watched the movie [we shall be making use of commentary retrieved from the Internet Movie Database, op. cit., as also from Goggle Reviews, op. cit.; all comments were recorded either in 2020 or 2021]. As we shall see below, patron comments are here of special interest, given the particular theme of the movie.

Before we examine the theme of “CMP 2”, it is of importance to note that this movie was shot both in the UK [Birmingham] and in India – this is of significance as we here have yet another case of what has been termed “creative collaboration” [cf. above]. As already discussed, such “collaboration” testifies to the importance of diasporic audiences in determining the very content of an Indian movie – it is precisely such “collaboration” in “CMP 2” that determined its own narrative theme, it being a focus on the experiences of diasporic Asians in India.

More specifically, the theme of the movie revolves around the experiences of illegal immigrants in the UK, and it is on such theme that we need to dwell if we are to understand the intentions of “CMP 2”.

The illegal immigrants portrayed in the movie are all Punjabis originating either from Pakistan or India, and the narrative focuses on their struggles to survive and settle in a foreign land, the UK. Gurlove Singh, writing in BookMyShow, presents the central theme of “CMP 2” as follows: “Jinder… and others [viz. the rest of the Punjabi immigrants]… continue living together under one roof in the UK. Their struggle to earn pounds and make ends meet whilst also sending money home and getting permanent residency in the UK still continues. But they take it all with smiles on their faces. The owner of the house they’re living in comes back to demand rent. Thus starts the struggle of arranging money or else they must vacate the house… [T]he emotional bond that they all share with each other is what wins your heart over… At times, the film tends to speak the language of the youth who face problems in foreign lands…” [cf. https://www.in.bookmyshow.com, 13.03.2020].

The theme of the movie makes a number of salient points regarding the phenomenon of illegal immigration, and especially as that is manifested amongst Asians wishing to settle in the UK. We shall present these points by recording a number of quotes retrieved either from writers formally reviewing the movie in various publications and/or platforms or from comments made by cinemagoers [whatever repetition of ideas or impressions would simply verify the points highlighted]. There is no need to discuss the quotes separately, as each speaks for itself – we shall, however, draw a number of general conclusions based on the quotes. Consider the following:

• “The genre of the film is comedy-drama which means audiences can watch and enjoy this film with their family. The story of the film revolves around Punjabis trying hard to make a living in a foreign land. The film carries forward the same eccentric friendship and love amongst illegal immigrants who strive for their PR [Permanent Residency] in the UK, as last in superhit Chal Mera Putt. It’s a tale of the problems they face and how they conquer them. They come across a few like-minded roles adding more pleasure to their journey showing us that when it comes to the grapple of life, no border can separate human hearts and the love inside” [cf. Alisha, op. cit., my emph.].

• “Movie is showing true reality of immigrant’s life in foreign countries where they go for sake of good life and struggling with own life problem and do work and help each [other]… Picture also showing love between of people who devided by borders also the bonding between each character” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Internet Movie Database, 05.09.2021, my emph.]. Although the English syntax is problematic, as is the spelling, the comment does make full sense – this also applies to other cinemagoer comments presented below.

• “Best Punjabi movie… This movie can tell about many things like emotions or… especially for foreign worker… excellent approach” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Internet Movie Database, 17.03.2021].

• “Awesome movie great work by all. Reflects the love and emotion of immigrants” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

• The movie depicts, inter alia, “the friendship between Pakistani and Indians at London…” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified].

• “And heading towards the plot of the movie,… it’s based on the lives of six illegal migrants from India and Pakistan, living, struggling and sharing laughter together. It is basically the story of any individual who’s living away from his family, and struggling to get good work and make his family proud. And this is exactly what makes the story and theme of the movie most relevant and relatable…” [cf. Kiddaan.com Team, Kiddaan, https://www.kiddaan.com, 27.08.2021, my emph.].

• “Must watch movie… based on true reality, shows the hardwork and dedication each and every citizen of India does for family” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Internet Movie Database, 20.03.2020, my emph.].

• “Excellent movie! Brilliant comedy, brings together some of the best talent from two countries, showing the tough situations faced by illegal immigrants in England” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Internet Movie Database, 29.08.2021, my emph.].

• “… this [movie] shows a poor vision into how immigrants are living in the UK whom originated from India. No new content” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Internet Movie Database, 19.03.2020].

Based on these quotes, one may say that the salient points regarding illegal immigrants in the UK are the following:

• Tight emotional bonds [of “love”] are forged amongst Asian migrants living illegally in the UK.

• Illegal migrants originating from India and trying to settle in the UK are above all “citizens of India” dedicated to their family back home – and they wish to make their family “proud” of them.

• The “situations” faced by illegal immigrants in the UK are “tough” – this point is especially reminiscent of the observation made by Krämer [op. cit.], who has argued that one thematic notion characteristic of the Bollywood genre is the portrayal of the West and/or the UK as a “negative reality” or as “potentially dangerous” for Asian migrants and settlers.

We may now supplement the quotes recorded above by presenting yet another set of comments that capture the sentiments and impressions of Asians who watched “CMP 2” – all such subjective commentary certainly verifies the salient points regarding illegal migrants as delineated above. Consider the following:

• “A good movie on a very important subject. The acting by the lead All Cast is outstanding” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Internet Movie Database, 29.08.2021, my emph.].

• “… absolutely true issues are highlighted of immigrants… Love Punjab and a great movie” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

• “Awesome movie, it is movie you should watch to have a good laugh as well as to see the troubles of illegal immigrants and their hardships, very realistic movie” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

• “Trying to give moral message to Punjabis in foreign [countries] or plan to go foreign. But message is incomplete. But a good initiative to do so” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

• “A very good and a must watch movie for those who love to spread peace and harmony among nations” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

• “It is give a big moral of our life and the important thing of Indian and Pakistani Punjabi people very nice” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

• “Excellent movie. Full of fun and family movie with great lesson of peace between Pakistan & India” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

• “Very heart touching movie. Made me cry. Remind me the struggling days” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

• “The very good movie I say it today after interval all started crying in my all around” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

• “It’s more than a movie because every Punjabi experienced those things in foreign countries during their work” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

• “Very upsetting as this Indian movie has Pakistani actors. Say no to movie…” [cf. comment by cinemagoer, Google Reviews, date not specified, my emph.].

We shall end our notes on “CMP 2” with two final comments made by cinemagoers, both of which place emphasis on the Pollywoodian [cf. Paper 4d] and/or Punjabi genre of India’s film industry, to which “CMP 2” naturally belongs:

• “Future is Pollywood… Very nice movie. No nudity no profanity complete “U” family entertainer [“U” standing for “universal”; it suggests that a movie is suitable for all audiences over the age of four]… Hollywood/Bollywood/Tollywood should learn how to make family movies. Well done Rhythm Boyz production house. They always come up with beautiful content” [cf. comment made by cinemagoer, Internet Movie Database, 29.08.2021, my emph.]. It should be noted that Rhythm Boyz Entertainment INC is a Punjabi film production and distribution company founded in 2013.

• “Must watch Punjabi movie. If you are Punjabi you must watch this. You will love this in every possible way. Background music so perfect. Best wishes to Rhythm Boyz” [cf. comment made by cinemagoer, Internet Movie Database, 29.08.2021, my emph.].

The UK’s Muslim community and its relation to the Bollywood phenomenon – cf. forthcoming Paper 4e/cont.

The post 4e – LONDON: SETTLERS, COCKNEYS, AND THE “CITY TYPE”: THE CASE OF “LITTLE INDIA” – EAST HAM appeared first on Greek Social & Literary Review - Ελληνική Κοινωνική & Λογοτεχνική Επιθεώρηση.

By Antonia Gounaropoulou
Translated by Panagiotis Tourikis

Now that we meet deeper in the track
Now that the foregone are shadows, pits in the ground
And it is on us that the loggers advance
To paint red circles on our trunks
Please hide explosions deep in your foliage
And when the blade touches the bark – explode
Blast off the bird nests
The dried leaves
The blanketed green eyes that shan’t bud in spring
Blast high near far and low
To the trunks that grew in your time
And which loggers have stamped next in line

For so might we meet again
In our last remaining foliage.

Athens, Autumn 2021

Μήνυμα σε φίλους

Τώρα που βρεθήκαμε πιο βαθιά στο μονοπάτι
Τώρα που οι προηγούμενοι έγιναν τρύπες στο χώμα, πλάτες και ίσκιοι
Κι είναι σ’ εμάς που έρχονται οι ξυλοκόποι
Να σύρουν κύκλους κόκκινη μπογιά στους κορμούς μας
Παρακαλώ φυλάξτε εκρήξεις κρυμμένες στα φυλλώματα
Κι όταν αγγίξει ο τροχός το φλοιό εκραγείτε
Εκτοξεύστε τις φωλιές των πουλιών
Τα ξεραμένα φύλλα
Τα φασκιωμένα πράσινα μάτια που δε θ’ ανοίξουν την άνοιξη
Ψηλά κοντά μακριά χαμηλά
Στους κορμούς που μεγαλώσαν περίπου μαζί σας
Κι οι ξυλοκόποι έχουν σταμπάρει για λίγο μετά

Γιατί έτσι μπορεί να βρεθούμε ξανά
Στα φυλλώματα του τελευταίου.

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She stood by the door eyeing
the width and length
her mother had given
to the yarn of white.

The pigeons' wings stretched flat.
He who tossed them high
tonight lay covered
by a somber beech wood sky.

First published in The Books’ Journal, issue no. 112, Athens: October 2020
Diakopto, Achaea, Summer 2021

Το κουβερλί

Στεκόταν στην πόρτα και κοιτούσε
το πλάτος και το μήκος
που έδωσε η μάνα της
στο άσπρο νήμα.

Άπλωναν επίπεδα φτερά τα περιστέρια.
Το σώμα που τα τίναζε ψηλά
το σκέπαζε απόψε
μαύρος ουρανός από οξιά.

Πρώτη δημοσίευση: The Books’ Journal, τεύχ. 112, Αθήνα: Οκτώβριος 2020

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By Antonia Gounaropoulou

Translated by Panagiotis Tourikis

We translate hospitals
their gates
the dusty trees in parking lots
the wide marble steps of entrances
where gypsies drag their sweeping skirts
and the belated strike their feet
in haste, as when you hope to reach the harbor
just in time to catch the eye
of him on deck, departing.

We translate the ambivalent
open doors of wards,
“I am always here” or “here no more”,
today it was “always here”,
come tomorrow maybe meanings
won’t shed their skin.

We translate the lifting of the hand,
the angles of the arm to the shoulder,
acute angle sitting beside you
I held your hand in the triumph of your eyes,
right angle standing beside you
I showed you Athens through the window
when our days of old had overcome,
obtuse angle I lost, all lost,
fingers woefully tangled in the hair
as I turn aside that you may not see.

We translate the tempo of our talk
when you speak, and I jump in, then you do
– we both pin our faith on something –
then I no longer respond, silence,
your voice sounded like silence
in retreat.

In the end we descend the selfsame steps
shrunk beneath the sky,
shrunk within this vast expanse
that knows how only to contain,
shrunk within the pupils of our eyes,
when persistently, at night,
they reflect a lesser self.

From the collection of poems The Star of Nothingness, Athens: Oropedio 2012
Diakopto, Achaea, Summer 2021

Ana Grise

Μεταφράζουμε τα νοσοκομεία
τις πύλες τους
τα σκονισμένα δέντρα στους χώρους στάθμευσης
τις φαρδιές μαρμάρινες σκάλες στις εισόδους
όπου οι γύφτισσες σέρνουν τις μακριές τους φούστες
κι οι αργοπορημένοι χτυπούν τα πέλματά τους
βιαστικά, όπως όταν ελπίζεις να φτάσεις στο λιμάνι
όσο ακόμα θα μπορεί να σε διακρίνει
απ’ το κατάστρωμα αυτός που φεύγει.

Μεταφράζουμε τις αμφίσημες
ανοιχτές πόρτες των δωματίων,
«είμαι πάντα εδώ» ή «έχω πια φύγει»,
σήμερα ήταν «είμαι πάντα εδώ»,
αύριο ίσως να μην αλλάξουν
δέρμα τα νοήματα.

Μεταφράζουμε την ανάταση του χεριού,
τις γωνίες του βραχίονα προς τον ώμο,
οξεία γωνία καθισμένη δίπλα σου
σου κράτησα το χέρι όταν τα μάτια σου κέρδισαν,
ορθή γωνία όρθια δίπλα σου
σου έδειξα απ’ το παράθυρο την Αθήνα
όταν κέρδισαν οι παλιές μας μέρες,
αμβλεία γωνία έχασα, έχασα,
τα δάχτυλα απελπισμένα μπλέκονται στα μαλλιά
καθώς σου γυρνώ την πλάτη για να μη βλέπεις.

Μεταφράζουμε την ταχύτητα των διαλόγων
όταν κάτι μου λες, κι αμέσως λέω, και λες
– σε κάτι πιστεύουμε κι οι δυο μας –
μετά δεν απαντώ, σιωπή,
η φωνή σου ακούστηκε σαν σιωπή
που εκπνέει.

Στο τέλος κατεβαίνουμε τις ίδιες σκάλες
συρρικνωμένοι κάτω απ’ τον ουρανό,
συρρικνωμένοι σ’ όλην αυτή την έκταση
που ξέρει μόνο να περιέχει,
συρρικνωμένοι μέσα στις κόρες των ματιών
όταν επίμονα, το βράδυ,
μας επιστρέφουν πιο λειψό τον εαυτό μας.

Από την ποιητική συλλογή Το άστρο του Τίποτε, Αθήνα: Οροπέδιο 2012

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ETHNIC-BASED CINEMAGOING PRACTICES

Some notes on the work method employed in this paper

We have thus far examined the case of East Ham and its environs by focusing on this locality as a mosaic of “cultural clusters”, each of which is organized around a series of ethnic-based cultural practices. By way of a reminder, we may here note that Paper 4a concentrated on an examination of ethnic-based religious practices in the locality; Paper 4b concentrated on an examination of the locality’s ethnic-based eating habits; and Paper 4c concentrated on the predominant tastes pertaining to ethnic-based attire. In this Paper 4d [and which continues with Paper 4e], we shall be turning to practices related to ethnic-based cinemagoing in the locality of East Ham and its environs.

In attempting to examine cinemagoing in this locality and its environs, our work has been tentative and continually adjustive to the empirical data as we came to discover these along the way of research work. Sociological research findings already published – as also related analyses of the question of what is usually referred to as the Bollywood phenomenon in the UK – have also been employed to help us understand ethnic-based cinemagoing in the locality of East Ham. Ultimately, we came up with a work-plan that can more or less be summarized as follows:

• We commence this work with a simple but what we consider to be an absolutely important “methodological note”: having noticed a certain defective “methodological” approach employed in some of the sociological papers on the phenomenon of Bollywood, we briefly point to the implications of this and try to explain why this is not the manner in which sociologists ought to work, whatever their ideological persuasions [and these they do have].

• The phenomenon of Bollywood is very generally – not to say sketchily – introduced, but especially as it came to establish itself in the 1990’s. We also point to India’s regional movie industries and how these are closely related to the Bollywood phenomenon but may not easily be reduced to it.

• We then posit what may be considered to be the central question of this paper, and do so with a view to ultimately offering a tangible and verifiable answer to it – viz. is it accurate to assume that the phenomenon of Bollywood is indicative of what has been called “media globalization”? Is the latter not a myth?

• Specifically with respect to the phenomenon of Bollywood in the UK – and even more specifically as regards East Ham and its environs – we examine the emergence and establishment of the “independent”, Bollywood-specialist type of cinema. We also examine the emergence and establishment of the multiplex – and therefore not “independent” – type of cinema chain also engaged in the showing of Bollywood movies. The competitive relationship between these two types of cinemas is also briefly explored.

• We proceed to present East Ham’s own historic and “independent” Bollywood-specialist cinema – viz. the well-known Boleyn Cinema. And we further present Ilford’s chain cinema that has itself systematically engaged in the showing of Bollywood films – viz. the multiplex Cineworld Cinema. A brief reference is further made to East Ham’s historic Granada Cinema, which also had – for a certain span of time – itself catered to audiences watching Bollywood movies. Merely by way of an introduction to these three venues, we present some brief historical notes relating to their establishment and operation.

• Having introduced these three venues, we then concentrate on an examination of ethnic-based cinemagoing practices in the locality of East Ham and its environs – to do this, we begin by researching the case of the “independent” Boleyn Cinema. We discuss what types of movies have been shown in this theatre and the sentiments of locals regarding such shows. We further examine the “atmosphere” of this cinema and how such “atmosphere” relates to India and Indian culture. We discuss the types of audiences that frequent – or, rather, have frequented – the Boleyn and the role of the Indian family unit in forming such audiences. We also examine the condition of the venue in terms of its upkeep through the years and its operation. Finally, we investigate the question of the cinema’s ticket pricing policy.

• Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema, the multiplex chain cinema, is similarly researched.

• The empirical data we have collected on these two cinemas, as also various published research findings and analyses regarding the phenomenon of Bollywood in the UK, allow us to draw certain specific conclusions regarding the socio-cultural functions of venues such as that of the Boleyn Cinema or of the Cineworld Cinema. We shall attempt to show how these two cinemas have played a significant role in the ethnic-based cultural bonding of the community’s “cultural clusters”. We shall present examples of how such cultural bonding is materialized through the manner in which cinema audiences come to congregate and behave within the theatres.

• Apart from the manner of congregation, cultural bonding is also materialized through the discourse of the motion pictures being watched [literature on this issue shall be reviewed and evaluated]. To show how movie discourse bonds a “cultural cluster” or “clusters” within a community, we shall undertake an examination of a sample of Bollywood movies that have been shown in the Boleyn and Cineworld venues. This may allow us to consider a number of implications regarding the ideological content of Bollywood movies and the impact of such content with respect to the type of bonding that ensues.

• Given that Muslim settlers constitute a significant factor in the formation of the area’s “cultural clusters” [cf. Paper 4a regarding, inter alia, their numerical presence in the locality of East Ham], we shall need to consider the very special relationship between the Muslim worldview and the practice of cinemagoing.

• As is well known, the phenomenon of Bollywood is not merely restricted to motion picture production and cinemagoing – it has also generated a whole range of cultural by-products closely related, in one way or another, to this genre. One such by-product is “Bollywood dancing”, a practice that is quite popular amongst certain segments of East Ham’s “cultural clusters”. By way of an appendix to this paper, we shall therefore also present a number of findings pertaining to the practice of “Bollywood dancing” in the locality, and draw some tentative conclusions.

A general “methodological note”: how not to work

In 2006, Rajinder Kumar Dudrah published a study of the phenomenon of Bollywood as practiced in the UK – the book is entitled Bollywood: Sociology Goes to the Movies [Sage Publications], and we intend to deal with some of the study’s findings and analyses below. We choose to begin this brief “methodological note” by simply mentioning Dudrah’s work – at this point – as it is fairly representative of a series of studies that attempt to deal with the phenomenon of Bollywood, not only seriously, but also from the perspective of sociology, whatever be the sociological school that informs such perspective. We find this important for the simple reason that popular cinemagoing is one cultural practice constituting the real world of real people, and which therefore definitely deserves to be examined from a rigorous sociological perspective – on the other hand, neither highly abstract categories [and the theories that concoct these] nor journalistic chatter can do justice to the matter.

We believe that all types of sociological schools and tendencies can contribute to an understanding of the Bollywood phenomenon. And yet, whatever intended contribution can be thwarted unless certain basic methodological criteria are met, and one could enumerate a series of these. In examining data relating to cinemagoing, however, there is one simple criterion that needs not to be forgotten: all data, whether or not these fit the abstract boxes of one’s adopted theory, should be recorded and evaluated.

One is forced to make such a simple observation regarding method of work because some of the researchers that have worked on the Bollywood phenomenon have treated their material with a certain obtuse selectivity that reveals an absence of understanding as to the purpose of sociological research in general. One such is Shakuntala Banaji’s work, and especially his Reading ‘Bollywood’: The Young Audience and Hindu Films, Palgrave Macmillan, 2006. Certainly not all of Banaji’s findings and analyses are to be rejected, and we do make use of some of his observations in this paper. On the other hand, when Banaji wishes to examine why Indians go to the movies and what they do there – an area which this paper will also try to explore with reference to East Ham’s cinemas – this is what he writes in his 2006 study: “At a commonsense or superficial level, people everywhere have beliefs and opinions about the reasons why others go to the movies and the things they do there. Take, for instance, these statements by middle-aged middle-class men and women I spoke to…: ‘Lower-class men whistle at the screen when a heroine walks on, they cause all the disturbance, education will change that’; ‘College students go to the cinema to watch rubbish – they have no taste these days!’; ‘Television is a more comfortable way of watching films than going to the cinema’; ‘No decent woman wants to see nudity in Hindi films’; ‘Lower-class people are only attracted to the cinema halls because of the sex-rape scenes and all the fighting, nowadays films are cleaner so these types don’t attend so much’. Some of the assumptions made here are so evidently prejudiced along lines of class or gender that we might discount them. Others contain more subtle misapprehensions and may well enter cultural studies literature around Hindi films without much debate” [p. 33, my emph.].

Banaji, it seems, wishes to understand the Bollywood phenomenon by first selecting what scraps of data may or may not “enter” what he deems to be the field of sociology, depending on the degree of “apprehension” or “misapprehension” [regarding the practice of cinemagoing] that a datum represents. It goes without saying that this method of work constitutes a very serious misunderstanding of sociological research, and it may easily be contrasted to our own presentation of audience reactions and appraisals as to what happens in the East Ham cinema halls that people frequent. All forms of so-called “prejudice” and whatever forms of so-called “misapprehension” are absolutely real phenomena that make up a complex and contradictory real world – and it is precisely these that have to be described and, if possible, explained [the explanation of such phenomena can often prove dubious, especially when one uses a simple, linear cause-effect model]. Banaji’s approach willfully forgets that it is a mere “academic” prejudice to call what is deemed to be a “prejudice” a prejudice per se – and, in any case, who is it that gets to decide what is or is not a “prejudice”? There is one final point one should make here, and perhaps the most important of all: even if Banaji’s evaluation of “prejudice” is actually “objective”, he fails to consider the role of “prejudice” – and that of the “irrational” – in human society and history [a certain consideration of, say, Vilfredo Pareto’s work would certainly have helped Banaji overcome his own “misapprehensions” of human behaviour].

An introduction to the phenomenon of Bollywood, early-1990’s

We shall here introduce the phenomenon of Bollywood – and as that emerged in the period of the early-1990’s – by making a number of very rough observations, although we do consider such observations to be of paramount importance for our own particular purposes. This introduction shall have to remain very sketchy: the literature on Bollywood – be it of an academic, encyclopedic or even a journalistic nature – is so vast that we need not repeat the work already done by others.

In discussing the Hindi film industry, almost all commentators have drawn a clear distinction between the period of the mid-1980’s and that of the early-1990’s. For reasons that we need not dwell on at all [these concern the socio-economic history of India itself], it may be said that the former period was a time when the Hindi film had lost its “Indianness”; the latter period, however, was to mark a return to an intrinsic Indian ideological discourse. It was this revitalization of “Indianness” that the Bollywood genre of the 1990’s was to express in its overall diegetic approach.

There is much in the literature on Bollywood that captures this rupture between the 1980’s and the 1990’s, and does so in a variety of ways. One book, for instance, examines this rupture by focusing on the Hindi song and its role in Hindi movies – consider the following extract from Ganesh Anantharaman’s work, Bollywood Melodies: A History of the Hindi Film Song, Penguin Books India, 2008: “But alas,… somewhere in the mid-1980s, the Hindi film song started to lose its ‘Indianness’, and it was only in the early 1990s with movies such as ‘Aashiqui’, ‘Dil Hain Ki Maanta Nahim’ and ‘Saajan’, and the arrival of Nadeem-Shravan, that there was a return to the intrinsic Indian melody” [p. xiv].

By the 1990’s, the ideological discourse of many Hindi movies – as manifested, inter alia, in their narrative and music – was to be dominated by this newly rediscovered “Indianness”. And it would be this new genre that would come to be named “Bollywood”. Lucia Krämer, in her excellent study, Bollywood in Britain: Cinema, Brand, Discursive Complex, Bloomsbury Publishing PLC, 2017 [no on-line pagination], notes: “… ‘Bollywood’ denotes the popular Hindi cinema since the mid-1990s and the industry that produces it”. As to the origins of the term “Bollywood”, and presumably making use of information available in Madhava Prasad’s work [cf. “The Name of a Desire: Why They Call It Bollywood”, in Unsettling Cinema – A Symposium on the Place of Cinema in India, May 2003], Krämer writes: “The exact origin of the term ‘Bollywood’ remains uncertain. Prasad records the use of the term ‘Tollywood’ – a playful reference to the Bengali film industry complex of Tollygunge – in a telegram to an American film engineer in 1932, which he considers a precursor of ‘Bollywood’…”

The term “Bollywood”, of course, refers to the City of Bombay – and which is home to the specifically Hindi-language film industry. All too often, however – and especially in the case of Western journalists – the term “Bollywood” is somewhat mistakenly used to refer to whatever film is produced in India, thus ignoring the rest of India’s regional cinemas. On the other hand, one could say that such oversight is merely symptomatic of the fact that Bollywood per se remains the dominant ideological mechanism determining the discourse of “Indianness”. Regarding this matter, Krämer writes: “The fact that the reference to ‘Bombay’ in ‘Bollywood’ also implies a distinction between Hindi cinema and other Indian regional cinemas is often overlooked by foreigners. Even though the Tamil and Telugu film industries in South India are equally or even more prolific…, Hindi films, for the mere reason of language, have the widest national circulation and dominate the discourse about Indian cinema. They are a standard that other regional cinemas follow both aesthetically and economically…”

We shall be discussing in what follows how and why this revitalization of the Bollywood phenomenon would percolate into the “cultural clusters” of the UK, and with specific reference to the area of East Ham. Here, we may merely note the types and sub-types of Indian movies that would be shown in the UK by the 1990’s, though always keeping in mind the dominance of the Hindi movie and its ideology of “Indianness”. Krämer informs us as follows: “With rare exceptions, almost all Indian releases in the UK are Indian mainstream movies. The majority have been in Hindi, although Tamil films and, to a lesser degree, Punjabi films have had a smaller but stable presence in the cinemas. Films in other Indian languages, like Telugu or Urdu, in contrast, play a decidedly minor role in theatrical exhibition”. In our forthcoming examination of the movie experiences of East Ham local audiences, we shall see that all or most of the movies that these audiences would be watching are exactly the type listed by Krämer – two types that are not mentioned in her list, however, are the Kannada segment of the Indian cinema and the Malayalam-language movies. We may in any case simply present here – and based mostly on Krämer’s observations – the various types and sub-types of Indian movies in terms of language used, and do so in the order of their relative prevalence in UK’s movie theatres:

• First in the order of prevalence in UK movie theatres: the Hindi-language films, these constituting Bollywood proper both as an industry and as the dominant genre.

• Second in the order of prevalence: the Tamil-language films. The film industry producing Tamil-language films is often referred to as Kollywood – East Ham’s Boleyn Cinema, according to locals, is said to have been showing all of the latest Kollywood movies on a weekly basis [we shall of course be devoting special sections below to the type of movies that East Ham’s Boleyn and Cineworld cinemas have been showing for locals].

• Third in the order of prevalence: the Punjabi-language films – this particular film industry is often referred to as Pollywood.

• Fourth in the order of prevalence: the Telugu-language and the Urdu-language films. We may note here, firstly, that Telugu-language films are also referred to as the Tollywood cinema [this term, by the way, has also been used to refer to the Bengali-language industry, cf. above]. It may simply be mentioned here that – at least according to some East Hammers – the Boleyn Cinema has been showing all or most of the types of Tollywood movies through the years. Secondly, and as regards Urdu-language films, we may say that these are mostly produced in Pakistan [the film industry in this case is referred to as Lollywood]; some Urdu-language films are also produced in India.

• We cannot determine the degree of prevalence regarding Kannada-language films in UK movie theatres. As we shall see below, however, quite a number of locals frequenting Ilford’s Cineworld have expressed a steady preference for Kannada-language films. Regarding this type of regional movie, Wikipedia notes: “Kannada cinema, also known as Sandalwood or Chandanavana, is the segment of Indian cinema dedicated to the production of motion pictures in the Kannada language widely spoken in the state of Karnataka”.

• It has also proven difficult to determine the degree of prevalence regarding Malayalam-language films in the UK’s movie theatres. Based on audience comments, we know that the Cineworld Cinema, at least, has been showing almost all of Malayalam-language film releases – many locals have expressed an appreciation for this. Wikipedia informs us that “The Malayalam cinema is the Indian film industry based in the southern state of Kerala”. The sobriquet often used to refer to this film industry – the fourth biggest in India – is Mollywood.

One could roughly say, therefore, that the types and/or sub-types of Asian films that prevail in the movie theatres of East Ham and its environs come to seven – summarily, these are the following:

• Hindi-language Bollywood

• Tamil-language Kollywood

• Punjabi-language Pollywood

• Telugu-language Tollywood

• Urdu-language Lollywood

• Kannada-language Sandalwood

• Malayalam-language Mollywood

Since it is the Bollywood industry that operates as the dominant standard for the rest of the regional film industries, we shall have to use the term “Bollywood” as a generic term covering the whole of Asian – and especially Indian – film production [unless specific regional cinemas are being discussed]. Now, and having said that, it has been observed that Bollywood-as-a-whole is characterized by at least six basic genres within itself. Dudrah, in his Bollywood: Sociology Goes to the Movies [op. cit.], writes: “… Bollywood comprises several genres of films,… five generic strands of films can be loosely identified. Devotional Films, Historic Films, Social Films or Topicals, Muslim Social Films, and Masala Films [mixed genres]… [But there is also] a sixth genre, that of Romantic Films…” [no on-line pagination]. We shall come across – and discuss – all or most of these genres as we examine various movies that have been shown in the Boleyn and Cineworld cinemas.

Raising the central question: is Bollywood a symptom of “media globalization”?

As mentioned, one of the basic purposes of this paper is to answer what we consider to be a central question: to what extent is the Bollywood phenomenon indicative of what has so often been presented as “media globalization” and to what extent has this been a mere myth? We intend to answer the question, not by indulging in abstract generalizations, but by examining the phenomenon there where the rubber hits the road – viz. the locality of East Ham and the cinemagoing practices of its locals.

Krämer introduces her work [op. cit.] by writing: “Bollywood appears like one of the most obvious examples and success stories of media globalization”. We need emphasize the word “appears”.

The mere fact that India’s Bollywood movies are systematically shown in countries such as the UK – as also in so many others – would suggest such “media globalization”, confirming that “appearance”. Krämer continues: “It [Bollywood] really does seem like a perfect case of media globalization… Yet media globalization is a highly contested concept”.

Such contestation of this so-called “concept” is evident in a variety of literature on Bollywood – one such is the work of Kai Hafez, The Myth of Media Globalization, Polity Press, 2007 [originally published in German, 2005]. We shall of course be making use of some of the data and analyses presented in this work.

The mere fact that there is controversy surrounding the “globalization” of Bollywood allows us, not to only raise the question for ourselves, but to actually attempt to answer it by examining the real life situation of a locality such as East Ham.

The “independent” Asian cinemas versus the multiplex cinema chains – in the UK generally and in East Ham in particular

From a general, historical perspective – and according to Krämer [op. cit] – it was in the decade of the 1970’s that we would see the first appearance of the “specialist” Indian cinemas in the UK and on a nationwide scale. Ultimately coming to 120 venues, they would show Indian films either full time or only part time. This was not, however, the first time that UK’s Indian settlers would have access to Indian films – Krämer explains: “Before then, Indian films would have been screened at off-peak times on weekends at mainstream cinemas hired for these particular shows, especially in areas with large Asian population groups…” [my emph.]. We see here, therefore, that the gradual process of the crystallization of ethnic-based “cultural clusters” originating from India would be accompanied by either the early emergence of the “specialist” Indian cinema or by the partial or ad hoc utilization of mainstream cinemas to serve the cultural needs of such crystallizing “clusters”.

The ultimate consummation of these Asian “cultural clusters” in the UK, together with the consolidation of Bollywood proper in India itself – both by the 1990’s – would signal the re-emergence of Bollywood cinemagoing in the UK. And we would thus have a return to the establishment of the “specialized” Indian cinema in many localities of the UK, a typical example of which would be East Ham and its environs. Krämer notes that “the 1990s… saw the re-emergence of Bollywood cinema-going, at first in the shape of individual late-night screenings, which developed into longer runs… Later, with the arrival of successful big-budget movies [from India], specialized cinemas with South Asian programming returned”.

The introduction of big-budget Bollywood movies to cater for the needs of UK’s Indian settlers in the early-1990’s had been initiated by Asian entrepreneurs based in the country – their initiative had been prompted by two factors already alluded to: [i] the resurgence of India’s Bollywood movie industry, and which had meant the return of India’s middle classes to the cinemas, something that the UK entrepreneurs would see as an opportunity to reproduce in the UK as well; and [ii] such an entrepreneurial opportunity existed precisely because the UK’s Indian “cultural clusters” had expanded and crystallized to such an extent as to form a ready market. The privately hired film venues for individual screenings and the ultimately longer runs – as mentioned above – were so successful that “special” cinema venues for the exclusive screening of Bollywood movies would gradually come to be established, as they were. And thus we would have the establishment of the Boleyn cinema in East Ham. Krämer puts this as follows: “This model [viz. the privately hired venues] was so successful that by the end of the 1990s cinemas specializing in South Asian programming started to re-emerge in areas with large British Asian population groups. Cinemas like… the Boleyn Cinema in East Ham… were manifestations of this development” [my emph.].

Such a set of historical circumstances, however, would not only be manifested through the emergence of the “specialized” Bollywood-screening cinemas, which – from what we may gather – were usually set up, owned and managed by Indians themselves. At the same time – viz. the end of the 1990’s – the big Bollywood releases would also be screened by cinema multiplex chains operating in the UK, and obviously situated in or near localities where the appropriate “cultural clusters” would be settled. Krämer writes: “By the end of the decade [of the 1990’s], the biggest releases even found their way onto individual multiplex screens, with UCI [United Cinemas International] multiplexes, which would later become part of the Odeon Cinemas chain, showing Indian films at least twice a week at their sixteen venues”. In the case of the vicinity of East Ham, the cinema multiplex chain catering to ethnic “cultural clusters” would be Ilford’s Cineworld [but which would not itself belong to the Odeon chain].

As in other localities characterized by related ethnic-based “cultural clusters”, the region of East Ham would therefore be served by two different types of cinemas, both of which would compete for Asian audiences interested in Bollywood movies. By 2015 and onwards, such competition would place the “independent” Boleyn Cinema – as all such types of cinemas operating elsewhere in the UK – under increasing economic pressure. Krämer continues: “These specialized cinemas are clearly under enormous economic pressure from the multiplexes, which have been showing Indian films nationally and on a regular basis for years.” The overall result of this has been two-fold: on the one hand, South Asian screens would dwindle in number; on the other hand, the actual screening of Indian films generally has been expanding.

This dwindling in the number of South Asian screens – and right at the same time as the screening of Bollywood movies in the UK was expanding – would obviously mean that the “independent” cinemas would generally be yielding to the multiplexes. Krämer presents this as a foregone conclusion – she writes that “the independent cinemas have ceded the Bollywood market practically exclusively to the multiplexes, which jostle for the available clients in their local and regional catchment areas”.

Practically speaking, this ceding to multiplex chains would mean that the screening of Bollywood movies in the UK would be taken out of the hands of Asians. It is suggested by Krämer – and based on her readings of other analysts as well – that Asian agents and Asian-owned cinemas could be rendered redundant in their struggle to survive in the face of the competition posed by the multiplex chains.

This general reality – which we have no reason to deny – raises at least one crucial question for our purposes: What has this meant as regards the cultural milieu of cinemagoing within the locality of East Ham itself? To put it otherwise: in what way – if any at all – has this relative domination of the multiplex chain cinema affected the cinemagoing practices of the “cultural clusters” within the locality?

Below, we shall be examining in some detail the popular cultural practice of cinemagoing at Ilford’s multiplex Cineworld Cinema in particular – and which will certainly allow us to answer questions pertaining to the milieu of cinemagoing amongst the region’s various “cultural clusters” frequenting such a type of venue. It shall also allow us to more generally evaluate the extent to which the area’s traditional cinemagoing milieu has been affected by the presence of that multiplex cinema.

However, and at the same time, it is absolutely important to note that, at least as regards the case of East Ham, the struggle to survive on the part of “independent” cinemas would not in any way mean the complete marginalization of the Boleyn Cinema. In fact, East Ham’s Boleyn Cinema has come to constitute a significant exception to the general rule – it remains one of the few Asian-owned “independent” cinemas to have survived the onslaught of the multiplex chains in the Greater London area [to have survived, that is, right up to 2020 – thereafter, its closure belongs to a completely different set of historical circumstances, that of the coronavirus pandemic]. As to the survival of East Ham’s Boleyn Cinema, Krämer tells us that, by 2015, “Only two British cinemas with predominantly South Asian programming have survived [the competition with the multiplexes]: the Safari in Harrow and the Boleyn Cinema Upton Park (i.e. two cinemas in the Greater London area)” [my emph.]. Obviously, this points to the important historical significance of a cinema venue such as that of the Boleyn.

We may at this point refer to an interesting comment made by a local who seems to have been a rather regular patron of the Boleyn Cinema [cf. Google Reviews – all cinemagoers’ comments to be presented below have been retrieved from this source, unless stated otherwise; all references as to when the comment was made tell us that it had been recorded at some specific time-period prior to the end of 2020 – this shall apply to all comments retrieved from the Google Reviews]. The patron, by the name of Hasnath Kalam – and who is said to be writing three years ago – informs us that the venue is “One of the few remaining individual cinema [sic] in London as opposed to the corporate multiplexes where you do not get the personal touch from the staff”. Kalam’s comment on the Boleyn is accurate, in that it clearly distinguishes between, on the one hand, what he calls the “individual” cinema [which we have presented above as the “independent” type of cinema] and, on the other, the corporate multiplex cinema. Writing of “One of the few remaining” cinemas, he also seems to capture the sequel to the competition that has come to characterize the relationship between these two types of cinemas.

Kalam’s brief comment, however, goes a bit further – he tells us that the Boleyn Cinema offers its patrons a much more “personal touch” as opposed to the services of the multiplex type of cinema. This observation seems to more or less relate to the issue we have raised above – viz. the extent to which the ultimate dominance of a multiplex cinema such as that of Cineworld would have an impact on the traditional cinemagoing practices of locals. In our examination of the cinemagoing practices of the locality, we shall see that an “individual” or “independent” cinema such as the Boleyn would clearly reflect the needs of the community directly – the venue was of that community and its “cultural clusters”, it had grown therein and was organically tied to it. In what follows further below, we shall also have to investigate the extent to which even an “implant” as was the Cineworld Cinema would have to adjust to the cultural needs of the community it served, and do so given the very thrust of cultural practices expressive of “cultural clusters” defining the area.

There is one final – but sociologically important – issue pertaining to this apparently dichotomous manifestation of the world of cinemagoing in an area such as East Ham. This issue can be put as follows: has there been some relationship between the choice of cinema amongst locals – viz. that of the “independent” vis-à-vis that of the multiplex – based on the social stratum to which a local belongs? We shall present a few observations here, though we are fully aware that these shall have to remain rough generalizations.

Perhaps we should first begin by stating that this type of question runs the risk of oversimplifying reality: it would be rather rash to wish to identify some kind of an equation between a person’s socio-economic position and his/her choice of cinema hall. A person’s choice of venue, surely, may be determined by a myriad of both personal and non-personal [or “objective”] factors – choice, therefore, simply cannot be reduced to any one, single determining component.

And yet, Krämer’s study [op. cit.] does attempt to touch on this alleged relationship between a cinema audience’s socio-economic position in society and its choice of cinema. To the extent that there is some truth in such a relationship – and there must be – we shall need to briefly consider it. Krämer writes: “Cinema audiences for Indian mainstream films encompass a wide spectrum of social strata, with obvious differences between individual cinemas depending on their socio-demographic environment and their programming and pricing strategies”.

It must accepted that, at least based on the matter of cinema ticket pricing, one may draw a fairly distinct line between the upscale and the downscale type of cinema theatre, and which could mean that different income brackets would be attracted to each of these types respectively. Referring to different types of cinema venues in the UK, Krämer continues: “… an upscale multiplex cinema with correspondingly high ticket prices… which shows only the biggest and most successful Bollywood releases, naturally attracts a different sort of clients than a suburban Asian independent cinema…” And she goes on to tell us that tickets in the latter type of cinema may “cost only £6 for peak shows on the weekend and as little as £3 for some other shows”.

Now, this distinction between the upscale and downscale type of cinema may be said to apply to the case of Ilford’s Cineworld and to that of the Boleyn Cinema respectively – their corresponding ticket pricing does seem to verify Krämer’s observations. Below, we shall be undertaking a fairly detailed examination of the question of ticket pricing pertaining to these two cinemas. Here, we may briefly point to the differences between their respective ticket pricing and draw some general conclusions. Based on information provided by Ilford’s Cineworld website [cf. https://www.cineworld.co.uk], standard ticket prices for the multiplex cinema are as follows:

• Adults: £11.00

• Children: £5.00

• Students: £9.00

• Seniors: £9.00

• Families: £20.00

The Cineworld’s standard ticket pricing policy may be directly contrasted to that of the Boleyn Cinema’s. According to the latter’s website [cf. https://www.boleyncinemas.com] – and also based on a variety of patron commentary [cf. below] – ticket prices have been as follows:

• Adults: £5.00 or £6.00

• Children aged 0-2: free

• Children aged 3-9: half the adult price, therefore either £2.50 or £3.00

• Children aged 10 and above: full ticket price

• Bargain prices may be offered, or individual discounts can be made

• Generally speaking, ticket prices are not fixed

• Prices may also be determined by the particular movie shown – tickets can be more expensive than usual in the case of a big-budget Bollywood release; ticket prices for certain Telugu-language films have come to £10.00 or even £15 per adult.

Generally speaking, therefore – and despite certain exceptional occasions – one could say that the fairly stark difference in ticket pricing policy between these two cinemas is such as to attract different social strata to their respective venues. It may be said that the Cineworld Cinema would be more suitable for the better-off locals belonging to the middle- or upper-middle classes; while the Boleyn Cinema would be more suitable for the lower-income working classes. And thus one may further go on to suggest that the practice of cinemagoing in a region such as that of East Ham is impacted by what has classically been dubbed as “class stratification”. Of course, one objection that could be raised here is that drawing such a type of conclusion is simply pedantic – it assumes that it is abstract “income brackets” that flock to a cinema theatre and not real people whose choice of venue may be based on personal, extra-economic factors.

Assuming nonetheless that this quasi-Marxian position of “class stratification” with respect to the practice of cinemagoing does hold water, there yet remains an absolutely crucial question that calls for an answer: to what extent does such stratification – and the supposed “class consciousness” that goes with it – determine the cultural practices of the people that compose a community such as East Ham? In other words, one may go ahead and demonstrate that it is the reality of “economics” that is a more or less dominant factor in the life of a community – such as yet hypothetically dominant component, however, would not automatically suggest that it is at the same time determinant as regards cultural practices. And we say this because it is possible that yet another reality – that of ethnic history, ethnic experience and ethnic consciousness – may play a relatively more decisive role in determining the cultural milieu of, say, cinemagoing. The point here is that there is no general, abstract rule whereby one may decide as to which particular material or ideological reality is the ultimate determinant of any milieu [in fact, it would be some combination of realities that play such role]. In the absence of whatever abstract “laws” of history and society, we shall have to conclude that the only manner in which one can answer this question of determination is none other than through the examination of concrete empirical data – which is precisely what we intend to do below.

East Ham’s cinemas: three venues – some brief historical notes

To begin with, we should straight away clarify that we are not here suggesting that the vicinity of East Ham is – or has been – home to just three cinema theatres. Our purpose in this paper is to focus on certain venues that have historically catered to the needs of the area’s ethnic-based “cultural clusters”.

The address of the Boleyn Cinema is 7-11 Barking Road, East Ham, London, E6 1PW, UK. Google describes the venue as follows: “Asian cinema with three screens showing the latest Bollywood releases, some of which are subtitled” [it should be noted that by 2015, and following certain structural alterations, the cinema venue would only provide two screens]. According to The List [cf. https://www.film.list.co.uk], the Boleyn is a cinema “Specializing in Asian cinema, this is the second largest Bollywood screen in the UK” [with the largest perhaps being the Safari Cinema, op. cit.]. The Boleyn Cinema informs locals – as also non-locals, of course – of its latest releases through its website [cf. above] and by administering a Facebook Page. The local community does not, however, merely rely on these two formal on-line sources to inform itself of what film the cinema is screening – other, more informal methods of information are used, and which will be discussed in some detail below.

The general history of the Boleyn Cinema has been roughly recorded by Ken Roe, and which is available in Cinema Treasures [cf. https://www.cinematreasures.org/theatres/14651]. Although it is beyond our means – and definitely well beyond the purpose of this paper – to verify the information provided by Roe, we nonetheless present it here as it constitutes a highly fascinating story, and which is one important dimension of the history of East Ham itself.

Roe begins by informing us of the very early origins of the cinema: “Boleyn Cinema… 2 screens/1.334 seats… Located in the east London district of East Ham. Built on the site of the Boleyn Electric Theatre (1910) which was demolished to build this new Odeon Theatre for the Oscar Deutsch chain. It opened on 18th July 1938 with Max Miller in ‘Thank Evans’. It was designed in a sleek Art Deco style by noted cinema architect Andrew Mather, assisted by Keith P. Roberts and the original seating capacity was for 2.212; 1.418 in the stalls and 794 in the balcony.”

He continues by briefly covering a span of time stretching from the decade of the 1960’s and through to the early-1980’s: “During the mid-1960’s it underwent an ill-fated ‘modernization’ which removed most of the auditorium decoration. It continued as the Odeon, East Ham until it was closed by the Rank Organization on 31st October 1981 with Walt Disney’s ‘Sleeping Beauty’…” No explanation is provided as to why the cinema had to be closed down at the time. It is possible that its closure may be put down to the changing demographics of the area and the gradual demise of the native “cockney” element – unlike the latter, the up and coming ethnic-based “cultural clusters” would not have identified much with Hollywood movies. Such an explanation of the venue’s closure, however, does remain mere speculation – and it has to remain so given the absence of any hard empirical data.

Roe then proceeds to point to that lengthy period of time when the Odeon Cinema would remain abandoned and forsaken – and would do so until such time as the Bollywood phenomenon would re-emerge both in India and the UK [as has been discussed above]. For the locality of East Ham in particular, this re-emergence would mean the birth of the new, all-Asian Boleyn Cinema. Roe writes: “After laying [sic] boarded up and un-used for 14 years it was taken over by an independent operator who sub-divided the auditorium into three screens and it re-opened as the Boleyn Cinema in late-1995 screening Bollywood films. The main screen in the former balcony still has its original 794 seating capacity. The two screens located in the rear stalls area each have seating capacities of 270”. Roe’s information, therefore, fully confirms what we have observed thus far – viz. that the establishment of the new Boleyn Cinema of the 1990’s would directly coincide with the re-emergence of the dominant Bollywood genre both in India and ultimately within the UK itself. The period of time between the 1980’s and the 1990’s would mark a transition in the change of demographics in a locality such as East Ham; it would also mark the period of hibernation of the Bollywood phenomenon. The Asian-owned Boleyn Cinema would be established precisely when the Asian “cultural clusters” would mature and crystallize, as also when that period of a hibernating Indian cinema would come to an end.

As we shall further see below, the Boleyn Cinema would come to function as a centre for cultural affiliation and “bonding” of the locality’s “cultural clusters” – it would therefore also operate as a banquet hall for various social occasions. Roe informs us as follows: “It was closed in early-2014 to convert the former twin screens in the stalls into a banquet hall, and the former balcony has now been converted into two screens which opened early-2015”.

Finally, Roe notes that, by 2020, the Boleyn Cinema would cease to operate – he writes: “It was closed on March 16 2020 due to the Covid-19 Pandemic. It has been decided it will not re-open and planning permission has been approved to demolish and build flats and retail on the site”.

For twenty-five years, the Boleyn Cinema had been an organic part of the ethnic “cultural clusters” of East Ham – and the locals, as we shall see below, are very much aware of that. Writing two years ago, a local who signs his Google comment as Poorna Chandra Rao N., tells us that the Boleyn Cinema is a theatre of the “old iconic” type.

We may now briefly examine the case of Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema. Its address is Clements Road, Ilford, IG1 1BP, and is in the so-called I-Scene Leisure Complex. This location is about 3.3 mile’s distance from the Boleyn Cinema – one can get from the one cinema to the other in about ten minutes by car.

Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema was established by a London-based cinema company bearing the same brand name. According to Ken Roe [cf. Cinema Treasures, op. cit.], the Ilford theatre opened on 3rd May, 2002. The year of its opening is further confirmed by a number of comments made by patrons, one such being Jessen R, a cinemagoing local writing six years ago [cf. further below]. This multiplex cinema provided eleven screens and a total of 2.200 seats.

In comparison to that of the Boleyn, the history of the Cineworld Cinema is a completely different kettle of fish. The latter cinema cannot be said to be an organic outgrowth of the community – it had been “implanted” therein by a cinema chain for the sole purpose of tapping the local demand for movies, and especially for the Bollywood type of cinema [though not only]. As we shall clearly see below, however, such “implanted” cinema theatre would have to fully adjust to the popular culture of cinemagoing precisely as practiced by the ethnic locals of the community within which the venue had to operate – in fact, such adjustment was exactly what had to constitute a proper and successful tapping of the local market.

It goes without saying that any narration of the history of Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema cannot in any way be disentangled from the story of the powerful cinema chain that established it – and such story cannot itself be disentangled from the specific marketing strategies of that chain. We believe that one of the best sources of information on the cinema chain in question is that of Stuart Hanson’s Screening the World: Global Development of the Multiplex Cinema, Palgrave Macmillan, 2019.

In a chapter entitled, “The multiplex market begins to consolidate”, Hanson begins by providing us with some basic details regarding the establishment of the UK cinema chain that was to ultimately open Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema. He writes: “Cineworld was the brand name of Cine-UK, a start-up company formed in 1995 by Steve Wiener, the ex-managing director of Warner Bros Theatres (UK) and claimed to be Britain’s first new exhibitor in 40 years. Cine-UK was funded by a group of backers including J.P. Morgan and Rothschild Investment Trust, and the venture capital company Botts & Co which put up the £40 million to start the company, and its initial 14 sites” [p. 125].

The company had identified specific types of markets in the UK that it thought could be tapped, markets which had thus far been ignored. Without wishing to argue that the company’s establishment in 1995 was in direct response to the resurgence of Bollywood at that exact same period of time, it nonetheless does seem that the company was aware of new catchment areas in the localities of the UK. Hanson puts this as follows: “Weiner and Cine-UK felt that the opportunities for expansion in the British multiplex market were in what they identified as under-screened city centres and out-of-centre developments and smaller catchment areas, which had been hitherto ignored by the larger circuits…” [ibid.].

The company’s market prognostications proved right – Hanson writes of a “rapid expansion of Cineworld sites, which by the end of 2000 numbered 19 with 210 screens. Many of these were in town centre locations… and/or in edge-of-centre leisure parks near towns…” [p.126].

What is of crucial significance for our purposes is that the company’s catchment areas would ultimately also come to include localities with ethnic-based “cultural clusters”, the members of which wished to view [or, in fact, had an existential need for viewing] Bollywood movies. Importantly, Hanson explains: “One of the innovative aspects of Cine-UK’s approach, in part a result of some of its locations, was its programming of Hindi-language or ‘Bollywood’ films under standard profit-sharing distribution terms” [ibid., my emph.].

The company’s strategy of screening Bollywood films in some of its multiplex cinemas – and doing so in direct response to the needs of various “cultural clusters” within localities – would mean that it would soon come to capture a major share of the Bollywood market within the UK. Hanson notes as follows: “By 2007, Cine-UK had 55 per cent of [the] British market for Hindi-language films” [ibid.]. It has been suggested that its venture into the world of the Bollywood genre had also been successful given the clampdown on pirated Bollywood videos at the time.

The entrepreneurial venture into the world of Bollywood and the screening of Indian films in localities dominated by settlers would be undertaken cautiously and through a series of piloted programmes. It would only be after such programmes had been successfully tested in one of the company’s specially chosen sites that the company would finally embark on screening Bollywood movies in its multiplex venues located in places such as Ilford. According to Hanson: “The company had piloted the screenings [of Bollywood films] at its four-screen Feltham site in London before rolling them out to venues like Ilford, Luton, Bradford, and Wolverhampton” [ibid.].

Cine-UK’s construction and operation of Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema must therefore be placed within the general context as delineated by Hanson’s study. Built in 2002 – as mentioned above – the Cineworld Cinema was part and parcel of the company’s nationwide tapping of a “secondary market” as was the Bollywood market in the UK. Hanson writes: “Cine-UK… set in train an ambitious expansion, with 16 multiplexes proposed for 2001-02 and like their first tranche these were in what many analysts called ‘secondary markets’ – smaller towns and regional centres. In reality, Cine-UK had opened ten Cineworld multiplexes by the end of 2002 and a further three by the end of 2003, whereupon Cine-UK’s 32 multiplexes (357 screens) had made it the fourth largest cinema circuit in Britain” [ibid].

While the story of Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema cannot – as we have asserted – be disentangled from that of Cine-UK, the story of the latter can nonetheless be disengaged from that of the former. As a relatively successful company, Cine-UK would undergo a series of acquisitions and mergers that cannot concern us here. Merely for the sake of interest, we simply refer to a sample extract from Hanson’s study regarding the plight of Cine-UK – he writes: “Amidst much speculation about the future of the company as a target for consolidation, it was acquired by US private equity group Blackstone in September 2004, for approximately £120 million…” [ibid.]. The history of the company does not of course end in 2004, acquisitions and mergers being standard developments for many companies of the type that Cine-UK was. What is of major interest for our purposes may be put as follows: While the story of Ilford’s Cineworld cannot be disentangled from that of Cine-UK, developments taking place within the latter would in no way have any impact whatsoever on the manner in which Ilford’s Cineworld would operate as regards the cinemagoing practices and milieu of its ethnic audiences. The ethnic-based cultural practices of its patrons would remain intact and fully independent of what was happening within the headquarters of Cine-UK. Local audiences ruled the roost within the cinema hall, not managerial decisions on acquisitions and mergers. In this instance at least, we see ethnic-based cultural practices maintain their autonomy vis-à-vis the vicissitudes of big capital.

We may now move on to a brief presentation of a third cinema venue that had operated in the area of East Ham and its environs, that of the East Ham Granada Theatre. Unlike both the Boleyn and the Cineworld cinemas, the Granada Theatre cannot be said to have played any significant role – at least as regards the time-span of its engagement with Indian movie screenings – in the Bollywood movie-watching milieu that would come to constitute part of the cultural practices of the region. And yet, the East Ham Granada Theatre is of interest for a number of noteworthy reasons. To begin with, we may say that this venue had always constituted a hub of cultural practices expressive of the “cockney culture” in the area well prior to the influx of settler “cultural clusters”. Its operation is therefore of major interest for historical reasons. Secondly, however, its history allows us to see how the gradual dissipation of the “cockney” element would also be expressed through the demise of the theatre itself – it would be precisely such demise that would inevitably lead to the theatre’s experimental “flirtation” with the screening of Hindi-language films in the 1970’s [a period of time in which, and as mentioned above, the cultural needs of crystallizing ethnic “clusters” could also be somewhat met through the partial/ad hoc utilization of mainstream cinemas].

The address of what was once the Granada Cinema is 281 Barking Road, East Ham. In the period of its operation as a cinema hall, the venue provided roughly 2.400 seats [cf. https://www.stories-of-london.org/granada-theatre-east-ham].

Yet again, it is Ken Roe in Cinema Treasures [op. cit.] who provides us with some rough data outlining the story of the East Ham Granada Theatre. Its story goes back as far as the period of the 1910’s – Roe writes: “Located in the east London district of East Ham. Built on the site of the East Ham Empire of 1914 which became the Kinema in 1928, which was demolished to build this new Granada Theatre. It was going to be a new cinema for the Denman (London) circuit (part of Gaumont British) who had operated the Empire Kinema, but Granada Theatres were also interested in the site and a deal was struck for them to operate the new cinema which was designed by Gaumont’s house architect William E. Trent and the land was owned by Gaumont for many years”.

The official opening of the East Ham Granada Theatre was to take place in the 1930’s – Roe writes: “It was the fourth largest Granada Theatre to open and was fully equipped to stage shows as well as films. It opened on 30th November 1936 with Sydney Howard in ‘Fame’ and Al Jolson in ‘The Singing Kid’. Seating was provided in stalls and balcony and the interior decoration was by Granada Theatre’s interior designer Theodore Komisarjevsky”.

Roe goes on to suggest – somewhat indirectly but we believe accurately so – that the East Ham Granada Theatre would be in full operation [bar a short time-span during the war years] right up to the decade of the 1960’s. The cinema’s operation in the course of these years is in any case fully corroborated by further references that we shall be considering below. This is how Roe puts it: “It was closed by bomb damage on 29th July 1944 and remained closed for three months. The building was fully acquired by Granada in March 1965”. One may assume that if, as Roe notes, the cinema were to remain closed for these three months, it must have operated thereafter.

The actual demise of the theatre was to occur in the decade of the 1970’s – as Roe tells us: “From 9th June 1974 it went on limited opening hours by closing on Mondays and Tuesdays and final closure as a full time cinema came on 9th November 1974 with David Essex in ‘That’ll Be The Day’ and Marc Bolan in ‘Born to Boogie’…”

It is of some historical importance to note that the cinema’s demise would coincide chronologically with its fairly brief flirtation with the screening of Bollywood movies for Asian settlers. This may suggest that the Granada Theatre was trying to respond to a new socio-cultural reality emerging in the region – viz. the gradual dissipation of the “cockney” element and the concomitant rise of ethnic-based cultural practices. We cannot say for certain why the cinema would ultimately fail even as it attempted to serve the needs of Asian “cultural clusters” – we may very tentatively suggest that its failure may be put down to the competition it could have faced from the first emergence of the “specialist” Indian cinemas of that period [cf. above]. Roe’s brief notes do not of course attempt to investigate the causes of the theatre’s demise – he merely records its flirtation with Indian-language movies and events thereafter. This is what he tells us: “Occasional live shows were presented and Bollywood films were shown on Sundays for just over a year, until it was converted into a Granada Bingo Club from 16th January 1976. From May 1991 it operated as a Gala Bingo Club until closing on 15th November 2014. Plans were proposed to convert it into a banquet hall. In 2017 it was converted into a trampoline fitness centre named Flipout”.

But this building is of even greater historical significance aside from its final fate, and the possible reasons explaining such fate. It is one of the many structures located within the neighbourhoods of East Ham that silently secrete the cultural milieu of the area prior to the dissipation of the “cockney” element and therefore prior to the area’s invasion by “cultural clusters” that were to “colonize” it through settlement [this is not meant to be either judgmental of such developments or at all nostalgic of the past]. In a nutshell, the East Ham Granada Theatre of the 1950’s and 1960’s was a hub of an English “cockney” culture and of that culture’s natural articulation with a wider “Western” culture – and this would stand in clear contradistinction to the ethnic-based cultural practices that would gradually come to prevail, especially by the 1990’s [cf. Paper 2b with respect to the 1990’s “New Labour” ideology upholding the virtues of both globalization and global migration].

It is obviously well outside the purposes of this paper to examine the cultural practices that had once materialized within the walls of the Granada Theatre in the period of the 1950’s and 1960’s – we shall here merely present a few samples. Writing in Cinema Treasures [01.15.2018], someone who presents himself as Paullm notes as follows: “I was born in Plaistow and raised in East Ham. I now live in Dallas, Texas. I have so many special memories of the East Ham Granada. Sometime in the early-mid 60’s, I saw Dusty Springfield, Big Dee Irwin, Freddie and The Dreamers and several other big-name artists (who I cannot remember) there”. We may briefly remind ourselves here that Dusty Springfield was an English pop singer and an icon of the “Swinging Sixties”; Big Dee Irwin was an American pop singer; and Freddie and The Dreamers were an English beat band hailing from Manchester.

Paullm continues: “We used to go round the back to Winter Avenue to watch the stars leave by the back entrance. That row of (now boarded up) upstairs dressing rooms has seen many famous artists and groups get ready for their performances… Other than the Beatles, I know Stevie Wonder had also performed there”. Of course, neither the famous band hailing from Liverpool nor Motown’s Stevie Wonder need any introduction.

Finally, Paullm adds: “Buddy Holly and The Crickets did two shows there on March 13, 1958. Also, on the bill that night… Lonnie Donegan!” Buddy Holly, of course, was the American singer-songwriter who pioneered mid-1950’s rock and roll music with his band, The Crickets. Donegan was a British Skiffle singer, very popular in the decade of the 1960’s.

Ken Roe himself also provides us with some information regarding the erstwhile cultural practices that had taken place in the East Ham Granada Theatre prior to the dissipation of the “cockney” milieu – he writes: “On a musical note, the Granada Theatre was equipped with a ‘190 Granada Special’ Wurlitzer 3Manual/8 Rank theatre organ with Grand Piano which was opened by Donald Thorne. The Beatles appeared twice at the Granada Theatre in March and November 1963” [cf. Cinema Treasures, 04.12.2005].

We do not intend to make any further references to the East Ham Granada Theatre below – for our purposes, its story is over and done with and would in no way help us understand the ethnic-based cinemagoing practices of the region, especially in the period of the 1990’s and thereafter. We shall have to focus our study on the Boleyn and Cineworld cinemas, examining the different aspects of their operation and drawing relevant conclusions on the phenomenon of Bollywood in the UK.

The Boleyn Cinema: some notes on its location

Barking Road, where the Boleyn Cinema is situated, is within the East Ham Central ward of the region. According to https://www.crystalroof.co.uk, the crime rate in this area of East Ham is the eleventh highest when compared to 33 other London boroughs. Alternatively, and based on the same source, one may say that the area’s crime rate is higher than in 90 percent of local areas in London – crime types include what is usually dubbed as “anti-social behaviour”, violence and sexual offences. Drug-related crimes have also been recorded.

According to https://www.streetscan.co.uk, “In 2019, 755 crimes were reported near Barking Road. Only 4% of streets in the UK are more dangerous. This street can be considered dangerous. The most common type of crime was anti-social behaviour. Crime rate was measured within a 0.5 mile radius of E6 1PW” [this being the Boleyn Cinema’s postcode, cf. above].

Taking a sample month of 2020, https://www.streetcheck.co.uk informs us of the number of crimes committed near Barking Road, East Ham within that short period of time – it makes the following observation: “We have found 398 crimes in December 2020 within half a mile of the centre of E6 1PW”.

Such statistical data paint a rather grim picture of a neighbourhood that has been home to a popular cinema hall frequented by locals on a daily basis. Statistics, however, only provide us with a bird’s eye view of what happens in the area. Locals are aware of the possible dangers around particular spots or know when they should be keeping off the streets – they obviously know how to protect themselves. They do not seem to “live” that type of reality provided by whatever statistical data. Thus, a local by the name of Nadeem Abbas, writing a year ago, can speak as follows of the Boleyn Cinema and the neighbourhood around it: “A good cinema at Barking Road… Nice view and approachable place day and night”. It is possible that non-locals who have visited the cinema might not feel the exact same way – but, then, they would be “outsiders” looking in.

The types of movies usually screened at the Boleyn Cinema

Simply so that we may have some idea of the types of Bollywood movies that the Boleyn Cinema has been screening, we may begin by citing a couple of random examples [we shall here ignore both their diegetic approach and their ideological discourse – this type of analysis shall be undertaken further below]. For instance, the cinema theatre would be showing the film titled “Jersey” [directed by Gowtham Tinnanuri] in 2019 – this is an Indian Telugu-language sports drama, also dubbed in the Tamil language. That same year, the cinema would be screening the film titled “Kalank” [directed by Abhishek Varman], an Indian Hindi-language drama set during the partition of India in the 1940’s. As we shall see, the Boleyn Cinema would, throughout its operation, be screening movies of the various language families of the Indian subcontinent – we shall present examples of these based on Google comments made by the cinema’s patrons.

Writing four years ago, a patron by the name of Sijo Jacob, tells us the following about the Boleyn Cinema and its screenings: “Just a rusty old cinema. However, if you want to watch Malayalam, Telugu or Tamil movies then this is one of the few places in London where they are screened”. Jacob’s reference to “one of the few places”, by the way, confirms what we have noted above – viz. that the Boleyn Cinema, in its capacity as a “specialized” South Asian screen, remained one of the few exceptions that would survive the pressure from the multiplexes [cf. above, and especially Krämer’s observations on the dwindling number of “specialist” cinemas].

Vishwa Teja Alampur, writing three years ago, has this to say about the Boleyn Cinema: “One and only place for desi movies”. The term “desi” is said to refer to someone who is a native of a “desh”, the latter meaning “country” or “homeland” in Indo-Aryan languages. “Desi” is usually used to designate a person of Indian, Pakistani or Bangladeshi descent living abroad. Alampur is of course exaggerating when he says that the Boleyn Cinema is the “one and only” venue for “desi movies” – yet still, his words do somewhat echo those of Sijo Jacob.

We may now refer to a number of patron comments, this time all recorded exactly two years ago, which further give us an idea of the type of movies that the Boleyn Cinema has been screening – we read as follows:

• Patron Sudhanshu D.: “Mainly Indian movies shown here”. We cannot say whether Sudhanshu is here referring to Hindi-language films in particular, as opposed to the other sub-type Asian films discussed above. This type of problem is evident in quite a number of patron comments recorded in Google.

• Patron Shahbaz Raja: “… they just show Indian movies no any English”.

• Patron Narayana Murthy Pemmaraju: “… it is the only place in this area where Telugu cinemas are screened”.

• Patron Poorna Chandra Rao N.: “Went to Telugu movie…”

The following is a list of patron comments recorded exactly one year ago:

• Patron Kiran Edem: “I wish there was a better option [viz. as regards choice of cinema hall] to view Telugu movies”. Edem’s comment seems to suggest that the Boleyn Cinema is the one and only venue in the area screening Telugu-language films. The comment echoes that of Pemmaraju above.

• Patron Waris Ali: The Boleyn Cinema offers “A cheaper entertainment of the global variety films”. By the term “global”, Ali is obviously referring to Bollywood movies. His choice of term is interesting, in that it begs the question as to whether or not the Bollywood phenomenon is a symptom of “media globalization”.

• Patron Raghu Veer: “Most of the time Indian movies play here…” This comment raises the same type of question as in the case of patron Sudhanshu above.

• Patron Ajay Reddy: “One of the few Indian cinema theatres”.

• Patron Sash Fernando: “Plays pretty much all Bollywood and Tollywood and only last for few days or a week, so quick early watch is recommended”.

The following comment was made nine months ago by a patron who identifies himself as Srinevas VoilA – he writes as follows: “The appreciable aspect is that it plays movies in foreign tongues that are hard to get by for international Londoners”. Of course, when VoilA writes of “foreign tongues”, he is referring to the Indic languages; the term “international Londoners” refers to Asians residing in London.

Finally, a patron by the name of Printo Tom makes the following comment seven months ago: “All Malayalam cinemas are played here. If you want to watch mally cinemas [viz. Malayalam or Mollywood films] visit Boleyn in East Ham”.

Patron sentiments on the types of movies screened at the Boleyn Cinema

East Ham’s Boleyn Cinema projected films that were characteristic of a very specific South Asian “discursive complex” [as Krämer has put it]. As we shall further go on to see, these types of films were expressive of the cultural milieu and cultural practices of an area with a large Asian population – locals viewing such movies would therefore feel a certain emotional attachment to the diegetic and/or general ideo-cultural approach portrayed in such films. In this section, we shall continue examining the types of movies that have been screened at the Boleyn Cinema – this time, however, we shall also be focusing on the sentiments of patrons with respect to the movies they had watched.

A patron by the name of Sunil Dhiman, writing four years ago, expresses sentiments of “love” with respect to all Indian movies screened at the Boleyn Cinema, so long as such movies were what he perceives to be “good” in quality – he writes that the venue is “Good for Indian movie lovers in budget” [the reference here is to the cinema’s relatively cheap ticket price – cf. above]. And he continues: “But I love it because almost all good Indian movies come here”.

We may now present a list of comments written exactly three years ago, and all of which express patron sentiments on movies screened at the Boleyn Cinema:

• Patron Harnessh G.: The Boleyn Cinema is a “No nonsense place for South Indian flix [sic] you cannot catch elsewhere”.

• Patron Gnans S.: “Good place if you want to see regional films which are not shown elsewhere”.

• A patron who signs his comment as Jerry Fernandez expresses a special preference for what he calls “local language movies”, and which are the various types or sub-types of the Bollywood genre. He explains why or when he would choose to visit the “specialized” Boleyn Cinema as follows: “I only go there for the local language movies if it’s [sic] not playing elsewhere…”

• Patron Mandadapu Malleswara Rao’s preferences echo those of Jerry Fernandez and others – he writes of the Boleyn Cinema as follows: “Good; we can watch south Indian movies here only”.

• Patron Hasnath Kalam, who has written a number of comments on the Boleyn Cinema, tells us that the venue is “The best place to watch Bollywood movies”.

• Patron Niranjan Kumar informs us of the popularity the Boleyn Cinema amongst locals, despite the venue’s service shortcomings – he writes: “Basic facilities [are provided by the cinema hall] and popular for Indian movies… just for watching and don’t expect any great experience in any aspects” [we shall dwell on the cinema’s operation, as also on the quality of service provided by the theatre, further below].

• Patron Balram Trivedi harbours sentiments of nostalgia for the Boleyn Cinema, having been a frequenter of the venue since childhood years – he writes: “So many good childhood memories back in this place. Definitely a good choice for watching Indian/Bollywood movies”.

The following patron comments – again expressing direct or indirect sentiments about the Boleyn Cinema and the movies it has been screening – were recorded exactly one year ago:

• Patron Lukose Alex tells us that the cinema is “Home for Bollywood and South Indian films”. One may assume that the use of the word “home” expresses a certain sentiment regarding the venue.

• Patron Arpan Upadhayay tells us that the Boleyn Cinema is the venue that screens the latest of Indian movies in his area, and so urges locals to visit the theatre – he writes, inter alia: “All popular Bollywood and Tollywood are premiered here… So what u waiting for… Book the tickets now…”

• Patron Ajay Muthureddy expresses his gratitude that the cinema screens Indian movies – after complaining about the mediocre service of the theatre, he writes: “But thanks to the management for bringing new regional movies and running shows without fail”.

• Patron Haji K. feels that the Boleyn is a “Really nice cinema” as it screens the “Latest Bollywood movies!”

• Patron Pasupathi M. writes: “Best thing about Boleyn is you wouldn’t miss any Indian movies particularly South Indian movies”.

• Patron Suresh Paluri expresses the feeling that the Boleyn Cinema is a “Good place to watch Indian movies”.

• Patron Satyavada Raviteja similarly notes: “Good one for Indian movies”.

• And finally patron Dhanarajan Ramalingam writes: “Good place to catch up on South Indian movies”.

The exact same types of sentiments have been expressed by Perumal Thiruchelvam, a local patron writing eleven months ago – he simply tells us that the Boleyn Cinema is “good for regional Indian cinemas”. Also writing eleven months ago, a patron by the name of Jonathan Old tells us that “they screen good Bollywood films”.

We may lastly refer to a comment written nine months ago by local patron Jaimin Soni – it states that visiting the Boleyn Cinema allows people to “Experience the Hindi cinema”.

The Boleyn Cinema and its “Indian atmosphere”

The ethnic-based cultural practices of East Ham’s “cultural clusters” are usually such as to reproduce the cultural practices and the “atmosphere” of these clusters’ original homeland – this culturally reproductive process has also applied to the case of the Boleyn Cinema. The cinema’s patrons have always appreciated the “atmosphere of India” prevailing within the walls of the cinema halls [viz. Boleyn’s three and, later, two screens]. More accurately, they have appreciated precisely that which they have been creating for themselves as cinemagoers therein – viz. a “Little India”, and which is itself accurately reflective of the locality of East Ham as a whole. We may here present three sample comments recorded by patrons of the Boleyn Cinema pointing to the “Indian atmosphere” that has characterized the theatre generally:

A patron of the Boleyn Cinema by the name of Azad Kumar had this to say about the cinema halls three years ago: “The atmosphere resembles Indian theatres in towns”.

Melhi Yabesh, writing two years ago, tells us how much he “loved” the particular “ambience” of the Boleyn cinema – he states: “With all latest Bollywood Kollywood every week this theatre gives you the ambience of being in a[n] Indian Theatre. Loved it”.

Patron Meera Venkatachalam, writing eleven months ago, describes her cinemagoing experience at the Boleyn Cinema as follows: “It’s an experience watching a movie in [a] local theatre in India where actually you are in London”. This comment in particular conflates the experience of cinemagoing in India with that of cinemagoing in East Ham.

The Boleyn Cinema and its “homely” or “personal” atmosphere

The patrons of the Boleyn Cinema often refer to the “homely” or “personal touch” of its cinema hall. This is explainable in terms of two basic factors that have characterized the theatre: firstly, and as mentioned in the section above, such “touch” is due to the prevailing “Indianness” of its atmosphere; secondly, and as has been discussed in examining the relationship between Asian-owned cinemas and those belonging to movie theatre chains, the Boleyn Cinema has been able to preserve a special type of “homeliness” given its “independent” status, something that has always allowed it to be organically tied to the community within which it has been rooted [such “homeliness”, in other words, has not been a product of a mere “adjustment” to the needs of the community, as has been the case of an “implanted” venue such as that of the Cineworld Cinema – cf. above].

We present here a number of sample comments made by patrons which point to such “homely” or “personal” atmosphere within the Boleyn venue:

A patron by the name of Kavitha R. wrote a review of the Boleyn Cinema in December 2015 [cf. http://tripadvisor.com.au], apparently at a time when the venue had had its facilities newly refurbished [an event that will be further discussed below]. Kavitha describes the Boleyn cinema hall as “cosy”, and one might wish to argue that such a description was due to the place’s recent refurbishment. And yet, Kavitha’s review does wish to relate the “cosy” atmosphere of the theatre to its “independence” – in that way, the patron wishes to indirectly contrast a cinema such as the Boleyn to chain cinemas such as Cineworld. This is how she puts it: “Very cosy cinema with the old Independent Cinema feel”. This statement seems to fully confirm [albeit with certain important caveats, as regards the “adjustive” practices of the Cineworld Cinema itself] what we have been observing thus far as regards the relationship between “specialized” Asian-owned cinemas and those owned by chains such as Cine-UK. It had been that “old”, local-grown ambience – and which carried with it a certain history – that would somewhat distinguish the Boleyn venue from whichever cinema chains.

Kavitha’s observation is of course very much reminiscent of that of Hasnath Kalam’s, which we have already quoted above. As we have seen, the latter patron had himself commented that the Boleyn Cinema, precisely because it is an “individual” [in the sense of an “independent”] theatre – and in contrast to the non-independent “corporate multiplexes” – offers its patron’s “the personal touch”.

Similarly, a patron by the name of Sruthi Patiballa, writing three years ago, has this to say of the Boleyn Cinema: “This is a small theatre, it’s more like a personal theatre”.

Given the fact that the Boleyn Cinema has been a somewhat “personal theatre”, the choice of movies it would decide to screen could in many cases be directly dependent on the needs and wishes of some of its more regular patrons at a particular point in time. Thus, patron Meera Venkatachalam writes: “Funny theatre where nice to watch a movie with only 5 members!!! Plays shows on our convenience and our choice…!!!” [my emph. – the reference to the number of patrons said to be present in the theatre on that particular occasion may be considered to be an exceptional case, as we shall further see below]. Pandering to the needs of a group of Boleyn patrons for the screening of a particular movie could of course lead to objections on the part of others constituting the theatre’s cinemagoers – there is no reason to assume that needs and wishes would always be uniform. This is perhaps why one patron by the name of Sai Krishna Basetti, writing nine months ago, would complain as follows: “Worst experience… they changes [sic] the shows as per their wish”. Ironically, it seems that the Boleyn Cinema’s “homely” atmosphere could have led to the type of squabbles one would encounter within whatever “family”.

The Boleyn Cinema’s audiences: families, their children, and friends

The “Indianness” and “homeliness” of the cinema’s atmosphere have gone hand in hand with a specific type of audience that has frequented the theatre – the single most important feature of such audience has been the Indian family unit – and usually the Indian extended family. It is also absolutely important to observe that the Boleyn Cinema has likewise been frequented by the children of Indian families, whatever be the age of such children and, usually, independently of what type of movie was to be screened. Also accompanying families have been the friends and/or acquaintances of families. While there may of course be exceptions to such type of audience, the prevalence of the family unit within the Boleyn Cinema hall is beyond doubt – as we shall see further below, most or even all researchers on the question of Asian cinemagoing in the UK would fully confirm this reality.

Of course, the predominance of the Indian family within the Boleyn Cinema’s audiences is a natural upshot of the fact that the family unit – and usually in its extended form – is a salient feature of East Ham’s “cultural clusters”, and which is the case for all ethnic-based “cultural clusters” that have come to settle in the various localities of the UK. The literature around this phenomenon is near endless – we may refer here to just two sources: [i] Roger Ballard, “South Asian Families”, in Rapoport, Fogarty and Rapoport (eds.), Families in Britain, London, Routledge and Keegan Paul, 1982; and [ii] the well-known and oft-mentioned study by Richard Berthoud, “Family formation in multicultural Britain: diversity and change”, in G.C. Loury, T. Modood and S.M. Teles (eds.), Ethnicity, Social Mobility, and Public Policy: Comparing the USA and UK, Cambridge University Press, 2005. Referring to an earlier version of Berthoud’s research work, Gary Young would write an article for The Guardian, [18.12. 2000] tellingly entitled as follows: “Asians fly the flag for traditional family life”.

We present here a few selected samples indicating the predominant presence of the Indian family within the audiences of the Boleyn Cinema:

Writing four years ago, a patron by the name of Awais Ajmal tells us the following regarding the Boleyn Cinema: “Alright place if you want to watch a Bollywood movie with your family at a very affordable price”.

Even more lucid is a comment made by patron Sudeer Sainulabdeen three years ago – he writes as follows [we may ignore the rather problematic use of the English language here, which in any case makes crystal-clear sense]: “Good to go with family n small kids… in other part of London if children cries they will tell you to go out… in this theatre they are not tell you to go out”. We have come across numerous Boleyn Cinema patrons who similarly testify to the fact that, unlike other cinemas in the London area, the Boleyn staff would allow children to be part of the audience, rarely if ever intervening in cases of behaviour that could disturb others in the cinema hall. On the other hand, and as we shall see, the Cineworld Cinema follows the exact same type of policy when screening Bollywood movies in its theatres.

We may also refer here to a comment made by Arpan Upadhayay, who writes that the Boleyn Cinema is “Good to watch movies and enjoy with family and friends”.

The Boleyn Cinema – a venue primarily for the locals of the East Ham region

That the Boleyn Cinema mainly attracts families with their children, as also family friends and acquaintances, simply points to the fact that the venue is a cultural hub for the locals of the region of East Ham and its environs.

To confirm the obvious, we present just two representative sample comments. Patron Madhavo Rao, writing three years ago, describes the Boleyn Cinema as a “Local area theatre”. And writing two years ago, patron Shabi Kose tells us that the Boleyn is a “Good Indian type cinema convenient for locals”.

The Boleyn Cinema as a venue for social events

As an “Indian type cinema” historically rooted in the “cultural clusters” of its community, the venue of the Boleyn Cinema has also functioned as a hub for the community’s various social events. We have already noted that, and according to Ken Roe [op. cit.], it would be in early-2014/early-2015 that the cinema’s twin screens in the stalls would be converted into a banquet hall – members of the community could henceforth hire the hall so as to hold mainly familial social events at a certain price [such events, however, would not only be family-based]. The Boleyn Cinema had therefore diversified its function as a venue beyond that of a cinema proper, something which – one may suppose – could never have applied to a chain cinema such as Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema.

In December 2015, patron Kavitha R. would note the following with respect to social events held at the Boleyn Cinema: “Group Discounts for Birthday Parties and large Association[s] at cheaper prices”. By the term “associations”, Kavitha may be referring, inter alia, to Asian entrepreneurial enterprises and their holding of work-related social events – this, however, cannot be confirmed.

A patron by the name of Christian Ebere Duru, writing three years ago, tells us that the Boleyn venue is “Good for organizing crusades”. It is possible that Duru may be referring to crusades of a religious nature [again, it is difficult to confirm this].

Patron Ray Vibes [this name most probably being a bogus moniker] gives us the following useful information as recorded two years ago – he writes of the Boleyn venue as follows: “This great place has got a wonderful hall for hire where you can use it for any event of your choice. I went there basically to attend my sister’s wedding ceremony and I tell you, it was great being there”. Also commenting two years ago, patron Pandya Bhavin tells us that the hall is a “Good place for wedding but not stunning”.

A patron who identifies himself/herself simply as “A”, and writing one year ago, tells us that the Boleyn hall is a “Decent wedding venue”. Finally, someone by the presumed name of Sian Bailey, and also writing one year ago, comments as follows: “I went here [to the Boleyn venue] for an event. The place is massive, very spacious. The toilets were incredibly small considering the size of the venue. Nice layout. The only thing that spoiled it for me was the nonexistent use of the air conditioning, compare [sic] to the amount of people who attended, very disappointing”.

The Boleyn Cinema – some general observations on the number of patrons it has usually attracted

Patron Shantan Devathi, writing three years ago, complains that the Boleyn Cinema is usually overcrowded. He tells us, inter alia, that the cinema’s theatres are inundated with “lots of crowds”.

Writing two years ago, a patron who identifies himself as Navaratn Bharti tells us that on the particular occasion when he visited the Boleyn its cinema halls were “less crowded”. The implication here seems to be that the cinema would be usually crowded.

Someone by the name of Norman Smith, who does not appear to be a Boleyn regular, nonetheless made the observation – one year ago – that the cinema attracts “Too much people”. In contrast, patron Anwar Faruqh, who visited the Boleyn Cinema eleven months ago, found the venue “Great but not so busy”.

The number of people that the Boleyn Cinema has usually attracted may be said to vary, depending on the occasion [or, most probably, depending on the movie that was being screened]. Generally speaking, however, one may say that its theatre halls have been rather packed.

The Boleyn Cinema – the condition of its premises and the quality of its operation

The locals’ positive disposition towards the Boleyn Cinema [its “homely” atmosphere, etc.] does not mean that many patrons would shy away from expressing particular complaints about the condition of Boleyn’s premises and the quality of its service. On the other hand, it is most probably true to say that the majority of patrons have either ignored or tolerated aspects of the cinema’s premises that may be said to be “objectively” problematic [and we may assume that, given the number of locals it has attracted through the years]. Generally speaking, we shall choose to concentrate our study on those who happen to be more vocal as regards the negative features of the cinema – it is such category of patrons that would allow us to attain a more realistic picture of the venue. We shall not of course disregard positive commentary.

Patron Kandimalla Chandrasekhar, writing six years ago, tells us of the great amount of money he had to spend so as to watch a Telugu film [cf. above, with respect to the special ticket prices applying to Telugu-language films] – and yet, he explains, when you pay that sum of money, “you except [viz. expect] at least [the cinema to be] clean, but this one has a lot of rubbish and dead rats coupled with broken chairs”.

Writing four years ago, a person who identifies himself as Chalapati Rao BV [and who does not appear to have been a Boleyn regular] writes as follows: “The worst cinema I have ever been to. The seats are horrible to sit in and very poorly managed as well. The direction of seating is not aligned to the screen and you never sit in the seat still. It is like a slide and you keep going down. My knees were aching so badly by the end of the cinema [viz. towards the end of the movie] and I would never like to go there again”.

The following comments were made three years ago:

• A non-regular patron signing as Kamran Na provides us with a very general, albeit rather negative, picture of the premises – he writes: “Don’t go there often. I believe the[y] have a hall they hire don’t sits [most probably means without seating] and a cinema upstairs. Been to the cinema 10 years ago when there was no A/C and never again”.

• Patron Madhavo Rao gives us a more positive picture of the premises, though also alludes to the question of viewing angle in at least one of the Boleyn’s cinema halls – he writes as follows: “Well maintained screen. Getting your seat backside left screen facing is good view”.

• Hasnath Kalam makes the following observations regarding, inter alia, the type of snacks served in the cinema, as also regarding seating arrangements [which seem to contradict some patron comments recorded above]: “Boleyn Cinema does not have stair free access [this point is not too clear] and there are no restaurants in the building. Hot and cold drinks along with cinema essentials like popcorn and crisps and chocolate are served here. Washroom is clean and the seating arrangements at the cinema is [sic] comfortable”. Kalam also provides people with practical information on how to get to the cinema – he writes: “Parking is available behind the theatre building and if you are travelling by public transport, you will be served by bus route 104, 58, 5, 115 and 147 to get there”.

• Patron Krishnan Valsan paints a rather shabby picture of the Boleyn – as he writes: “It was looking untidy old and damp, some seats were broken”.

• Critical observations made by Shantan Devathi are of special interest as they prompt the owner-manager of the Boleyn Cinema to respond directly. Devathi, whom we have quoted above as saying that the cinema is usually overcrowded, adds the following complaints: “… The ticketing is abysmal, poor hall management, very small screens…” The owner-manager’s response goes as follows [the language is a bit problematic, though intelligible throughout]: “Thank you very much for your valuable comment, as far as we know cinema is not for a few, our screen size is 13m width which is bigger than more UK cinemas screens. As u mentioned in your comment we had lots of crowd, if your state (abysmall, poor management, very small screen) is correct, we wouldn’t had that much precious customers”. One may interpret this response in more ways than one – yet still, it does confirm our suggestion that most Boleyn patrons would either ignore or tolerate the condition of the premises, a presumption based on the sheer volume of the cinema’s “precious customers” [at least according to the owner-manager of the Boleyn venue].

The next set of patron comments were recorded two years ago:

• Patron Sudhanshu D. gives us a brief and general description of the cinema, pointing to the old, “grand” style of the premises – he writes: “Didn’t realize this was a cinema. From outside, it shows a banquet hall board which is confusing. It’s a[n] old style cinema with grand stairs leading to first floor”. This picture of the cinema is confirmed by Poorna Chandra Rao N., who – as we have seen in our historical notes on the Boleyn Cinema – referred to the venue as an “old iconic” theatre. For the sake of interest, we may note that Sudhanshu also comments on the type of snacks served in the cinema – he informs us that “Food options are not much. Standard popcorn and drinks served to audience…”

• Patron Narayana Murthy Pemmaraju further provides us with a brief, general description of the Boleyn Cinema, pointing to some of the changes it has undergone through the years, as also to certain problematic features of its premises – this is what he has to say: “It was previously a very big cinema hall in East Ham playing Hindi and other South Indian movies. A few years back this was split into two halls. So the screen appears acentric facing one side. Sound system is horrible”. What appears to be a problematic sound system is also confirmed by Poorna Chandra Rao N., who tells us that the “sound quality need[s] latest technology” [such observations on the Boleyn’s sound system do not necessarily concur with those of other patrons].

• Comments made by patron Janaki Chitta are of special interest for at least two reasons. First and foremost, they represent precisely that type of patron who shall remain absolutely loyal to a particular cinema despite the serious objections he/she might have as regards the condition of its premises and the its quality of service. Secondly, Chitta ventures to contrast the prevailing conditions of her local cinema to those of other cinema venues in the UK [as we shall see further below, some patrons measure the quality of service at the Boleyn up against that of what they call “the British standard”]. This is what Janaki Chitta has to say: “To the owners of this theatre [:] the movie ticket price is not cheap. The only thing we ask for is decent sound system and basic things that now a days [sic] even remote villages have like seat numbering, screen actually being in the centre. Charge more if needed we will still come but shame on you” [my emph.].

The following set of patron comments were made exactly one year ago:

• Patron Feruz Ali very simply describes the Boleyn as “A very old cinema”.

• Patron Raghu Veer informs us that “the sound quality is amazing”. It is possible that the Boleyn Cinema had had its sound system improved following a general revamping of the premises [cf. below], and which would allow Veer to make the observation that he does. On the other hand, the patron goes on to raise the issue of seat numbering, as had Janaki Chitta two years ago – he writes: “Better they should start numbering for seats”.

• Patron Taraka Prabhu also writes, inter alia, of a well-functioning sound system: “Small, compact theatres with decent sound system”.

• Patron Satyavada Raviteja notes the following: “Seating is ok not 100% comfortable with screen orientation. But quality is fine”.

• Patron Sash Fernando wishes to emphasize that the Boleyn Cinema – being what he describes as a “proper” hub for people of Asian origins [a “desi” venue, cf. above] – does not frustrate patrons with long sessions projecting commercials prior to the screening of the movie itself, as do theatres belonging to cinema chains. He writes: “This is a proper desi cinema. Very fast turn around times, so the films start on time, not like the other chains, where there are 30 mins of advertizing to go through”. Of course, not all patrons would agree that films screened at the Boleyn Cinema would always commence on time – that, however, would be more the result of inefficient operation than due to the amount of time devoted to commercials.

• Patrons writing one year ago, and as quoted thus far, all seem to find at least some positive features either in the premises of the Boleyn Cinema or as regards its operation [alternatively, as in the case of Feruz Ali, they can maintain a neutral stance]. In contrast, a non-regular patron by the name of Thalha Choudhury is scathingly critical of the condition of the cinema [even to the extent that, in his case, there remains no sign of at least some grudging loyalty towards it]. Having visited the theatre so as to watch a particular Hindi movie that was not being screened elsewhere, he writes: “Very disappointed with dirty cloth seats. It’s run down and neglected. It’s worth paying little more somewhere else for a better experience”.

• Without necessarily revoking patron loyalty and attachment to the cinema, quite a number of Boleyn customers insist on expressing a fairly trenchant criticism with respect to the condition and operation of the premises. Pasupathi M., who has been a Boleyn Cinema regular and much appreciative of the fact that the theatre has always been screening South Indian movies, would nonetheless agree with Choudhury that seating can be rather problematic – he tells us that “Seats are quite uncomfortable for sitting though”.

• Patron Ravi Goriparthi can be as critical – he writes: “Wish they would clean the theatre between shows”.

• Similarly, patron Edrees Yasini observes that “Staff were rude and cinema was stinky”.

• We have noted above how a patron such as Sash Fernando would be supportive of the Boleyn Cinema given its “proper desi” nature, something which would certainly complement the theatre’s “homely” atmosphere. And yet, it is Fernando himself who points to the limits of such “homelike” attributes as regards the theatre – he advises potential customers as follows: “Can’t take your own food, they will check your bags, so hide well if you do want [to] take food in from outside…”

• The following sample comment, also recorded a year ago, was made by patron Ajay Muthureddy – it seems to more or less summarize the overall condition and operation of the Boleyn premises, and reads as follows: “When you don’t have better option, you deal with the one available. This one is neither bad nor anything to mention specially about”. Like so many other Boleyn patrons, nonetheless, Muthureddy is certainly thankful that the Boleyn Cinema has always been there to unfailingly screen “regional movies”.

We shall complete this survey of patron comments on the premises of the Boleyn Cinema by presenting the following samples made a number of months ago:

• A patron who identifies himself as Anushan made the following comment eleven months ago – he writes that the Boleyn Cinema is a “Good place to watch movie[s]. But need a improvement [sic] inside”.

• Also writing eleven months ago, a patron by the name of Dhilip Kumar gives us a fairly detailed picture of the Boleyn Cinema’s premises and operation – we read as follows: “Show didn’t start on time, much more delay with the actual time mentioned [contrast to the Sash Fernando comment above]. No seat booking available, so you have to beat the queue for getting a good seat. Also they are making us to stand out until they’re ready with the show. Coming to the quality inside, screen is much smaller and seating not really comfortable for the screen view. And the surrounding sound is not up to the mark. Overall it’s an average kind of cinema with no advanced features equipped”.

• Writing ten months ago, patron Tareq Hoque simply tells us that “It was cold”.

• A patron by the name of Vivak Subramaniam Paneerselvam, writing nine months ago, gives us the following information on the Boleyn cinema: “Till 4th seat proper view of the screen. Sound and picture quality is good”.

• Patron Sai Krishna Basetti, who nine months ago had written to complain that the Boleyn management “changes the shows as per their wish” [cf. above], goes on to add: “I don’t understand the purpose of online booking. Shows never start on time. If you have a problem, you never know whom to ask…”

• Patron Abdul Monem, who also comments on the Boleyn Cinema nine months ago, is especially scathing – he writes: “They are not professional! People stick chewing gum on the seats and they never ever check after the show! They just making money and doing nothing! I never recommend it…”

• Commenting eight months ago, patron Asjana Tariq expresses impressions that are paradoxically much more positive – she writes: “Nice friendly staff. Tickets are always available. Toilets are spotless”.

• Finally, and also commenting eight months ago, a patron who identifies himself as Murali V., notes simply as follows: “Poor sound quality. Must be improved”.

The revamping of the Boleyn Cinema

As briefly touched on above, the premises of the Boleyn Cinema would undergo a certain restructuring and revamping by 2014-2015. Patron Kavitha writes in December 2015 of the theatre’s “Newly refurbished facilities” [cf. https://www.tripadvisor.com.au, op.cit.]. The general revamping would also, it seems, be accompanied by an upgrading of the quality of staff service – Kavitha may therefore speak of “Extremely polite and helpful staff”. Further, the revamping would also mean that the management of the Boleyn would pay greater attention to matters of hygiene within the premises – Kavitha, for instance, writes of “Clean toilets”.

Similarly, writing three years ago, a patron by the name of Vijay Kumar tells us that the Boleyn Cinema “Looks better after recent refurbishment”.

Finally, it is of some interest to note that patron Venkata Chaitanya Tantravahi, writing two years ago, tells us that “The revamped seating is better than many of the big brand cinemas”.

There are two points that need to be made here with respect to the revamping of the Boleyn Cinema by 2015. Firstly, this attempt at restructuring and somewhat renewing the premises takes place precisely at a time when the competition with the chain cinemas is reaching its maximum intensity [cf. our observations above with respect to the competition between the “independent” cinemas and the multiplex cinema chains]. It was most probably in response to such competition that the management of the Boleyn Cinema undertook, not only to revamp the premises, but to also diversify the venue’s operation through the establishment of the banquet hall. Secondly, the attempt at revamping the cinema did not seem to have made much of a difference in the eyes of many of its patrons – as we have seen above in presenting fairly recent patron reviews of the cinema, complaints about the quality of the premises and the cinema’s manner of operation would not really abate much.

The Boleyn Cinema versus the “British standard” of cinemas

Patron Venkata Chaitanya Tantravahi, as quoted above, is of the opinion that the Boleyn Cinema – at least as regards its revamped seating – would surpass many of “the big brand cinemas”, by which he must mean the UK multiplexes. Such an assessment seems to be an overestimation, most probably expressive of the sentimental affection and loyalty that so many East Ham locals harboured for their neighbourhood cinema hall. As an “independent”, Asian-owned cinema, however, the Boleyn Cinema would never really be able to match the standards of the multiplex chain cinemas. That is understandable, given the limited budget of the Asian-owned enterprises in comparison to cinemas owned by companies such as Cine-UK. While local patrons would – out of necessity – maintain their loyalty to the Boleyn, many would at the same time complain that their hub came nowhere near to meeting the standards of other cinema halls operating in the UK. Often enough, we come across patrons contrasting the operation of the Boleyn premises to what they would call the “British standard”.

We may here present the following representative samples indicative of just such wish to contrast the “independent” neighbourhood theatre to others in the region of London or elsewhere:

• A patron who identifies himself as Hari Hara Kumar M., and writing one year ago, made the following comment regarding the operation of the Boleyn Cinema: “Average. Not to the standards of London”.

• Also writing one year ago, patron Jay Karma notes: “Building and facilities are ok… but need to keep British standard…”

• This so-called “British standard” would presumably only be met in the UK chain cinemas, and thus we find Boleyn patrons contrasting the operation of the Asian-owned enterprise to that of Ilford’s Cineworld. One such case may be that of patron Raghu Manchambatla, who eight months ago would make the following observations [though not all of which are lucid, given language problems]: “I wasn’t expecting a Cineworld experience but the screen is facing the right of the theatre! By chance if you’re forced to sit on left, you’ll hate for sitting in. The video quality is better not talked about. It’s the worst part of the cinema! It was dark and dull. The 4K quality they are shot the video in theatres looked like a cam print exploded on a massive screen. All in all terrible experience”.

Manchambatla’s critical observations regarding the operation of the Boleyn Cinema are based on a comparison with that of the “Cineworld experience” generally, though may also be referring to the Ilford branch itself. To the extent that the latter applies, such a comparison would be an oversimplification. While Ilford’s Cineworld multiplex would most definitely come closer to meeting the “British standard” of cinemas, it too would be beset with a variety of problems at times reminiscent of those of the Boleyn venue. As we shall see below in discussing the condition and operation of the Cineworld Cinema premises at Ilford, it could generally be said that multiplexes screening Bollywood films for ethnic “cultural clusters” would themselves be inferior in operation to those multiplexes that screened Hollywood movies [or movies produced by other film industries of the Western world] for White Britons [the reasons for this will hopefully become apparent as we explore exactly what happens within Ilford’s Cineworld movie theatres while screening a Bollywood movie].

The Boleyn Cinema – ticket prices

Above, we had examined the relationship between a person’s socio-economic position and his/her choice of cinema hall. And we had, within that context, contrasted the ticket pricing policies of Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema to that of the Boleyn Cinema. It is again within such context that we shall now further focus on the Boleyn’s ticket pricing policies in particular, examining the comments of patrons regarding ticket prices. Keeping in mind that the issue of socio-economic position vis-à-vis choice of cinema is especially complex, we shall not attempt to draw any general conclusions. Rather, we may simply let local [and other] patrons speak for themselves: recording their various reactions seems to be more useful here than indulging in theoretical – and, more often than not, dogmatic – abstractions. We present the following patron commentary recorded through the years:

• As already noted [in discussing the condition of the Boleyn premises], patron Kandimalla Chandrasekhar – who writes six years ago – complains about the unusually high ticket prices one has to pay so as to watch a Telugu-language movie. In contrast to the usual ticket price for adults [£5.00-£6.00], Chandrasekhar tells us that “you are spending 10 to 15 pounds for a Telugu cinema”.

• On the other hand, and writing five years ago, patron Kavitha R. notes that the Boleyn Cinema is “The cheapest place in London to watch an Indian movie”. And he goes on to write of “Unbelievable bargain prices of £5 and £6 for tickets”. To complement such “bargain prices”, there is also “Free parking at the back [of the cinema]”.

• Patron Ayub Mundekat, writing four years ago, informs us of the Boleyn’s “… cheap tickets, offering discounts…”

• Writing three years ago, patron Hasnath Kalam tells us that “the ticket price is unbelievably cheap”. Also writing three years ago, patron Madhavo Rao – who must be referring to the screening of big-budget Bollywood movies or perhaps Telugu-language movies at the Boleyn – does not wish to complain about the unusually high cost of ticket prices for such occasions. As he puts it: “Worth the cost of 10 [pounds] per movie for adults and 5 [pounds] for children”.

• Two years ago, patron Shahbaz Raja simply notes that the Boleyn Cinema offers “Very cheap ticket[s]”.

All of the following patron comments were recorded exactly one year ago:

• Patron Arpan Upadhayay simply informs us that the Boleyn Cinema is the locality’s “budget movie hall” for family and friends who wish to watch Bollywood movies.

• Patron Arun Raj tells us that the Boleyn’s “… Cost of ticket is affordable”.

• Patron Taraka Prabhu writes of “low ticket prices”.

• Patron Haji K. finds that the Boleyn Cinema is “very cheap”.

• Patron Sash Fernando confirms that “The prices are cheap £6 per person, can’t argue with that”.

• A patron who identifies himself/herself as Gopi informs us that the Boleyn Cinema [which is presented as an “average theatre”] offers the “Lowest ticket price for Tamil movies”. The patron must be comparing Boleyn ticket prices with those of other theatres in London, most probably the multiplexes.

• Patron Kiran Edem, on the other hand, confirms what has been noted above as regards Boleyn ticket prices for watching Telugu-language movies – he writes that “They charge a lot, a lot for Telugu movies” [he adds, by the way, that “the experience is very poor”]. The unusually high cost of ticket prices for Telugu-language movies may be explained in terms of the fact that the Boleyn Cinema was one of the very few theatres in the London area that actually screened that particular sub-genre of movie – viz. Tollywood [cf., above, regarding observations on this fact made by patrons such as Sijo Jacob and Narayana Murthy Pemmaraju]. Edem’s comment on the pricing of tickets for Telugu movies also confirms the reality that the Boleyn Cinema’s ticket pricing policy could be, in contrast to that of Cineworld Cinema, rather idiosyncratic: we have noted the cinema’s ticket price variation, depending on the movie being screened.

• Such price variation is further confirmed by patron Ravi Goriparthi, who asks: “Why are the ticket prices not fixed and always different?”

The following comments regarding Boleyn Cinema ticket pricing were made eleven months ago:

• Patron Jonathan Old makes the simple statement that Boleyn is a “Cheap cinema”. For him, this fact seems to overshadow whatever negative features characterize the venue – as he says [and which of course also relates to questions regarding the condition and operation of the premises – cf. above]: “Show started late, and the showroom was a bit dirty (popcorn under every seat), but for the price, it was a great experience” [my emph.]. We see here that patrons’ toleration of the venue’s conditions of operation is also explainable in terms of the cinema’s ticket pricing policy [and which could to some extent point to a relationship between choice of cinema and class position and/or income bracket].

• Observations made by patron Sivanantham Sivakumar seem to more or less echo those of Jonathan Old. He writes: “The price is very low and the screen and seat and the audio was perfect for the cheapest price. The seats are normal like all cinemas and you can move the seats in screen 1 (I am not sure about the other screens)” [my emph.]. Again, one suspects that the patron is rather gracious as regards the condition and operation of the theatre given its ticket pricing policy.

The following comments were recorded nine months ago:

• Patron Jaimin Soni tells us that the Boleyn Cinema allows locals to “experience” Bollywood type movies “in [sic] affordable price[s]”.

• In contrast to what seems to be the majority of Boleyn locals, the patron who identifies himself as Srinevas VoilA does not seem to think that ticket prices are cheap, and cannot therefore be said to justify the condition of the venue’s premises. He writes that although he appreciates the fact that movies “in foreign tongues” are screened at the Boleyn, yet still, “the service, quality of seats and overall movie experience leaves a lot of room for improvement for the price that is charged”. We may nonetheless assume that VoilA cannot possibly be referring to that £5.00 [or £6.00] ticket price usually charged at the Boleyn, it being comparatively very low – it is possible that VoilA is talking of that special category of movies for which Boleyn management would increase ticket prices at whim.

Finally, and confirming yet again Boleyn’s ticket price policy regarding what management deemed to be a special category of movies, patron Srinivas Reddy – writing eight months ago – notes: “… high ticket prices for big movies”.

We shall end this survey of patron comments on the Boleyn Cinema’s ticket price policy by further considering a number of comments that contrast such policy to that of Ilford’s Cineworld.

Patron Gnans S., who is writing three years ago, makes the following comparison: “You get what you pay for. Whilst cinema chains charge £11 per ticket they [at the Boleyn Cinema] charge only £6”. For Gnans S., such discrepancy in the price of a ticket is not the only reason why the Boleyn Cinema is a “good place” – added to the question of ticket price, the Boleyn is in any case special because it screens “regional films” that are not available elsewhere [cf. above].

Writing two years ago, patron Sudhanshu D. simply observes that “Price [at the Boleyn] is half of what you will pay in Cineworld”. Also writing two years ago, patron Melhi Yabesh, who “loves” the Boleyn Cinema for its specific “Indian” ambience, notes: “Worth the £5 ticket price compared to the overpriced Cineworld N/w [viz. network]…”

A patron who identifies himself as Prasanth MP, writing one year ago, compares the ticket prices of the Boleyn Cinema to those of other cinemas in the London area, including the case of Cineworld – he writes: “Ticket price is comparatively low than Cineworld/Odeon/Vue etc.” We cannot be certain as to which particular Odeon and Vue cinema theatres Prasanth MP is referring to – it is possible that in the case of the former, he may be referring to Odeon Barking, along Longbridge Road, Barking [and which would take approximately three minutes by subway to get to it from East Ham]; in the case of the latter, he may be referring to the Vue Cinema along Montfichet Road, Westfield Stratford [and which would take approximately fifteen minutes by subway to get to it from East Ham]. Finally, and also writing one year ago, patron Pasupathi tells us that “Ticket rates [at the Boleyn Cinema] are much cheaper than Cineworld and other chain of cinemas here”.

The Cineworld Cinema: some further introductory notes on the venue

Both in our examination of the relationship between “independent” Asian cinemas and the multiplex cinema chains, as also in our brief historical notes on East Ham’s cinema venues, we had recorded a number of important facts pertaining to the Cineworld Cinema, located in the environs of the East London region under investigation. Before we undertake an empirical investigation of the Cineworld Cinema along lines parallel to those of the Boleyn Cinema, it would be useful to present here some further introductory notes on Ilford’s multiplex chain cinema. To do that, we shall again have to rely on the work of Lucia Krämer [op. cit.].

The first note, concerning not only the case of the Ilford branch itself, but UK’s Cineworld multiplex chain as a whole, confirms that South Asian movies have become stably embedded into the cinema programmes of the chain, and have thereby achieved an “established status” within many Cineworld branch theatres. Krämer explains as follows: “Cineworld… has a link on its web site that leads specifically to the South Asian films in its programme. (Like Odeon, it has renamed this category ‘Bollywood and South Asian Cinemas’.) Again, this presence underlines the stable and established status of Indian films in the Cineworld programme. However, a closer look reveals that their screenings of South Asian films, too, are restricted to a limited number of sites. All in all, about fifteen of the eighty-two Cineworld sites schedule South Asian mainstream films on a regular basis (though not necessarily each week), and some ten show them occasionally”.

Given its particular location – that of “Little India” – the Ilford Cineworld Cinema has set aside venues that are absolutely regular – and definitely not merely occasional – in the screening of Bollywood films [cf., inter alia, The List, https://www.film.list.co.uk; Ilford Recorder, https://www.ilfordrecorder.co.uk, 07.12.2020]. The second note we therefore wish to make is the following as regards Ilford’s Cineworld in particular [but which also includes the London Fetham cinema] – Krämer continues: “The London Ilford and London Fetham cinemas take pride of place in this line-up. They have in recent years also hosted several UK premièrs of Hindi films as well as promotional meet-and-greet events with big stars, thus creating for themselves a profile of being Bollywood showcases” [my emph.].

The Cineworld Cinema: some notes on its location

Writing four years ago, a Cineworld Cinema patron by the name of Arjun Sandhu tells us that he had spent “Brilliant cinema minutes” at the venue, which is located in “Ilford’s shopping area”.

Lukshan Sharvaswaran, a Cineworld patron writing three years ago, expresses his enthusiasm about both the “community” that circumscribes the Cineworld venue and the venue itself – he writes: “Great place for movies, great community…”

Also writing three years ago, Lloyd Hutchinson – who must be an outsider to the Asian community of the locality [and thus most probably a non-Bollywood fan] – informs us as follows about the Cineworld Cinema and its environs: “Nice cinema with all the latest movies but the surrounding area has loads of empty shops…” [By the way, the case of Lloyd Hutchinson allows us to make the following clarificatory note: We shall see below that a number of comments with reference to the Cineworld Cinema in particular have been made by non-Asians. It is possible that some of these patrons may have visited the venue so as to watch a Hollywood movie in one of its many screens – their comments therefore must be seen as expressing general impressions of the multiplex venue as a whole].

Finally, and again writing three years ago, a comment made by Cineworld patron Mohammed Zaman seems to confirm Lloyd Hutchinson’s observations – he notes: “Loads of shops closed around it [viz. the cinema venue]… The surrounding street feels dirty and unsafe”. The apparent lack of safety may be compared to what we have noted above as concerns Barking Road, along which the Boleyn Cinema is situated.

The types of movies usually screened at the Cineworld Cinema

Patron Abdul Mohammed, writing three years ago, informs us as follows: “Due to Ilford been [sic] largely Asian community some of the Hollywood movies not shown here because of Bollywood movies”. This simple comment allows us to make the following three observations: [i] It is the demographic morphology of the locality that determines the types of movies usually screened at this multiplex chain cinema [and cf. above as regards Cine-UK’s decision to focus on ethnic-based “cultural clusters” as its catchment area, and how such clusters would determine cinemagoing practices within Ilford’s Cineworld]; [ii] It is somewhat implied that Asians may also be watching Hollywood movies – our readings of the various sources investigating the cinemagoing practices of Asian “cultural clusters” in the UK certainly confirms this. On the other hand, it is also evident in the literature that non-Asians in the UK – especially White Britons – do not watch Bollywood movies [we shall be discussing this further below]; [iii] Having said that, it is quite obvious that not all of Cineworld’s eleven screens would be screening Bollywood films.

A patron of the Cineworld Cinema who identifies himself as Subramanian M., and also writing three years ago, tells us that the venue “Plays Tamil movies a lot”.

Writing two years ago, patron Kunal Godbole comments as follows with respect to the types of movies screened at the Cineworld venue: “It has a good range of Hindi and Indian regional cinemas [viz. movies] like Tamil, Telugu, Malayalam, etc.” This comment allows us to qualify assertions made by some commentators [such as Narayana Murthy Pemmaraju or Kiran Edem – cf. above] that the Boleyn Cinema has been the only venue in the region screening Telugu movies.

The following patron comments were all recorded exactly one year ago:

• A Cineworld patron who wishes to maintain his anonymity and presents himself/herself as The Londoners Story, tells us the following: “They have all variety of movies, from Hindi, Urdu, to Tamil, etc.”

• Patron Ajay Vinogithan writes: “I watched a Tamil movie on Monday screen 10”. This comment is of special interest in that it verifies Krämer’s suggestion that a multiplex cinema such as Cineworld has allocated a “stable” and “established status” to Bollywood movies, so much so that the screening of such movies does not only take place over weekends: as we see here, Vinogithan was able to watch a Tamil movie on a Monday. Of course, his comment could also be said to confirm that it is only particular screens of the Cineworld venue that exhibit Bollywood movies [the balance as to the screening of Bollywood movies in relation to those of Hollywood is not clarified in this comment].

• Patron Ranjan Rao tells us – in rather problematic language – that the Cineworld Cinema “Had got many screens and does of many Indian movies, may be the most in London”. Rao’s comment seems to overlook the case of the Boleyn Cinema.

• Further clarifying that the screens of the Cineworld venue can exhibit both Bollywood and non-Bollywood movies, a patron who signs as Iceze writes as follows: “Good cinema. Shows Asian as well as English films”. To the extent that the venue is “good” because it shows both Bollywood and non-Bollywood movies, we may assume that Iceze enjoys watching both types of movies, and both of which are screened in the Cineworld theatres.

The following two comments were made nine months ago:

• In rather problematic English, patron Rohith Rahman writes that the Cineworld Cinema “considers the area demands as it is Asian heavy. More Asian films than standard”. Of course, Rahman is explaining that the management of the Cineworld Cinema has to respond to the “demands” of the locality for Bollywood movies, it being a locality that is “Asian heavy”. This observation further confirms that a multiplex chain cinema in the UK has no choice but to adjust to the demands of the “cultural clusters” within which it has chosen to operate.

• Patron Charulatha Sanmathi’s comment also confirms that the Cineworld Cinema exhibits both English-language movies and Bollywood movies; and she further confirms the fact that the multiplex cinema has to adjust to the demands of the locality, thereby allocating a special “status” and regularity to the Bollywood genre. This is what she writes: “Apart from English movies, Indian movies are released regularly on the same day as Indian release and we saw two movies”. We need note that the Cineworld Cinema can release Bollywood films on the exact same day as happens in India itself, something which more or less echoes Krämer’s observation that the Ilford venue hosts UK premièrs of Hindu films [cf. above].

The final two patron comments were recorded eight months ago:

• A patron who signs as Dimple Jom informs us that the Cineworld Cinema is “A place where almost all the Malayalam films releases [sic]”. We have noted above that the Boleyn Cinema itself screens films of the Mollywood genre.

• A commentator by the name of Kate Jackson – who does not seem to belong to the Asian “cultural clusters” of the region – makes a number of extremely interesting observations, all of which seem to point to the near-exclusivity of Bollywood shows at the Cineworld venue, this time suggesting an actual imbalance in the screening of Bollywood movies vis-à-vis Hollywood movies. While she does not deny the fact that Cineworld also exhibits English-language movies, her comment does emphasize the dominance of the Bollywood genre, which she explains in terms of the demographic morphology of the area. In the latter sense at least, she fully verifies comments made by patrons such as Abdul Mohammed and Rohith Rahman as recorded above. In any case, one may say that her observations, albeit not really neutral at all, do more or less summarize much of what other patrons have to say regarding the type of movies screened at the Cineworld Cinema. This is what Kate Jackson writes: “Finally, there is a severe lack of mainstream films [viz. Hollywood] shown here. I appreciate Ilford has a large Asian community, but there should be more variety as if you’re not into Bollywood films, you have to go much further afield to watch films. In the week I am writing this, there are 12 different films being shown, only three of which aren’t Bollywood. They don’t show the majority of the new Hollywood films, with one of the other three being a Nick Jr’s film [viz. kid’s movies], and it is often the same films showing over and over again”. Need we say that such observations – made by someone who is most probably a White Briton – point to cinemagoing practices that are essentially segregated along ethnic-lines [we shall have to return to this most telling reality regarding the ethnic-based cinemagoing – and thus ethnic-based cultural – practices of UK’s “cultural clusters”, and the wider implications of this].

Patron sentiments on the type of movies screened at the Cineworld Cinema

Thus far – and apart from the rather subjective comment made by Kate Jackson above – we have attempted to present the type of movies screened at the Cineworld Cinema based on fairly “neutral” comments made by the cinema’s patrons. Here [and as in the case of the Boleyn Cinema], we shall focus on samples of comments that express a certain sentiment regarding the type of movies watched at the Cineworld venue. Such sentiments are mainly expressed by locals.

Writing six years ago, patron Jessen R., while complaining that the Cineworld’s ticket prices can be too high, nonetheless admits that the type of movies shown at the venue is rather pleasing – we read: “Ok, the selection of films is quite good, with most Bollywood/Tamil films with English subtitles”.

Patron Vaibhav Sharma, who writes five years ago, tells us that he would visit Ilford’s Cineworld venue specifically so as to watch Bollywood movies – he writes: “… only time I go there is to watch Bollywood movie and if it is not played in 02”. By “02”, Sharma must be referring to the multiplex cinema known as Cineworld – The 02 Greenwich, located in the Peninsula Square, Greenwich Peninsula, South East London [it is eleven minutes by subway from the region of East Ham]. Judging by its name, this Greenwich theatre must also belong to the Cineworld chain. We should also note how Vaibhav Sharma tends to be devoted to the watching of Bollywood movies.

A patron by the name of Rajaram Ramakrishnan, writing four years ago, expresses his affinity to Tamil-language movies, as also his annoyance at having to watch movie trailers in the Hindi language, which he [and his company] fails to understand. This comment is of some interest as it points to cultural divisions within UK’s Asian “cultural clusters” [below, we shall have to further explore the heterogeneity of cinemagoing audiences within “cultural clusters” themselves]. Ramakrishnan writes as follows: “We went to watch a Tamil (language) movie and was shown trailers of Hindi (different language) movies which really annoyed us. Since we can’t understand that language and the main movie is of different language, there is no reason to play those different language (Hindi) movie trailers. We can understand English and so playing English movie trailers would have been the best option if Cineworld don’t have any upcoming new Tamil movie trailers. But playing the trailers of a language that we don’t understand is really disappointing and I hope Cineworld chain understands this”.

The following Cineworld patron comments were all made exactly two years ago:

• Patron Aamar Nath, who seems to be a resident of India but had stayed in London for one year, would come to love the venue for its screening of Indian movies – he writes, inter alia, that “Cineworld cinema is one of the best things [that] happened in London”.

• Patron Subhendu Mukherjee writes as follows: “Nice multiplex. Best in East London after 02 [with respect to “02”, cf. above]. I love it because this screens many Hindi/Bollywood movies”.

• A patron who identifies himself as Raghavendra Av, clearly echoes Subhendu Mukherjee’s sentiments concerning the Ilford Cineworld venue when he writes as follows: “One of [my] favourite hide out [sic] to watch Indian movies”.

• The idea that the Cineworld Cinema constitutes a “hideout” for locals is further expressed by patron Arikt Jain, at least judging by this patron’s regular visits to the venue – we read: “Have come to this one many times, as is only one of the very few cinemas that showcase Hindi/Bollywood movies for more than a week”.

• As in the case of other Cineworld patrons, Shahidul Islam points to the fact that the venue does not exhibit much of English-language movies – but he nonetheless feels that that would be pleasing to locals who in any case only wish to watch Indian movies. He writes: “Doesn’t have many English movies on… Guess it’s good if you [are] looking to watch Indian movies as most of the showing are [sic] for Indian movies”. Reminiscent of other comments recorded above, one is here given the impression that the functioning of a multiplex chain cinema such as Ilford’s Cineworld would not differ much from that of the Asian-owned Boleyn Cinema – whatever their differences, both would come to function as cultural hubs around which specific “cultural clusters” would bond, or would further their bonds on a regular basis [much of what we shall be further discussing below as regards the Cineworld Cinema would seem to verify such a general observation].

• Our final sample comment which has been recorded two years ago confirms that the Cineworld venue – precisely as in the case of the Boleyn Cinema – would attract patrons of particular “cultural clusters” whatever the conditions of operation prevailing therein [Cineworld conditions shall be examined in some detail below]. Patrons would tolerate whatever conditions so long as the movies being screened were expressive of the ethnic-based cultural proclivities of the members of the locality. Thus, a local patron by the name of Tanzirul Hasan, who describes the conditions of operation within the Cineworld venue in a manner that is absolutely surprising for a chain cinema belonging to the all-powerful Cine-UK, nonetheless admits that he would visit the theatre so as to watch a Hindi movie. Hasan writes: “This is probably one of the worst cinemas. The seats are always dirty and smells at times for not being cleaned properly. I never go there, but sometimes some Hindi movies only released there. For that reason I go there” [my emph.].

The following patron comments were made exactly one year ago:

• Patron Imran Haq feels that, although Ilford’s Cineworld venue is “dated” if compared to other venues of the chain, it nonetheless “does show Indian movies so that’s good”.

• Local patron Kailash Solanki simply tells us that the Cineworld is his “favourite” cinema as it screens all types of movies, again confirming that UK’s Asian audiences may also watch non-Bollywood movies once in a while. Solanki writes as follows about what types of movies Cineworld exhibits: “Always plenty of showtimes for all types of movies… Bollywood, Hollywood, children’s…”

• Patron Siddharth Venkataraman expresses his sentiments about the types of movies screened at Cineworld as follows: “Really good cinema theatre for movie folks, especially Indians”.

• Similarly, patron Durga Sri writes: “Our favourite place in London for weekends”. This comment – showing an obvious emotional attachment to the cinema – also points to a certain “homely atmosphere” that would prevail within the Cineworld theatres over weekends [we shall be examining the question of “atmosphere” further below].

• A patron who signs as SonicDaSpeedyGod comments: “Nice time for movies in all languages”. The patron must be referring to the different sub-genres constituting Bollywood movies, all of which – as we know – come in the various languages of the sub-continent [he/she may of course also be referring to English-language films as well].

• Cineworld patron Bilal Ail writes: “Good film I like is Punjabi film”.

The following two comments were recorded nine months ago:

• Patron Debashish Mukherjee expresses his sentiments about the Cineworld venue as follows: “Good for Asians in the UK. Lots of Bollywood movies screened”.

• Patron Vibha Ramesh writes: “I came to see a Kannada movie! Please continue showing Kannada movies…!”

The final two comments we recorded eight months ago:

• Patron Sam Red simply informs us that Ilford’s Cineworld is a “Good place to watch Indian films…”

• Zarin Ali, who must be a non-local patron, tells us that we should “trust” Ilford’s venue for its consistency in showing Bollywood movies – she writes: “Pretty cinema. If by chance your closest Cineworld isn’t showing a Bollywood film, trust Ilford Cineworld to be showing it”. This comment, in its conciseness, confirms that the Cineworld venue at Ilford has functioned so as to satisfy the cultural needs of Asian “cultural clusters” [and cf. Krämer’s observation above, regarding the “stable” and “established status” of Indian films in the Cineworld programmes] – it of course also confirms that such needs on the part of the Asian “cultural clusters” are absolutely real.

The Cineworld Cinema’s “familial” and/or “homely atmosphere”

The stereotypical picture of the multiplex chain cinema is that it is “impersonal” in its service and “atmosphere”. Such type of businesslike detachment from patrons, however, would apply to cinema venues that do not directly serve the interests of a particular community – attracting customers from a wide variety of localities, the cultural physiognomy of audiences would be diffuse and dissipated in a manner reflective of the diversity of cinema patrons. Such diversity of patrons would not lend itself to a “familial” atmosphere within the typical theatres of chain cinemas. In terms of such general framework, Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema is something of a paradox, at least in the sense that it cannot be said to at all conform to such stereotype picture.

Above, we had quoted Hasnath Kalam, a patron of the Boleyn Cinema, who would place much emphasis on the “personal touch” of a venue run by Asians and specifically for Asians – such “touch” could only but have directly reflected the cultural psyche of East Ham’s Asian “cultural clusters”. Having noted Kalam’s important observation, we had also said that we would need to investigate the extent to which even an “implant” as was Ilford’s Cineworld would have to adjust to the cultural needs of the community circumscribing its functioning as a venue. Such necessary adjustment may be said to be evident in a number of ways, one of which is the “family” or “homely atmosphere” prevailing within the Cineworld Cinema – and that, despite its multiplex chain character. Here, we shall present a number of sample patron comments verifying the exceptional manner in which a multiplex chain such as Ilford’s Cineworld had had to function while screening Bollywood movies – or, perhaps more accurately, found itself functioning while screening such movies, in the sense that a very specific “atmosphere” would be imposed on it by its regular Asian patrons.

To begin with, we may say that the “family” or “homely atmosphere” prevailing within the Cineworld venue may be put down to the fact that many of its customers have been regulars over a very long period of time. Consider the following representative case of a patron by the name of Mayouran Jeyakumar, writing four years ago: “Have been going here for 14 years. Really good service…” In 2017, when this comment was recorded, Ilford’s Cineworld had been in operation for fifteen years – Mayouran Jeyakumar, it seems, must have literally grown up with the operation of the Cineworld venue. It is not surprising, therefore, that the patron has simply come to accept the cinema’s “really good service”.

Jai Prakash, writing a year ago, tells us that he had visited Ilford’s Cineworld so as to watch a particular Bollywood movie. Apparently unfamiliar with what happens within that venue when a Bollywood film is screened, Jai Prakash was disturbed by the fact that patrons were unruly, “Thinking that they are watching movie at home” [my emph.].

Also writing one year ago, a patron who simply identifies himself/herself as Sumjim tells us that “We visit this place twice a week at least”. The sheer frequency of visits to Cineworld suggests that the venue must operate as a “home” to both Sumjim and his/her companions.

Writing eleven months ago, patron Rachel Bamouni further confirms the frequency of visits to the Cineworld venue on the part of many locals, and especially so on Sundays – she tells us that “We’re there every Sunday” [and cf. the comment made by Durga Sri above, who has noted that Cineworld is a “favourite place” over weekends].

Patron Waqi Coder, who records his comment nine months ago, expresses the following sentiments about the Cineworld venue and its staff – he writes: “Amazing staffs [sic]. I love them. It feels like family. Entertainment top of entertainment” [my emph.].

Finally, writing two months ago, a patron who signs his comment as Big Daddy Singh makes the following interesting – and all too telling – observation: “One time I saw a customer come in with her pajamas like she was at home, there should be a rule we’re [viz. where] people aren’t allowed to wear night gowns in cinemas” [my emph.].

The Cineworld Cinema’s audiences: families, their children, and others

It is of importance to note that [apart from a certain variation in the “income bracket” defining cinema customers, cf. above] the type of audiences that have been frequenting the Boleyn Cinema are just about the same as those frequenting Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema – here too, it is the family unit [and whoever relates to it, including very small children] that constitutes the basic core of audiences. In that sense, at least, the social functionality of the two theatres has been more or less the same, with the one venue complementing the other. The predominance of the Asian family and its children as the core of Cineworld audiences may be supported by considering the patron comments presented below.

An apparently irregular Cineworld patron who signs as Samby F., and recording his comment five years ago, writes as follows: “… and [I] thought I’d take mum to watch a movie [there]”. Yet another patron, by the name of Zahid Amin, and also writing five years ago, makes the following observation about Ilford’s Cineworld: “What a dump, crying babies (how can you allow babies in a cinema?)…” As shall be further observed below, the Cineworld would simply allow its Asian patrons to watch Bollywood movies as a family together with their children, whatever the age of the latter and whatever the formal age rating of the movie.

Writing three years ago, a patron identifying himself/herself as Bluecat Redcat, writes: “I took my daughter and son yesterday at screen number 2” so that they watch a particular movie.

Cineworld patron Naat He Naat, writing two years ago, informs us as follows: “It’s always pleasant to watch movies here as I always come with my family and family friends”.

The patron comments that follow were all made exactly one year ago:

• In describing Ilford’s Cineworld venue, patron Kailash Solanki puts it succinctly as follows: “Family friendly place” [my emph.].

• Patron Rajendhiran Vallathan informs us that, together with his family, he had gone to the Cineworld venue so as to watch a particular Tamil movie – he writes: “We were watching… [the movie] with our family in SCREEN 3 Cineworld”.

• An apparently non-regular customer of the Ilford Cineworld branch was struck by the fact that there were children in the theatre watching a movie not deemed suitable for their age, something which would in any case be – and as has been mentioned – a regular occurrence for both the Boleyn and the Cineworld cinemas. Signing his comment as Synical, he/she writes: “Been twice and both times had little kids under the film age in the screen…”

• A patron who signs as Amy Amy also expresses surprise at the fact that underaged children had been present in the Cineworld theatre when she had gone to watch a particular movie starring Kangana Ranaut [this actress shall be referred to further below] – Amy writes: “OMG are under-aged [sic] kids allowed in to watch films too?”

• A regular Cineworld patron by the name of Tofur Ahmed is highly appreciative of the fact that the cinema’s staff is always tolerant of his young son’s behaviour within the theatre. Tofur Ahmed writes as follows [albeit in highly problematic English]: “Lovely people my son everyday time make trouble for them still they say nothing respact [sic] the stuff [sic] from bottom of heart”.

• Patron Ranjan Rao also focuses on the presence of children within the Cineworld venue, and, very interestingly, compares that situation to what typically happens in India’s cinemas as opposed to UK cinemas frequented by non-settlers – this is what he writes: “[The Cineworld Cinema is] overall reasonable, but sometimes families with kids come. If you’re from India you might be used to it, but most British [viz. White Britons] are not used to it” [my emph.].

The following comments were recorded eleven months ago:

• Patron Ravinder Kaur writes: “Came with my nieces and nephews…”

• The case of a patron who signs as Mad Poo, and who is definitely not a local, seems rather exceptional. On the one hand, the patron’s comment confirms that Asian adults do wish to take their children along with them so as to watch a Bollywood movie at a place such as Ilford’s Cineworld. On the other hand, we here have at least one case where the cinema’s management actually refused entry to a young child – yet still, Poo himself explains that this has been highly unusual in his experience with Cineworld. In what is rather faulty language, the patron describes what happened on arrival at the venue, following an hour’s trip so as to get there: “… and then they say we are to my son is too young to watch even though we have been here before and watched another 15 [movies]”.

• A patron who signs his/her comment as With Opinion, writes as follows: “You’ll have babies screaming in the middle of the movie… Children allowed when it’s not age appropriate”.

The following comment was recorded ten months ago by a patron named Zack Lala: “One of the best place[s] for my kids. Must visit once a month for kids”.

Writing eight months ago, patron Sam Red notes: “Good place to have an evening out with the family”.

Finally, and putting the matter in a nutshell four months ago, patron Muhammad Khan simply describes cinemagoing at Ilford’s Cineworld as “Family Entertainment”.

Audience behaviour within the Cineworld theatres

We have observed above that Ilford’s Cineworld venue is characterized by a type of “atmosphere” that one may call “familial” or “homely”, it being created by the regular presence of Asian families and their children. This “atmosphere” may be said to be enlivened by a very specific type of behaviour typical of the Asian “cultural clusters” that have settled in the region of East Ham. To capture elements of such behaviour within the theatres of Ilford’s Cineworld, we shall again have to make use of patron comments [it goes without saying that none of what shall be recorded below is done in any judgmental spirit – and in any case we shall need to avoid methodological approaches of the type recommended by the likes of a Shakuntala Banaji, op. cit.].

Patron Samby F., recording his comment five years ago, has this to say about Cineworld’s regulars as a whole: “… crowd is a mix of horrible people, really horrible people and some decent folk…” Also writing five years ago, patron Vaibhav Sharma seems to share sentiments more or less similar to those of Samby F. when he tells us that “The crowd is… not very good”. Obviously, both of these comments are highly subjective reactions and we merely present them for the record, without drawing whatever conclusions. We should also add that both comments come from persons who are not Cineworld regulars.

The following three comments were recorded four years ago:

• In contrast to the commentators mentioned above, patron Omer Habib simply writes of a “Good crowd” frequenting the cinema, and which makes him feel “comfortable”. Habib is a regular of Ilford’s Cineworld and definitely a local of the area – this is perhaps why he can feel the way he does about Cineworld’s usual audiences, he being part of them.

• A patron by the name of Andrew Richardson – who, judging by the name, is most probably not a member of the Asian community – gives us some idea of the type of boisterous behaviour typical of Ilford’s Cineworld audiences. He writes: “… 90% of the customer base will talk throughout your whole movie, or make phone calls”.

• The final comment made four years ago is especially revealing as regards the highly boisterous – described even as “riotous” – behaviour of Cineworld’s Asian audiences. This is what patron M. Muttalib [who is most probably an “outsider”] has to say: “Avoid [the cinema] if you value your sanity. The locals are predominantly impertinent in the extreme. This is a smelly, dirty and riotous cinema. People talk throughout the movie on mass [viz. en masse] and there are always a few that like to make mobile phone calls during the film. A significant minority like to smuggle in hot smelly food and make a mess whilst consuming it. There are also people who bring babies into the cinema and then get annoyed when their babies cry from the loud sound levels of the speakers! Most regular users of this cinema seem to be very ill mannered, excessively loud and have a complete disregard for everyone else. You have been warned”. Again, such commentary constitutes a series of subjective impressions – both the commentary itself and the possible reality of what is being described have to be respected as invaluable specimens of the real, everyday life composing UK’s “cultural clusters”, and people’s impressions of such life.

The next two comments were recorded three years ago:

• A local patron who identifies himself/herself as Trooper ThatsAll describes what happens in the Cineworld venue when he visits it for its morning shows over weekends – we read: “I normally visit at weekend mornings, it’s often empty, however, what seems to happen is that other showings end and the patrons from those showings come in with their kids and fill up the front rows, noisy and running up and down”. This patron also adds, inter alia, the following as regards patron usage of the venue’s lavatory facilities: “… a recent refurbish [sic] of the toilets was done, but its [sic] still smells of piss constantly, its [sic] seems that the patrons don’t know how to use a toilet”.

• Patron Tahir Mohamed describes staff and audience behaviour at the cinema as follows: “Staff walking through movie, opening doors, kids running around from the start till end. All in all, money waste!”

The following three comments were made two years ago:

• A patron by the name of Charlene Whittington – who most probably is not a member of the Asian community, and whose presence in the screening of a Bollywood movie must definitely be seen as unusual – describes the behaviour of teenagers at the Cineworld venue. Her comment confirms, firstly, the presence of that particular age group in theatres screening Bollywood movies [this issue will be dealt with further below]; secondly, the presence of underaged audiences in theatre screenings. This is what she writes: “There were clearly teenagers in a[n] 18+ film as they were laughing and flashing their camera[s] during the film and generally very childish. I wasn’t asked for ID and I look very young for my age so they probably weren’t asked either…”

• A patron who signs as Vlad Vld also refers, inter alia, to the presence of teenagers in the cinema – he writes: “… peoples bringing their crying kids at the movies… uneducated teenagers with no common sense, spitting, shouting, fighting… laughing and using their mobile phones… it’s just a matter of time before I snap and punch a kid…”

• Finally, patron S. Kalmari writes: “I’d never visit here for Bollywood movies… the staff won’t care what’s happening in the cinema… some customers recording the movies on their phones and some talking loudly on their mobiles and some snoring too!!! What the heck that staff id [sic] doing??? Worst experience ever had… I had to tell off a women [sic] talking on mobile twice and walked off in the middle of the film…”

All comments that follow below were recorded one year ago:

• The patron signing as Synical, who has informed us that the Cineworld venue is often frequented by underaged audiences [cf. above], describes behaviour within the cinema as follows: “[children are] making noise and kicking my chair, people messing about with their phones distracting you from the movie, etc. Staff were friendly but they need to be stricter and more serious”.

• The patron who identifies himself/herself as The Londoners Story feels that it is especially the locals of the area that are problematic in their behaviour within the Cineworld cinema – asserting that it is they who lack civility, this patron describes their conduct as follows: “The only issue is the local people who come to see the movie and start talking to each other, using their phones, taking phone calls, playing Candy Crush [the well-known video game] while the movie is on. Sadly they have no respect for other people around…”

• Patron Trina Prakash – who is not a regular – describes her own experience at the Cineworld venue as follows: “Unfortunately, the experience was terrible. The other people attending the cinema talked all the way through the movie, somebody even put on a second movie or show for their child on an iPad or something (despite this not being a child viewing). It made me decide to never attend here again”. We should note here Prakash’s reference to “the other people” – it seems to suggest that Cineworld audiences may be said to be divided between, on the one hand, a relatively compact category of people comprising the regular locals and, on the other hand, those “outsiders” who choose to visit the cinema so as to watch some particular movie. While the former enjoy the “familial” and/or “homely atmosphere” within the theatre [which is naturally of their own creation], the latter feel a certain alienation of varying degrees of intensity.

• Patron Nicky Singh makes a list of the different types of experiences she has had while at the Cineworld venue – the list includes the following points: “I have had… People kick my seat… Tiny babies cry throughout the whole movie… People have full blown conversations while the movie is on… Feet rested up near my arm or head… A rat nearly jumped up on me… [etc.]”.

• A patron who simply identifies herself as Leanne writes as follows: “… the audiences are usually good, but screaming kids and babies can ruin the experience completely”.

• Patron Mohammed Akram simply observes: “There’s always troublemakers there”.

• Patron Lisun Hassan has a rather negative opinion about Cineworld regulars – she feels that “People are not friendly”.

• Patron Jai Prakash, who has already told us that Cineworld patrons behave as if “they are watching movie at home” [cf. above], goes on to describe his impressions as follows: “… Some people don’t have common manners and sense to don’t know how to be seated in cinema mall… Today one idiot girl keep hitting [the back side of my seat] while watching [a Bollywood movie]”.

The final comment, made eleven months ago by the patron who signs as With Opinion – and who has also written of the presence of screaming babies and underaged children within the cinema [cf. above] – further describes his/her impressions as follows: “Worst cinema to watch a good movie in… People texting and recording [the film they are busy watching]”.

The Cineworld Cinema – a venue primarily for the locals of the East Ham/Ilford region

Much of what has been recorded and discussed above shows quite clearly that Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema – and exactly as in the case of East Ham’s Boleyn Cinema – is a venue functioning primarily for the locals of the region. In discussing patron sentiments on the types of movies screened, we saw how the Cineworld venue has functioned as a “hideout” for locals wishing to enjoy their Bollywood movies. In discussing the “familial atmosphere” and the prevalence of Asian families within Ilford’s Cineworld theatres, it was quite obvious that audiences were composed of people residing in the neighbourhoods of the region circumscribing the cinema. Finally, in our examination of the typical behaviour of audiences within the theatres of the Cineworld venue, we saw that those responsible for such type of behaviour would usually constitute a compact group of regular locals [and which stood in some contradistinction to the behaviour of “outsiders”]. We shall here further present a number of patron comments, made through the years, which come to verify that Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema – and despite the fact that this is a multiplex chain cinema – has mainly functioned as a cultural hub for the locals constituting the locality’s “cultural clusters”.

One representative sample is a comment recorded five years ago and made by patron Mahesh Kannan, who writes: “I am a regular user of Cineworld, Ilford as I stay close by and see all language movies”.

The following two comments were made four years ago:

• Patron Vinit Sharma writes with respect to Ilford’s Cineworld venue: “Just walking distance from home and good for Bollywood movies”.

• Patron Omer Habib tells us that “It’s a nice comfortable place… Near to my home”.

The following two comments were recorded two years ago:

• Patron Abhijit Pathak informs us as follows about Cineworld: “Close for the ppl [viz. people] of Ilford and vicinity”.

• Patron Sujeendran Loganathan points to the relatively high cost of the multiplex’s ticket prices but nonetheless expresses an attachment to the cinema as would a local – as he writes: “It’s my local cinema… But expansive [sic]”.

The following three comments were recorded exactly one year ago:

• Patron Mohammad Shakeel tells us that the majority of Cineworld patrons are locals, these being “Mostly Asian customers”.

• The patron who identifies himself/herself as The Londoners Story asserts, albeit somewhat indirectly, that it is “the local people” who constitute the basic audience of Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema.

• Finally, patron Kailash Solanki simply tells us that Ilford’s Cineworld is “My favourite local cinema”.

The Cineworld Cinema – its non-local patrons

Having emphasized that even a multiplex chain such as the Cineworld Cinema can still function – and has in fact primarily functioned – as a neighbourhood hub for local cinemagoers, we may nonetheless also state that some of the venue’s patrons have been non-locals. This category of audience would normally be people who would wish to watch a specific Bollywood movie but who had no access to it in their area of residence.

Samples of comments suggesting the presence of non-local “outsiders” at the Cineworld Cinema include the following:

A patron who identifies himself/herself as Min. A., records the following comment four years ago: “Having read most of the reviews here [viz. Google Reviews] I was worried about my Cinema trip to Ilford (all the way from Cockfosters) to see the 1740hrs screening of Bajirao Mastani yesterday”. Together with his/her niece, this patron had travelled almost fifteen miles from the north London suburb of Cockfosters [a rather “leafy” suburb with about 13.5% of its locals being Asians] so as to watch a particular Indian Hindi-language movie [more shall be said of this movie below]. Also writing four years ago, patron Mayouran Jeyakumar – himself a local – informs us that Ilford’s Cineworld is rather easily accessible for non-locals wishing to visit the cinema – as he writes: “… location is perfect to get there by bus or train as well”.

A comment recorded two years ago by Gurmeet Kaur Bains reads as follows: “Not my local, came to this cinema couple of times as it was playing Bollywood/Punjabi movies. Has the Punjabi variety with timing options”. By “timing options”, of course, Bains wishes to state that Punjabi movies are screened in specific time slots as announced by the cinema management. The patron who signs as Aamar Nath, and who also recorded his comment two years ago, states: “Me and my wife enjoyed entire one year of our stay in London with Cineworld”. Here, of course, we have a case of non-local patrons who are in fact residents of India – yet still, the couple would be Cineworld regulars throughout their stay in the UK [the venue must have reminded them positively of their homeland].

The patron who signs his comment as Mad Poo, and who wrote eleven months ago, is yet another example of a non-local visitor of Cineworld. Quite irritated with his experience, he writes: “This place is so bad we travelled 1 hour to get hear [viz. here]”.

Finally, and writing eight months ago, patron Zarin Ali has been quoted [cf. above] as saying that whenever her closest Cineworld branch does not show a particular Bollywood movie, it is to Ilford that she travels so as to watch it.

The Cineworld Cinema – some general observations on the number of patrons it has usually attracted

A patron by the name of Vagish Vela, who writes seven years ago, tells us that many people visit Ilford’s Cineworld venue when Tamil movies are exhibited – this is what he says: “When you go to watch Tamil movies, you have to queue…”

On the other hand, it seems that it is not only Tamil-language films that draw long queues at the Cineworld venue. The patron who signs as Trooper ThatsAll, and who is writing three years ago, speaks more generally of what usually happens outside the venue whichever be the Bollywood movie that is being screened – as he/she observes: “… long lines waiting to be served”.

Writing two years ago, patron Subhendu Mukherjee, who has already been quoted [cf. above] as saying that she “loves” the Cineworld venue because it screens many Bollywood movies, nonetheless warns potential customers as follows: “But very busy one [viz. the venue]. Better to book your seat on line”.

Patron Ravinder Kaur, who writes eleven months ago, describes one of his visits to Cineworld as follows: “… was too busy with long q[ueue], need extra staff to run on busy days”.

Finally, and commenting exactly seven months ago, patron Gowhar Shaikh writes of a “Packed cinema”.

The Cineworld Cinema – the condition of its premises and the quality of its operation

The condition of Cineworld’s premises at Ilford has already been alluded to – as in the case of the Boleyn Cinema, far too many patrons have expressed a variety of negative opinions on the matter while nonetheless remaining loyal patrons for reasons already discussed [cf., for instance, the commentary recorded by patron Tanzirul Hasan above]. What follows is a series of patron comments that allow us to take a closer look at the quality of operation of a typical UK multiplex venue serving primarily Asian locals of its area. We shall let the comments speak for themselves – these are highly subjective observations that nonetheless express a reality as “lived” by locals. All of what is said is meant to describe a “lifeworld” that is to be respected as such by whichever social observer [and thereby excluding whatever derogatory implications].

It would be interesting to begin this general review of patron comments on the condition and/or operation of Ilford’s Cineworld premises by presenting the impressions of patron Jessen R., who tells us how he remembers the venue when it first opened in 2002 [while alluding to the venue’s relative degeneration thereafter]. This is what he writes six years ago: “Far from what it once was. I remember when this cinema opened (even though I must’ve been about 7) and it was such a great experience… The staff were great, the prices were very cheap, and they gave us chocolate frogs as part of the film experience”. But, then, Jessen R. continues as follows: “13 years later… the staff are nowhere as helpful, and now it just feels like the people working there are robots”. It could be said that this particular comment [and especially its reference to “robots”] seems to suggest that the Cineworld Cinema must have lost its more “homely atmosphere” through the years – while having to respect the sentiments of Jessen R., we should nonetheless say that the vast majority of patron comments do not really bear him out [cf. our notes above with respect to the “atmosphere” that has prevailed within the venue; and cf. our notes above regarding typical audience behaviour]. While the patron’s comments on the theatre’s operation across time remain valuable, they must be viewed with a certain skepticism, given what must be a tinge of patron nostalgia for things past as expressed therein.

Writing five years ago, patron Zahid Amin enumerates a list of complaints regarding the cinema’s condition and operation – he writes: “… filthy toilets, movies start late, forget [sic] to turn off the lights when the movie starts. No sound insulation, you can hear the movie next door. Managers are incompetent, utterly useless”.

The patron who signs as Min. A., and who writes four years ago, had a rather more agreeable experience on visiting Ilford’s Cineworld venue – we read: “My niece and I were pleasantly surprised!!! We had a meal at Sahan, the lovely Turkish restaurant in the same building… We did not encounter any of the negatives in the [Google] reviews…” Patron Sugandha Singh, also writing four years ago, similarly describes a fairly positive experience at the venue albeit with one interesting objection: “Good but doesn’t serve alcohol may be [sic] because of the area”. Singh is most probably referring to the cinema’s response to the heavy presence of Muslims in the area, who of course abstain from the consumption of alcohol. Yet another patron who writes four years ago is Sijo Jacob [and who has also been a patron of the Boleyn Cinema, cf. above] – he makes the following observation with respect to the seating of the Cineworld venue: “… VIP seats I think are a waste of money. The only difference is that the seats are made of leather”.

What follows is a list of patron comments all made three years ago:

• The patron who signs as Trooper ThatsAll feels an attachment to the Cineworld venue, seeing it as his own “local” cinema [cf. our notes above regarding the Cineworld Cinema as being primarily for locals] – and yet, he feels that [what he views as] the venue’s monopolistic position has allowed its operation to fall below acceptable standards [this patron, apparently, ignores the existence of the Boleyn Cinema in the same region]. Trooper ThatsAll writes of the Cineworld Cinema as follows: “It’s local to me – needs competition to keep them on their game”. His/her negative observations are presented in a general manner as follows: “The real issue is it’s run down, deliberate I don’t know, the managers seem not to care…” And he/she continues more specifically: “On several visits the sound in screen 8 and screen 2 had sound issues. They did tell the patrons before the showing on one screen, the other screening only appeared half way through”.

• Patron Tahir Mohamed also refers to the problematic sound system of the Cineworld Cinema – he writes: “Worst experience ever! The sound was terrible. Sometimes very loud and then few speaker[s] shut. Bass was gone”.

• The patron who signs as Bluecat Redcat describes a rather dramatic set of circumstances pertaining to the condition of the cinema’s premises – this is what he/she writes on taking his/her children to watch a movie there: “My daughter has caught a very bad rash on her body. I shall take her to see a GP and put a complaint through. I had read other [Google] reviews of there being bugs [in the cinema theatre] and I thought we will be ok how wrong I was. I made a very big mistake. I shall be formally complaining as this is very unaeccaptable [sic] low standards for a place where kids come to enjoy. The cinema is dirty…”

• Patron Biju Raj confirms the particular negative experience recorded by Bluecat Redcat – we read: “Yesterday I have been to a movie [at Cineworld] and there were too many bed bugs in the seats. And they bit my son’s hand which started to itch and swell. This is not good and not safe for anyone and God knows how many bugs entered my house now. Would request pet [viz. pest] service to investigate and take appropriate action to avoid this situation in future”.

• A patron by the name of Colin Holder – who is most probably not an Asian – also makes a comment somewhat confirming what has been recorded by both Bluecat Redcat and Biju Raj – he writes: “They [the managers of the Cineworld Cinema] need a health warning”.

• The final comment recorded three years ago is made by patron Amirul Hussain – what he writes tells us that the Cineworld canteen sells snacks that reflect at least some of the eating habits prevailing amongst the “cultural clusters” of the area [cf. Paper 4b with respect to ethnic-based eating habits in the region of East Ham]. Hussain writes: “Best thing about it [viz. the cinema] is they sell halal hot dogs”. This observation goes hand-in-hand with that of Sugandha Singh’s [cf. above], which informs us that Ilford’s Cineworld does not serve alcohol “because of the area”.

The comments that follow were recorded two years ago:

• Patron Talha Fazlani contrasts the present condition of the Cineworld premises to that of the past – he writes: “Used to look good 10+ years ago, but now it just looks dated and small…”

• Patron Charlene Whittington confirms Talha Fazlani’s observation when she writes: “… the cinema hasn’t been updated in probably 10 years very smelly toilets as well”. We should nonetheless note that such comments do not take into account the renovation that the Cineworld venue was to finally undergo [to be briefly dealt with further below].

• The patron who signs as Vlad Vld writes as follows: “I’ve been couple of times [to the cinema] but it’s getting worse… less staff… more mess… the sound was too loud at my last movie…”

• Patron Kunal Godbole records his own observations as follows: “… the screen and size of theatre is not very big and the most disappointing part is they don’t turn off some lights completely while playing the movie. Think that’s a problem with all Cineworld screens and is a downer”. It is of some interest to note that Kunal Godbole’s complaint about both the size of the screen and of the venue itself is not limited to one of the eleven screens constituting the multiplex at Ilford – it is a general statement covering all of Cineworld’s venues [yet again, we need remember the ultimate subjectivity of all comments discussed here].

• Patron Susan Majrooh also raises issues regarding the hygienic conditions of the cinema, this time pertaining to the snacks served at the canteen – she writes: “… the nachos, popcorn and drinks gave us all diarrhea and nausea… 2nd day later now and still feel ill… The hygiene is hideous”.

• The final comment recorded two years ago is of major interest as it describes the operation of Ilford’s Cineworld in a manner that raises the issue of “racism” as allegedly practiced within the venue, and which is supposed to be characteristic of “non-White” – or what are referred to as “immigrant” – areas within which a cinema is located. There are two points we need to make before presenting this rather controversial comment: Firstly, and precisely because the issue is so highly controversial, we cannot vouch for the accuracy of what is being said; secondly, it seems that this “racial” friction within the cinema must have taken place between a Hindu patron and a member of staff of Arab origin – the Hindu patron had felt somewhat estranged within the cinema, which is of course odd, given that the vast majority of Cineworld patrons are of Asian origin. In any case, this is what this definitely irregular patron, who signs as Girish, reports: “When I went to watch ‘Ant-man’ on 14.08.2018… the ticket checker named ‘Hassan’ I think, didn’t show eye contact because he was busy chatting with a female colleague. He just checked the ticket and continued chatting to the female colleague and without any eye contact or may be some nice words like ‘enjoy your movie’ etc. handed me the ticket. I felt a bit unwelcomed to be honest. Unfortunately, immigrant areas of the UK seem to have this issue mostly. I’ve never experienced this sort of treatment in Belfast Odeon or South Woodford Odeon. Almost all employees there were White, well behaved, well mannered, warm, smiley, welcoming, chatty etc.” [my emph.]. This comment, albeit of major interest given the possible implications of the observations made by the commentator, certainly raises a variety of questions that must remain open – we shall not attempt to delve into any of these at this point [our interest here is in any case focused on the condition and operation of Cineworld’s premises].

The comments that follow were recorded one year ago:

• Patron Ranjan Rao makes a comment which is of some significance as it compares an aspect of the Cineworld premises with that of cinemas in India – he writes as follows with respect to the question of seating: “Seats [at the Cineworld Cinema] are better than in India but for similar price one can get far better seats”.

• In contrast to some of the commentary presented above, Patron Subhrojit Shome writes as follows about Ilford’s Cineworld: “A multiplex with good sound systems located centrally in Ilford. It has 11 screens and the screen size is decent enough for a good movie experience”. As with other more positive commentary about the condition and operation of Cineworld’s premises, Shome’s observations may have been made following a certain renovation of the venue – on the other hand, this is not always reflected in commentaries recorded one year ago.

• Patron Piraveen Yasasvin records his own experiences at Cineworld as follows: “We went to watch… [a particular Bollywood film] 2 days ago and after 20 mins of film the sound was not working properly and they change the screen for us from screen 3 to 8. We had to wait 30 mins and watch the movie from the start. We changed screen and start to watch the movie and after the interval the sound was not working again!!”

• Nicky Singh simply informs us that the Cineworld’s “lifts are out of service most of the time…”

• Patron Amy Amy comes up with an especially scathing commentary – these are her impressions: “But I wish I had gone to another cinema! Dirty, trashy looking place (reminded me of the midget I dated from Ilford). Outside clean, inside dirty! Staff are polite but it felt like I’m in the supermarket while buying the ticket and snacks”.

• A patron who signs as Manlykrio makes the following, generally negative, observations: “It’s alright when u go in nice staff service but when u go in to watch your film it is terrible they don’t clean it properly their [sic] was a coke on my seat it was disgusting and I saw a mouse run to one side of the other [sic]…”

• As in the case of Manlykrio [but as also in the case of commentators such as Nicky Singh, cf. above, in the context of discussing audience behaviour within the Cineworld Cinema], a patron who signs as Panda Fitness points to the existence of rodents within the cinema’s theatres – he/she writes as follows: “Cleanliness of cinema could really be improved, I have heard rats squeaking multiple times during movies…”

• The question of hygiene is yet again brought up by a patron who identifies himself/herself as Crkria – the patron complains as follows: “… food hygiene poor/food poison every time I come here…” It is even suggested, rather perniciously, that the “staff have toxic breath”.

• While patron Crkria complains vehemently about the toxicity of snacks served at the Cineworld venue, it should also be pointed out that patrons have the right to bring their own snacks in any of the theatre halls, something which would not have been permitted in the case of the Boleyn Cinema [cf. above, where it has been said that Boleyn staff would even go so far as to search a patron’s bag for food brought into the cinema “illegally”]. Patrons such as Panda Fitness [including the patron who signs as Leanne] inform us that the Cineworld Cinema would place no prohibitions whatsoever on the bringing of food from outside its premises – as Panda Fitness notes: “Plus side is they allow you to bring your own snacks”.

• The final comment recorded one year ago is of great interest as it yet again touches on the issue of “racist” practices purportedly practiced within the Cineworld Cinema – it therefore clearly relates to the observations made by patron Girish above, and should be read side by side with these, always keeping in mind the various open questions that are raised by such types of remarks. A patron who signs as M.M. writes the following: “Awful experience. Went to watch a film but then one of the members of staff decided it would be funny to use a reference from Karate Kid because of my race as an Asian (East Asian). Funny how people in that area go on about ‘inclusion & diversity’ yet it is your racist staff who happens to be South Asian feels the need to make fun of other people’s races? Don’t be complain [sic] about racism when it happens to you. Will I return back to this cinema? NEVER. THANKS, next” [my emph.].

The patron who signs as Mad Poo, writing eleven months ago, records the following impressions: “Their service is bad and their food quality is appalling”.

Ten months ago, irregular patron Gabriel Radulescu writes: “One of the dirtiest and smelliest toilets seen so far… The cinema wasn’t the cleanest either with a lot of trash on the floors”.

A comment also recorded ten months ago – this time by a patron who signs as Anonymous – is highly critical of a particular member of staff who happens to be of Asian origin. The comment reads as follows: “Asian worker with scarf claims she’s [the] supervisor at Cineworld, very poor customer service and judgmental. Very prideful and arrogant…”

Finally, for a very regular local patron such as Charulatha Sanmathi, who records her comment nine months ago, Ilford’s Cineworld is the theatre for which she reserves a certain loyalty – and so she writes: “It’s a great place with 11 screens”. That does not mean, however, that she cannot be critical of its daily operation – she notes a number of drawbacks that are somewhat reminiscent of the manner in which the Boleyn Cinema has itself operated: “The only put off in the movies is that the movie doesn’t start at the time [sic] and delays for at least 15 minutes. The auditorium space is smaller and fits only about 100 people… The screen size is smaller than [the] average theatre”.

The renovation of the Cineworld Cinema

We know that the Ilford branch of the Cineworld chain would undergo a full renovation by 2018 [cf. https://www.gwcontracting.co.uk/cineworld-ilford]. As noted above, the Boleyn Cinema had undergone its own renovation in 2014-2015. We shall here merely present two patron comments on the renovation of the Ilford Cineworld venue.

Local patron Sujeendran Loganathan, writing two years ago, informs us as follows: “They just refurbished it… after 15 years…”

A very regular patron of Ilford’s Cineworld is someone who identifies himself/herself as Sumjim – he/she simply tells us that “after the renovation it looks good”.

The Ilford Cineworld compared to “Cineworld standards” generally

Patron Vaibhav Sharma, who records his comment five years ago, tells us that Ilford’s Cineworld is not his best choice of cinema venue in comparison to other Cineworld theatres. He writes that the Ilford venue is “Good for movie, [but] I personally prefer to go to Cineworld 02” [with respect to the latter venue, cf. above]. One of the many reasons that Vaibhav Sharma would not choose the Ilford venue as his best choice amongst Cineworld branches is the behaviour of its staff – he feels that “The [Ilford] staff had been very rude in the past”.

Writing four years ago, patron Sagar Kharel seems to be an admirer of all Cineworld chain cinemas. Like Vaibhav Sharma, however, he is dissatisfied with the members of staff at the Ilford branch. He writes as follows: “Cineworld is my favourite cinema. They have world class facilities and great customer service. I always visit to [sic] their 02 branch. But today I made a mistake of visiting Ilford branch. Full of uncivilized staffs [sic] who have no idea about customer service. The manager was even worse”.

A patron who signs as Min Puc, writing three years ago, simply informs us that the Ilford branch is the “Worst Cineworld cinema in London!!!”

Patron Talha Fazlani, who writes two years ago, has informed us that Ilford’s theatre looks “dated” and “small” [cf. above] – he says this is “especially [so] when compared to Vue Westfield Stratford” [as regards this cinema, cf. above].

The following comments were recorded exactly one year ago:

• A patron by the name of Ferdin A. Napoleon, and who does not seem to belong to the Asian community, expresses his sentiments about the Ilford branch very bluntly as follows: “Worst Cineworld…”

• Patron Imran Haq also compares the Ilford branch to other Cineworld theatres rather unfavourably – he writes that it is “A bit dated compared to a lot of Cineworld sites…”

• The patron who signs as Synical compares the Ilford venue with other Cineworld venues as negatively as do others – he/she writes: “Not nearly as good as their other branches like Leicester Square or 02 or Wandsworth”.

• The patron who identifies himself/herself as Iceze notes as follows regarding the Ilford branch: “Seating ok, although not as good as some other Cineworlds”.

Finally, writing nine months ago, a patron who signs as Manu Grill, observes the following: “Washrooms cleanliness not as per Cineworld standards”.

The Cineworld Cinema – ticket prices

We have already quoted Jessen R. [cf. above], who informs us that when Ilford’s Cineworld first opened its doors to the local community by May 2002, its “prices were very cheap”. Recording his comment six years ago, he goes on to state that “13 years later and the prices have shot up”. He explains: “A standard adult ticket on the weekend is now £10 and £7 for a child. Yes ok it’s not too much, but for a family, an odd £35 for 90 minutes of fun is pushing it maybe?” Parenthetically, we should note here that, although Jessen R.’s figures may be accurate for the time that he is writing, we should nonetheless keep in mind the ticket prices as recorded above and based on https://www.cineworld.co.uk – yet still, the point he makes as regards the sum of money a family is obliged to spend over the weekend at Cineworld remains important, and it underlines the fact that the Ilford theatre has been more of the upmarket type in contrast to the Boleyn Cinema [cf. above]. Jessen R. adds further: “But even the prices of their popcorn and snacks are pretty crazy too, really pushing their ‘no food from outside’ rule to be severely tested by those looking to save a little” [we should also point out here that, at least according to some patrons commenting one year ago – such as the patron who signs as Panda Fitness, cf. above – the rule prohibiting the bringing of food from outside the cinema would no longer apply].

Patron Tarlock Singh, who went to Ilford’s Cineworld to watch a particular Bollywood movie of his choice, made the following comment three years ago: “And my cinema ticket was over £11.00 what a joke”.

The following comments were recorded one year ago:

• Patron Subhrojit Shome gives us an idea of the sum of money one would have to spend on snacks sold at Ilford’s Cineworld – he informs us that “A regular popcorn and a coke takes you back by £8”. Assuming that Shome visited the Ilford branch by himself, he would have paid a sum total of £19.00 to watch the movie of his choice [with the standard ticket price for adults at £11]. One may extrapolate the amount of money a patron would have to spend were he to have visited the Cineworld Cinema with his family and friends [though we should also note here that the cinema would offer ticket prices for the family as a unit at £20.00 – cf. above].

• The patron who signs as Leanne observes that “Prices (with food and drink) get a bit pricy, so I would recommend buying popcorn and snacks from a different place”.

• The patron who signs as Panda Fitness also informs us that “food is overpriced”.

Writing nine months ago, patron Charulatha Sanmathi tells us about the “Unlimited card” that the Cineworld Cinema would offer to locals, whereby they could watch whatever films they wished and for as many times as they wished throughout a particular period of time, so long as they paid a certain sum of money to join the category of a Cineworld “Unlimited member”. Sanmathi writes: “Cineworld also offers an unlimited card for watching unlimited movies all the year at £19 per month”. Patron Sunny Jutla, also writing nine months ago, further comments on the “Unlimited card” – she writes as follows: “… The price of the Cineworld unlimited card is becoming very expensive I’m afraid it may reach £22 by 2 years time”. As regards snacks, Jutla adds: “Popcorn and nachos are amazing but I feel the prices are crazy. I would suggest reducing the costs…”

Patron Alan Sounthararajah, who records his comment seven months ago, tells us that Ilford’s Cineworld is a “Bit pricey but good service”.

Finally, patron Shezaad Malik, writing four months ago, is of the impression that the Cineworld Cinema is “Too expensive”.

•••

Thus far, our study of ethnic-based cinemagoing practices in the region of East Ham and its environs has above all attempted to present what we may refer to as the “hard data” describing the venues of the Boleyn Cinema and Ilford’s Cineworld Cinema. As we have seen, such “hard data” have been the merely subjective impressions recorded by the patrons of these two theatres. This, apparently, sounds paradoxical: how be it possible that subjectivity is here presented as “hard”, empirical objectivity? Our approach is based on the premise that people’s impressions, however prejudiced or contradictory these may be, constitute their own, “hard” reality of the things that circumscribe them. These impressions do not [and are not meant to] explain such reality – they simply tell us how people “live” it. This approach, however, would raise a central problem: how may one explain that which is described? Our response to this problem posits yet another paradox: we take it as a given that whatever attempts at an explanation of the “lived” reality of people can only but be biased, at least in the sense of being interpreted through the inevitable distortions of whatever theoretical – not to say political – lenses. In fact, one may go so far as to assert that it is the theoretical explanation of a “lived” reality that constitutes the “soft underbelly” of that type of research work – it is precisely here that the real, often naïve, subjectivity of the “academic” is to be located in such work.

To put this in a nutshell, we may simply say that people’s subjective impressions of things tell us more of reality [however piecemeal and contradictory] than does the supposed “objectivity” of theoretical contraptions that have in any case come and gone throughout the history of sociology. Now, keeping such important caveat in mind, we shall nonetheless attempt to “explain” the subjective impressions presented thus far through a critical review of some of the existing sociological studies around the phenomenon of Bollywood, as also through our own attempt to interpret this phenomenon by examining some of the content of movies produced by this genre. In the process, we shall not abstain from adding extra “empirical data” to our study of the Bollywood phenomenon. In the forthcoming Paper 4e, we shall therefore be presenting the following sections that conclude our study of cinemagoing practices in the region of East Ham [and cf. our introductory notes above, regarding the “work method” employed in this paper]:

• The function of Bollywood in the UK: a cultural bonding of ethnic “cultural clusters”

• An examination of a sample of Bollywood movies screened in the UK, and especially in the Boleyn and Cineworld venues

• The UK’s Muslim community and its relation to the Bollywood phenomenon

• The Bollywood phenomenon in the UK – other dimensions apart from cinemagoing practices [by way of an appendix]

[cf. forthcoming Paper 4e].

The post 4d – LONDON: SETTLERS, COCKNEYS, AND THE “CITY TYPE”: THE CASE OF “LITTLE INDIA” – EAST HAM appeared first on Greek Social & Literary Review - Ελληνική Κοινωνική & Λογοτεχνική Επιθεώρηση.

By Antonia Gounaropoulou

Translated by Panagiotis Tourikis

 “The horses! The horses! Kids, come see the horses!”

The kids abandoned their bikes, dropped their stones, marbles and chalks, scurrying to be the first to climb the stairs – and reached the road, there where the wide iron gate would soon be placed and where parents, aunties and uncles had all flocked. Two horses, one white and the other brown, were descending the slope in a light gallop right before their eyes, while a thin ugly boy was running behind in a sweat, cursing with words that kids ought not to hear – though they already had.

“Oh dear!” exclaimed an aunt, and made as if to hide behind the men while the horses were approaching Makedonomahon Street and turning uphill.

“Eeeeee! Brrrr! Brrrr!” the boy spat, all blowzed and running behind the horses.

The little girl clutched onto someone’s trousers and gazed from between the legs of adults. The horses were stunningly beautiful, huge and terrifying. In a moment they had dropped out of sight. But the thin ugly boy with that “Brrrr! Brrrr!” on his fat lips had lingered on, as it took him a while to sprint all the way downhill and follow the horses along the street.

All the grown-ups were laughing. The girl could see the boy before her eyes, even when it was no longer there.

***

The next time round she saw him at the creek shepherding geese. Being all alone, she was startled. The girl had jumped over the fence, crossed the dry little river – just skipping over it – and had then climbed up the finest of the three fig trees. But she’d feel the figs hard, still like small pebbles. She came down, gazed around her, kneeled at the dry river bank and was watching intently amongst the large boulders in case she’d spot the carapace of some tortoise. And then, somewhere to the right of her, she caught sight of a bird resembling a duck though with longer legs and a longer neck. She stood up, took a closer look and spotted a second one. Stepping cautiously, she examined the birds with a great sobriety as they waddled on the soil and stretched out their neck as if wishing to loosen up – until just a few more steps ahead she found herself facing the ugly boy.

Squatting on the dry yellow weeds, he was staring at her mockingly. The girl didn’t feel uneasy about that. She well knew what “mocking” was all about. Her brother and her own mom had often looked at her that way, and she too had done the same with her cousins. But this wasn’t simply being given a mocking look. This was also something else, which the girl didn’t know how it was called but could recognize. It was something that made her feel ashamed and threatened, terribly threatened, but had no name for it. Unconsciously, she glanced behind her. It was noontime, both her brother and her cousins were asleep and her parents at home. She was all by herself. And she felt a wish that at least it wouldn’t be summer and that she’d be in her winter clothes.

The thin boy with the small face and thick lips was smiling like a man. His bulgy eyes were ogling at the girl’s arms fleetingly, vigorously, then turned to her legs beneath the shorts, and the geese nearby were walking and stretching their neck, walking and stretching their neck. The girl sensed that the boy was stretching his neck right at her, and at the end of that neck a small hideous face with thick lips was preparing to bite her body, disemboweling it.

The boy spurted out a word the little girl had heard from her uncles but only as an unintelligible joke, and he went on to add, “May I be your servant, can I lick it for you?”

Noontime. The figs were still hard like small pebbles. The geese had now drawn closer to her and were hissing with that beak at the end of their lowered, outstretched neck. The girl could sense the danger. She felt the urge to scream “Mommyyyyy!” But was tongue-tied, and screamed nothing.

It wasn’t out of courage that she remained motionless – her legs had simply frozen. She was looking at the boy in the eye, for so her stare was fixed, and wouldn’t dare look away terrified that things could change, with the boy getting up and coming even closer to her.

“No” she said.

And then the boy got up. The girl sucked her lips in, her chest, her tummy. A nightmare it was. Like when she couldn’t wake up whenever she dreamt someone chasing after her. This time he’d catch her and he’d…

The bulgy eyes on the microscopic face were furious.

“Fuck you!...” he  bellowed. And then “Brrrr! Sssss! Sssss!”

And he came in great strides right over the petrified girl, gathered round his two geese and flustering them made a roundabout turn to goad them in the direction of the little bridge.

The girl remained stock-still until she’d no longer see either geese or boy. Next, looking over her shoulder every now and then, did not jump over the fence. She ran through the neighbouring plot of land, made it to Makedonomahon Street and opened the iron gate. She rushed inside the house and found her mom in the living room bent over the ironing board.

“Where were you?” her mother asked.

“By the little river”, the child said and dashed to cuddle herself round her mom’s legs.

“Shoo!” said her mother, “you’ll get burnt”.

The girl stole an extra moment stuck on her mom’s legs, and then retreated to her room.

She stood in front of the mirror staring at her arms. Taking a step back, she looked at her legs beneath her shorts. And then raised her eyes to her face. To the image of her lips.

“Brrrr!” she said, and saw the lips swell up, becoming revolting as they smacked upon each other, spitting and all deforming her.

She remained silent for a while. And then went:

“Brrrrrrrr! Sssssssss! Brrrrrrrr!”

The post “Geese” appeared first on Greek Social & Literary Review - Ελληνική Κοινωνική & Λογοτεχνική Επιθεώρηση.

Translated by Panagiotis Tourikis

There was once a hunter who lived in the wild forests all alone. He didn’t care for the company of humans, he found them all liars, and so had withdrawn from the world. But he also didn’t care for the company of animals, for these he found dumb, and so wouldn’t spend his time with animals either, unless he went hunting.

One afternoon, while the hunter was working his way through dense foliage at the back ridge of the mountain, he found himself directly facing two large, dark eyes staring at him. He dug his feet on the ground and remained still. Right before him there was a wild wolf, the size of a horse, his snout reaching up to the hunter’s face. They stood there for a while eyeing one another, both surprised by the other’s presence, but finally the hunter said:

“You are not like the other animals.”

And in a hoarse voice, the wolf responded:

“You too are not like the other humans.”

“Come stay with me in my shack, let’s live together like everlasting comrades, and we can spend time talking in the evenings,” the hunter invited him, and went on, “I have no one to talk to, for humans are liars and animals are dumb.”

“I cannot stay with you,” the wolf said. “I too know that humans are liars and that animals are dumb, yet it’s easier to find a trace of intelligence in a dumb animal than to find a trace of honesty in a lying human.”

The hunter was deeply impressed by what the wolf had said, and straight away thought how interesting his evenings would truly be, if he’d spend them with such a smart talker.

“Come stay with me,” he repeated, “and I who am a human shall tell you more about humans than what you already know, and so you’ll become even smarter than what you are.”

That was something the wolf liked. He was an exceptionally bright animal, who loved learning new things. But before accepting the hunter’s invitation, he had this to ask him:

“First explain to me a word you’ve used, which I can’t understand. You say that we’ll live like ‘everlasting comrades’. What do you mean by ‘comrades’?”

The hunter laughed.

“How obvious it is that you’re really wild, and that you’ve never lived in a wolf pack,” he said. “But of course, that’s why you’re so different. Well, then, ‘comrades’ are two creatures that believe absolutely in one another, care absolutely for one another and absolutely love each other.”

“And what does ‘absolutely’ mean?”, the wolf continued, enthused by so many new things he was learning.

The hunter laughed again.

“That means to believe, to care and to love your comrade so deeply that you would even be prepared to die for his sake.”

The wolf narrowed his eyes, and for a while looked at his new friend without talking.

“Fine…,” he haltingly said at the end. “I like it. I want us to live together like comrades.”

And they both returned to the hunter’s shack and henceforth started living together as comrades do.

*

A span of time rolled by and there came an evening which at first seemed like all those other evenings, when the two comrades would be so beautifully and so lovingly together. The hunter returned from his hunting, and so did the wolf from his, and they both went out to sit on the shack’s wide doorstep.

“I believe I saw panther spoor up on the mountain,” the hunter said.

The wolf agreed.

“Indeed. I too have seen the traces, and I’ve even caught his scent. He’s been moving around our territory these last few days, yet so far I’ve never had the chance to meet him. But he’s certainly huge and powerful.”

“Oh, is that so?,” quipped the hunter. “But he’s definitely not as powerful as you.”

The wolf was pleased that the hunter believed in him.

“I’m not afraid,” he said. “I sure can overpower him.”

“Sure,” the hunter agreed, and kept quiet.

For a while they sat back and listened to the sounds of the forest, until at some point the wolf sensed a distress in the man beside him.

“What is troubling you, comrade?,” he asked with much concern.

Taking a deep breath, the hunter turned and looked at the wolf straight in the eyes.

“You know… I’m certain that if you happen to come across that panther, you can sure outmatch him. But still, if you only fought him with your claws and teeth – who can tell – you could find yourself in a moment of mortal danger. That’s why I’d like to give you my one and only gun, for I’d prefer myself to die hunting, rather than you. I beg of you, don’t say no.”

Tears welled up in the wolf’s eyes, seeing how much the hunter loved him. But he couldn’t bear the thought that his comrade would be exposed to the dangers of the forest.

“No, my friend, no,” replied the wolf, deeply moved. “Let me take the risk, I don’t want you to be in greater danger than I.”

But the hunter explained to him that there is no greater joy in the world than giving to one’s own comrade, and that its denial brings the greatest sorrow. On hearing this, the wolf was convinced he should go out with the hunter’s weapon the following day.

*

And so next morning the wolf slung the rifle over his shoulder, bid his friend farewell, and headed as usual for the back ridge of the mountain. But he was troubled, for he knew that the hunter would now be going out without his weapon.

Some while later on the ridge, the wolf heard footsteps, sniffed the air and immediately picked up the smell of the panther. It was all too close. That was dangerous – but he had with him his comrade’s rifle. He unslung it, stood erect on his hind feet, grasped it with his forelegs, checked it and called to mind the hunter’s instructions on how to use it. And yet the smell had already virtually enveloped him, the footsteps echoing almost at arm’s length and, suddenly, the hungry panther appeared from behind a bush. It all happened within a split second. Holding the weapon as he did, the wolf could neither run nor attack. The panther pounced on him with a mighty growl, latched himself with his claws onto the wolf’s back, and bit him deep in the neck. Reeling and in pain, the wolf remembered that his comrade was also hunting on the back ridge.

“Comrade, help!,” he called out with his dwindling strength.

And then he heard a tramping of feet, and while collapsing to the ground saw the hunter rush to the spot. He was taking aim at the panther with a second rifle. Taken aback by the presence of the human, the panther abandoned its prey, receded and stood still with ears dropped back.

“Thank goodness you have another rifle,” groaned the wolf in pain. “Shoot him, comrade…”

But, to his astonishment, he heard the hunter address the panther behind the barrel of his gun, and he was saying:

“You’re courageous, you were able to subdue such an enormous wolf. You are not like the other animals.”

“And neither do you resemble the other humans,” growled the panther, and in a flash the wounded wolf brooded yet once more on what humans are and what are animals.

“No… don’t do that…,” bellowed the wolf, just as the hunter was turning his gun straight at him, pressing the trigger.

*

Since then, the hunter often takes to asking himself: who was the wolf speaking to in his final moments – him or the panther?

From the collection of short stories Hunters and Wolves, Athens: Patakis Publishers 2017

Diakopto, Achaea, Autumn 2020

The post “The hunter and the wolf” appeared first on Greek Social & Literary Review - Ελληνική Κοινωνική & Λογοτεχνική Επιθεώρηση.

ETHNIC-BASED ATTIRE

As one walks around the streets of East Ham and its environs, one notices that its locals are dressed in a manner expressive of the “cultural clusters” to which they happen to belong. In this paper, we shall focus exclusively on the ethnic-based attire worn by many – though not all – of the locality’s dwellers. The choice of such attire raises a number of pivotal questions that could be said to be directly related to issues of “ethnic integration”, “multiculturalism” and/or some form of “Apartheid” as practiced in the UK. Although discussing a person’s choice of attire appears to be – at first sight – a fairly simple matter, it does raise major questions such as the following [all of which shall be examined in some detail below]:

• To what extent is it accurate to say that an average member of East Ham’s ethnic “cultural clusters” dresses according to stereotypes determined by brands of a “globalized” fashion industry?

• Is it true to say that the impact of such “globalized” fashion industry is a mere “myth” when it comes to the specific manner of dress adopted by large swathes of East Ham’s “cultural clusters”?

• Is it not, rather, some form of what we may call “ethno-globalization” [for instance, the specific influence of India’s own “Bollywood” culture] that naturally has a much deeper impact on some of East Ham’s ethnic “settlers”?

• Further, and definitely much more saliently, is it not accurate to argue that even the impact of such “ethno-globalization” [disseminated through the importation of upmarket ready-made clothes from India] may be limited to particular social strata within ethnic communities that possess the necessary economic capacity to participate in such fashion trends?

• What role does the factor of relative poverty [evident amongst certain strata of East Ham’s “cultural clusters”] play in determining people’s choice of attire? To what extent does that economic factor undermine the impact of an “ethno-globalized” fashion industry while fostering a culture of clothing that springs more directly from the locality’s “cultural cluster” itself?

• As we shall see below, it has been argued that members of an ethnic-based “cultural cluster” tend to seek the “safety” of the socio-spatial nexus to which they belong, and do so in the face of the “uneven” and “destructive” impact of “globalization” [the need for such “safety” may arise for reasons other than those related to “globalization” – for instance, the possibly hostile relations with other “cultural clusters” dwelling in their environs]. If that be the case, what role does the need for a self-survivalist “safety” play in reinforcing the cultural milieu – and hence the respective dress codes – of a specific “cultural cluster” within the East Ham region? To what extent does that further undermine the impact of “ethno-globalized” fashion trends amongst certain social strata of the locality?

• As we shall further see below, it has been observed that there has been a growing resistance, especially on the part of female members of various “cultural clusters” [within the UK, though also elsewhere around the world], to “Western influences” in clothing. Such resistance may be explained in terms of the “pull factor” exerted on people by the aesthetics of the local cultural milieu of a “cultural cluster”. Keeping that in mind, we shall need to investigate the extent to which such aesthetics – and as these are embedded in the cultural and racial values of an ethnic group – have come to overshadow the “elite designs” of “global” or “ethno-global” entrepreneurs. Alternatively, one may examine the extent to which “global” commercial and/or “cultural” actors often need to adjust to local contexts.

• Within the general framework established by the manner in which questions such as the above are answered – and these questions can only be answered through empirical research – one may further proceed to investigate the matter of imported, ready-made clothes from India and the extent to which such items have to be “recontextualized” within the UK’s own “ethnic circuits” in ways that reflect the needs of the local cultural milieu. Put otherwise, we shall need to investigate the extent to which the designs of India’s ready-made clothes have to be adapted to local specifications. And further, and to the extent that such adaptation does in fact occur, we shall need to investigate how that is done, practically speaking.

• Apart from the matter of imported, ready-made clothes, we shall also need to investigate the fairly widespread practices of tailoring undertaken by local clothes enterprises in the region of East Ham, and how such practices can undermine the brand designs promoted by “global” or “ethno-global” fashion markets. Related to such local tailoring practices, one may also examine the phenomenon of the self-designing of clothes – again a fairly common initiative undertaken by members [usually female] of East Ham’s “cultural clusters”. Here too, the question of the undermining or refashioning of “global” stereotypes in attire worn by UK’s ethnic minorities shall have to be considered.

• Apart from examining the practices of local tailoring and customer self-designing – and how these may or may not compromise the dictates of the “globalized” or “ethno-globalized” clothes industry – we shall also need to consider the role of the East End’s own traditional clothing industry, much of which is run by ethnic minority entrepreneurs and operated by ethnic minority employees. The question we shall need to investigate here is why this local industry has been able to survive in the face of imported goods, and the implications of such local competitiveness as regards local cultural aesthetics [versus “globalized” aesthetics].

• Ultimately, all such issues may allow us to answer the central most important question that concerns this paper on ethnic-based attire as a cultural practice of “cultural clusters” sited in localities such as East Ham – viz. is there a sense in which the wearing of particular clothes by certain ethnic minorities attains an existential meaning that stands in contradistinction to the cultural practices pertaining to the attire of the average White Briton? Could one say, for instance – and as it has already been asserted by some analysts – that attire worn by members of ethnic “cultural clusters” can be very “semiotically charged” or “powerfully coded”? And further, may one argue that a certain type of clothing worn by members of these “clusters” constitutes a religious-based “signifier of difference” whereby the wearer wishes to communicate specific ideo-religious principles to others? And most importantly, is it accurate to say that the choice of such clothing – precisely as a “signifier of difference” – is deliberately meant to set one “cultural cluster” apart from, though not necessarily against, other “clusters”?

Dealing with such questions naturally raises the issue of a possible grassroots-based social “Apartheid” in certain geographical localities of the UK. But it would be impossible to even attempt to approach such reality without first gathering and systematizing a variety of empirical data around the matter of ethnic-based attire within the specific region of East Ham. Our research work enables us to focus on the following set of data:

• A presentation of the various clothes shops concentrated in East Ham’s High Street, though also in the wider region of East Ham – and especially with respect to shops lined along Green Street. The clothes shop by the name of Daminis [or, more accurately, Daminis London] may be taken as one possible case-study of an Asian “fashion store” situated in the heart of the Asian community within the wider region of East Ham – we may do this because useful research work on this outlet has already been undertaken by at least one social analyst.

• A survey of the different types of ethnic attire worn in a locality such as East Ham – we shall have to especially focus on the Salwar Kameez Suits, but also on Sarees, Hijabs, Abayas, Sherwanis and many other related clothes and accessories. The important domain of ethnic wedding and engagement practices shall also be touched on, and how these inevitably relate to the buying of particular garments.

• An examination of the various price ranges attached to different categories of ethnic clothing, and the implications of this with respect to consumer buying power [the latter, of course, being one determinant of either upmarket or downmarket consumption and which could perhaps allow us to demarcate the type of clothes consumption according to class position within the community]. It would be useful to keep such data in mind when discussing the factor of poverty, and how this factor may determine a person’s access to or exclusion from the “ethno-globalized” fashion trends mentioned above.

• An examination of the degree of “customer exploitation” taking place in the clothes shops of East Ham, and the role of the negotiation of prices between shop owner and customer.

• The quality of products sold by clothes shops in the area – the updating of fashion trends, or the lack of any such updating, and the implications of such practices.

• The customer service offered in the clothes shops of the locality, and especially the role of ethnic staff in such venues, and the implications of this.

The clothes shops in the region of East Ham

Our purpose here is not to provide a comprehensive list of the various clothes shops operating along High Street or Green Street – various outlets will in any case be referred to as we go along in discussing the different aspects of ethnic-based attire in the locality. Here, we shall merely present some of the more characteristic features of the area’s network of clothes shops.

The Indian Business Directory UK [cf. https://www.indianbusinessdirectory.co.uk] gives us some idea of the types of attire that East Ham’s clothing outlets specialize in – we read: “Indian/Pakistani clothes shops in East Ham region of Newham in East London specializing in Punjabi Suits, Salwar Kameez, Bridal Lehengas, Sherwanis, Saree, Ghagra Cholis, Kuti Tops, Anarkali Suits, and Bollywwod clothes”.

We intend to discuss some of these types of exclusively ethnic attire further below. It should also be noted that the Directory does not differentiate between “Indian” and “Pakistani” clothes shops in the area – it subsumes both into one category, and we shall attempt to investigate the possible implications of this below.

Throughout this project, we have presented East Ham’s High Street – and especially High Street North – as being the market hub of the locality: as in the case of food outlets [cf. Paper 4b], one shall also find a variety of ethnic clothes shops that are so characteristic of “Little India”. But when it comes to clothes shops in the area, one cannot avoid mentioning the case of Green Street as well, a road which is said to form much of the boundary between East and West Ham. As has already been alluded to, we find that – here too – there is a noteworthy concentration of Asian clothes shops along Green Street. If only because little to nothing has thus far been mentioned regarding this part of the East Ham region, we shall here present a number of observations about its ethnic clothing outlets [with respect to the area around Green Street, cf. John Rogers, “Through Forest Gate to Upton Park – Farewell Boleyn”, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ISE_a-PuxU, 04.12.2016].

Potential customers looking for the most appropriate outlets where they could buy clothing items such as Sarees often discuss their preferences based on personal experiences – many would opt for shops along Green Street. Consider the following observations made on the Tripadvisor website under the rubric “Looking for Indian shop – saris, etc.”, recorded about eleven years ago: “I second Green Street, which has the most sari shops (and Indian shops in general) I have seen in London. It’s easy to get to Upton Park on the District Line. Green Street is also reputed to be the cheapest shopping street in London” [cf. https://www.tripadvisor.com].

Yet another potential customer has this to say about clothes shops along or near the Green Street area: “My husband is South Indian (Tamil) and when we go looking for all things Indian in London we go to these areas of London [viz. in the vicinity of Green Street]… East Ham (Sri Lankan Hindu area) is good… lots of sari and gold shops – this is near Green St. which also has lots of Asian shops…” [ibid.].

An important feature of the ethnic-based clothes outlets along Green Street is the well-known East Shopping Centre [located at 232-236 Green Street, London – cf. its website, https://www.eastshoppingcentre.com]. Said to be Europe’s first all-Asian shopping mall, this complex of shops is divided into “Units”, these being ethnic-owned enterprises specializing in the selling of Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi ethnic attire. According to Nabila Pathan, writing for Al Arabiya News: “The indoor boutique Asian shopping centre, opened with a soft launch first in January this year [2015]. The new centre has been constructed on a one-acre plus site where a former bus depot was located, considered a landmark in the area. Developers have ensured that the shopping centre maintains its original front face. The mall consists of 35 two-storey shop units and for smaller traders, a 17-unit souk [viz. an Arab-like market-place or bazaar] as well as a large food court” [cf. Nabila Pathan, “Saris, souks and silk: Europe’s ‘first Asian shopping mall’ opens”, https://www.english.alarabiya.net, 30.03.2015].

In examining the different aspects of ethnic attire below, we shall be making use of data pertaining to a number of clothes outlets based in the East Shopping Centre, such as Malika London [Unit 29 within the mall] and Zarkan of London [Units 3-5]. A customer reviewing the latter outlet [cf. https://www.googlereviews.com – all customer reviews presented throughout this paper have been retrieved from this source, unless otherwise stated] would make the following interesting comments regarding the whole of the Centre and the area in which it is located: “New. Shiny. It’s where an old overground station used to be so there’s plenty of space in there. As it’s mainly an Asian dominated area it caters for Asian women’s fashion quite well… but unfortunately there is little else there to attract any other demographic [sic]. Worth looking in if you’re in the area for sure but I wouldn’t travel to it unless you are looking at getting Asian fashion items” [my emph.]. We notice that the commentator’s observations focus on the issue of ethnic exclusivity prevailing in both the vicinity and the mall.

Such prevalence of the ethnic element – as also the exclusivity that goes with it – is also reflected in the manner in which the East Shopping Centre has been promoting itself. Since its establishment, it has been organizing a series of promotional campaigns all of which attest to and confirm an attachment to specific ethno-cultural paradigms. This, of course, is absolutely natural: since it caters for an Asian clientele that opts for exclusively ethnic attire, the Centre’s promotional campaigns can only but be ethnic-based cultural “events”. It could be argued, however, that such “events” point to a tight connection between ethnic attire and cultural identity – and could therefore be said to confirm the “cultural semiosis” and the “signification of difference” applying to ethnic clothing in general [as we have suggested above]. At this point, we do not intend to deal with the Centre’s promotional “events” in whatever analytical manner meant to throw light on such issues, nor shall we examine the extent to which these “events” are expressive of either an “ethno-global” or a “local” cultural manifestation – we shall here merely present such “events” so as to give us some descriptive idea of the connections that may pertain between ethnic-based attire and ethnic-based identity [of course, that type of analysis shall definitely be attempted further below].

The East Shopping Centre’s website informs us that, on March 15, 2016, the Centre would organize a series of “events” meant to celebrate the first anniversary of its establishment. According to the website: “East Shopping Centre celebrated its first anniversary with an afternoon of music, food, family activities and of course a stunning display of Asian fashion… The fun-filled day saw live performances from international music stars, Juggy D, and Mumzy Stranger, live make-up demos from the Lubna Rafiq Academy, dance workshops from Absolute Bollywood… Crowds at East Shopping Centre danced throughout the afternoon to Juggy D, the self styled Punjabi Rockstar…”

It would be useful to note here some basic biographical details on these two “music stars” who participated in the Centre’s anniversary celebrations [we intend to deal with East Ham’s ethnic-based music trends in a forthcoming paper]. So-called “Juggy D” is a Punjabi rock star whose real name is Jagwinder Singh Dhaliwal. He was born in 1981 in Southall, West London, a suburban district often referred to as “Little Punjab” [given the overwhelming presence of Punjabis in the area]. He usually sings in the Punjabi language and one of the main music genres that has characterized his work is that of “Bhangra”, a type of popular grassroots music closely associated with UK’s Punjabi “settler” population. Likewise, so-called “Mumzy Stranger” – whose real name is Muhammad Mumith Ahmed – is a local Newham rapper of Bangladeshi descent. He was born in 1984 to Bengali Muslim parents in Plaistow, a district of Newham. This rapper’s main fan base is to be found in the localities of Newham itself, and most of his songs are in the Bengali, Punjabi, Hindi and Arabic languages.

In the course of his visit to the East Shopping Centre, Mumzy Stranger would make a number of public comments meant to promote the activities of the Centre – this is how the website [op. cit.] puts it: “Singer Mumzy Stranger, a local East Londoner, said: ‘It’s great to have East Shopping Centre here on Green Street, which has long been a business hub for the vibrant Asian community in this area. It’s the perfect place for Europe’s first Asian shopping centre and it has attracted over a million people to the area in just its first year’…”

As noted above, the East Shopping Centre’s first anniversary celebrations would also involve the participation of the Lubna Rafiq Academy and Absolute Bollywood Ltd. Very briefly, we may simply note that the former is an enterprise that trains people in the techniques of specifically Asian makeup and hair “artistry”; the latter organizes workshops in Indian dance techniques. Both seem to be rather popular institutions amongst members of the middle classes belonging to the UK’s Asiatic “cultural clusters”.

Finally, it is of some interest to note that the East Shopping Centre had invited Lyn Brown, MP for West Ham, to attend the 2016 celebrations. He was present as “chief guest”.

All succeeding promotional “events” organized by the East Shopping Centre would further express dimensions of ethnic culture and identity closely related to the ethnic attire that the Centre’s “Units” trade to their ethnic-based clientele. On August 22, 2016, a popular Bollywood actor would visit the Centre. The website informs us as follows: “Star Anil Kapoor visits East Shopping Centre… Over the weekend East Shopping Centre had the pleasure to welcome thousands of guests to greet Bollywood & Hollywood actor Anil Kapoor…” The reference here is to a Mumbai-born Indian actor who has mainly starred in Hindi-language films.

By 2017, and again as part of its promotional “events”, the Centre would welcome Rahat Fateh Ali Khan to its premises. According to the Centre’s website: “East Shopping Centre, Europe’s first purpose-built boutique Asian shopping centre, welcomed legendary qawwali singer-songwriter, Rahat Fateh Ali Khan on Wednesday 6th September 2017”. Rahat happens to be one of Pakistan’s biggest stars – he is a Pakistani “Qawwali” musician and has also sung Pakistani nationalist songs [cf. M.A. Sheikh, Who’s Who: Music in Pakistan, Xlibris Corporation, 2012]. As regards the “Qawwali” repertoire, we may simply note that it is a devotional music of the Muslim Sufis. Apart from his major work in such Muslim Sufi devotional songs, Rahat has also been popular as a playback singer in both Bollywood and the Pakistani film industry. He was born into a Punjabi family of Qawwals in Faisalabad, Punjab, Pakistan.

The inexorably tight relationship between the Centre’s ethnic-based clothes trading and its embracement of the cultural practices of specific “cultural clusters” would also manifest itself in a variety of other ways – we mention a few such examples in passing. In 2018, the Centre would be the main sponsor of the Indian community’s most important annual beauty pageant in the UK. According to its website: “We’re proud to announce that East Shopping Centre is the official sponsor of Miss India UK”. The event would take place towards the end of the year, on December 1. Keeping in mind the central importance of the institution of marriage within UK’s Asian community [which we intend to further touch on below], the Centre would play a major role in organizing the annual “Asiana Wedding Weekend” for 2019. This event would occur on Saturday, April 27 and Sunday, April 28 of that year. Similarly, it would sponsor the “Asiana Bridal Show London 2020”, which would take place on Sunday, January 26. The website states: “We’re proud to announce that East Shopping Centre is the official Catwalk Sponsor of the Asiana Bridal Show London”.

As already mentioned above, we do not at this stage intend to draw whatever general conclusions from the East Shopping Centre’s periodic cultural activities – data provided here may begin to make much more sense when placed within the general framework regarding ethnic-based attire which we shall be presenting below.

Now, yet another important complex of ethnic-based clothes shops in the area has been that of the East Ham Market Hall, situated along Myrtle Road [it is a six-minute drive from High Street North, and less than a ten-minute drive from Green Street]. Unlike the East Shopping Centre – which one would say is an example of mostly upmarket Asian fashions – the Market Hall has mainly served the downmarket consumer segments of various “cultural clusters” in the locality. It is a landmark of the region, having been established back in the 1920’s and thus forms part of the “ancient” history of the “cockney milieu” period [it is currently being redeveloped – cf. https://www.newhamrecorder.co.uk, 13.06.2019].

The East Ham Market Hall has been run by members of the locality’s “settler” – or immigrant – population. A visitor to the Market Hall describes activities therein all too accurately – we read: “This is a very old and traditional market hall based in East Ham. It’s a mix of traditional East End businesses and stalls run by various immigrants. The stalls are all under cover and range from Delis [viz. delicatessens] to shops selling silk saries alongside African grocers. An interesting mix of shops due [to] a rich tradition of immigrants from Poles to West Africans to the local area”. Yet another visitor would rather prophetically assert the need for the Market Hall’s revamping – as he states: “Not a nice place anymore. Was once a thriving market. Now in decline. Needs razing to the ground and start again”.

Both the East Shopping Centre and the East Ham Market Hall belong to an area that is riddled with an extensive array of clothes shops serving the different “cultural clusters” defining the locality. This does not mean, however, that each and every of those outlets restricts their wares to the needs of one specific “cluster”. In fact, and so long as the clothing befits a general “settler” culture expressive of a non-Western ethnic diasporic aesthetics, such clothing may be sold by whichever of the outlets forming the network of East Ham’s clothes shops. Of course, this general observation is based on our research of clothing outlets in the locality – given the practical limitations of our research work, it is quite possible that there may be important exceptions to such a general observation.

Be that as it may, and based on our particular findings, we may surmise that there is a certain “diversity” of attire – within the limited ambit of ethnic-based aesthetics – bartered by many East Ham outlets. We shall here present some instances of such “diversity” of wares within various shops:

• To begin with, a customer of Daminis London [277A Green Street] writes explicitly of this “diversity”, at least in the sense that the outlet offers its services to a variety of ethnic groups. The customer’s general impression of the clothes shop is presented as follows: “Fashionable and peacefully welcoming all the diverse people of the world!” We are told, further, that Daminis sells both “Great Indian” and – more generally – “Asian” clothing. It should be noted at this point that this “diversity” of attire is most obvious – or more prevalent – in the case of outlets belonging to the upmarket “fashionable” category [this is not meant to suggest that downmarket outlets would never subscribe to such indiscriminating practices]. Daminis may be said to more or less belong to the upmarket type of shop.

• Malika London, operating – as mentioned above – within the East Shopping Centre, serves both Pakistani and Indian customers. The Shopping Centre’s website, which also includes some data on the operations of Malika, informs us as follows: “Malika London offers today’s discerning women the very best in Pakistani and Indian fashion at high street prices” [we shall have to come back to the question of clothes prices, further below].

• Zarkan of London, also within the East Shopping Centre [cf. above], is yet another case where both Pakistani and Indian clothes are available. A customer of this outlet states: “If you are looking for Indian [and] Pakistani dresses it’s the place to be”.

• Based on a couple of customer reviews, we know that Poshak Mahal [11 Carlton Terrace, Green Street, within the East Ham constituency] serves the needs of both Pakistani and Indian “settlers”. One customer only refers to the “Pakistani garments” that the outlet sells. On the other hand, another informs us as follows: “Great selection of Indian and Pakistani clothes”.

• Henna Mehndi [316-318 Green Street] seems to be that kind of outlet that provides for upmarket fashions. The shop’s Facebook Page certainly testifies to that fact – posts give us “product details” under the telling rubric, “Uptown”. One such post, obviously targeting members of “cultural clusters” belonging to the middle- or even upper-middle classes, reads as follows: “Be the queen of the night in this [there is an accompanying picture] delicate long shirt with heavily embellished cape sleeves. Paired with our meticulously tailored embroidered cigarette trousers (sold separately), this is a truly exquisite ensemble that is sure to make heads turn”. At the same time, Henna Mehndi’s stocks cater for a “diversity” of clothing – we may therefore again observe the fact that belonging to the upscale category of clothing outlet seems to go hand-in-hand with such “diversity”. Yet another post presents potential customers with “Teal Embellished Trousers… Designed in London”. These are “designer” trousers [usually suggesting high quality] of both the “Indian” and the “Pakistani” variety.

• Choudhary Fashion [262 High Street North, Manor Park] explicitly advertizes its wares by referring to these as “mixed clothes”. Again these include Indian and Pakistani attire.

• J. Junaid Jamshed [208 Green Street] – which also presents itself as belonging to the upmarket category – is said to be a “Pakistani & Global” store [as mentioned above, the question of so-called “globalization” in fashion trends shall be discussed in some detail below]. While one customer states that the outlet is a “Great place for Pakistani clothing”, another generally describes clothes items sold therein as “ethnic dresses”. Yet another customer writes of “Asian clothes”.

• A final sample here would be the Little Asia East Ham store [or Little Asia Emporium; 294 High Street North]. Although it is possible that this outlet has closed down, we may nonetheless note that it used to sell clothes that had been imported from both India and Pakistan, including Sherwanis, Kurta Pyjamas, and Punjabi Salwar Kameez.

We have stated above that we intend to take the Daminis London outlet as a useful case-study of an Asian “fashion store” [the idea is to make use of data pertaining to this particular store so as to illustrate some of the points we wish to make that would apply to most of the outlets in the region of East Ham]. At this point, and merely by way of an introduction, we shall present some basic data regarding Daminis. Our main source of information on this outlet is Parminder Bhachu’s work, Dangerous Designs: Asian Women Fashion, the Diaspora Economies, Psychology Press, 2004. One should acknowledge that Bhachu’s work is extremely useful in that it provides us with vital data based on interviews that she has conducted with the owners of Daminis – her contribution to empirical research in the field of East London’s [and especially Green Street’s] ethnic-based clothes stores is therefore invaluable. On the other hand, one cannot help but notice how such solid empirical work is placed within a “theoretical” framework burdened by the fruitless jargon of postmodern “sociology”. Often enough, a study meant to investigate Asian female attire tilts towards the ideologically-laden gibberish of “gender studies”. We shall have to ignore the jargon so as to salvage Bhachu’s facts.

Although customer commentary on Daminis can show an extreme disparity of views, it is quite apparent that many locals do recognize its history and long-standing service to the Asian community of the area. One characteristic customer review is the following: “A great Asian Fashion Store in the heart of the Asian Community”. Yet another customer writes: “One of the best and biggest ladies oriental dress shop in East London”. As we shall see below, both the enterprise – as a commercial-cum-cultural entity – and its owners are deeply rooted within their particular “cultural cluster”, and are so in a variety of ways.

Bhachu informs us that the owners of the enterprise are Mrs. Damini and her son. It was the former who actually established the enterprise back in the late-1960’s. Bhachu writes: “Daminis is a chain of four clothes department stores owned and run by Mrs. Damini Mahendra… and her son, Deepak. I met Mrs. Damini in 1996 at their newly opened shop in Green Street in east London (a few doors down from Bubby’s shop, Chiffons, in fact)… Mrs. Damini started her first shop in east London in 1969…” [cf. p. 103 – because the enterprise was founded by a female, Bhachu chooses to dub it as “a commercial community mamma’s shop”; we also note the reference to the Chiffons clothes outlet, which shall elsewhere also be referred to as Shiffonz].

The establishment of Mrs. Damini’s first shop would take place in a social environment wherein the prevailing “cultural clusters” of the present had yet to be formed – throughout the decade of the 1960’s, the local milieu would still be dominated by “cockney culture” while Asian “settlers” had yet to make their appearance en masse. Bhachu writes: “When she [Mrs. Damini] opened up the shop there were few Asians in the area. She says she was lonely and ‘if I saw one [viz. an Asian] I would grab their arm and invite them to my house’. She started a cloth-sari shop because she herself liked to wear good clothes…” [cf. p. 104].

By the 1980’s, both the social environment [the local “cultural clusters” would be in the process of crystallizing] and the Daminis enterprise itself would be set to undergo critical changes. As regards the present, Bhachu describes the situation as follows: “These days, she [Mrs. Damini] talks with pride of her ‘business-minded’ son who joined her in the early 1980’s when he left college. Now in his mid-forties, it is his drive that has taken the shop into ready-mades, transforming it into a department store; he has computerized the stocking systems to keep track of merchandise in all the stores; and also experimented with new retailing computer technologies. However, Mrs. Damini remains the one who buys the stock, signs the cheques and controls the money. She is the overseeing matriarch who supervises the activities in the Green Street shop” [ibid.].

There are two points to make with respect to the above quote: Firstly, and simply in passing, we can ignore that rather grandiloquent phrase, “overseeing matriarch”. But secondly, and much more importantly, we shall at some point need to dwell on the fact that the Daminis enterprise would ultimately focus its business on “ready-mades”. In the analyses that follow below, we will need to explore in detail what is precisely meant by the “ready-mades” of an outlet such as Daminis and the implications of this – the issue is of course directly related to discussions revolving around “globalized fashion trends” vis-à-vis “localized fashion aesthetics”, it being a key question which we have already touched on above.

We may end these preliminary notes on the Daminis enterprise by further quoting Bhachu, who provides us with some very useful background information concerning the Green Street store: “It is an impressive store in terms of size and fixtures and it benefits from the old and established clientele developed over nearly thirty years. The shop is on the corner site of a former petrol station and was built according to Deepak’s design specifications, glass-fronted, with wooden floors; this is his ‘dream shop, his lifetime’s work’, his mother explains. He has modelled it on London and Indian department stores, like Sheetal and Roopam in Mumbai. A staff of six or so young shop assistants work with Mrs. Damini. Mostly young British-raised Asian women, they wear a uniform of black and green salwaar suits…” [cf. p. 105, my emph.].

It is of some importance to observe here that the design of the Daminis store was based on specifically Indian conventions, reproducing those of other outlets be these in London or Mumbai. It may be noted that Sheetal India concentrates on ready-made bridal wear, and is said to employ traditional Indian craftsmanship in the production of its products. Similarly, the Roopam Exclusive Designer Wear retail company also concentrates, though not exclusively so, on attire related to weddings. Also of importance is the fact that the shop assistants of the Daminis store are all dressed in Salwaar Suits: this particular dimension of ethnic-based attire, whereby members of staff within Indian clothes stores sport their own “signifiers of difference”, will be further discussed below.

Types of ethnic attire worn in the region of East Ham

In this sub-section, we shall attempt to give some idea of what type of clothing constitutes what we have thus far referred to as “ethnic attire”, and as such attire is worn in a locality such as East Ham. The list is neither comprehensive nor – dare we say – fully coherent, at least in the sense that some of the clothing presented as a particular “type” might overlap with other “types”. We cannot pretend to be at all experts on the highly complex matter of ethnic attire and its wide range of designs, patterns and accessories. Keeping such limitations in mind, we shall here present a list of the different types of ethnic clothing and, wherever possible, provide some elementary data helping us to understand what such apparel is all about. We shall also provide some information regarding the particular outlets in the locality of East Ham that sell such different types of clothing:

• The Salwar Kameez Suit

The Salwar Kameez seems to be of cardinal importance in the ethnic-type attire worn in the locality.

Ruby Fashions [333-335 High Street North, Manor Park] is one outlet that is said to specialize in the selling of the Salwar Kameez [also referred to, inter alia, as Shalwar Kameez]. Salwars are pants; the Kameez is a long shirt or tunic. The Salwar Kameez is thus “a traditional combination dress worn by women, and in some regions by men, in South Asia, as well as Central Asia” [cf., especially, https://www.en.wikipedia.org; but cf., as well, the Indian Business Directory, as also: https://www.allinlondon.co.uk/directory – much of the data used in this sub-section have been retrieved from a combination of these three sources, unless otherwise stated].

Ruby Fashions is also said to specialize in Punjabi Suits – we tentatively place this attire in the category of the Salwar Kameez as it is stated that such suits are the traditional attire for Punjabi women, and which is a type of clothing often equated to the Salwar Suit.

The same outlet, further, also sells Patiala Suits – these are described as being a Punjabi Suit, and we may thus also relate it to the Salwar Kameez. The attire has roots that go back to Patiala City, located in the northern region of India’s Punjab State.

Finally, Ruby Fashions also deals in Dupattas – the Dupatta is a shawl-like scarf, constituting a part of women’s traditionally essential clothing in the Indian subcontinent. It forms part of the women’s Salwar Kameez costume.

Nilo’s Women Clothing Store [443 High Street North; with a branch at 52 Plashet Grove, an East Ham locality bordering Upton Park and Manor Park] also specializes in the Salwar Kameez. The manner in which this store’s stock is presented is such as to fuse all of the Salwar Kameez variations mentioned above into one type of attire – we are told that the store sells “Ladies’ Punjabi Shlwal [sic] Kameez, Patiala Salwars, Punjabi Suits” [cf. especially, the Indian Business Directory].

Rani Fashions [302 High Street North, Manor Park] concentrates on women’s clothing. The store explains that “We sell all kinds of women fashion clothing” – included in these various kinds of attire are Punjabi Suits.

A store that goes by the name of 6 Kumars Silk House [285 High Street North, Manor Park] presents its “business profile” in the directory of Hotfrog [cf. https://www.hotfrog.co.uk], inter alia, as follows: “We offer a huge selection [of womenswear, menswear and childrenswear]… in order to make us a one stop shop for all your clothing requirements. We have a wide range of products such as Punjabi suits”. While it deals in what it terms “general clothing”, therefore, we see that it also has its stock of the Punjabi Salwar Kameez Suit.

Bombay Fashion Exclusive [317 Green Street] also sells the Salwar Kameez. However, there have been quite a number of customer reviews that express a certain dissatisfaction with the quality of that garment as sold in this outlet.

Malika London sells a wide variety of what it calls the “Pakistani Salwar-Kameez”.

Shiffonz [300 Green Street, the outlet that is located near Daminis, cf. above] is said to provide a “Good collection of Salwar Kameez” [according to a customer review].

J. Junaid Jamsted [cf. above] also sells the Salwar Kameez. One customer review, not too favourable, reads as follows: “I would say that the most moderate collection of classic design [is] available here for Panjabi and Salwar Kameez”. It is interesting to note that, according to yet another customer, this outlet stocks “Some good Shalwar Gamees [sic] for kids and men”.

We may conclude these brief notes on the Salwar Kameez by making a number of general observations – most of these have been retrieved from Quora [https://www.quora.com, 24.05.2017], and should therefore not be taken to be too definitive. Firstly, the Salwar Kameez is said to be a Muslim type of attire, at least in terms of its origins. In traditional Hindu culture – and as regards males in particular – it was the Dhoti that was once worn, not the Salwar Kameez. It is further suggested that the Salwar Kameez – and the art of stitching that accompanied it – was introduced to India around the 13th century, following the arrival of the Muslims in Punjab.

The Dhoti, by the way, is a type of sarong outwardly resembling trousers. It is a lower garment forming part of the national or ethnic costume for males in the Indian subcontinent. A Quora contributor, however, explains that most Hindus nowadays do not choose to wear the Dhoti – and he adds: “I’ve never seen a young Hindu wear Dhoti like young Muslims wear Shalwar-Qamis [sic]”. In any case, and especially as regards Hindu women, it is the Salwar Kameez that predominates.

The reasons for such predominance are many, and we intend to touch on some of these as we go along. In attempting to explain the popularity of the Salwaar Kameez in the UK, some analysts prefer to approach the matter from a somewhat “economistic” [and may we say pseudo-Marxian] perspective. One such is Parminder Bhachu [mentioned above] who, in a paper entitled “It’s hip to be Asian – The local and global networks of Asian fashion entrepreneurs in London”, writes: “I explore an economy of clothes, the designs negotiated within it, and commerce around it, to point to the new rhythms involved in the commoditization of ‘salwaar-kameezes’, also referred to as Punjabi suits… These suits constitute a large domain of the gift exchanges within the wedding economy” [in Peter Jackson, Philip Crang and Claire Dwyer (eds.), Transnational Spaces, Routledge Research in Transnationalism, Routledge, 2004, p. 40, my emph.]. Apart from the run-of-the-mill post-modernist jargon that this text is infested with, it also chooses to reduce everything to “an economy of clothes” or to “the wedding economy”, and is thus absolutely blind to the reality of religio-cultural practices as autonomously determining forces in themselves. Were one to acknowledge such forces in their own right, then Bhachu’s observation that the Salwar Kameez “constitutes a large domain of the gift exchanges” in wedding ceremonies may be seen in a completely different light: people exchange Salwar Kameezes as gifts, wear them, get married and finally reproduce for reasons other than “the economy” [in fact, it is the selfsame Bhachu who at some point must admit that the Salwar Kameez is, and as we shall further see, a “very semiotically charged and powerfully coded attire”]. For our purposes, we may simply salvage one single point of importance from Bhachu’s work here – viz. the prevailing significance of the Salwar Kameez in the daily lives of certain “cultural clusters” in localities such as East Ham.

It is precisely this single point of importance that Bhachu goes on to explore in some detail, albeit from the perspective we have already noted. By the late-1990’s, she observes, the Salwar Kameez Suits are available through “many distributive agencies”. These include “the many market stalls and ready-made clothes/designer boutiques in mainly ‘ethnic’ areas catering to a different style clientele”. Further, she notes that in the above-mentioned period, there had been a “rapid increase in networks of distribution”. Many market stalls, Bhachu continues, have “mushroomed” in localities such as East Ham [ibid., my emph. throughout]. It should be emphasized here that the “mushrooming” of outlets dealing in the Salwar Kameez did not take place in a cultural vacuum of “an economy of clothes” – rather, it sprouted within specifically “ethnic” localities and amongst concrete people who valued their own, “different style” [obviously “different” vis-à-vis White Britons]. The implication is undeniable: the Salwar Kameez is an ethnic-based attire expressive of “cultural clusters” that set themselves apart from the rest – they take pride in their own “different [cultural] style”.

We should remind ourselves, finally, that this “mushrooming” of “distributive agencies” selling the Salwar Kameez in a locality such as East Ham would become so symbolic of the pervasiveness of the suit that even members of staff of these “agencies” would be wearing it on a daily basis [cf. above, with respect to Daminis].

• The Saree [or Sari]

The Saree, of course, has been the quintessential female dress in India. Further, and according to Quora [cf. Raakhee Venugopal, 01.05.2016]: “A saree is an attire worn by women of all faiths all across the subcontinent – India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, Sri Lanka. It is not restricted to any faith. And yes, Indian Muslims… wear saree”. One may simply add here that the wearing of the Saree is likewise popular amongst “cultural clusters” of London’s “Little India”, and naturally so.

Mahir [230 Green Street] is one outlet in the region of East Ham that sells the Saree. One customer review reads as follows: “If you are looking to buy a party wear or just everyday simple Indian dresses, Mahir is the place you should go to. They have from party wear dresses and sarees to everyday wear at a reasonable price…” It seems that this store deals, inter alia, in the plain and simple Saree worn on a day-to-day basis. As we shall further see below, the Saree is a type of attire that can be either cheap and plain in design or it can be rather expensive and intricately styled with various degrees of complexity. Of course, in-between cases also abound.

Doli London [248 Green Street], a women’s clothes shop, also sells a variety of Sarees. One customer, writing in the Facebook Page administered by this outlet, comments as follows: “Wonderful Sari I love Doli’s all Sari, why not they open web site [sic]”. Quite a number of Saree-selling clothes stores based in East Ham administer a Facebook Page so as to inform customers of their latest wares. Some also have their websites, and the customer we are quoting here is apparently requesting that the Doli London store should also establish its own website, obviously so as to keep up with the latest Saree trends and accompanying prices.

Silk Rang [334 Green Street, Upton Park – cf. https://www.silkrang.com] is an outlet that is said to offer “the widest variety of designer collections” – such collections, of the upmarket category, include Sarees.

The store by the name of 6 Kumars Silk House [cf. above] offers a “huge selection” of Sarees, as also Bridal Sarees.

East & West Clothing [337 High Street North], an outlet specializing in women’s “special occasion clothes”, sells both cotton and silk Sarees [cf. the Indian Business Directory].

Rasam Gayatri Silks [312 High Street North, Manor Park] deals in what is known as Kanjipuram [or Kanchipuram] Saree Silks. This is a type of woven Silk Saree originating from the town of Kanchipuram in Tamil Nadu, India. The outlet therefore concentrates, inter alia, on selling Tamil-type Sarees. This store, by the way, is listed in the Tamil Business Index, cf. https://www.tamilbusinessindex.com/listings; it is also listed in The Tamil City, a “Tamil community business & professional online directory”, cf. https://thetamilcity.com/listings.

It should be further stated that the Rasam Gayatri Silks store also sells what is known as the Coorai Saree [often simply referred to as the Wedding Coorai]. This type of Saree, according to S. Ratnajeevan H. Hoole, is “A sari gifted by the groom to the bride for wearing at the wedding ceremony. It is usually a silk sari with gold thread” [cf. The Exile Returned: A Self-portrait of the Tamil Vellahlahs of Jaffna, Sri Lanka, Aruvi Publishers, 1997, p. 212]. The garment is related to what is known as the “Coorai ceremony”. Traditionally at least, the Coorai Saree came in a strictly prescribed range of colours, these being red, blue and yellow – what Ratnajeevan calls “the colours of the fire” [ibid., p. 213]. Thus, one often comes across the term, “Coorai Colours” – such term is also very commonly used amongst East Ham outlets dealing in this type of Saree. Generally speaking, “Coorai Colours” are worn by South Indian brides and are also popular amongst Bollywood movie stars [the precise impact of Bollywood on UK’s “cultural clusters” shall be discussed in detail further below].

Rasam Gayatri Silks, finally, also stocks what is known as the Kolam design Saree, a garment characterized by its traditional geometric line patterns. The store’s Kolam Saree is a Kerala engagement dress.

We have already noted that the East Ham Market Hall [cf. above] has been home to a number of outlets that have been dealing in Silk Sarees. Generally, however, customer reviews suggest that the type of Sarees sold in these outlets belong to the downmarket category. One customer, for instance, simply speaks of “cheap clothing”. On the other hand, reviewers have also stated that outlets at the East Ham Market Hall offer a “wide selection of clothes” [Sarees included].

According to its Facebook Page, Reva’s Fashions [276B High Street North] specializes in the selling of “party” Sarees.

Reva’s Fashions also specializes in the “engagement wear” Saree; as also in Sarees meant for weddings. As is well known – and as touched on in discussing the Wedding Coorai – the Saree is very popular for both such occasions.

Saree bridal outfits are also sold at Daminis [cf. above] – one customer review of this outlet tells us that this “Shiny 3-floor store displaying colourful Indian designerwear” specializes in Saree bridal outfits.

There is also what is called the “Stonework Saree”, sold – inter alia – at Reva’s Fashions. This type of Saree is embellished with “stones”, these being precious or semi-precious stones.

Further, there is the “Half Saree”, also sold – inter alia – at Reva’s Fashions. The “Half Saree” is a traditional outfit that is extremely prominent in South India – it may also be called a “Two-piece Saree” or “Half Lehenga” [we shall have to come back to the Lehenga ethnic wear].

Perhaps, and at least as regards the wider region of East Ham, it would be in the East Shopping Centre that one would find the “luxury designer” type of Saree. Zarkan of London, for instance – which, as we know, is situated within the Shopping Centre – is described as an “Upmarket boutique with a sizeable selection of designer… saris…”

• The Saree in combination with the Hijab

We have noted above that the Saree is an attire worn by both Hindu and Muslim women. The latter usually wear a separate Hijab that matches with their Saree. Some are said to merely opt for a regular black Hijab with whatever Saree they happen to be wearing. The combination of the Hijab with the Saree is evident, for instance, in the case of the Malayali Muslim women of Kerala [cf. Quora, 01.05.2016, ibid.] – this is naturally duplicated amongst the Muslim “cultural clusters” of the East Ham area.

There are of course numerous stores in and around East Ham selling Hijabs. We may here simply mention two examples. One such is Poshak Mahal [cf. above] – a customer review reads as follows: “Good Asian clothing shop for mostly adult[s], has nice hijabs and cardigans”. Another example is the Hijab Shop at 151 Byron Avenue, East Ham.

• The Abaya Cloak

The Abaya [sometimes referred to as “Aba”] is a long robe or cloak, usually black in colour. It is worn over whatever a woman happens to be wearing and covers the whole body. The modern “Jilbab” is a type of clothing very similar to an Abaya. The cloak is said to be absolutely compulsory for all Muslim women [to cover their face and body] if they are visible to “non-mahrams” – viz. people that a Muslim woman cannot marry. In fact, the Abaya cloak is a garment decreed by the Islamic religion, culture and norms and meant to “protect” women from men.

Mahir [cf. above] is one outlet that sells Abayas. Not all of its customers, however, are happy with its stock of this garment. One writes: “Very disappointed! Still haven’t updated their latest clothing range. Hardly any trendy and elegant Abayas”. This quote is of special interest as it suggests that, although the Abaya cloak is a religiously-decreed garment imposed on Muslim women, there may nonetheless be a certain expectation that the garment be “trendy” and “elegant” [below, we shall examine the extent to which such expectation is related to the buying power of the consumer, and therefore to the question of one’s class position within Muslim “cultural clusters”; determining factors external to class status would also need to be taken into account when considering the need for “trendiness”].

The Silk Rang store [cf. above] also sells the Abaya cloak.

Our often cited Daminis store is yet another outlet that deals in Abayas – one customer, on visiting the outlet for the first time, was impressed with its stock of “lovely abayas”.

Finally, we may mention the outlet by the apt name, Jilbabs ‘R’ Us, located within the East Shopping Centre [Unit 14]. The store is said to specialize in “traditional Islamic clothing” and, more specifically, “traditional abayas”. It is interesting to note that the Abaya cloak is referred to as “fashionable modest-wear”, obviously given its clear religious function [“protection” from the opposite sex]. The term “modest-wear”, of course, is also meant to echo that of “modern wear” [cf. https://www.jilbabsrus.co.uk].

• The Sherwani

The Sherwani is a long coat-like garment worn in the Indian subcontinent. It was a garment that had been originally associated with the Muslim aristocracy in the course of the British Raj in India. It is said to be worn over a Kurta with the combination of either a Churidar, a Dhoti, a Pajama or a Salwar Kameez [some of these types of attire and/or accessories shall be further discussed below – we have already said a few things about the Salwar Kameez Suit and the Dhoti].

As in the case of the Salwar Kameez, therefore, the Sherwani is also a type of Muslim attire. Writing of the Sherwani, a Quora contributor [op. cit., 24.05.2017] writes: “… But Hindus just copied our fashion… Still, most of Indians take pride on [their] Sherwani more than their ‘traditional’ dhoti”.

Thus, and to the extent that what the above commentator states is accurate, we may say that Hindus have generally replaced their “traditional” Dhoti with both the Salwar Kameez and the Sherwani. The same commentator continues: “Most Hindus are opting to wear Sherwani in wedding than their traditional dhoti or something”. The reference to weddings is to be noted: the Sherwani is usually worn on formal, traditional occasions.

The popularity of the Sherwani in an area such as East Ham is clear, especially given the network of clothes outlets that sell this type of garment; customer comments further verify such popularity [this would not necessarily mean that customers are all satisfied with the quality of Sherwanis sold in many East Ham stores].

A customer who visited the Daminis store writes: “Loved the selection of Sherwani’s [sic] Daminis stocked”. In contrast, yet another customer expresses disappointment with the quality of this garment available at Daminis – the reviewer writes: “Average quality of Sherwanis. Lals across the road is much better”. Lals, by the way, is a clothes shop located within the East Shopping Centre [Unit 3-5]. Customer reviews on this outlet inform us that it deals in “wedding shirvani” [sic]. Quite a number of customers who have bought a Sherwani at Lals have likewise been disappointed – one commentator writes: “The worst place ever… Will not return my deposit paid for a shirwani [sic] they messed up and denying acknowledgement of it…”

J. Junaid Jamshed is also another store that deals in Sherwanis – as we shall elsewhere observe, the assistants of this store are said to take great care in “guiding” and informing customers on the styles and materials of the different Sherwanis they stock – there seems to be great variation as to the design, cut, intricacy and embroidery of a Sherwani.

Bombay Fashion Exclusive [cf. above] is itself said to sell “Beautiful… Sherwanis”.

Finally, one may find various collections of Sherwanis in the East Shopping Centre. One such upmarket collection is the “Vanshik” brand – the Shopping Centre’s website writes: “Vanshik is a heritage menswear brand with a 30-year history of pioneering Sherwani… designs” [cf. https://www.vanshik.online]. The website does not mention which particular “Units” in the Centre deal in such collections.

• The Anarkali Churidar

The Anarkali suit is basically a form of women’s dress originating from the Lahore city, now in Pakistan. Being a suit, it obviously has a top and a bottom part.

Regarding the top, https://www.strandofsilk.com writes: “An anarkali is a dress-like garment that consists of a long frock style top which creates a flattering flowing silhouette…” Regarding the bottom part, the same source continues: “Churidars are the bottoms that usually accompany the top frock style top. Churidars are so called because traditionally they are long length and gather around the feet of the wearer forming Chudi’s (Bangles) in the fabric. In more modern times, churidar is often used generically to include all types of bottoms that accompany the top” [my emph.]. We need note here the “generic” use of the term “Churidar”, something which can – at least for the uninitiated – complicate whatever description of ethnic attire. The complexity is of course further compounded by the fact that as many other terms related to such attire are also of the “generic” type – and thus, for example, one may come across a garment that is referred to as “Churidar Salwar” or even “Anarkali Sherwani”, and so forth. We need to keep such complexities in mind as we attempt to undertake some sort of categorization of the ethnic attire being presented here.

High Street’s Choudhary Fashion [cf. above] is an example of an outlet that deals in Anarkali Churidar garments. In the Indian Business Directory, it announces: “We also sell Anarkali and Churidar Suits”.

A second example of a store selling the Anarkali Churidar suit, this time in Green Street, is Silk Rang. The store’s website informs us that it sells “Designer Anarkali”.

• The Choli Suit

Generally speaking, the Choli is a short-sleeved bodice or blouse worn beneath a Saree by Indian women, often exposing the midriff.

Further, and according to Wikipedia, “Gagra choli or ghagra choli, which is also known as lehenga choli and locally as chaniya choli, is the traditional clothing of women from the Indian subcontinent”. It is worn, inter alia, in places such as Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh, Punjab and Nepal. The Gagra choli, it is said, is “a combination of the ‘gagra’ or ‘lehenga’ (long skirt) and the ‘choli’ (blouse)”.

Wikipedia informs us that “In Punjab it was traditionally worn with the kurti and salwar”. As regards the Kurti [also referred to as the Kurti top], we may note that this is an upper garment worn, again, in the Indian subcontinent, and it encompasses waistcoats, jackets and blouses [it is naturally also available in the East Ham outlets – for instance, Malika London announces that it stocks “Punjabi kurti tops”].

Very many outlets in the East Ham region proclaim that they stock Choli Suits, Lehengas and Ghagra Cholis. Non-Asians, we are told, tend to confuse these with the Saree. Writing of the Lehenga vis-à-vis the Saree, Madhu G., of Hyderabad’s National Institute of Fashion Technology, states at least one reason why such confusion arises: “Lehenga and Saree are two traditional women’s clothing items from India. These are timeless apparels that have been adorned by commoners and celebrities alike. Saree is more common than Lehenga that is worn on more on [sic] special occasions these days. There are many differences between these two garments but people become confused because of the similar looks created by a fusion style known as Lehenga Saree” [cf. Quora, 26.12.2017].

According to UK’s Indian Business Directory, one High Street store that deals in Choli Suits and/or Lehengas and/or Ghagra Cholis is East & West Clothing [cf. above].

Rangoli Designer Ladies Wear [at times referred to as Rangoli London Ltd.; 9 Plashet Grove, East Ham] is a “Trendy Indian Ladies Clothes Store… Specializing in… Lehenga and Choli Suits” [cf. the Directory, ibid.].

Silk Rang also deals in what it calls “Bridal Lenga” – we may note that the term “Lenga” is a variation of “Lehnga” or “Langa”, all three of which are the same as Lehengas.

Bridal Lehengas are also available at 6 Kumars Silk House [cf., inter alia, DesiVala, a community website for Indians living in London, https://www.desivala.com].

The East Shopping Centre’s Zarkan of London also deals in Bridal Lehengas – one customer tells us: “We basically ordered a bridal lengha from there…”, and goes on to describe her “abysmal” experience regarding both the quality of the garment and the service offered at the outlet [we shall be discussing such issues below].

A customer of Doli London [cf. above] informs us that “I had my lengha custom [presumably meaning costume] made in a week” [we note that the garment in this case was not simply bought, but actually “made” – we shall be discussing the very important implications of this further below].

Finally, and according to a customer of the Bombay Fashion Exclusive store, “Beautiful Lehengas… are sold there, do recommend purchasing from there, once you get in there you have to buy something because of how nicely displayed they [the Lehengas, amongst other items] are!”

• The Kurta

Above, we have made reference to both the “Kurta” [as in Kurta Pyjamas, over which a Sherwani may be worn]] and the “Kurti” [as in Kurti top, an upper garment which may be worn with the Choli Suit]. Apparently, these two items are not the same thing. The primary difference between Kurta and Kurti, it is said, is nothing more than their lengths. Kurta are normally long, typically knee-, calf- or ankle-length, whereas a Kurti is often short, measuring at waist- or hip-length [cf. https://www.indian-fashion-kurtis.com]. The Kurta is generally described as a loose, collarless shirt, and is worn in many regions of South Asia – it is as popular in UK’s “Little India”.

The popularity of the Kurta in the East Ham area is obvious, at least judging by the number of local customers who have either bought it or have gone around shops in search of it. One local, for instance, went around shops along Green Street trying to find “a Kurta Pyjama (menswear)” – while the Mahir store would disappoint this potential customer, he/she would finally find the appropriate Kurta “literally 2 shops down [the road]”.

Poshak Mahal is one store that sells the Kurta – one customer describes this outlet as follows: “Great shop for Pakistani Kurta and menswear”.

Finally, we may also state that the East Shopping Centre – or, rather, particular “Units” located therein – sells what are described as “pioneering… Kurta designs”.

• The Kaftan

The Kaftan, of Asian origin, is a variant of the robe or tunic which has often been worn as a coat or as an overdress, usually having sleeves and reaching to the ankles.

It is a garment that is quite similar to both the Kurta and the Kurti – nowadays, in fact, one may even come across a fusion of all three types of garment. Thus, East Ham stores might present such class of apparel as Kaftan Kurta or Kaftan Kurti. And yet, there is a certain difference between a Kaftan and the Kurta/Kurti type of garment. Manish D. Mishra, writing in DNA India – and with special reference to the Kurti vis-à-vis the Kaftan – explains their difference as follows: “The kurti has two basic appeals – it could be formal or semi-formal while the kaftan falls into a grey area. Also, a kaftan doesn’t have the history and weight like that of a kurti” [cf. “Style debate: Kurti vs Kaftan”, https://www.dnaindia.com, updated 13.05.2017]. It may be said that, given this relative absence of “history” and “weight”, the Kaftan has usually been more of a “practical” garment – it has even been said to be a “utilitarian” type of apparel [ibid.]. It is perhaps for this reason that Sujata Assomull, in an article published in The Hindu, rather vaguely asserts that “The kaftan is as, if not more, flexible than the kurta” [cf. “The return of the kaftan”, https://www.thehindu, 22.05.2020]. He goes on to imply the “utilitarian” nature of the Kaftan when he explains its usage through the years – he writes: “Growing up, many of us may have seen our mothers and grandmothers wear kaftans as housecoats” [ibid.]. The “flexibility” that Assomull sees in the Kaftan is a kind of versatility as to the different occasions in which it may be worn nowadays – from informal wear around the house to occasions expressive of “haute” fashion styles.

From a historical perspective, we may very briefly state that the Kaftan was originally worn by Arab traders in Southeast Asia. Religious communities that were in the process of formation as Islam became established in the area were to gradually adopt this style of dress as their own distinguishing feature.

There are many stores around the East Ham area that deal in Kaftans – we merely mention just one example, that of the Malika London store within the East Shopping Centre.

• Asian and Tamil jewellery

Many of the garments presented above can, of course, be accompanied – depending on the formality or otherwise of the occasion – by different types of accessories. These may include pieces of ethnic jewellery. Rasam Gayatri Silks [cf. above], for instance, deals in specifically Tamil-type jewellery, as does Manor Park’s 6 Kumars Silk House. Aron Jewellers, located along East Ham’s High Street North [exact street address has not been identified], is a store specializing in specifically Asian wedding jewellery, including ethnic bracelets, necklaces, bangles and rings. By the way, this latter outlet had been raided in 2012 by a gang of young Pakistanis, stealing £600.000 worth of jewels – this event being fairly indicative of the vulnerability of such stores to criminal activity in the area [cf. Melissa York, “Robbers take £600.000 worth of jewellery from East Ham store”, Newham Recorder, https://www.newhamrecorder.co.uk, 13.06.2012].

We shall end this sub-section on ethnic attire by making some general observations on the topic, though much of what we shall be noting must already be obvious from what has been presented above.

Ethnic attire is of course worn on a daily basis by many members of East Ham’s various “cultural clusters” – that much is fairly obvious as one walks around the locality. And yet, and at least from a purely economic perspective, the “major market” seems to be in the field of wedding-related outfits and wedding-related accessories [and which brings us back to Parminder Bhachu’s so-called “wedding economy”, op. cit.]. We may here present a number of outlets in the East Ham area which typically deal in wedding-related or engagement-related attire [we have already presented quite a number of such cases as we surveyed the various categories of ethnic attire available in the locality]:

High Street’s East & West Clothing, it has been stated above, deals generally in “special occasion clothes” – such occasions include, and most probably above all, weddings and engagements.

Daminis, which – as we have seen – deals a lot in Saree bridal outfits, is almost certainly an outlet that simply cannot be overlooked when some young member of East Ham “cultural clusters” decides to get married. Very many Daminis customers either purchase or have intended purchasing their wedding outfits from this particular department store [not all customers, however, have been satisfied with the quality of such outfits].

We have noted above that Zarkan deals in Bridal Lehengas. There are many customer reviews informing us that one important aspect in the planning of a wedding celebration in the East Ham locality also includes visiting this outlet – elsewhere, we shall be discussing the “stress” locals experience in trying to select their most appropriate bridal outfit at the Zarkan store.

Rangoli Designer Ladies Wear, the store located in East Ham’s Plashet locality [cf. above], is also said to specialize in “Bridal Dresses, Wedding Gowns”.

The 6 Kumars Silk House store, which – as already noted – deals in Bridal Sarees and Bridal Lehengas, presents itself as an outlet selling “Indian Bride and Groom Clothes… Specializing in Men & Women Wedding and Bridal Collection[s], [and] Bridal Gowns…”

Shiffonz along Green Street sells what is known as “nikkah” dresses [the term “nikkah” or “nikah”, of course, refers to the Muslim marriage ceremony]. One customer review, taken as a sample, reads as follows: “I went in yesterday to look for my nikkah clothes, so I picked three outfits to try one… [etc.]”.

A customer of the Doli London store notes: “… In love with my bridal outfit and would definitely recommend all brides to buy from them!” This expression of “love” with respect to the ethnic bridal outfit in question is a sentiment one often comes across in East Ham-related customer reviews. Doli London deals in a range of attire associated with ethnic weddings – one such is the Mehndi outfit. With respect to the latter, another customer writes: “… I chose both my bridal and Mendhi [meaning Mehndi] outfit from the same place…” Mehndi, by the way – also referred to as Henna – is a party held for most Muslim brides in the Middle East and South Asia [though not exclusively limited to this religious grouping]. It is similarly reproduced amongst East Ham’s “cultural clusters”, be these Muslim, Hindu or [even] Sikh. A Mehndi party is usually celebrated with close women friends and family a few days before the wedding ceremony itself. It is said that the most “generic” Mehndi outfits are special Salwar or Punjabi suits prepared specifically for this pre-wedding celebration.

One final example of a store selling bridal outfits in the area of East Ham is that of RDC London [246 Green Street]. The outlet, which is presented as a “Bride and Groom Shop”, is well-known for its RDC brand. According to the Knotify website: “At RDC London brides have a full consultation to ascertain their exact requirements before the design work begins. With a full experience at your disposal, Rashid Malik [founder and designer] can create a piece that is as unique as you are. All bridalwear is skillfully hand-finished and uses only the finest Swarovski crystals [laboratory-created diamonds]” [cf. https://www.knotify.co.uk; cf. also: https://www.rdc-online.com]. Obviously, this outlet must certainly belong to the upmarket category of clothes shops – and yet, one regular customer has this to say about her purchasing experience at the RDC’s Green Street branch [there are two other branches]: “Terrible service! Me and my sisters purchased bridesmaids dresses for around £100…” She goes on to explain why the service was “terrible” [we shall return to this type of issue below].

Now, while it is said that the so-called “wedding economy” constitutes the “major market” in localities such as East Ham, this would not mean that stores selling garments for formal occasions do not also deal in a range of casual ethnic-based attire. Take, for instance, Malika London: while – as we have seen above – this store sells “the very best” in formal garments for “discerning women”, it also deals in informal or semi-formal attire. The store goes on to promote its stock as follows: “… a range of fabrics, colours and styles from casual to semi-formal are on offer, with various accessories to complete the outfit”. We have not been able, however, to find statistics for the UK which compare the size of the ethnic “wedding economy” vis-à-vis that for casual clothes.

Price ranges for ethnic attire in the area of East Ham

In our discussion of clothes stores along Green Street, we had noted that – according to at least one customer – this is “the cheapest shopping street in London” [op. cit.]. Obviously, however, the question of how one evaluates the price of a product is highly subjective – it all depends on one’s personal buying power, comparative experiences as a consumer, the value one personally attaches to a particular product, and so on. Thus, yet another customer – this time with reference to East Ham’s Indian clothes shops generally [but including those along Green Street] – writes: “I would say sari and Indian material is not necessarily cheap – may be I’m spoilt for choice as husband comes from Malaysia and loads cheaper there [sic]” [cf. https://www.tripadvisor.com, op. cit.].

Writing of “ethnic dresses” sold at Green Street’s J. Junaid Jamshed store, a customer feels that “they are on the pricier side”. Similarly, Indian and Pakistani dresses sold at Zarkan of London can be somewhat beyond the buying power of at least some locals – one writes [albeit rather ambiguously]: “Price is a little bit more than outside [my buying power]…”

Thus far, all such comments seem to suggest a certain difficulty in purchasing various items of clothing – but the economic difficulty does not appear to be insurmountable. On the other hand, we do have a longish list of customer reviews that definitely point to “overpriced” or “very expensive” products. Consider the following sample cases:

• A customer review of Bombay Looks [162 Green Street, Upton Park, and cf. its website, https://www.bombaylooksdirect.com] informs us as follows regarding both the quality of the store’s stocks and the accompanying prices – he/she simply writes that everything is “Over priced and nothing special”. Here, however, we need to keep in mind the subjectivity of the commentator – we shall see that directly opposite impressions have also been expressed with respect to this outlet [impressions regarding prices could relate to buying power, but not so as regards product quality].

• Poshak Mahal, according to one customer, is said to be “Typically very expensive”. The customer, however, is not suggesting that all East Ham clothes shops are likewise expensive – he/she continues: “if you shop few shops away, same product far cheaper than them”. A second reviewer confirms the apparently unreasonable prices of Poshak Mahal – its outfits are said to be “Overpriced for what they are”. We have a similar confirmation from a third reviewer – garments are reported to be “Overpriced and unbranded”. A final sample review of this store reads as follows: “Huge selection of fabrics, however very expensive. Paid £80 for two yards of fabric, was later told by a friend that the exact same is available elsewhere for a fraction of the price”. It should nonetheless again be pointed out that directly contrasting impressions have also been recorded regarding the price ranges at Poshak Mahal.

• SSR Textiless London [244 High Street North, Manor Park, and cf. its website, https://www.ssrtextileless.com; cf. also its Facebook Page], which deals in Lehengas, Salwars, Saree Blouses and Kurta Sets, is also reported to be an expensive outlet. According to at least one customer, all its garments are “overpriced, avoid”.

• Yet another store that is apparently expensive is Daminis. There are quite a number of customer reviews that clearly point to such a possibility. One customer simply states: “Too expensive”. A second reviewer contrasts Daminis prices for various outfits to those of other outlets in the area – and writes: “Unbelievably high prices for outfits on sale in lots of other shops at a fraction of the price” [this quote is slightly ambiguous: we cannot say for certain which outlet it is – Daminis or its competitors – that offers its products at discount prices; be that as it may, the Daminis store itself is said to be “unbelievably” expensive]. A third reviewer also writes of Daminis as a relatively expensive outlet, but goes on to provide an explanation for this: “… They might not be the cheapest, but they are definitely one of the best when compared to their rivals. Many floors and many styles to choose from…” It is of much interest to note here that buying expensive clothes is not necessarily – or at least not always – limited to those with a standard buying power, and which would imply that one’s class position does not always directly reflect on how much money one may spend on clothes. Thus, in her interview with Parminder Bhachu, the owner of the Daminis outlet – Mrs. Damini – relates an occasion where a Punjabi Muslim couple had purchased items well beyond their means. Bhachu writes: “This couple had bought outfits worth £3.000. They were not rich, she [Mrs. Damini] told me, but really ‘good-at-heart people’…” [cf. Dangerous Designs, op. cit., p. 104].

We have presented the above stores as sample cases of what may be said to constitute the segment of East Ham’s “expensive” clothing market. At the same time, we have also suggested that the evaluation of a product’s price can be very much subjective. The question of subjectivity is fairly rampant throughout customer reviews – the case of Bombay Looks [cf. above] is all too representative. We have read that this store dealt in products which were both “over priced” and “nothing special”. But now consider the following customer review regarding the selfsame outlet: “First class service, reasonable priced… Others find it expensive, yes, they do have expensive items but it’s your choice to buy it or not”. Similarly, yet another reviewer notes: “Brilliant new designs great value for money excellent customer service”. A final review sample tells us a completely different story with respect to product prices at Bombay Looks – we read: “Very good for quality clothing and reasonable prices”.

Subjective evaluation of prices is also evident in the case of Poshak Mahal – above, we had presented four customer reviews all of which confirmed the impression that the outlet is “very expensive”. We may now contrast this to the following customer review, presenting this clothes store in a completely different light: “Poshak Mahal is a budget clothes shop”. It may be said, in fact, that the vast majority of clothes stores in the locality are exactly this type – viz. run-of-the-mill budget shops – and which are reflective of the economic status of a great number of its residents [the question of poverty shall be discussed below].

The apparent prevalence of the budget shop is more or less confirmed by customer reviews that typically refer to the “reasonable prices” of many outlets. We have already discussed, for instance, the case of Green Street’s Mahir store – like so many others, it usually deals in plain and simple Sarees, always “at a reasonable price” [cf. above].

Very different prices ranges are nonetheless available to suit the different categories of consumer capacity in the locality. We may here consider some samples of such price ranges.

• Prices at the East Shopping Centre generally:

The price for bridalwear can range from £1.130.00 to £3.390.00 and more.

Women’s garments can range from £560.00 to £2.240.00 and more.

Menswear can range from £80.00 to £320.00 and more.

• Prices at Bombay Looks:

The price for Sarees can range from £20.00 to £89.00.

Salwar Kameez and related suits can range from £15.00 to £79.00.

Bangles can range from £5.00 to £12.00.

Accessories such as arm bands, hair combs and side tikka are sold at up to £5.00.

• Prices at SSR Textiles London [cf. above]:

Prices for Lehengas range from £270.00 to £590.00.

Salwar suits range from £20.00 to £580.00.

Sarees range from £30.00 to £90.00.

Saree blouses range from £20.00 to £30.00.

Regarding menswear, Kurta Sets range from £30.00 to £140.00.

Men’s shirts range from £20.00 to £40.00.

Men’s Veshti [similar to the Dhoti, cf. above] range from £20.00 to £30.00.

• Prices at Silk Rang [prices here in euro]:

A Lengha – as this store’s website [op. cit.] at times refers to Lehengas – is sold at €241.95.

Prices for the Abaya cloak range from €80.95 to €113.95.

Sarees range from €46.95 to €223.95.

Prices, and the question of “customer exploitation”

Customer’s evaluation of prices, we have observed, must often be taken with a pinch of salt, given their subjectivity. This would also apply to customer’s unreserved complaints or insinuations that they have, in some way or other, been “exploited” by store owners. Examining samples of “customer exploitation” may nonetheless give us some idea of how members of ethnic groups in East Ham may often feel about ethnic-owned clothes enterprises. However subjective such sentiments may be, they remain a stated fact of life.

A customer of Green Street’s Poshak Mahal informs us that, unless one is a regular shopper, he/she may fall prey to different forms of “customer exploitation” – very simply, the person could be overcharged or in some way swindled. Irregular customers are said to be “an easy target”. The reviewer goes on to insinuate that this is a common practice amongst Green Street outlets generally.

There are quite a number of more specific customer reviews that describe dealings at Poshak Mahal as constituting a “Rip-off”.

With respect to Bombay Fashion Exclusive, a shopper writes that its owners are “a conning people”. While the garment sold to this particular customer turned out to be defective, the owners refused any refunding. He/she further complains that “We lost our deposit of £100 which is more than half [the price of the garment]”.

Bombay Fashion Exclusive has been accused of “customer exploitation” by yet another customer – we read: “Deceiving owner and awful service. Owner was dishonest and sold me a dress that was too big. I asked for a size 34 but a size 36 was given to me. They don’t stock 34 so they deliberately deceived me just so that I would make a purchase. At the time of purchase the owner promised that should the dress not fit I can exchange it or have a refund as I was not allowed to try it in the shop. I returned home and realized that the dress in the bag was a size 36 which was too big, the next day I returned to the shop to return the dress. I was refused a refund and in order to have a dress in my size I must pay him another £9 to get it altered. It’s so awful that I was deceived and sold the wrong dress, on top of it all. I was forced to pay more money just to have the original dress that I purchased. Please do not visit! This shop is dishonest!” [my emph.].

A third customer of Bombay Fashion Exclusive confirms the complaint that people have to pay an extra fee for alterations – he/she writes: “… [A] few things do get muddled up such as things like paying extra money for tailoring…”

A so-called “easy target” is also the type of shopper who does not seem to know exactly what it is that he wishes to purchase – a fourth customer at Bombay Fashion Exclusive puts it as follows: “Felt taken advantage of not knowing what I needed for an Indian wedding”.

A final customer review of Bombay Fashion Exclusive explains that its owners make use of ethno-religious “festive seasons” to overcharge local shoppers – the reviewer writes: “… and I also overpaid for what the garments are worth. I will never shop here again, it’s disgusting how these merchants are ripping people off during the festive season. This is why your business will never flourish”. While such a complaint may be an accurate observation of what could be occurring during “festive seasons” in East Ham, we also need to note that ethno-religious festivals are occasions when many clothes shops sell their items at discount prices. As we shall further discuss below, a store such as Reva’s Fashions [cf. above] sells garments such as Sarees at 50% discount prices during the Hindu Diwali festival [or the “festival of lights”, celebrated in the October-November period].

The Zarkan of London store has also been accused of “customer exploitation”. A shopper complains as follows: “Absolutely disgusting place and horrible experience! These people played a game at us and completely mugged us off with our ordered [sic]. We ordered a dress 3 months in advance to find out it was not ready, the workers kept tint to our faces [the latter phrase seems incomprehensible, unless it means ‘messed up’ in slang]... Do not bother going to the place these people will mug you off and mess you around”.

Another customer, also with reference to Zarkan of London, notes: “Ordered a saree from them mid February [year not mentioned]. I went back to the shopping centre only to see the shop has closed down. The[y] took all the money… Complete scam”. We cannot confirm whether or not Zarkan of London has actually closed down – an entry on the Asiana Wedding Directory [cf. https://www.asianaweddingdirectory.co.uk, 2020] seems to indicate otherwise.

Bombay Looks also has a branch at Ilford. An East Ham resident visited this outlet and had this to say: “Went to the Ilford branch to exchange a suit for a larger size. The sales assistant was very rude and even though the dress was exactly the same, he insisted I pay an extra £4. WTH”.

Finally, one also comes across customer reviews critical of the practices at Daminis. The store’s owners, it is said, exploit the fact that their enterprise has a long history of service to the community, using this as a pretext to overcharge customers. One reviewer notes: “… their prices are extortionate… not because their clothes are better than anyone else’s… but simply because of their name. This is a perfect example of a name can only carry you so far if you don’t have the goods and quality to back it up! [sic] The competition [meaning the store’s competitors] are all selling the same things at half the price!”

We have observed above that many outlets have often refused customers a refund – it is impossible for us to ascertain whether or not customer complaints on this issue are justified. But it is only fair to note that there are at least some clothes stores that do abide by a refund policy. Apparently, J. Junaid Jamshed is one such case – one of its customers informs us that “at least they have a return policy”. Zarkan of London is yet another example where the policy applies – one of its customers admits: “We managed to get a full deposit refund”.

We shall end this sub-section on what we have termed “customer exploitation” with a caveat. While it may be true that East Ham residents may often fall prey to swindling and overcharging at clothes shops, it is also as true that ethnic minorities – and especially as regards Indian “settlers” – are very much adept at bargaining with shop owners. Generally speaking, they have been described as “bargaining-prone customers” [cf., for instance, J. Dawra, K. Katyal and V. Gupta, “Can you do something about the price? – Exploring the Indian deal and bargaining-prone customer”, Journal of Consumer Marketing, August 2015]. Thus, it is quite characteristic of an East Ham local to advise his compatriots on how to do one’s shopping as follows [cf. https://www.tripadvisor.com, op.cit.]: “Also when you go clothes/fabric shopping… make sure you barter – do not pay full ticket price. I was there only yesterday and managed to save 35% on ticket prices” [my emph.].

The quality of the merchandise

We shall now consider the quality of the ethnic attire sold in the stores of the East Ham area. All of what shall be presented here is based exclusively on customer experiences and sentiments.

One customer review gives us a general, subjective assessment of the quality of the merchandise sold along Green Street. Having visited the J. Junaid Jamshed store, he/she observes: “Far better collection than the rest of the Green Street [stores]”. And, with special reference to J. Junaid Jamshed, adds: “Great collection for both men/women”.

Many would disagree with the above assessment – we have seen above how quite a number of locals have expressed a rather deep, sentimental loyalty towards Doli London, which is also along Green Street.

Be that as it may, very many customer reviews can actually be all too negative about the quality of merchandise sold both at Green Street and High Street North. A local who had bought an outfit from Green Street’s Bombay Looks would write the following [and in direct contrast to some positive reviews on the outlet, as we have seen in discussing prices]: “Awful material. Very scratchy and badly stitched. Do not buy from here. The blouse sleeve was very very itchy. The whole outfit was not as shown in the picture”. It is possible that this reviewer wishes to compare Bombay Fashions with outlets such as J. Junaid Jamshed or Doli London, when he/she adds: “There are way better shops in Green Street”.

A customer of Green Street’s Mahir can be both scathingly critical of the outlet, while at the same time lauding its collections – we read: “Hygiene is awful. Clothes are dirty, un-sewed. But most colourful and has wide selection”.

Abru Classics [259 Green Street] is yet another store that has received critical reviews on the quality of its stock. One customer complains that “the gems [i.e. stones embellishing a dress, as in a Stonework Saree, cf. above] fall off as soon as you wear it [the dress]”. It is interesting to note that, in direct response to this complaint, the store’s owner-manager would take the initiative to respond to the customer – this is what he writes: “… we are sorry u found some stones coming off, we take every care to provide our customers the product in the best of quality but as it is man made items so some lapses can happen…”

Another customer of Abru Classics, while generally expressing positive impressions about the outlet’s garments, nonetheless addresses the same problem regarding stonework on dresses – he/she writes: “Very good place to shop for fancy Indian dress and dress pieces, but wish they’d use better glue for their stones, quality could be a lot better”. The owner-manager would again respond, this time as follows: “Thanx a lot for ur appreciation, we hv taken appropriate measures in regards to ur complain [sic]… hope problem will b rectified on priority basis”.

Shiffonz is another store that has received negative reviews – one of its customers has the following series of complaints about the garments she had bought from this outlet: “… The outfits I purchased do not last more then [sic] 2 uses, stitching fall apart and the colour fades after a wash…”

Many customers complain that at least some clothes shops sell garments that are “dated”, in the sense that their styles are outmoded or old-fashioned. The SSR Textiles London store, according to one review, does not stock “fashionable garments” and “all items look very dated”. Similarly, we have noted above how the Mahir store has been criticized for not having “updated their latest clothing range”, here with reference to Abayas.

Related to the issue of outmoded garments, there is also the problem of some stores selling unbranded attire [which is of course much cheaper than clothes sold under big brand names]. Poshak Mahal is one case which is said to deal in unbranded Pakistani garments [cf. above] – this is one reason why, according to some customers, the outlet does not stock “the greatest selection of clothes compared to the many others on Green Street” [as one representative customer review puts it]. Generally speaking, one has the sense that Poshak Mahal – like quite a number of clothes shops in the locality – is no longer what it used to be, at least in terms of the quality of brands it once stocked. One sample customer review observes: “Quality and design of the outfits are not what they use [sic] to be”.

The Daminis enterprise is likewise accused of no longer being what it was in the past. A customer observes: “They used to be the benchmark for Asian designer clothes shops in London… now they are a bunch of markets and other shops inside!” A second reviewer makes the exact same point – the enterprise, he/she asserts, is a “Shell of its former self, literally”. For a third sample customer, the quality of Daminis stock [and especially as regards Sarees] seems to encompass most of the problems touched on above – his/her review reads as follows: “Daminis sarees are third class sarees. I bought a saree from them when I opened the saree at home the glitters [or stones] are automatically fallen on floor… Their sarees like out market sarees. So awful. Boycott Daminis!”

The quality of merchandise that has finally come to be sold by East Ham clothes shops must be understood in the context of a race to survive the devastating impact of the 2008 financial crisis. While some stores could still continue concentrating on collections of “luxury apparel” meant for the upper-middle classes, others had to adjust and redirect their sales strategies in a manner that mostly catered for the minimalist needs of the popular masses belonging to various “cultural clusters”. Thus, while some outlets were able to maintain the original quality of their products, others had to downgrade such quality – many, as in the case of Daminis or Poshak Mahal, were to be reduced to a “shell” of their former selves, at least according to some customer reviews.

It is well beyond our intentions here to examine the precise ramifications of such crisis with respect to ethnic-based clothes shops in the area of East Ham and its environs. We may, nonetheless, keep certain very basic facts in mind. Firstly, and according to Neil Wrigley and Dionysia Lambiri, “The shockwave of global financial crisis tore through UK town centres and high streets in 2008 with dramatic effect. Consumer confidence collapsed and remained stubbornly negative for the next five years… Households saw growth in real gross disposable incomes slow markedly… as increases in inflation outstripped rises in average pay”. And further: “… fragile consumer confidence helped push many retailers… into liquidation” [cf. “British High Streets: from crisis to recovery?”, University of Southampton, https://www.thegreatbritishhighstreet.co.uk, March 2015, pp. 6-7]. Clothes shops were the retail outlets hardest hit – according to the House of Commons Library: “Since 2007, the retail sector with the most stores affected by company failures has been the clothing sector, accounting for 25% of all stores affected” [cf. Chris Rhodes, “Retail sector in the UK”, Briefing Paper Number SNO6186, 29.10.2018, p. 8].

Shops that were to survive the crisis had to adjust in some way – adjustment, however, could have its price, and especially when that meant downgrading the quality of one’s stock. For a certain category of locals, such downgrading would come to be accepted – it simply reflected their diminished buying power. For other segments, the degrading would literally infuriate them – we have noted how one Daminis customer would go so far as to call for the boycotting of the enterprise. Generally, in any case, locals would resignedly take to contrasting the quality of a store’s clothes sold in the past to the downgraded quality sold in the present. With respect to Mehndi – and despite the fact that this store has always been considered upmarket [cf. above] – a customer would write: “Used to be the place to go. Kind of fallen behind the competition at the moment”.

Customer service

In this sub-section, we shall be presenting snapshots of customer service in the clothes shops of the locality. All customer comments and circumstances described below can only but be of a subjective nature, but these do help in giving us some impression of the real life that goes on in these outlets – and thus one aspect of the real life in East Ham itself. Some of these snapshots are positive; others can be scathingly negative. Both dimensions need to be taken for what they are – viz. manifestations of the contradictory nature of much of social activity. We shall also be focusing on customer service as carried out by ethnic members of staff, and consider the possible implications of this, at least as regards relations within “cultural clusters” themselves.

The positive side

A local commenting on customer service at Poshak Mahal initially expresses the simple impression that there is a “lack of service” in the store, adding that such a situation is “often the case in Green Street”. What is of interest, however, is that the reviewer goes on to clarify that such “lack of service” does not at all apply to “known wedding shoppers”. One may thus draw the general conclusion that at least one category of regular customers in the Green Street part of the locality does, in fact, receive a favourable service.

Writing about Bombay Looks, a customer expresses his absolutely positive impression of the store, especially as regards service – we read: “One of my wife’s favourite shops, has a good selection of Asian clothes and the service is excellent very polite and welcoming and helpful”.

The Shiffonz store has also received positive reviews on its customer service – one customer writes as follows: “Visited the Green Street branch [of] Shiffonz yesterday my favourite shop in Green Street managed to choose my… outfit thanks to the very helpful [shop assistant]”.

As has been noted above in our discussion of Sherwanis, the shop assistants of J. Junaid Jamshed are said to be very assiduous in helping customers make the right choice of garment – a reviewer notes: “Outstanding and friendly customer service. Omar [either the owner-manager or a shop assistant] was a great help in guiding and showing me various Sherwanis and answering all my questions”. Another customer confirms such positive impression: “Excellent customer service. I was served by Ali and Ayesha and both were very welcoming and friendly… The store was also well laid out and the clothes and perfumes were very nice…” A third customer is yet again very positive as to customer service at Green Street’s J. Junaid Jamshed store – he/she, however, contrasts such positive customer service to that of the store’s Ilford Lane branch. The reviewer writes: “… It [the Green Street store] was a breath of fresh air compared to our experience with [the] JJ store on Ilford Lane the same day which left us feeling very disappointed… the Ilford Lane store need to seriously take some tips on how to treat your customers from these guys!...” The astounding richness of human subjectivity is, however, endless – yet another local feels altogether otherwise about the J. Junaid Jamshed branch at Ilford Lane, saying that “[The] Ilford Lane branch is fantastic with brilliant customer service!”

There are very many reviews on customer service that are both positive and negative all at the same time, and are thus typical of subjective ambiguity. One local, writing about Poshak Mahal, tells us that “Service is lacking, they barely speak to you”. The customer then immediately goes on to add the following observation on the question of service: “… but otherwise it’s quick and efficient”. We cannot say whether this particular customer is one of those “known wedding shoppers” to which the staff of Poshak Mahal practice a certain favouritism.

The negative side

We may begin presenting the negative side of impressions by quoting a local who makes the following general statement regarding most Asian clothes shops in the area – he/she tells us that acceptable customer service “is not what you typically find in Asian clothes stores from my experience”. For this commentator, the vast majority of East Ham stores are neither “welcoming” nor “friendly”.

In direct contrast to the very many positive impressions regarding J. Junaid Jamshed’s customer service, one local writes: “Very bad customer service! The lady working there (was told she’s the manager) had no manners whatsoever… she was very rude and abrupt… the environment is not friendly at all… very judgmental atmosphere!...”

The Shiffonz store is yet another case which has also had its negative reviews regarding its service – one of its customers notes: “Bad customer service. I was in the shop and the lady that ‘owns’ the shop told me to get my feet off the glass [the writer fails to explain further] which was very understandable… [However,] she was very abrupt and rude… You do not call that customer service, even if she thought I was rude she could’ve approached me in a more professional way as I was very minimal and literally minded my business as I felt the tension. So unprofessional…” Another customer, who had been trying on clothes at Shiffonz in an attempt to choose “nikkah” outfits for herself, has this to relate: “… one [member of] staff in particular was so damn rude she kept rolling her eyes and kept rushing me, when I explained this is for an occasion I need to try on these outfits and see which one fits best. The staff member on the shop floor kept stating are you going to buy this or not we have another customer, I felt shocked because I usually purchase a lot of clothes from Shiffonz”.

A customer at Zarkan of London writes about this store’s “disrespectful” shop assistants – we read that a member of its staff “accused my friend of taking pictures [of the outlet’s clothes] when actually she was sending messages and shouted at her in front of other customers which was absolutely disgusting. My friend was very embarrassed and upset by this so walked out. The other assist[ant] tried pulling the outfit scarf off me…”

We had noted above the “stress” that many locals experience at the Zarkan store when trying to select a bridal outfit – one such local notes: “… Dealing with this shop was by far the most stressful aspect of planning my whole wedding”. Another customer gives us a rather detailed description of her experience at Zarkan in trying to buy a bridal Lehenga – this is what the local writes: “We basically ordered [the bridal outfit]… from here. A couple of weeks later I went into [the] store to show my sister what we had ordered, but the sample one I had tried on wasn’t in the shop anymore. However when we were walking up the stairs, I saw the exact outfit at the bottom in a box. At the time I didn’t think anything of it and assumed it was another client’s order. However when it came to trying on my outfit, I realized it was actually the sample dress I had tried on at the shop! The lengha had snags all over (just like the one I tried), the blouse was also the same one! I had asked for [the] neckline to be changed but all they did was add extra material on the top! It looked hideous! I also asked for the sleeves to be longer length but it was the exact same length that I had tried on! The excuses they came up with especially… [reference to a particular shop assistant]… She wouldn’t even answer the phone and when she did she said she was the manager. Then when I said I’d be popping into [the] store to make a complaint she said the shop was closed, bearing in mind it was a Sunday and they’re open on weekends! All in all, the experience has been abysmal! Please stay away from them! They do not care about you! All they want is the money! And then hand you over an outfit that’s in fact the sample one in store that has been tried on by lots of people!... Nothing bespoke at all! Literally a joke! Hopefully they will get what’s coming…”

Locals have also been complaining about “unhelpful staff” at the Mahir store – one writes of Green Street outlets generally, but then specifically refers to Mahir: “The area has lots of shops selling men and women Indian wear. This place [Mahir] doesn’t need your money as their staff are unhelpful”. The particular local had requested Mahir staff to provide him/her with information regarding the Kurta Pyjama, and the only response – on the part of shop assistants – was that they had “murmured something in Hindu”.

Customers of SSR Textiles London have complained that members of staff are not merely unhelpful, they are also conceited – one local writes: “The sales ladies I believe are the owners daughters are damn rude and arrogant”. Further, the customer states that the shop’s sales ladies “are not busy”, perhaps insinuating in this way that they do not offer their practical assistance to potential clients.

The absence of practical assistance has also been noted in the case of Bombay Looks, although we need bear in mind that this store – in particular – has received a series of very contradictory reviews. One customer complains about the store’s service, though directs his/her grievance exclusively at management – we read: “Awful customer service from the managers at this store! They sit around on their phones not paying attention, sending other staff to attend the issue instead”.

Bombay Fashion Exclusive is a store that has come under especially heavy criticism regarding its service. One customer complains about “how long you have to wait for tailoring”. Another insinuates service inefficiency by simply describing the defects of a Salwar Kameez bought at this store: “The sizes of the top and bottoms are completely on a different scale of size. The labels are written both as the same size but the bottoms are a lot smaller in size than the salwar kameez. Regret buying this item”. A third customer, this time not a local, similarly complains about the size of the garment he/she had been sold: “I’m absolutely disgusted, went in and got presents for my father and told them I was coming from afar. I requested size 42 and they gave a massive size in the bag…” We have yet a fourth customer who also expresses dissatisfaction about matters related to garment size – we read: “Worst place to shop. We place an [sic] large order which he [either the owner or a shop assistant] took measurements for. One month later our order arrived and the measurements were wrong. We asked him for… a… correction of our clothes. The guy got really aggressive, started swearing and threating [sic] us. He raised his voice and was speaking all sorts of rubbish. He basically accepted blame without caring or willing to do anything. Claiming it is our fault he got the measurements wrong. This place doesn’t deserve any money or customers. They haven’t got basic human decency… This is a disgusting place. They also have cockroaches in there [sic] changing rooms”. A final customer review that is as highly critical of Bombay Fashion Exclusive reads as follows: “Do not buy from this shop!!! Ordered a dress from this shop and the dress that arrived was the wrong colour. Owner was extremely rude and refused to apologize. We stated that we would never be buying from him again and he responded by saying ‘that’s fine, I have a big clientele’. The female assistant in the shop was also rude and unhelpful. The owner is a scammer…”

Daminis London, despite being a deeply rooted “commercial community mamma’s shop” – as Parminder Bhachu has described it [op. cit.] – has itself received its fair share of criticisms over the question of customer service. To begin with, one reviewer expresses the general view that shops along High Street offer a much better service than that of Daminis – he/she puts it very succinctly: “Stay away! Much better shops on the High Street”. A second reviewer, contrasting the store to other ones on Green Street, writes: “Extremely rude staff! I was going to purchase my wedding outfit from here but walked straight out because of the rude staff. I was about to spend £400 on a nice piece but decided not to. I would definitely recommend searching elsewhere along Green Street as you can find some lovely shops with nice staff who are willing to help”. A third reviewer, confirming that Daminis has been reduced to a “Shell of its former self” [op. cit.], writes as follows, here focusing on service in particular: “The worst customer service I’ve come across in a long time! The miserable old cow [Mrs. Damini herself?] behind the till was amazingly useless and rude!... This was once a go to shop for Asian dresses and the high level of service they provided. But these days it’s just an old name cringing [sic] on to the name and reputation from a decade ago. This shop is now officially the worst place on the strip!” A fourth reviewer notes: “Rude, non-communicative staff who look incredible [sic] bored, and look as if they really don’t want to be there”. A fifth simply observes: “Pathetic customer service”. Last, though certainly not least, there is even a complaint about a certain form of “sexual harassment” that is supposedly happening to young female customers in the store – a customer writes as follows: “Oh, and then there’s the pervy [meaning pervert] old bald guy who takes every opportunity to tell you he’s the owner and offering to measure any young girl personally. Yuk!” The latter observation is of course outrageous – it is possible that the writer is simply being vindictive for personal reasons.

Customer service – the ethnic dimension

“Cultural clusters” are also “commercial cultural clusters” – clothes shops within such “clusters” are owned and/or managed by members of ethnic minorities. The shops mainly serve locals belonging to these ethnic minority groups. It is therefore natural that all or most shop assistants also belong to such ethnic minorities, and this in some way can often colour the form that customer service takes.

Zarkan of London employs ethnic staff – one such member of staff is briefly presented to us by a local who did her shopping at the store. She writes: “… I got married 4 months ago… I walked by this store and tried a few dresses. Then I fell in love with one dress, but I needed a couple of alterations. We decided to buy the dress and the lady who helped us… [was a] Pakistani lady from Lahore with a scarf…”

At least one shop assistant at RDC London, it is said, cannot speak English properly or not at all [which is a bit surprising, as this store is said to be particularly of the upmarket category]. One regular customer notes: “… the women [sic] assistant couldn’t speak English and was continually rude from the start!... Horrible service from a brand like RDC. I’m truly upset as I spend a lot of money in that shop for various occasions over the years!” The RDC shop assistant, obviously a member of an ethnic minority, was communicating in her mother tongue, as so often happens in the locality of East Ham [cf. Jonnie Robinson, “British accents and dialects”, https://www.bl.uk, 24.04.2019 – this text briefly explains the widespread use of Asian and Caribbean mother tongues in the UK]. We cannot say why the customer in question could not understand the assistant’s mother tongue or why she in any case preferred to communicate in the English language.

We have noted above how Shiffonz has been criticized for its unprofessional customer service – this, however, is often put down to the fact that members of staff belong to ethnic minorities [paradoxically, of course, such criticism comes from members of ethnic minorities themselves]. One customer puts it as follows: “Disgusting customer service. These Asian female workers think they know it all. So big headed”. A second customer is much more explicit with respect to the ethnic origins of a particular Shiffonz assistant, assuming that whatever “rudeness” or “unprofessionalism” is explainable in term of such origins – we read: “… she needs to acknowledge the fact that she’s not in her country were [sic] she may have learnt all these bad attributes and picked up bad customer service skills from. We live in the United Kingdom, wake up this is not were [sic] you have come from. Customer service is vital…” [my emph.]. Finally, yet another Shiffonz customer complains as follows: “Their dress fitting is as terrible as their customer service… typical Asian ladies”.

The “globalization” of fashion trends; the question of “ethno-globalization”; and the dress codes of East Ham’s “cultural clusters”

We have thus far presented empirical data – as also the sentiments of concrete individuals – regarding ethnic attire in the area of East Ham. This constitutes a more or less substantial empirical framework within which we may attempt to explain the cultural practices of attire in ethnic “cultural clusters” of the type we find in East Ham and its environs. As mentioned in our introduction to this paper, our initial question shall have to be the following: is it at all true to suggest that the average concrete individual belonging to East Ham’s ethnic minority groups dresses according to stereotypes promoted by “globalized” brands of the fashion industry? This question generates yet a further problem: what exactly does one mean when one speaks of “globalization” in the fashion industry? Would it not be more accurate to speak here of “ethno-globalization”, whereby fashion designs express the distinct ethnic tastes of a specific geographical region such as the Indian subcontinent, the clothes industry of which has gone “global”? And is it not true to say that such “ethno-globalization” naturally appeals to people of that region who have finally “settled” in a foreign land such as the UK?

These are very general questions that can only be answered with a string of caveats [and which we do intend to explore in some detail below, despite the intrinsic difficulties]. But in any case these general questions can allow us to become more specific in the process of analyzing such a complex reality. For instance, to what extent does East Ham’s average concrete individual possess the capacity – be this economic or extra-economic – to indulge in the sporting of “ethno-globalized” fashions? And who, for that matter, constitutes the “average” person in East Ham? No one need be a so-called trained “sociologist” to detect the obvious class-based cleavages that characterize the whole of the Borough of Newham, something which may itself determine [or may not] the clothes one wears on a daily basis.

To begin with, one cannot but acknowledge that East Ham’s clothes market does include a large array of “luxury designer outfits” targeting its locals [though also many “outsiders” visiting the area in search of ethnic attire]. This would suggest that locals – and especially women – are what we may call “fashion conscious”. Such consciousness, of course, may stand in some uneasy contradistinction to the specific “ethnic” or “ethno-religious” consciousness of people belonging to “cultural clusters”. Such contradistinction may be taken to be a mere fact of life amongst ethnic minorities – but that may be so only to the extent that certain compromises and adjustments have to be made [and are usually made] so as to accommodate differences between these apparently dissimilar types of mindsets embodied in a single individual.

“Luxury designer outfits” are sold – or may be merely promoted as such – by many of the outlets we have been referring to above. We shall here briefly present some sample stores that are said to specialize in that type of upmarket fashion outfit.

We have already noted how quite a number of “Units” hosted by the East Shopping Centre are said to deal in “luxury designer” collections, such as – amongst other types of garments – Saree outfits. The “ethno-global” element is here distinctly prevalent.

The “ethno-global” element is also evident in attire sold by the Shopping Centre’s Zarkan of London which, as we have elsewhere seen, presents itself as an “upmarket boutique” selling “designer” clothes.

Reva’s Fashions, the store located along High Street North, announces on its Facebook Page that it deals in the “latest fashion”. Presumably, this implies that the store informs its stock according to the most up to date “ethno-global” fashion trends.

We have noted that customers frequenting Green Street’s Mahir store are especially “fashion conscious”, expecting to find therein updated “trendy” and “elegant” attire. They will often express a certain disappointment on discovering that stocks have yet to be renewed, again presumably in keeping with the latest in “ethno-global” trends.

The Rasam Gayatri Silks store, according to the Indian Business Directory, chooses to promote its attire for men, women and kids as “fashion clothing”. Its stock might not necessarily be representative of the latest “ethno-global” trends, but its promotional emphasis on “fashion” does seem to pander to the “fashion conscious” needs of at least a segment of East Ham’s “settler” residents. The same may be said of Ruby Fashions, which chooses to present itself as an “Indian Ladies Fashion Shop”. Likewise, and as we have seen above, Rani Fashions announces that it deals in all types of “fashion clothing” for women.

Finally, Daminis presents itself as a store that sells the latest fashion attire in “Indian designerwear”.

It may argued that this phenomenon of “luxury designer outfits” being sold along the streets of East Ham is a direct reflection of the “globalized” fashion industry. Since all such upmarket attire is designed in some way or other according to cultural standards set by countries such as India, it may be further argued that these outfits are more accurately a reflection of an “ethno-globalized” fashion industry. And it could thus be argued that it is within this context of “ethno-globalization” that many of East Ham’s clothes stores attempt to promote their merchandise as “trendy” and themselves as “boutiques”.

There is much truth in such a general understanding of the cultural practices revolving around ethnic attire in a locality such as East Ham. However, there is as much a distortion of the reality as there is a truth in it. We shall never be able to attain an accurate explanatory picture of the manner in which East Ham’s “cultural clusters” choose to dress unless we delineate a combinatory of factors determining such choice. Before we undertake such an investigation of factors, we may simply entertain a number of issues that could seriously qualify the idea that “ethno-globalization” is the all-powerful determinant of the way people dress in East Ham, or qualify the idea that each and every female East Hammer sports – or wishes to sport – a “luxury designer outfit”.

A perfect example of such “luxury designer outfit” is what has come to be called the “New Age Sari” – the crucial question, however, is this: who precisely is it that wears such garment, whether somewhere in India or in East Ham itself? An important study entitled The Cultures of Economic Migration: International Perspectives [Suman Gupta and Tope Omoniyi (eds.), Routledge, 2016, p. 201 et al] presents us with information that explains both the specifications of such “New Age Sari” and the particular social categories that are most likely to adopt it as their own style of dress. We read: “With the liberalization of the Indian market in the 1990’s, once again the ‘sari’ is emerging as an erotic wrap for some upper class, trendy women… The blouse is being discarded (in some cases), and the ‘sari’ itself is changing in size, altering its form and being tied in a variety of new ways (sometimes so as to show the navel). By 2002 this trend, at least in the upper echelons, had gained strength and Indian designers began to think of this new kind of ‘sari’ like fusion music. In contrast to the conventional draping style the New Age ‘sari’ can be made to look like a divided skirt, flowing trousers, or even an ankle-length dress. Thus, the ‘sari’ has once again become a functional, heady mix of sex appeal, feminine mystery, elegance, individuality and adaptability” [my emph.]. There are two basic points that one can surmise from this text: First, that the cultural root-source of such “New Age” ethnic attire is India itself – it was the Indian market that had been “liberalized” and it was specifically Indian designers that did the thinking as to the new form/s such attire would take. One should, therefore, more accurately speak of “ethno-globalization” [a term much more restricted in terms of the implied cultural catchment area] rather than of “globalization” [it being all-inclusive and running across all of the world’s pre-existing cultures]. To put it otherwise, it had been none other than the Indian clothing market – and the cultural products of its Indian designers – that had “migrated” to a series of geographical spots hosting ethnic “settlers” who would not cut the umbilical cord connecting them to their homeland. Second – and perhaps much more importantly for us at this stage – such “New Age” ethnic attire has been generally limited to segments of the “upper classes” or to people belonging to “the upper echelons” of a society.

Such an understanding of ethnic attire, however, also calls for a certain qualification. Above, we had suggested that it could be seen as oversimplistic [or at least one-sided] to present “globalization” – or better “ethno-globalization” – as the all-powerful determinant of the manner that people dress in a locality such as East Ham. But, then, it could also be quite oversimplistic to suggest that the forces of “ethno-globalization” have only had an impact on East Ham’s “upper classes” or “upper echelons”, leaving the rest of its residents completely unadulterated. While it may be true that the products of “ethno-globalization” are mainly adopted by the middle- or upper-middle classes, it is as true to say that the fashion designs of such “ethno-globalization” also percolate into the ranks of common working people [and even amongst those without a steady job, or those that operate within the area’s “informal sector”]. To put it simply, it may be argued that the designs of “ethno-globalization” do creep into the lives of all and sundry via cheap ready-made clothes that are imitative of the “New Age” attire. Such an observation shall itself have to remain tentative, and especially as regards its implications concerning the nature of East Ham’s various “cultural clusters” [pending our discussion of the possible combinatory of forces determining people’s choices regarding how they dress] – yet still, the question of ready-made ethnic attire constitutes an important dimension of UK’s ethnic clothing market.

We may here present a couple of representative examples of outlets that deal in ready-made clothes. Choudhary Fashion, located along High Street North, sells “Ready Made Clothes” for men, women and children – much of this being “casual wear” [cf. the Indian Business Directory]. While it is not explicitly specified that Choudhary Fashions imports its ready-made garments directly from India, this is definitely a common practice amongst many outlets selling ready-made clothes.

Quite a number of customers that have ordered outfits from Zarkan of London clearly state that their purchases are to be imported from India. It is also true, however, that as many customers choose to doubt that what they have ordered does in fact come from India, and that, despite what the owners of the store declare. One customer who had chosen to buy a particular dress at Zarkan was told that a facsimile of it, together with the necessary alterations, would be ordered from India [“the lady who helped us… told me she would order it from India”]. In contrast, yet another Zarkan customer complains as follows: “It [the outfit] never goes to India [for alterations] or wherever they say they get it made from!” Of course, to the extent that there is a certain truth in what the latter customer is saying, this raises a variety of questions regarding ready-made “imported” clothes [we shall be coming back to this and related issues in some detail below].

At face value, at least, the question of imported ready-made clothes – viz. attire expressive of “ethno-globalized” fashion trends – allows us to raise a couple of questions absolutely pertinent to the purposes of the paper. Firstly, if it is true that a large number of East Ham residents do buy ready-made clothes coming from India, then the impact of “ethno-globalization” may not be limited to the locality’s “upper classes” or “upper echelons”. But, then, we shall need to investigate who or what determines the exact specifications of a design in this dialectical chain linking three separate entities – i.e. the local customer vis-à-vis the local store, and the latter vis-à-vis the Indian design industry. It cannot be taken as an obvious given that, within this dialectical chain, it is the Indian design industry that is overdeterminant as regards the design of a garment worn by an East Hammer. If it is not the Indian industry that is overdeterminant, then the impact of “ethno-globalization” on East Ham’s popular masses shall have to be seriously qualified. Secondly, the suggestion that large numbers of East Hammers simply choose to wear India’s “globalized” ready-made clothes seems to imply that the “cultural milieu” of any “cultural cluster” in East Ham is a blind tabula rasa open to the whims of indiscrete market forces and the fashion trends these happen to forge. The idea that an “ethno-globalized” fashion trend can simply be imposed onto a community can only be fallacious: nothing that is simply imposed can possibly serve the vital cultural needs of a cohesive “cultural cluster” operating within a fairly hostile or alien cultural environment like that of the UK [the majority of the country’s population being White, secular-thinking citizens].

These are some of the issues to be thrashed out below. For some analysts, in contrast, the question of “globalized” fashion and its impact on UK’s ethnic minorities is dealt with in a typically superficial manner – their purpose is overtly political, aimed at promoting the agenda of “multiculturalism” and/or “assimilation”. For them, it is safer to present any Muslim woman residing somewhere in London as simply part of the modern, “cosmopolitan” reality of the 21st century. Consider the following sample taken from a “study” by Reina Lewis [Muslim Fashion: Contemporary Style Cultures, Duke University Press, 2015]: “In the shops of London’s Oxford Street… young Muslim women are part of an emergent cross-faith transnational youth subculture of modest fashion” [cf. Summary, https://www.muse.jhu.edu/book/69040]. We are further informed that this “study” “contextualizes modest wardrobe styling within Islamic and global consumer culture…” We do not intend to deal with abstract [and ideologically “interested”] generalizations such as “emergent”, “cross-faith”, “transnational” and suchlike. One may here simply dwell on just one term – that of “modest fashion” – and point to its possibly daunting implications not touched on by the likes of Reina Lewis. Above, in our presentation of the Abaya cloak, we had seen how the Jilbab ‘R’ Us store – located within the East Shopping Centre – had also presented its stock as “fashionable modest wear”. Such “modesty”, we had observed, has a clear religious function – it is meant to “protect” Muslim women from the opposite sex. It is difficult to see how this type of functionality is “modern” enough to be an organic part of 21st century youth culture or an expression of “global consumer culture”. In terms of modern or postmodern Western culture, “modest wear” is expressive of a religious obscurantism that belongs to a distant past. That, however, is not at all how Muslim “cultural clusters” in localities such as East Ham choose to think – and that has to be respected, thereby rendering the phenomenon an object for serious sociological analysis. It is precisely such analysis that follows below.

The combinatory of factors determining manner of dress in a locality such as East Ham

Our general theoretical framework has already been briefly presented in our introduction to this paper – questions related to such framework have been raised whenever the need arose. Before undertaking a discrete examination of each of the factors determining manner of dress, we shall here attempt to expound our overall view in more general terms – of course, unless such general terms are shown to apply to real, concrete people, we too risk falling into the theoreticist tap usually representative of present-day academic chairs. The basic points of this theoretical framework are the following:

• The general phenomenon of a “globalized fashion industry” cannot be denied as a reality of the postmodern world.

• The specific phenomenon of ethnic-based, local “cultural clusters” in the UK can also not be denied as a reality.

• It is the ways in which these two realities – the general and the specific – relate to one another that needs to be investigated.

• The general phenomenon of a “globalized fashion industry” must be further subdivided into two distinct, though not unrelated, realities. On the one hand, one may speak of a true “globalization” in fashion whereby there is a certain cultural fusion between, say, the styles of the Western world and those of the East, or even of past residual styles and those of the so-called postmodern present. On the other hand, one may speak of a “globalization” stunted by ethnic subcultures that have spread across the world, thereby yielding what we have termed “ethno-globalization” [Bollywood here being a perfect example]. At least at a theoretical level, both of these subdivisions must be assumed to be of equal weight and value. For purely practical purposes, we may henceforth speak of a “true globalization” [T.G.] and of a “stunted globalization” [S.G.]. By the way, the former may never come to be “true” at all, in the sense of ever becoming a truly all-inclusive steamrolling force across the globe – on the other hand, it may be said to be “true” if contrasted to the latter, which is a “global” trend stunted by ethnic forces also traversing the globe.

• Both T.G. and S.G. have their specific impact on ethnic-based, local “cultural clusters” in the UK [such as those in East Ham], as also on socio-cultural formations operating outside the confines of a “cultural cluster” [such as in the Square Mile and its “City-type” mindset]. The discrete impact of either T.G. or of S.G. [or of some combination of these] can be “strong”, “weak” or somewhere in-between, depending on which cultural formation or sub-formation we happen to be referring to within the UK. By “strong” or “weak” we mean to describe the extent to which a local cultural formation passively or actively receives either T.G. or S.G., allowing these – or maybe even disallowing them – to blend with their pre-existing cultural milieu. For instance, in the case of the “City-type” – operating in an environment of cultural “integration” or that of “multiculturalism” – the wearing of a Hijab could mainly be seen as an expression of “fashionable” wear in the context of a “cosmopolitan” convergence of peoples [a “strong blending” with either T.G. or S.G.]. In contrast, the wearing of a Hijab in London’s inner city localities – operating in an environment of a relative cultural “segregation” – could mainly be seen as an expression of ethno-religious practices meant to assert one’s separate identity vis-à-vis the rest [a “weak blending” with either T.G. or S.G.].

• The “weakness” or “strength” in the blending process is determined by very specific [albeit entangled] factors, each of which can clearly be delineated, as they will be here. But the problem is not really that simple at all – we shall have to emphasize that it is precisely the entangled combination of all of these discrete factors that determines the “weakness” or “strength” of the impact of T.G. and/or S.G., and with specific reference to East Ham’s “cultural clusters”. Our presentation of the array of determining factors shall therefore have to remain incomplete, at least as regards their interrelationship – an analysis of the precise forms that such a combinatory takes within “cultural clusters” and at a particular point in time remains well beyond our means [presupposing as it does long-term research based on direct field work in such localities].

• FACTOR I: Class-based/ethnic-based poverty in the UK – viz. class-based economic capacities or the absence of such capacities within specific ethnic groups, and the implications of this with respect to how one dresses.

• FACTOR II: “Cultural cluster” self-survivalism and the need for “safety” and/or “protection” in the face of other UK “cultural clusters”; as also in the face of the uneven and destructive impact of the different forms of “globalization” [T.G. or S.G.] – the need for cultural authenticity, cohesion and self-assertive resilience. The implications of this with respect to manner of dress.

• FACTOR III: The natural “pull” of the aesthetics of the pre-existing local cultural milieu – the aesthetic “selectivity” of local cultures vis-à-vis the different manifestations of “globalization” [T.G. and S.G.], and the balance of mutual “adjustments” that take place between these two interfaces. The question of “resistance” to “New Age” Indian fashion, and the implications of this as to how one dresses – and this, well outside the need for “safety” and “protection”, it being a question of mere aesthetic choice and/or of the dominance of localized “ethnic circuits”.

• FACTOR IV: Local customer initiatives with respect to style or manner of dress – group and/or individual preferences. The functionality of “self-designing” and of local tailoring practices versus “global” brand designs and their stereotypes.

• FACTOR V: The local manufacturing of ethnic clothes – the traditional and mainly Asian-owned East End clothing industry – versus the “globalization” of the fashion industry [T.G. or S.G.]. The continuing economic resilience of such local ethnic minority entrepreneurship in the UK clothing sector, and the implications of this as to manner of dress within localities such as East Ham.

• FACTOR VI: The relationship between manner of dress and religious practices in the “cultural clusters” of localities such as East Ham.

These are the six basic factors which, in a myriad of internal combinations, can determine people’s manner of dress. Of course, both the factors per se and their combinations can never be static. Whatever is suggested below is simply based on a theoretical “freezing” of the socio-cultural “moment”. And yet, one can fairly safely assert that, while both T.G. and S.G. may have a fairly ubiquitous impact on the members of a “cultural cluster”, such impact is delimited and constrained by all of the six factors delineated above – for it is these very factors that define important dimensions in the life of whichever “cultural cluster”.

Factor I: the question of poverty

An East Hammer does not simply choose the clothes he/she purchases depending on his or her consumer capacity. Such capacity does, however, bear upon the choices one makes. This is almost inevitable, especially in cases where a family lives in a relative poverty. It is said that “1 in 5 Newham households lives in poverty” [cf. Financial Times, 18.06.2020].

It seems practically impossible to delimit the impact of a “globalized” fashion industry [whether in the form of T.G. or S.G.] on East Ham households without considering the reality of a class-based poverty in the borough [as in other UK geographical regions]. For our purposes, the reality of a relative poverty becomes all the more significant if we further consider that such poverty is also ethnic-based. The tight relationship between poverty and ethnic minority groups has been examined in much detail by Lucinda Platt, in her work, Poverty and Ethnicity in the UK, University of Essex, 2007.

As would any academic, Platt dwells much on the question of defining poverty. Perhaps unaware that her “analyses” of poverty verge on being absolutely platitudinous, she tells us that her study is to adopt an “income measure of poverty” [p. ix]. She also tells us that the latter relates to “deprivation” – as she writes: “deprivation was conceived as stemming from lack of income” [ibid.]. While we do know that there are different ways of measuring poverty, Platt’s pronouncements are really quite commonplace. Need we say, for instance, that “deprivation” relates to a non-access to goods such as clothes, and especially so when it comes to “fashionable” clothes of the type promoted by “global” fashion brands? As to different measures of poverty and “deprivation”, Platt presents us with examples “such as lack of material goods and duration of poverty, as well as income insecurity”. “Deprivation” itself, we are informed, “is a wide-ranging term… It can cover a lack of material possessions, such as warm clothing…” [ibid.]. The reference to “warm clothing” is perhaps of some interest for our purposes – someone deprived of such clothing would obviously not bother to keep up with the latest in “global” fashion trends.

And yet, and despite the various theoretical verbosities, Platt’s work is important – her usage of different measures of poverty and “deprivation” has enabled her to come up with significant findings on the question of ethnic-based poverty. Importantly, she notes that what her research work has found were “differences in poverty by ethnic group” [ibid.].

In fact, Platt’s work goes on to identify “stark differences in rates of poverty” based on the particular ethnic group one belongs to in the UK [ibid. my emph.]. Such “stark differences” are related directly to “ethnicity”, to “migrant background” and even to “religious affiliation” [ibid.]. Her findings, therefore, are directly applicable to our definition of ethnic-based “cultural clusters” of the type concentrated in and around East Ham.

Platt summarizes her findings as follows: “… all identified minority ethnic groups [in the UK] had higher rates of poverty than the average for the population. Rates of poverty were highest for Bangladeshis, Pakistanis and Black Africans, reaching nearly two thirds for Bangladeshis. Rates of poverty were also higher for those living in Indian, Chinese and other minority ethnic group households” [ibid., my emph.].

Specifically comparing the case of Pakistanis with that of Bangladeshis, she writes: “Pakistanis were found to be nearly as poor as Bangladeshis on many counts, but there appeared to be differences in degree” [p. x].

With respect to the question of savings, Platt finds that “Many minority ethnic groups had no savings, although the Indian group was an exception” [ibid., my emph.].

However, and as is to be expected, the phenomenon of poverty is not merely ethnic-based – given the internal class stratification within any “cultural cluster”, there are variations of poverty or lack of poverty within ethnic groups themselves, pointing to an obvious class-based poverty. Platt summarizes this reality as follows: “In addition to extensive variation in experience [of poverty] between [ethnic] groups, there is also substantial variation within [these] groups… Recognition of within-group diversity [i.e. diversity as regards the experience of poverty] challenges forms of explanation based around ethnicity or religious affiliation… Nevertheless, recognition of diversity should not detract from the high risks of poverty associated with particular ethnic identities or categories” [ibid.].

The variation in the experience of poverty within an ethnic group – symptomatic of the social stratification within “cultural clusters” – may be corroborated by an excellent quote made available to us by Bhachu, in her study Dangerous Designs [op. cit.]. Mrs. Damini of Daminis London is quoted as saying the following: “… the first generation did not spend so much money on clothes. They used to make a few suits and wear them all their life. I am talking about India in my time… India’s young generation and also those here in England, they want to go to one party and they want a new suit. They do not want to wear that again a second time. So naturally there would be demand. It’s the same here. Like, for example, I had a customer in the shop yesterday. They bought four suits for their small kids for £400 each. I told them to get them made a little big so they can wear them for a while. She replied immediately that they will not wear it a second time. In the past, they used to make one suit do the rounds for four weddings!” [p. 108].

Bhachu may therefore go ahead and write of “flooded markets” [based on Mrs. Damini’s reference to the continual “demand” for outfits] and the “rapid obsolescence of suits” [ibid]. Obviously, however, that is only a part of the reality, generally expressive of particular social strata that can afford such type of consumerism, or that can be receptive to “globalized” fashion trends. This cannot apply to the vast majority of people residing in East Ham, or in the East End generally. A study of this region undertaken by Panikos Panayi accurately refers to it as a “Migrant City” and confirms that it is “Associated with the poorest of migrants”, and which has therefore “attracted the gaze of sociologists” [cf. Migrant City: A New History of London, Yale University Press, 2020, pagination unavailable online, my emph.]. In examining the case of Newham generally [cf. Paper 3], we had noted that this is “one of the most deprived local authority areas in the country”, as recorded in the 2017 “Newham Character Study”. We had further examined the high rate of unemployment in the borough, as also the phenomenon of “cultural worklessness”. Such socio-economic conditions cannot be ignored in any discussion attempting to understand the manner in which people dress, and the extent to which they can follow the trends of either T.G. or S.G.

It is such relative socio-economic “deprivation” that allows us to explain the type of comments recorded by customers of East Ham clothes shops on the question of prices [as presented above]. We may here reiterate comments on clothes prices such as the following: “overpriced”; “avoid”; “very expensive products”; “unreasonable prices”; “extortionate”; “unbelievably high prices for outfits”, and so on. In itself, such type of commentary may not necessarily point to the poverty of East Ham’s local consumers – it may, however, indicate the extent to which many consumers belonging to ethnic minorities do not possess the economic capacity to indulge in the “luxury” products of “global” fashion brands.

Factor II: the question of self-survivalism

The need for a “safe” or a “protective” social environment in the face of blind “globalizing” forces, as also in the face of alien “cultural clusters”, can yield self-survivalist social practices informed by specific cultural practices. Naturally, such cultural practices would also include specific dress codes.

The impact of “globalization” on UK’s “cultural clusters”, and the need for cultural cohesion in response to such impact, has been examined with some rigour by Paul Kennedy, in his study entitled Local Lives and Global Transformations: Towards World Society, Macmillan International Higher Education, 2009. Based on his research work, Kennedy makes the following revealing observations with respect to ethnic-based “cultural clusters” in the localities of the UK:

• “Here”, he writes, “for many people, globalization, Western life and modernization are perceived as undermining the viability of traditional cultures and sacred beliefs…” [p. 185, my emph.]. Given such possible erosion of traditions and beliefs, the cultural milieu of a locality – as crystallized in a “cultural cluster” – needs to preserve its cohesion and maintain its own “safety”.

• Such need for “safety” is evident, for example, amongst Asian women living in their “cultural clusters”. Kennedy observes: “For Asian women… the home area of family and ethnic life offered safety” [p. 181]. That, however, is not at all a feeling limited to a particular age group or, as we shall further see below, to females.

• The “safety” of a “cultural cluster” would only be secured if that cluster sustained and reproduced itself as a relatively tight social formation. Its sustainment and reproduction would mean that members of the “cultural cluster” would have to abide by specific codes of the home area, thereby securing its cohesion. These codes would, of course, also entail manner of dress. Kennedy puts this as follows – he writes that there would be “the risk of gossip” in the community “if [especially young female’s] actions contravened expected codes of Asian female demeanour or were regarded as threatening family honour, for example in respect to dress” [ibid., my emph.]. This “risk of gossip” would thus be at least one manner in which a certain “communal pressure” would be exercised on members of the “cultural cluster” so as to maintain cohesion and bolster “safety”.

• Kennedy further observes that even in cases were young Asian females would at times choose to “escape” such “communal pressure”, they would do so in ways that would not destabilize the internal cohesion and order of their “cultural cluster”. For those young women who wished to “escape” whatever form of “communal pressure”, he writes, they would opt to visit different geographical locations so as to “experiment”. The implication is that such young women would never violate the codes of their own home area as such – the latter would maintain its cohesion of codes and norms. Further, such women would not try “to break with communal sexual codes or to rebel against their ethnic background”. And finally, even when these women visited different geographical locations, they would “enjoy the company of other young women both from their own and other Asian ethnic groups” [ibid.]. They would therefore primarily socialize with members of ethnic groups sharing similar origins, customs and traditions – and thus they would again not destabilize norms or threaten the family honour expressive of their own “cultural cluster”.

• Such type of self-protective and self-survivalist behaviour is not limited to young Asian females – survivalist behaviour based on a consciousness of ethnic identity and its norms is also evident amongst young males, and which would include males belonging to different “cultural clusters” of various ethnic minority groups. Kennedy writes: “Like the Asians, [young Afro-Caribbean men]… evinced a clear sense of ethnic identity, as being ‘black’. For example, many felt a strong allegiance towards the particular Caribbean island from which their parents had originally come. Moreover, in pursuing their weekend or evening leisure activities most tried to remain within their own social and spatial nexus…” [ibid.]. Again, it would be the need for “safety” that would prompt such young males to adhere to the cohesion of their ethnic identity, both socially and spatially.

• Kennedy, therefore, clearly identifies “the tendency for individuals to seek the safety of their [socio-spatial nexus]” – viz. the safety of “their own ethnic/national social milieu whether because of shared communication and life worlds or their mutual fear of encountering prejudice” [ibid., my emph.]. Of course, this “fear of encountering prejudice” points to the existence of possibly alien “cultural clusters” in adjacent neighbourhoods. Such “fear”, however, is also a product of circumstances going well beyond the local environment – members of “cultural clusters” can be as much threatened by the manner in which “globalization” [whether T.G. or S.G.] can have a direct or indirect impact on their lives.

• Kennedy writes: “At the same time, most find it difficult to understand the changes [of “globalization”] engulfing them”. Such changes “threaten their daily lives and identities” [p. 185, my emph.].

• It is what Kennedy describes as “the uneven and often destructive impact of globalization” that threatens the members of UK’s “cultural clusters”. And it is precisely because of such threat that one sees “the sheer power of the local in all of its forms”. Such “local”, Kennedy explains, “absorbs and diverts [them], filling [their] micro-worlds with loyalties, responsibilities and meanings which satisfy most of [their] needs” [ibid., my emph.].

• It is therefore the impact of “globalization” itself that, to a large extent, explains “the resilience of the local influences”. “Here”, continues Kennedy, “the pull of the local may be even more overwhelming and difficult to resist just because of the protection and security it is perceived as providing” [ibid., my emph]. This “resilience” and “pull” of the “local”, of course, may also be explained by factors other than those related to the impact of “globalization” per se [to be presented in discussing Factor III].

• The overall conclusions that Kennedy draws from his research work help us understand why large swathes of the “cultural clusters” concentrated in localities such as East Ham would adopt a negative stance to the phenomenon of “globalization”, be it T.G. or S.G. It goes without saying that such negative stance would also apply to the manner in which East Ham’s ethnic minorities would choose to dress. Much of the types of attire we have been discussing above – cf. Types of ethnic attire worn in the region of East Ham – must be seen as representative of people’s negative reactions to “globalization” and its fashion brands. This is how Kennedy presents his overall conclusions – he writes: “the responses [of ethnic minority communities to “globalization”]… involve a retreat into primordial cultural bunkers… and/or engaging in desperate attempts to return to their roots through re-indigenization, the assertion of subregional identities or re-ethnicization” [ibid., my emph.].

Factor III: the natural “pull” of local aesthetics

The manner in which people dress may also be explained in terms of the natural “pull” factor exercised by the local cultural milieu itself and the aesthetic values that define it. This factor must be considered as totally independent of whatever need for “safety” and “protection” from external forces [despite its independence, however, it does articulate closely with Factor II, amongst others].

The natural “pull” of local aesthetics is expressive of the tendency, on the part of local cultures, to select what people wear. “Selectivity” is the key word in this case – it points to active subjects that do not passively receive what is presented to them as “global brands” by the mass media [especially of the R.G. type].

Dress historians have certainly noted this phenomenon of local cultural “selectivity”. We may here consider Margaret Maynard’s work, Dress and Globalization – Studies in Design and Material Culture, Manchester University Press, 2004. A “synopsis” of this book informs us that its purpose is to dispel “the myth of universal ‘world’ attire”. Further, “By discussing the nature of globalization, this book shows that… all cultures are selective in their choice of what to wear” [cf., inter alia, https://www.abebooks.com, my emph.].

Above, we had referred to the “New Age Sari”, and how such attire may be worn by members of the Indian “upper class” [cf. the study edited by Gupta and Omoniyi, The Cultures of Economic Migration, op. cit.]. It has been argued, however, that even in the case of such “New Age” Indian dress, one may generally observe a “resistance” to the type of garments expressive of R.G., this being prompted by the wish for “authentic” Indian dress. Both the “resistance” and the need for “authenticity” may be understood in terms of the “selectivity” exercised by local “cultural clusters”, with their specific aesthetic values at times operating as a “blocking” factor to at least R.G. styles.

With respect to people belonging to the Indian ethnic group, the Gupta and Omoniyi study notes: “… [T]here is a growing resistance to Western influences and a renewed search for an ‘authentic’ Indian dress, which is both non-Western and fashionable, is on…” [p. 201 et al, my emph.].

Thus, the study continues, “… Indian women have not abandoned native styles on a mass scale”. Rather, “they have successfully adapted Indian outfits such as salwar-kameez” to their own “contemporary” whims and/or needs [ibid., my emph].

According to certain views, Indian women residing outside India have come to see the Bollywood trend itself as expressive of the “native style”, and thus choose to wear that kind of style so as to assert their non-Western “authenticity” as regards clothing. The Gupta and Omoniyi study continues as follows: “At the beginning of the twenty-first century the definition of ‘native’ Indian women’s dress has changed fundamentally. A recent report (Malwani, 2001) suggests that most of the Non-Resident Indians (NRI’s) use Bollywood (the Bombay film industry) style and fashions for their choice of clothes, believing them to be authentically Indian…” [ibid.].

This view wishes to argue that “cultural clusters” located outside India opt for S.G. styles – viz. they are prone to adopt fashions promoted directly by “ethno-globalization”. While there is much truth in such a position [as has already been noted above], it nonetheless fails to consider the “selective” aesthetics of local cultures in the UK, an aesthetics which may not always be a mirror image of their homeland’s specifically upmarket fashions [even Indian society itself, by the way, does not en masse sport Bollywood fashion styles].

This “pull” of local aesthetics in clothing has been observed by Parminder Bhachu herself, in the text entitled “It’s hip to be Asian” [cf. above]. Bhachu supports that if one is to understand the manner in which “British Asian” women dress, one has no choice but to consider “the diasporean aesthetics that govern their fashion styles” [p. 40, my emph.]. It is therefore those living outside India, rooted in the “cultural clusters” of their own neighbourhoods in London’s inner city areas, which determine their own aesthetics in clothing styles. And their lives may be such as to make them ignore the latest fashion stereotypes of S.G. – more accurately, one should say that locals might go ahead and absorb such stereotypes, but would do so in a manner adjusted to their own aesthetics.

Bhachu is consistent in what she supports, basing her findings on her field work in the region of East Ham. In her book, Dangerous Designs [op. cit.], she explicitly states the following as regards the work of fashion designers based in the UK: “The cultural aesthetics and commercial sensibilities of the diasporic designers… are products of their context” [p. 95, my emph.]. Such designers have no choice but adjust their work to the local milieu – and by so adjusting, their work emanates primarily from that context and mirrors it. Bhachu thereby contextualizes both aesthetic and commercial “sensibilities” in terms of the needs of UK’s own “cultural clusters”.

While, as we shall further see below, her research material does not ignore the realities of “ethno-globalization” [such realities are – more or less inadvertently – reevaluated and placed in a more realistic perspective], Bhachu’s work nonetheless remains firmly focused on the “pull” of the local reality, both as an aesthetic choice and as an economic expediency. She writes: “As locals, situated within a British milieu, they [Asian women in the UK diaspora economies] represent an authentic diasporic voice with a firmly grounded aesthetic which is cognizant of the local market” [ibid., my emph.].

Very importantly, it is precisely this cognizance of the local market that enables UK’s ethnic-based local clothing enterprises to outperform the products of S.G. Bhachu continues: “… locals… whose design enterprises are based in locations where they have lived all their lives, have the commercial advantage [over “global” commercial/cultural actors]…” [ibid., my emph.]. The local market in ethnic clothing, as also local clothes manufacturing, shall be further examined below [taken as Factor V].

Bhachu is thus able to draw major conclusions regarding the natural “pull” of local aesthetics in ethnic attire within the “cultural clusters” of the East Ham region – the following quote is perhaps the most representative of her research work: “They [the local enterprises]… draw their signifiers from their own settings, their lived locations, in which they have their markets. Unlike the elite design entrepreneurs, they do not signify what is already significant in their nations to translate for new markets of which they are neither products nor residents. They live in their own national locations with a different set of cultural and racial values” [ibid., my emph.]. Of course, one cannot avoid noticing in this passage the blight of Bourdieuan linguistic pretentiousness – Bhachu’s work does not need such pompous verbiage. One may simply note the basic point in her findings – viz. that the cultural aesthetics of attire rooted in a locality can prevail over the rootless brand-styles of either R.G. or S.G. Alternatively, one may state that it is the local, “lived location” of a cluster of people that determines its “cultural values” and its “racial values” – and it is such circumstances that help determine one’s manner of dress.

The cognizance of one’s local context – as also the rootedness that it presupposes – is evident in the life and work of the founder of Daminis London, Mrs. Damini. Bhachu, who chooses to dub Mrs. Damini “a commercial matriarch”, emphasizes such rootedness by also referring to her as “a networking community mama”. The personal, cultural and commercial “narrative” of this woman is presented as follows: “Mrs. Damini was widowed at twenty-five, soon after migrating to London, and was left with two small children to bring up in a new land. Her success in setting up an enterprise on her own… is… a compelling cultural and commercial narrative… She is very popular amongst her huge network of customers. She is a skilled saleswoman and adept at dealing with people from many walks of life. She is located in a community of which she has been a part for over thirty years. She knows her markets intimately. Her customers invite her to their weddings and engagements, to their children’s functions, to endless family occasions within her extensive networks. One of her relatives visiting from India had to inquire of her, after seeing great numbers of people who greeted her fondly, if there was anyone in the world she did not know! She explained that this is because of the shop and ‘saray andhay jandhay’ (people come and go)… She performs the functions of an honorary kinswoman in a personalized, community-mediated, commercial context. Many people call her by a kinship term like ‘aunt’ or the Punjabi equivalent ‘masiji’, or even ‘penji’, the term for sister…” [p. 103, my emph.].

The sample case of Mrs. Damini clearly shows the vital position such persons occupy within a “cultural cluster” when it comes to the question of ethnic attire. They do not unilaterally determine the clothes locals wear – rather, their interaction with members of the community allows them to know their aesthetic needs. They thereby act as intermediaries between clothes manufacturers and consumers, enabling the former to adjust to the needs of the latter. The important implication is that it is the local cultural milieu which, in the last instance and to a large extent, determines the styles of attire sold and worn.

Bhachu notes the following as regards Mrs. Damini’s central role in her “cultural cluster”: “Her pivotal position in the community is obvious from the interactions in the shop. For example, when I was in the shop, a Punjabi Muslim couple came in and asked her why she had not attended their daughter’s wedding the previous weekend – they would have so much liked her to have done so. This was one of the endless invitations which she could not have possibly accepted or, having accepted, actually attended” [p. 104, my emph.].

It is such “pivotal position” of a clothes shop owner which would allow him/her to operate as a go-between in the dialectical chain linking the three separate entities involving ethnic attire – viz. the locals forming a “cultural cluster”, the local store owner, and the design industry [be it “global” or local]. Again, the manner in which Mrs. Damini has functioned within such dialectical chain can help us understand the basic determinants of what is sold and worn in a locality such as East Ham. Bhachu’s Dangerous Designs provides us with invaluable information on this, tracing developments in the history of the Daminis store and its changing relationship with Indian clothes manufacturers and designers. We shall see that, although the store would sell imported, ready-made clothes from India, such attire would ultimately come to adjust to and thereby express the “authentic” needs of East Ham’s local cultural milieu. Mrs. Damini’s role in ensuring such “authenticity” would certainly be “pivotal”. Bhachu’s basic findings may be presented as follows, first as regards general developments in the history of Daminis London:

• The late-1960’s, and the problematic local commercial infrastructure: “The suit fabric shops in the initial stages of the [Daminis] business in the late 1960s had real difficulty in finding stock from wholesalers because the commercial infrastructure of wholesaling was not yet established. There were a couple of wholesalers in 1969 which were, Mrs. Damini says, ‘tootay pajay’, literally, broken-down places with limited stock. As well as fabric on the roll, she stocked saris, sari blouses and petticoats and some dresses. She sold Japanese nylon saris because this is what people wore and she sold a lot of them. She sold Japanese polyesters that were used to make suits then…” [pp. 104-105].

• The 1980’s, and the development of the economy of ready-made clothes: “By the 1980s, however, the cloth and sari market was no longer as profitable and Deepak [Mrs. Damini’s son], in particular, felt that their returns were too small for their expenditure on rents, rates and shop assistants’ salaries. So, with the development of an economy of ready-made clothes, in their new shops Mrs. Damini and her son have moved away from fabrics to the more profitable, mass-produced suit sectors. She says, ‘We had Benarsi [or Banarasi] silk saris, French chiffon saris… We had a very good business for twelve years; then, the lease for that shop finished’…” [p. 105].

• The 2000’s, and the exclusive focus on ready-made clothes: “The new store in Green Street now focuses almost exclusively on ready-made clothes. Wedding outfits and menswear are on the first floor, ready-made women’s suits are on the ground floor, together with children’s clothes. Cloth and fabrics are relegated to the top floor” [ibid.].

• Ready-made clothes, and the establishment of connections with wholesalers in India: “Although Mrs. Damini came from India as a young married woman and had her extended family living in India, she did not have commercial connections with wholesaling cloth merchants or clothing manufacturers. Like the majority of other London-based enterprises…, she had to struggle to establish connections with wholesalers in India who could export what she needed”. Bhachu writes of the “fast global connections” [ibid.] that were being established by the Daminis store so as to import ready-made suits from India – it would obviously be more accurate to speak here of “ethno-global” connections.

• The search for suppliers of ready-made clothes in India, and the gradual professionalization of India’s design economy: “… when Daminis wanted to ‘go into ready-mades’, again they had to seek out new suppliers [in India]. Initially, they were few and far between though now the design economy has been professionalized by designers trained in the Indian state-sponsored design schools” [pp. 105-106].

• Frequency of visits to India: “Mrs. Damini and her son Deepak visit India much more frequently now, every six weeks, which is ‘six to seven times a year…’, she [Mrs. Damini] says” [p. 106].

• Daily contact with India – Bhachu quotes Mrs. Damini as follows: “In the past we used to have to deal with one courier company to send our things to England. Now there is so much competition. We used to have to spend £20-30 on one suit. Now it’s cheaper and very efficient and it’s so easy (it costs around £8 per suit). We used to think twice about calling India, now we call India fifteen to twenty times a day and the calls go through very quickly… We fax India every day and we get suits every day for odd-sized people or special requests…” [pp. 107-108].

Much more importantly for our purposes, we may now present the following material available in Bhachu’s research work regarding the relationship between the Daminis enterprise and the Indian clothes manufacturers and designers, and which would highlight the dialectical relationship between local consumers, local clothes stores and Indian enterprises in the context of S.G.:

• Links with specific Indian suppliers: “She [Mrs. Damini] says she does all the buying in Delhi, Bombay and Calcutta [though not only]. She developed the links with her suppliers in these places gradually. Some of them introduced themselves [to her]” [p. 106].

• Indian suppliers themselves initiate links with the Daminis enterprise – Bhachu quotes Mrs. Damini as follows: “… especially when you are buying big, people come to you. They come looking for you. You do not have to look for them. Suppliers come of their own accord when they hear you are in town [in India] to buy. But in the beginning you have to search them out yourself. A lot of suppliers have their own retail showrooms” [ibid.].

• The Daminis enterprise has the prerogative to choose the products from their Indian suppliers – Mrs. Damini is quoted as follows: “We had to find exporters… Luckily they were very good people, now the father has died, a Gujarati people. They still send us everything. We just go and choose whatever we want…” [ibid., my emph.].

• The Daminis enterprise determines the specifications and adaptations of ready-made clothes manufactured in India. Bhachu informs us that she had asked Mrs. Damini “if she watches fashion trends” – the latter’s response went as follows, and which tells us much about the limits of “ethno-globalization” in fashion designs: “They [the suppliers in India] do not suggest [fashion trends] but we let them know before we go to India that we are coming. At least ten days in advance, we inform the designers that we are coming. So they get the maximum number of designs together before we get there. If we like these designs we order. Otherwise, we suggest the lengths, colours, width, embroidery… We give them many suggestions. If we buy ready-made stuff they have made we cannot sell that here. We have to get things made to our specifications and many times they get things wrong. They already have designs and we suggest adaptations, changes, that would sell here… We say we want something different…” [p. 107, my emph.]. We consider this particular quote of crucial significance – it certainly debunks the idea that “globalization” [in whatever form] constitutes an all-powerful force determining “universal ‘world’ attire” [to use Maynard’s expression, op. cit.]. In fact, the quotes that follow further confirm such debunking.

• The Daminis enterprise has its own designers working in India – Mrs. Damini is quoted as follows: “We can get the pieces in the shop made to size for anyone. We get three to four pieces that arrive from India every day. We have our own people and designers working there. We know the number and the colour and can get it made very easily. We just fax them. We have an office in Bombay and she can get things done. We have people in Bangalore, Calcutta, Delhi. We buy different things from many places. We have our own label, Daminis. There are many designers who make for us but the label is our own” [pp. 107-108, my emph.].

• Garments from India may be further altered by a network of seamstresses based in the UK: the adaptation of garments to suit the needs of local customers begins in India but is finalized within the UK itself. According to Bhachu: “… The garments that arrive from India can have small alterations and fitting changes made to them in London by a network of seamstresses Mrs. Damini knows… [Thus,] clothes can be individually sized and made to customer specifications…” [p. 107, my emph.].

• The Daminis enterprise provides design information to Indian manufacturers. At a more general level, Bhachu makes the following observations: “Daminis are not innovators but mass marketers within ethnic circuits… [On the other hand,]… Some of their suits are specially designed in large numbers for their four stores. Mrs. Damini provides much valuable design information and market inputs to their Indian manufacturers about what is required for the British market” [p. 111, my emph.].

• Generally speaking, the case of the Daminis enterprise illustrates: [i] how local ethnic clothes stores articulate with “ethno-globalization”; and [ii] how these “localized” outlets, together with the local “cultural clusters” in which they are rooted, assert their own “cultural confidence”. Bhachu writes: “Daminis is a localized enterprise that remains local but works through the global markets… Mrs. Damini’s story is that of a struggle to set up a business in a new immigrant location… The development of the shops also reveals the developments in Indian markets and the ways in which British Asians are using their increased cultural confidence within their own areas of Britain to access Indian production and design sites to their advantage. The fact that these diaspora people have maintained and asserted their cultures in Britain, where they have established commercial spaces and local markets, at the same time benefits the Indian producers. The latter have found new markets outside India for their products, markets which they are supremely keen to cultivate and from which the Indian government wants them to extract valuable foreign currency” [pp. 112-113, my emph.].

• Further, although Daminis is located within the “global” markets [S.G.], it is at the same time an absolutely localized outlet involved in the customization of ethnic attire according to local customer specifications. This is how Bhachu puts it: “Daminis is now located in mainstream arenas and is also an established enterprise that has been around for almost the same length of time as Asians have been settled in London. It is using all the processes of the new technologies – the faxes, courier services, frequent calls to India, regular visits to purchase merchandise from India, the made-to-measure sizing, the customization according to customer specifications – to make it a business located within the global markets of the world that is at the same time absolutely localized” [p. 113, my emph.].

• The existence and operation of a clothes store such as Daminis London is a confirmation of the cohesion, vitality and relative autonomy of the phenomenon of “cultural clusters” within the inner cities of London – it is in their appropriation of “cultural space” on British soil that this is most evident. Bhachu writes: “The development of the shop from a peripheral suit fabrics and sari shop to a chain of four in the main established Asian centres of Britain… already reflects the establishment of Asian communities as culturally and ethnically confident entities who are appropriating cultural and commercial spaces in Britain to assert new forms of Britishness” [p. 114, my emph.]. It is precisely this “cultural confidence” and the tendency to appropriate “cultural space” that constitutes the “pull” factor of a “cultural cluster’s” aesthetics as to manner of dress – this is what obliges locals to abide by a certain “selectivity” of attire.

Factor IV: the question of individual taste and initiative

So-called “global” brand designs and stereotypes can be compromised by local customer initiatives, and especially so when such customers live the experience of a “cultural cluster” that is “confident” of its own aesthetics. Such initiatives as to style or manner of dress are usually purely individual, but they could also express the unconscious tendencies of a sub-group to abide by a certain taste in attire. Individual initiative regarding preferences is evident in at least two basic practices: [i] a self-designing of the clothes one orders from a clothes outlet; [ii] local tailoring based on customer instructions. We shall here merely point to a number of samples of such practices taking place in clothes outlets in the region of East Ham.

There are of course very many clothes stores in the area that offer alteration services to their local customers. Such services may not simply involve made-to-measure sizing – alterations can also be made in accordance with customer specifications regarding the design of a dress.

Zarkan of London is just one sample of an outlet that provides its customers with “alteration services”. Yet another shop is M&S Tailor & Alterations London which, as its name suggests, focuses its work on tailoring and alteration services. It is located at East Ham’s 449B High Street North, Manor Park. An East Ham local informs us as follows about M&S: “Great alterations done here. Pricey tho”.

Green Street’s Doli London is the type of outlet that does not simply sell Lehengas – it may also make them according to customer specifications. One of its customers tells us how she actually self-designed the attire purchased from this store [also cf. above, in our discussion of the Choli Suit]. This is how she puts it: “Great service, eager to please and individual needs taken into account. I had my lengha… made in a week and I also designed my brother’s groom jacket which they made accordingly…” [my emph.].

A second customer of Doli London writes about the outfits she purchased from the store as follows: “I… requested for many things to be changed and it happened exactly the way I requested…” [my emph.].

A third customer further tells us how she actively participated in the designing of her own wedding dress – she writes: “Great customer service. Bilal [either the owner or a shop assistant] helped me design my wedding dress and gave me updates on the design… The dress looked stunning” [my emph.].

A fourth Doli customer is absolutely explicit regarding the practice of individual initiative in self-design – we read in the store’s Facebook Page [posted 02.12.2016]: “I have shopped with Doli for the last 15 year[s] and they are like family [sic]. I show them the design and they make it happen. Great value for money…” [my emph.].

Self-tailoring is also evident in the case of a fifth Doli customer, who redesigns her wedding attire purchased at the store so as to express the style of a very specific ethnic group – viz. that of “settlers” from the Maghreb region of North Africa, which in her case happens to be Morocco. The customer writes in Doli’s Facebook Page [posted 30.04.2016]: “Beutiful [sic] shop I bought all my weding [sic] saris at Doli and used them to make Marocan weding dresses [sic]…” [my emph.].

In contrast to the streamlined production of the “ethno-globalized” fashion industry, private initiatives in self-tailoring and self-designing may naturally have their pitfalls as regards the quality of the finished product. Local tailoring in particular is often said to be problematic in a variety of ways. We may here consider the case of a clothes shop situated at 113 Green Street by the name of Khwaab London, which does a lot of tailoring. One of its customers has this to say: “Tailer [obviously meaning tailor] is greedy; takes way to[o] many orders and does not deliver on time. Also outfit had curry stains on it”.

Yet another case of problematic tailoring practices seems to be that of the Raj Tailor shop, located at East Ham’s 54 Browning Street, Manor Park. One customer writes: “Not going back to this tailor again, I gave him three kurtas [to] alter, made a complete mess of it… The stitching job itself is shocking. Very poor workmanship”.

Finally, we may present here a fairly detailed description of bad tailoring on the part of Raj Tailor, at least as presented by another of its customers. The complaints are recorded as follows [the language is more or less intelligible throughout, if read carefully]: “I gave him [the tailor] a salwar suit to stitch this tailor is appalling. First of all he stitched the salwar suit the salwar of which was not the size I asked for but shorter! On top of this I gave to Raj tailor lining fabric for the kameez. He ruined my expensive suit by using the lining fabric to make the salwar and the salwar fabric he used for the kameez lining. The colour of the salwar is much lighter than the kameez colour. After informing and showing him what he had done he refused to apologize and said it was not his fault and advised I told him over the phone which was lining fabric and what was the salwar fabric which is a complete lie. How can someone show the colour over the phone? Ridiculous… I cannot wear this suit anymore thanks to this ridiculous tailor…”

Factor V: the resilience of the East End clothing industry

As has been briefly pointed out above, the traditional local clothing industry in the UK – or at least that which is composed of ethnic minority enterprises – has been able to survive the competition posed by products of “ethno-globalization”. This reality is in itself a factor that may further compromise the apparently all-powerful impact of either R.G. or S.G. Local competitiveness could indirectly promote a resilience of local cultural aesthetics vis-à-vis “globalized” aesthetics. In this case, it would not be the “pull” factor of local aesthetic sensibilities that would undermine either R.G. or S.G. – rather, it would be the resilience of the local industry as such that would further boost such local aesthetic selectivity.

We are here specifically concerned with the ethnic-based East End clothing industry, which has its own history and is deeply rooted within the “cultural clusters” of the area. Panikos Panayi, in his study entitled Migrant City [op. cit.], informs us of the following historical facts: “During the course of the 1960’s and 1970’s Pakistanis or, more especially, Bangladeshis, and especially women, increasingly worked in the East End clothing industry, acting as a replacement for the Jewish community” [pagination unavailable online, throughout].

Panayi presents us with a series of important reasons as to why the traditional clothing industry in the East End – and especially in its ethnic-based composition – has generally been able to survive in the face of “globalization”. From a historical perspective, one may say that it had been the cheap labour provided by members of ethnic minorities to their compatriot employers that would allow the local, ethnic-based industry to grow. Panayi writes: “… the South Asians had a greater tolerance of poorer working conditions than native-born Londoners”.

It is of central importance here to focus on the economic function of ethnic minority “homeworkers” within the local industry. Panayi notes the following: “[Indian and Pakistani] homeworkers also worked for their countrymen who started up small businesses and could save on labour (by paying a cheaper rate, usually by piece) and factory costs by sending work out to the homeworkers. At the same time employers and employees often avoided paying income tax and VAT partly by making homeworkers self-employed…”.

Panayi’s observations are fully corroborated by the research work of the ESRC Centre for Business Research at the University of Cambridge – in a Working Paper on the British clothing industry published in 2004, we read the following: “In Britain, wage levels in this industry are among the lowest and were even lower before the arrival of the minimum wage in 1999. The industry in some areas has relied strongly on ethnic minority employees, many of them home workers” [cf. Christel Lane & Jocelyn Probert, “Between the global and the local: a comparison of the British and German clothing industry”, ESRC Centre for Business Research, University of Cambridge, Working Paper No. 283, March 2004, p. 17, my emph.].

The Working Paper further confirms that much of the UK’s local clothing industry is ethnic-based and located in regions such as the East End – we read: “Ownership of the many smaller clothing firms is less well documented but, according to industry insiders, ethnic minority owners in Britain are prominent in the industry (constituting 35 per cent of owners…). They have given one section of this industry, concentrated in big cities like Leicester and in the east of London, its special character” [ibid., p. 15, my emph.].

Now, it is this confirmed reality – viz. the working conditions of ethnic minority workers employed by ethnic minority entrepreneurs – that would allow the ethnic-based clothing industry in the East End to withstand competition from either R.G. or S.G. Panayi himself draws the following important conclusion: “In this situation clothing production could continue despite the international competition from imported goods…” [my emph.].

Generally, one will have to conclude that the UK’s local clothing manufacturers – and especially the numerous Asian-owned firms – have continued to thrive and successfully compete with ready-made clothes imported from India [and by “ready-made” we mean the customized type as discussed when considering the case of Daminis London]. We shall here end our presentation of Factor V by quoting a short passage that clearly shows the robustness and relative autonomy of UK’s local manufacturers of Asiatic ethnic attire – the passage reads as follows: UK’s “[Asian] wholesalers sell the products created by hundreds of Asian-owned clothing manufacturers…, which in turn subcontract to thousands of smaller Asian businesses… [Ethnic] self-employment has created a parallel local economy owned and financed by Pakistanis, employing Pakistanis, and linked with other parts of the Pakistani diaspora both within the UK and internationally” [cf. Glenn C. Loury, Tariq Modood & Steven M. Teles (eds.), Ethnicity, Social Mobility and Public Policy: Comparing the USA and UK, Cambridge University Press, 2005, p. 435]. Such robustness and relative autonomy of the local ethnic-owned industry does not in itself tell us much as to what locals choose to wear in terms of styles and fashion-trends. In fact, it may be argued that the products of the local industry could simply imitate those of R.G. or S.G. [we are not in possession of data to either verify or reject such a possibility]. On the other hand, if one were to consider this Factor V in combination with all the other factors being presented here [and which would point to the functions of an all-inclusive combinatory], one could argue that Factor V may certainly contribute to a compromising of the styles of “global” fashion trends.

Factor VI: the relationship between clothes and religion

There is definitely a tight relationship between manner of dress and the religious practices of the “cultural clusters” in a locality such as East Ham. It is as definite that this does not apply to all of the members of these “cultural clusters” or even to all of the “clusters”. Yet still, the relationship is apparent in the case of sizeable segments of at least certain of these “cultural clusters”. For these segments of East Ham’s residents, the styles and fashion-trends of both R.G. and S.G. are either ignored or are in any case fully adjusted to the stipulations of their religious creed [or, more accurately, are adjusted to their ethno-religious cultural paradigm].

For those who abide by a religious creed – such as that of Islam – manner of dress may even be mandatory. We have seen that the wearing of the Abaya Cloak in particular is deemed compulsory so that women be protected from certain categories of men [cf. our presentation of the Abaya Cloak above]. Alternatively, we may say that one’s religious creed delimits the range of attire that one may or may not wear [we need remember here our reference to “modest-wear” above]. For such categories of people, their attire is directly or openly expressive of their ethnic culture and religion: for them, therefore, clothing is a carrier of existential meaning.

In her discussion of the Salwaar Kameez Suits [cf. “It’s hip to be Asian”, op. cit.], Bhachu verifies the assertion that that type of attire carries a very distinct existential meaning – these suits are, she writes, “very semiotically charged and powerfully coded attire” [p. 40, my emph.]. The locals themselves are obviously very conscious of such ethnic-based semiotic “code” – for instance, a customer of the J. Junaid Jamshed store along Green Street describes Pakistani clothes sold therein as follows: “The ethnic dresses here are amazing with so much culture embedded in each outfit” [my emph.].

The relationship between clothes and religion is well encapsulated by Lynne Hume, in a study very aptly entitled, The Religious Life of Dress: Global Fashions and Faith, Bloomsbury, 2013. Hume writes: “Religious dress is a visible signifier of difference. The message communicated is that the wearer chooses to follow a certain set of ideological or religious principles and practices. Dress distinctions function to set one religious community apart from other religious communities” [p. 1, my emph.].

The idea that attire can have a specific ideo-religious functionality within a community – viz. that of setting one religious cluster apart from another – deserves to be researched in the greatest possible detail with respect to at least certain “cultural clusters” in East Ham. That, however, is well beyond our means – in presenting Factor VI here, we shall merely point to instances where the question of ethnic attire is entangled with religiosity in some way or another. Such entanglement, in itself, would point to the ideo-religious functionality of dress, and thus to its role as “signifier of difference”. By implication, whatever styles and designs produced by R.G. or S.G. would necessarily have to adjust to the specifications of such functionality.

As has been alluded to elsewhere in this paper, very many clothes stores in the area of East Ham are staffed by locals wearing the Muslim Hijab. A sample case is that of Shiffonz, along Green Street. One of the store’s customers informs us as follows: “The ladies in hijabs are really nice and helpful…”

At least some of the members of staff at the Zarkan of London store also wear the Hijab. One customer, expressing her disappointment with the store’s service [cf. Customer service – the negative side, above], tells us that one member of staff wearing the Hijab was exceptionally rude – “especially the one wearing the hijab (who does she think she is pls)”.

Zarkan – like so many other clothes shops in the area of East Ham – is naturally visited by customers who are themselves wearing the Hijab. This can cause inconveniences when trying on clothes – one customer describes the following situation: “I wear a hijab and my neck and shoulders were revealing [i.e. exposed] as she [a shop assistant] pulled it off. This was very disrespectful and out of order… Shame on you Zarkan!”

The entanglement between clothing and Muslim religiosity is also evident in the manner in which Muslim customers often address – or refer to – Muslim shop owners, managers or assistants. With respect to females, the salutation is that of “sister”, which is of course directly related to Muslim religious and cultural practices.

A Muslim husband, commenting on his wife’s visit to the J. Junaid Jamshed store, writes: “Brilliant service from Sister Fawziyah in the store, she made my wife feel very comfortable…”

A customer of Shiffonz tells us that she was finally able to choose her appropriate outfit there “thanks to the very helpful sister Suhana…”

We may also mention here how Mrs. Damini of Daminis is often referred to as “penji”, meaning “sister” [cf. Bhachu’s Dangerous Designs, p. 103, op. cit.].

For the sake of interest, we may note in passing the sense in which Muslims make use of the term “sister” in addressing a female of the same religious creed. Anum Cheema, an “Architectural Photographer” writing in Quora [18.09. 2018], explains as follows: “When Muslims refer to each other as Sisters or bothers they are not implying in any way that there is a biological relationship there, you’ll often hear scholars say brothers in Islam or brothers and sisters in Islam, in my opinion, the term ‘sister’ in this context is used to describe shared thoughts, opinions, and beliefs and a way of showing respect” [my emph.]. Likewise, Sartaj Ali, “Owner at Ramdan.org”, and also commenting in Quora [11.05.2018], writes: “All Muslims are brother to each other… It’s something that create [sic] the trust on each other [sic]… As you know ‘Sister’ is relation [sic] but we also call sister every girl surrounding us because we believe all Muslims are brothers and sisters. It’s way [sic] to show respect it buildup trust and she feel secure [sic]” [my emph.].

Shop owners themselves, in addressing their customers, may make use of religious terminology expressive of Islam. Responding to complaints made by a customer regarding the quality of a garment, the owner-manager of Abru Classics writes: “… but in future we will try to improve more in shaa Allah”. As is known, the latter is the Koranic phrase for “God willing”. Again in response to another customer, the same owner-manager explains that appropriate measures have been taken to correct a particular problem, and these have been taken “in shaa Allah”. Of course, when customers are satisfied with the services of a particular outlet, they too will respond with the same Koranic phrase – a customer of Doli London writes: “In shaa Allah see you next time”.

All or at least most ethnic-based clothes stores in the region of East Ham actively engage in the ethno-religious celebrations and festivities of the locality’s “cultural clusters”. Their engagement can take a variety of forms, only one of which is to offer their stock at discount prices in the course of the festive occasion. In discussing “customer exploitation” above, we had noted that the Reva’s Fashions store located along High Street North would sell its Sarees at half their original price in celebrating the Hindu Diwali together with the relevant “cultural clusters” of the locality [op. cit]. The store’s Facebook Page presented the following post in October 2019 [the festival, as already noted, covers the October-November period]: “Come and celebrate this Diwali with us at Reva’s! Save up to 50% on all our latest Sarees, Dresses, Children wear & much more! Don’t miss out!” [06.10.2019].

The Reva’s store has been engaging in the Diwali celebrations with much consistency through its years of operation – for instance, back in 2017 its Facebook Page would present the following post: “Wishing all our customers a very Happy Diwali!! Wish you & your family a very Happy Diwali… May millions of lamps illuminate your life with endless joy, prosperity, health and wealth forever” [19.10.2017]. The reference to “lamps” obviously relates to the fact that Diwali is the “festival of lights” [op. cit.].

Reva’s Fashions, furthermore, has always been consistent in celebrating the Tamil New Year. Consider the following 2019 Facebook post: “Happy new year to all our customers. We hope everyone has an amazing day celebrating… tamilnewyear… Happiness may be yours… Prosperity may hug you… Peace may fall upon you… Love may smile at you… Puthandu Vazthukali!” [14.04.2019]. We note that the Tamil term “Puthandu” refers to the Tamil New Year or the first day of year on the Tamil calendar [it being April 14 of the Gregorian calendar]; “Vazthukali” simply means “wishes”. “Puthandu” is a cultural-cum-religious event – Tamils observe the day in a variety of ways, one of which is to visit their temples [cf. Paper 4a].

Similarly, this store would post the following announcement on its Facebook Page in 2018, again marking the Tamil New Year and related festivals: “Wishing Everyone a Happy Tamil New Year, Happy Vishu & Happy Vaisakhi!!... New aspirations… New hopes… New dreams… It’s a new beginning! May all your dreams come true and give you the joy that you had always wished for!” [14.04.2018]. The term “Vishu” refers to a Hindu festival celebrated in the Indian state of Kerala, the Tulu Nadu region in Karnataka, and elsewhere – its purpose is to celebrate an abundant harvest and is directly related to the Tamil New Year. “Vaisakhi” is another name for “Puthandu”, and is a term used by Hindus and Sikhs in North and Central India – it therefore also marks the solar new year.

Apart from observing the Diwali festival in the months of October and November, and the Tamil New Year on April 14, Reva’s Fashions also participates in the “Lohri” and related celebrations taking place in January each year. A 2019 Facebook post reads as follows: “Happy Sankranti… Happy Lohri… Happy Pongal” [15.01.2019]. As all these related festivals are observed by “settlers” in the region of East Ham – and that is precisely why the Reva’s store itself engages in such events – it would be of some use to very briefly explain what such occasions are all about. Firstly, and according to Wikipedia, “Makara Sankranti” or “Maghi” is a festival day in the Hindu calendar, dedicated to the deity Surya [Sun]. It is observed each year in the lunar month of Magha which corresponds to the month of January. It is a day the people of India celebrate their harvest – of course, need we say that while East Ham’s Hindu “settlers” do not in any way engage in whatever harvesting, they nonetheless observe the occasion for cultural and religious reasons. Secondly, “Lohri” is a popular winter Punjabi festival celebrated on January 13 of every year. “Lohri” is said to mark the end of winter, and is “a traditional welcome of longer days” [cf. Richa Taneja, “Happy Lohri 2020: know all traditions and rituals of the harvest festival”, https://www.ndtv.com/india-news, updated 13.01.2020; cf. also Wikipedia]. Finally, “Pongal” is a multi-day Hindu harvest festival of South India, particularly amongst the Tamil community. It is observed around January 14 [cf. Wikipedia].

The tight entanglement between attire and religious practices is clearly evident in the case of the Muslim “Eid outfit”, sold by very many clothes shops in the area of East Ham. This is a type of outfit worn by Muslim East Hammers to celebrate what is known as “Eid-ul-Fitr”. According to the Islamic Finder website [https://www.islamicfinder.org]: “Eid-ul-Fitr is a time of joy and Muslims embrace it by dressing up their best for the occasion… As the holy month of Ramadan approaches its end, Muslims… have started preparing for their yearly celebrations of Eid-ul-Fitr. This Eid marks the end of Ramadan and the beginning of the new moon sighting of shawaal [viz. the tenth month of the lunar-based Islamic calendar]”.

The “Eid outfit” is just one example of what has been described as “powerfully coded attire” or a “visible signifier of difference” – it is also an extremely popular type of dress amongst Muslims to mark the religious holiday of Eid. East Ham clothes stores are usually very busy as the Ramadan period comes to an end, with many locals rushing to choose their “Eid outfits”. A customer of Shiffonz confirms this when she writes: “I did not realize as it’s the week before Eid and it was very busy”. Yet another Shiffonz customer informs us that she had finally “managed” to choose her “Eid outfit” only after the helpful intervention of a shop assistant in the general rush of the pre-Eid shopping spree. Commenting on customer service at J. Junaid Jamshed, a customer writes: “We visited during Ramadan and give them the benefit of doubt of not serving customers may be due to the rush [anteceding Eid]”.

While it is evident that religion and culture are embedded in much of East Ham’s ethnic-based attire, it is as evident that elements of ethnic religiosity are also embedded in the everyday practices of the region’s clothes stores – such practices include not only what they sell but also how they do the selling of their products. Perhaps the single most important indication of how they sell and/or how they relate to their customers is encapsulated in the following passage regarding the East Shopping Centre [cf. its website] – we read: “Prayer facilities are available at East Shopping Centre. A prayer room is located towards the rear of the East Market… on the ground floor” [my emph.].

The reality of Factor VI functions in combination with all the other factors we have presented above. While it cannot be said to be the sole determining factor, the force of Factor VI certainly suggests that the fashion products of both R.G. and S.G. do have to adjust to its requirements. On the other hand, the specifications of ethno-religious practices may also have to adjust to R.G. and S.G. – but whatever the adjustments in this case, these can only but be delimited by the combinatory of all six factors as discussed.

The post 4c – LONDON: SETTLERS, COCKNEYS, AND THE “CITY TYPE”: THE CASE OF “LITTLE INDIA” – EAST HAM appeared first on Greek Social & Literary Review - Ελληνική Κοινωνική & Λογοτεχνική Επιθεώρηση.

Trudging, I gathered sounds with my hands
loading them onto my back:
here a bundle of weeping,
here an old woman
thundering curses,
here urns in a heaviness
of soft lamentation
and quiet pleading.
Upon reaching the black trees
high on the hill,
I was already a hunchback
my nose touching the knee.

Halting, I let drop
my load on the earth,
and said this to Him: “All these prayers
were meant for You”.
And there slid from the heavens
to the tips of cypress trees
and from their trunk to me
God’s compassionate mercy:
“Too much have you tired
in the endless croaking of frogs”.

From the collection of poems The Star of Nothingness, Athens: Oropedio 2012
Diakopto, Achaea, Summer 2020

«Ο καμπούρης»

Πήγαινα, μάζευα με τα χέρια μου ήχους
τους φορτωνόμουν στη ράχη μου:
εδώ ένα δεμάτι λυγμοί
εδώ μια γριά ν’ απειλεί
με κατάρες,
εδώ στάμνες βαριές
ήσυχα κλάματα
και σιγανές παρακλήσεις.
Μέχρι να φτάσω στα μαύρα δέντρα
ψηλά στο λόφο,
ήμουν καμπούρης –
η μύτη ν’ αγγίζει το γόνατο.

Στάθηκα, έριξα βαριά
το φορτίο στη γη,
Του είπα: «Για Σένα
όλες αυτές οι προσευχές».
Και γλίστρησε απ’ τον ουρανό
στις μύτες των κυπαρισσιών
κι απ’ τον κορμό ως εμένα
φιλόστοργο το έλεος του Θεού:
«Σε κούρασαν πολύ
τόσα κοάσματα βατράχων».

Από την ποιητική συλλογή Το άστρο του Τίποτε, Αθήνα: Οροπέδιο 2012

The post Antonia Gounaropoulou: “The hunchback” appeared first on Greek Social & Literary Review - Ελληνική Κοινωνική & Λογοτεχνική Επιθεώρηση.

Hidden in the shadow
beneath a fig tree
the adder’s root.
And all await
the coming of July
the advent of August,
that their hands may stick
of tree, of milk.

For just a while
you left wide open
our home’s front door
and our threshold was
so near the ground.

In the night I ask
how breathes the soil.
In the day I forget
and dream of red honey.
Last night I saw
the fig tree in my sleep.
It grabbed my shoulders
and plunged me down
deep to its roots.

I writhed for air

and while
in spasms,
I glimpsed

a small split of sky
swiftly smile at me
from the stem
of the adder’s root.

From the collection of poems The Star of Nothingness, Athens: Oropedio 2012
Diakopto , Achaea, Summer 2020

Κρυμμένο στον ίσκιο

Κρυμμένο στον ίσκιο
κάτω απʼ τη συκιά
το φιδόχορτο.
Κι όλοι λένε
πότε θα ʼρθει ο Ιούλης
πότε ο Αύγουστος,
τα χέρια να κολλήσουν
από δέντρο και γάλα.

Την πόρτα του σπιτιού μας
την άφησες για μια στιγμή
ορθάνοιχτη –
κι ήταν το κατώφλι μας
τόσο κοντά στη γη.

Τις νύχτες ρωτιέμαι
πώς ανασαίνει το χώμα.
Τις μέρες ξεχνιέμαι
κι ονειρεύομαι κόκκινο μέλι.
Χτες βράδυ είδα τη συκιά
στʼ όνειρό μου.
Μʼ άρπαξε απʼ τους ώμους
και με βύθισε ίσια
στις ρίζες.

Σπαρταρούσα γιʼ αέρα,

κι ενώ
μες στους σπασμούς μου
ανάβλεψα,

φευγαλέα μου γέλασε
μια μικρή σχισμή ουρανός
μέσα απʼ τον κορμό
του φιδόχορτου.

Aπό την ποιητική συλλογή Το άστρο του Τίποτε, Αθήνα: Οροπέδιο 2012

The post Antonia Gounaropoulou: “Hidden in the shadow” appeared first on Greek Social & Literary Review - Ελληνική Κοινωνική & Λογοτεχνική Επιθεώρηση.