Introduction – When Cinema Becomes More Than Screen
Cinema has always been more than a form of entertainment in India. It has functioned as a cultural text, a political forum, and, at times, a moral guide. This layered significance was reaffirmed at the National Film Awards ceremony, where President Droupadi Murmu emphasized that films should spread social awareness, and that women must be adequately represented not only on screen but also within jury panels that decide what narratives are honoured. Her words remind us that cinema is not simply a mirror of society but a force capable of shaping values and consciousness.
The National Film Awards themselves stand as one of the country’s most respected platforms for acknowledging cinematic excellence. Yet what counts as “excellence” is not neutral; it reflects broader social ideals and institutional priorities. By celebrating women-centric films and calling for inclusivity in jury structures, the President placed cinema in the service of both gender justice and national progress. Her vision suggests that cinema has an ethical responsibility: to voice the concerns of the marginalized, to uphold diversity, and to cultivate a culture of fairness in recognition.
This essay will argue that women-centric cinema, inclusive jury representation, and the passion of artists together make Indian cinema a living conscience of the nation. Women at the centre of storytelling offer narratives of empowerment; inclusive jury systems ensure fairness in recognition; and artists’ devotion, exemplified by actor Mohanlal’s claim that cinema is the “heartbeat of his soul,” illustrates the transformative role of passion in sustaining cultural life. Together, these strands reveal that cinema, when true to its essence, transcends the screen and becomes the heartbeat of India itself.
Women at the Centre – A New Cinematic Dawn
One of the most striking shifts in Indian cinema over the past two decades has been the rise of women-centric films that foreground women’s agency, struggles, and resilience. Traditionally, Indian films, particularly mainstream productions, often relegated women to secondary roles, either as romantic interests or as symbolic figures of sacrifice. However, as President Murmu’s recognition indicates, this trend is undergoing a profound transformation. The increasing prominence of women’s narratives is not merely a matter of representation; it signals a cultural reorientation toward justice, equality, and inclusivity.
The trajectory of women-centric films in India reflects both artistic experimentation and societal change. Parallel cinema in the 1970s and 1980s, led by filmmakers such as Shyam Benegal, explored women’s inner worlds and structural oppressions. In more recent years, films such as Kahaani (2012), Queen (2014), Dangal (2016), and Thappad (2020) achieved mainstream popularity while centring women’s perspectives. These films did more than entertain: they challenged stereotypes, encouraged debates on gender norms, and redefined female characters as agents of their own destinies.
President Murmu’s praise of women-centric cinema is therefore historically significant. It signals state-level acknowledgment that women’s stories matter not only as cultural products but also as instruments of social transformation. When such films are celebrated at a national forum, they gain legitimacy, encouraging more filmmakers to pursue stories that resist patriarchal templates. At the same time, these films contribute to reshaping collective imagination: they invite audiences to see women not as accessories to men’s narratives, but as autonomous beings with complex identities.
In this sense, women-centric cinema represents a new dawn in Indian cultural history. It is not a marginal experiment but a mainstream current that redefines what cinema means to the nation. By placing women at the centre, cinema affirms that gender justice is not a peripheral concern but a core element of national progress.
Representation Behind the Curtain – The Jury’s Gaze
While women-centric films are gaining recognition, the structures that evaluate and reward these films often remain male-dominated. President Murmu’s call for greater representation of women on jury panels is therefore not a mere procedural suggestion but an ethical imperative. In the cinematic ecosystem, the jury is not a passive observer; it actively shapes cultural value by determining which narratives deserve national recognition. If these decision-making bodies lack diversity, they risk reproducing biases that undermine the very ideals cinema seeks to promote.
Representation in juries matters because cultural recognition is never neutral. It is mediated through perspectives, life experiences, and social positions. A jury dominated by men may, even unconsciously, privilege stories that align with male-centric frameworks, while undervaluing women’s narratives or alternative voices. Conversely, when women are adequately represented, the evaluative gaze becomes more inclusive, capable of appreciating the nuances of gendered experiences. President Murmu’s intervention draws attention to this critical link between diversity in decision-making and justice in recognition.
Comparative examples from global cinema further reinforce the need for reform. In recent years, international festivals like Cannes and institutions like the Academy Awards have introduced deliberate measures to ensure gender diversity within their panels. These changes have expanded the scope of recognition, leading to greater visibility for women directors, writers, and performers. India, as one of the world’s largest film-producing nations, cannot afford to lag in this respect.
Institutional reform is thus essential. Formal guidelines mandating gender-balanced juries, mentorship programs for women filmmakers, and transparent evaluation processes could collectively foster equity. By reshaping the structures of recognition, India can ensure that cinema’s conscience is not distorted by partiality. In essence, a diverse jury is not only fairer; it is truer to the democratic spirit of the nation.
Cinema as Social Awareness – From Reel to Real
President Murmu’s reminder that films must spread social awareness points to the transformative potential of cinema as pedagogy. In a country as vast and diverse as India, cinema reaches audiences that formal education and policy often cannot. Its power lies in accessibility: even those who may not engage with books or debates can internalize social messages through stories on the screen. In this sense, cinema is more than art; it is a form of mass education, shaping cultural norms and public debates.
History offers numerous examples of cinema functioning as a catalyst for awareness. Films like Achhut Kanya (1936) raised questions about caste at a time when the subject was taboo. More recent productions, such as Pink (2016), sparked discussions on consent, while Article 15 (2019) provoked nationwide reflection on caste-based discrimination. Regional cinema, too, has consistently addressed local injustices from Marathi films on farmer suicides to Assamese cinema highlighting environmental and ethnic concerns. These films illustrate how cinema can intervene in public consciousness, transforming private struggles into collective recognition.
Yet the potential of cinema for social awareness is not automatic; it depends on intention. In some cases, social themes are commodified, reduced to marketable tropes without authentic engagement. This creates the danger of diluting important issues into spectacles for consumption. The challenge, therefore, is to distinguish between films that genuinely advance awareness and those that exploit social causes for commercial gain.
Nevertheless, the President’s words underscore a profound truth: cinema is most powerful when it combines artistry with responsibility. A film that entertains while also awakening moral reflection achieves what few other media can. It bridges the gap between reel and real, turning fiction into a vehicle for empathy and action. In a society grappling with gender injustice, communal tensions, and widening inequalities, such cinema becomes not a luxury but a necessity.
Mohanlal’s Testament – The Artist’s Heartbeat
Amid institutional concerns and the social responsibility of cinema, Mohanlal’s words at the National Film Awards strike a profoundly human chord. By declaring that cinema is the “heartbeat of his soul,” he elevates filmmaking beyond a profession or an industry; it becomes an existential necessity. His expression reminds us that cinema is not only an instrument of policy or pedagogy but also a deeply personal journey of creation, vulnerability, and passion.
Mohanlal represents a generation of actors whose work has transcended regional and linguistic boundaries. Beginning in Malayalam cinema and evolving into one of the most respected figures in Indian cinema, his career embodies the power of storytelling to cross cultural divides. For him, cinema is not simply about fame or commercial gain; it is a spiritual practice, an act of living truth through performance. Such a vision resonates with global traditions where artists often speak of their craft as inseparable from their being. One thinks of Satyajit Ray’s devotion to filmmaking, or Kurosawa’s insistence that cinema was his “way of seeing the world.”
His words also highlight an essential balance: while institutions shape the recognition of cinema, and while films may carry social responsibility, the lifeblood of cinema remains the passion of its creators. Without artists who pour their souls into storytelling, the medium would collapse into propaganda or empty spectacle. Thus, Mohanlal’s testament reminds us that at its core, cinema is art born of human longing. It thrives when artists see themselves not merely as professionals but as vessels of expression, responsible both to their audiences and to their own inner truth.
In the context of India, this heartbeat is especially vital. Cinema is not a peripheral art form but a central cultural force, binding together audiences from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. Mohanlal’s declaration captures this truth that behind the machinery of film lies an artist’s beating heart, and it is this heartbeat that makes cinema endure.
The Nation and Its Screens – Cinema as Identity
Cinema in India is not merely an industry of entertainment; it is a mirror of the nation’s soul. From its inception, Indian cinema has been deeply intertwined with national identity. During the freedom struggle, films carried subtle nationalist messages, nurturing aspirations for independence. Post-independence, cinema became a vehicle for imagining modern India, grappling with questions of poverty, development, secularism, and social justice. In this way, the screen has always been more than a surface; it has been a stage where the nation sees itself, debates itself, and reinvents itself.
President Murmu’s emphasis on women-centric films and socially aware cinema thus speaks to a larger project: the project of nation-building through art. A nation is not constructed solely by law or infrastructure; it is also woven through stories, values, and dreams. Cinema, accessible to millions, plays a formative role in this weaving. When women are centred in narratives, when injustice is challenged, when empathy is awakened, cinema does the work of consolidating the democratic spirit of India.
The global recognition of Indian cinema also illustrates how national identity is projected beyond borders. Films like Lagaan, Slumdog Millionaire, or more recently RRR have captivated international audiences, offering diverse images of India. Yet the question remains: which India do these films portray, and who decides what narratives travel outward? This makes President Murmu’s call for representation and social awareness doubly important, for the stories India chooses to tell itself are the same stories it tells the world.
Furthermore, cinema’s role in identity is dynamic, not static. It is contested terrain. Popular films sometimes reproduce stereotypes or stoke divisions, but they can also heal and unify. For example, while certain films may exacerbate communal anxieties, others highlight the shared struggles and solidarities of ordinary citizens. This duality reflects the very essence of the nation, plural, fragmented, yet striving for unity.
Thus, the relationship between cinema and national identity is not passive; it is dialogical. The nation shapes cinema, but cinema also shapes the nation. As India moves deeper into the 21st century, with its demographic shifts, technological revolutions, and political transformations, the screen will remain a critical site where the question “Who are we?” continues to be asked and answered.
Toward a Cinematic Ethics – Responsibility as Freedom
The debate around cinema often oscillates between two poles: art as freedom and art as responsibility. President Murmu’s words suggest that these two poles are not contradictory but complementary. To make films that spread social awareness is not to stifle creativity under the weight of morality; rather, it is to liberate creativity by aligning it with the deeper yearnings of society. True freedom in art does not mean indifference to consequences; it means the courage to use one’s creative voice responsibly, with sensitivity to the shared life of the community.
The philosopher Emmanuel Levinas once argued that responsibility for the Other is the most fundamental ethical demand. Cinema, as the most communal of modern arts, embodies this demand uniquely. When filmmakers centre marginalized voices, they respond to the ethical call of the Other. When juries diversify, they too enact responsibility by refusing to silence experiences historically ignored. In this sense, cinematic responsibility is not external to the art form; it is intrinsic to its very possibility.
At the same time, responsibility should not be confused with didacticism. Preachy cinema often alienates rather than awakens. The challenge is to weave awareness into narrative with artistic brilliance, so that social critique arises naturally from story and character. Successful films achieve this balance; they inspire reflection without sacrificing aesthetic depth. They prove that responsibility and creativity, far from enemies, are two wings of the same bird.
By embracing responsibility as freedom, Indian cinema can transcend the binary of commerce versus conscience. It can evolve into a cinema that is not merely popular or prestigious but a profoundly ethical one that resonates with the democratic aspirations of the nation.
Conclusion – Cinema as Conscience of a Nation
The National Film Awards ceremony, with President Murmu’s observations and Mohanlal’s heartfelt testament, symbolizes the multifaceted role of cinema in India. It is at once an institution of recognition, a medium of social awareness, an arena of personal devotion, and a mirror of national identity. Each dimension contributes to the vitality of cinema, but together they reveal a deeper truth: cinema functions as the conscience of the nation.
A conscience does not dictate or command; it whispers, questions, and challenges. Similarly, cinema does not merely reflect society but prods it toward transformation. By centring women’s narratives, it questions gender hierarchies. By diversifying juries, it unsettles institutional biases. By spreading awareness, it unsettles complacency. And by carrying the heartbeat of its artists, it ensures that these transformations are not mechanical but deeply human.
In a global age where media can polarize as much as it can unite, Indian cinema faces a historic responsibility. It must resist the lure of shallow spectacle and reaffirm its role as a space of ethical imagination. If it succeeds, it will not only entertain millions but also educate, heal, and inspire them. In doing so, it will carry forward the project of democracy itself, not through law or policy, but through the subtle yet powerful work of storytelling.
Cinema, then, is not a mirror held up to the nation; it is the light that makes the nation see itself more clearly. President Murmu’s words remind us of this responsibility; Mohanlal’s heartbeat reminds us of its passion. Together, they capture the essence of Indian cinema: an art form that belongs not only to its creators but to the conscience of the entire people.