By Rutuja Deshmukh
When my paper was selected for presentation at the 2024 Domitor Conference in Vienna, I faced a dual challenge. Firstly, I needed to bring histories from the Global South into mainstream early cinema discourse, challenging conventional timelines of early cinema and broadening the established narrative, as the call for papers specified. Secondly, within these already marginalized histories, I sought to illuminate an even more overlooked chapter of film history, one that remains largely invisible, even within the broader, often-neglected cinematic histories of the Global South. The history of national cinemas in India has predominantly focused on film production, film cultures, and labor histories in the colonial cities of Bombay, Madras, and Calcutta. This emphasis has largely overshadowed the histories of cinema in the princely states, which offer valuable insights into the dynamics of caste and class formations.
The marginalization of princely state cinemas in historical narratives can be attributed to several factors: the lack of accessible archives, poor preservation of films and documentation, language barriers, and caste-based exclusions that shaped who had access to the means of film production and preservation. Moreover, the dominant historiographical framework of Indian cinema has been shaped by the binary of colonial rule and nationalist struggle. This lens has privileged narratives centered on resistance against British imperialism and the emergence of a national film industry within colonial metropolises. As a result, alternative trajectories of film culture and production, especially those shaped by the unique power structures, patronage networks, and social hierarchies within princely states, have been largely overlooked. By shifting focus to these forgotten cinematic histories, we can move beyond a monolithic understanding of early Indian cinema and recognize the multiple, intersecting forces that shaped its development.
The Kolhapur Film Enterprise, as I call it, began as an initiative by the princely state of Kolhapur in Maharashtra to foster filmmaking within its domain. While princely states in India had long been patrons of art, music, and various crafts, Kolhapur’s direct involvement in film production set it apart: it was not merely offering patronage, but actively producing films and nurturing a homegrown film industry. This made Kolhapur one of the rare and unique feudal centers of cinematic production in India. The first film studio which can undoubtedly lay its claim on the development and start of Marathi cinema was founded in Kolhapur with the inception of Maharashtra Film Company in 1919. The studio’s founder, Baburao Painter, born Baburao Krishnarao Mestry in 1890, and his cousin Anandrao Painter, both from a non-Brahmin artisan caste, laid the foundation of the Marathi film industry in Kolhapur. It is no surprise that such an enterprise thrived under the patronage of Chhatrapati Shahu (1874–1922), a progressive ruler known for his social reforms, including pioneering caste-based reservations and championing Bahujan empowerment. The term “Bahujan” refers to the majority of historically marginalized communities in India, including Scheduled Castes (Dalits), Scheduled Tribes (Adivasis), Other Backward Classes (OBCs), and certain minority groups. It contrasts with the historically dominant upper-caste elites who have controlled social, economic, and cultural institutions.
Unlike his contemporary, Dadasaheb Phalke, widely credited as the founder of Indian cinema and celebrated for his efforts to create indigenous cinema in colonial Bombay, Baburao Painter has been largely relegated to the status of a regional, almost provincial, figure. He is remembered as a pioneer of Marathi cinema rather than as a central force in India’s national film history. While Phalke’s career is extensively documented and honored, Painter remains in the background, his contributions often overlooked. This disparity cannot be understood without acknowledging the caste and class positions of both filmmakers. Phalke, an upper-caste Brahmin from Nasik, Maharashtra, was formally trained at the prestigious JJ School of Arts, giving him access to elite artistic education and networks. In contrast, Painter, a Bahujan, was born into an artisan family and acquired his skills through hands-on experience, learning from his father in the traditional craft-based system.
This fundamental difference shaped not only their approaches to filmmaking but also the way their work has been received and remembered. Phalke famously documented himself making his first film, effectively inserting himself into the cinematic history he was creating. Painter, however, left behind little personal documentation, with much of his legacy surviving through the work of those he trained. His Maharashtra Film Company became a hub for nurturing talent, with students like V. Shantaram, who later co-founded Prabhat Film Company in Kolhapur in 1929 and eventually moved to Pune, shaping the course of Indian cinema. In contrast, Phalke had virtually no protégés. His approach to filmmaking remained exclusive, maintaining a hierarchical structure where knowledge was not widely disseminated.
Baburao Painter with his self-fashioned camera.
The differences in their access to formal education, artistic training, and self-documentation have profoundly shaped how scholars later engaged with their work. Phalke, with his formal training and self-fashioned narrative, fit neatly into the historiographical frameworks that privileged professionalized “high culture” over craft-based, artisanal traditions. His films and writings were archived, studied, and celebrated as part of the national cinematic canon. Painter, by contrast, was perceived as an artisan rather than an artist, and his work was often dismissed as regional or amateurish. This has led to a relative scarcity of scholarly engagement with Painter’s contributions, despite his pioneering role in Indian cinema—an issue that is further compounded by the scarcity of archival material on Painter. Unlike Phalke, whose papers, films, and personal writings are preserved in institutional archives, much of Painter’s work is either lost or scattered across informal collections. His films are poorly preserved, and there is no comprehensive archive dedicated to his legacy.
Researching Painter requires piecing together fragments of oral histories, secondary accounts, and scattered references in trade magazines and studio records. This absence of institutional preservation not only limits our understanding of Painter’s work but also reflects broader systemic issues in the way Indian film history has been recorded—one that privileges certain figures while marginalizing others based on caste, class, and access to elite cultural networks. This history remained overlooked because it did not fit into the postcolonial nation’s dominant framework of colonial rule and nationalist struggle. Investigating Painter’s life and work led me through a research process shaped by gaps in archival records, fragmented sources, and the broader challenges of reconstructing film histories outside dominant narratives.
During my visits to Kolhapur, I spoke with descendants of Painter’s contemporaries, local historians, and members of families who had worked at the Maharashtra Film Company. These conversations took place in living rooms over tea, in workshops where remnants of old stage sets still remained, and in homes where family albums held rare, unpublished photographs of early film productions. One of the most striking moments was seeing an old, faded photograph of Painter at work, shared by a family whose grandfather had apprenticed under him. These personal archives, family albums, oral recollections, and everyday materials of a past era provided insights that official archives never could.
Baburao was also an artist; here, he is seen with his life size portrait of Shahu, the ruler and patron of Kolhapur.
Among the most compelling aspects of my research was discovering Painter’s deep connection with stage backdrops. Alongside his cousin Anandrao, Baburao was one of the leading painters for Parsi theatre productions in Bombay. The moniker “Painter” wasn’t just a name, it was a testament to his craft. Many of the families I spoke with recalled stories of how his workshop was a space of both creativity and mentorship, where young artists learned not just painting techniques but also the evolving technology of moving images. Several of the kin of filmmakers from Kolhapur also spoke to me about how Anandrao’s untimely death in 1916 became a pivotal moment, sparking Baburao’s transition into filmmaking. The bond between Baburao and Anandrao, revealed through these conversations, underscores a personal connection often overlooked in Western scholarship, which tends to focus solely on the professional and political struggles of artists from the Global South, neglecting the more intimate aspects of their lives. By relying on oral histories, family-held materials, and community memory, my research filled in crucial gaps that institutional archives could not address. These methods not only revealed details about Painter’s artistic practice but also illuminated the social networks and material conditions that shaped early Indian cinema in ways that remain largely unrecognized in mainstream historiography.
This trajectory also sheds light on a crucial but often overlooked aspect of education, particularly film education, in India. In the colonial period, a rigid distinction was established between “art” as an intellectual or creative pursuit and “craft” as manual labor, reinforcing a hierarchy that shaped artistic professions. This division persisted in the postcolonial nation-state through the separation of vocational training from formal artistic and academic education. Institutions such as the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII) and state-run fine arts programs inherited these colonial categorizations, where professional degrees conferred legitimacy, while craft-based learning, like that of stage painters, set designers, and projectionists, was relegated to informal or vocational status. The privileging of formal education in film studies programs and auteur-driven narratives has historically marginalized the ways in which filmmakers from artisan and working-class backgrounds, like Baburao Painter, acquired and transmitted knowledge. This contestation over what counts as “proper” film education continues today, reflected in the persistent elitism surrounding access to film schools, funding, and recognition within the industry and academia. By focusing on Painter’s transition from theatre to cinema, I examine how knowledge was produced and passed down outside institutional settings, through apprenticeship, labor, and community networks, offering a counter-narrative to elite, auteurist histories of Indian cinema.
A decolonial approach to media and film history questions these hierarchical structures by rejecting linear narratives of modernity and coloniality that erase diverse histories of identity, belonging, and citizenship. Decolonization, in this context, involves not only recovering neglected figures like Painter but also foregrounding research methods such as oral histories and community archives that challenge the institutional biases of traditional film historiography. Painter’s contributions exemplify this alternative cinematic trajectory, one that emerged outside the dominant colonial centers of Bombay, Madras, and Calcutta. As a Bahujan filmmaker and artisan, his work disrupts the singular, upper-caste-led history of Indian cinema by highlighting localized, caste-conscious, and craft-based filmmaking practices. In an era of rising hyper-nationalism, revisiting Painter’s legacy becomes even more urgent. His story offers a more inclusive, multifaceted understanding of India’s cinematic past—one that acknowledges the role of labor, caste, and non-institutional knowledge in shaping early film history. By centering figures like Painter, we can rethink film history not as a story of individual artistic genius but as a collective, material, and deeply embedded cultural practice.
Rutuja Deshmukh presenting Painter’s work at the Domitor Conference, 2024.