The initial investment for my debut feature film totals around 25 million taka, with a notable contribution of nearly 8 million taka from the Lithuanian Ministry of Culture, a country where I lack citizenship and identify as effectively stateless. Conversely, in Bangladesh, my home country, I face hurdles in submitting any project to the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting. The cumbersome process of printing multiple hard copies of documents and physically delivering them among different ministry offices often halts progress before it even begins.
The latest national film grant guidelines in Bangladesh mandate applicants to furnish twelve printed copies of their proposals. Each copy must contain the complete script, production plan, and detailed cast and crew lists. A typical 90-minute film necessitates at least 90 pages of script, pushing the proposal to about 150 pages with additional documentation. Multiplied by twelve, the paperwork accumulates to a staggering 1,800 pages. This bureaucratic burden raises questions about the enduring influence of colonial administrative practices.
The disparity in administrative procedures between countries not only underscores economic contrasts but also reflects divergent governmental ideologies. In one setting, my project’s dossier serves as evidence of my capabilities, with evaluations conducted entirely online by unseen assessors. In stark contrast, my own country requires the physical transfer of thick paper files across ministries, emphasizing a paper-centric validation process. Even with changes in leadership, this entrenched practice remains resistant to reform efforts.
Globally, cinema typically falls under cultural ministries, aligning it with broader cultural frameworks. European countries, for instance, manage film funding and incentives through cultural institutions, viewing cinema as a cultural asset intertwined with freedom of expression, societal memory, and diversity. However, in Bangladesh, film oversight falls under the Ministry of “Information,” connoting a focus on information control rather than cultural development.
Historically, Bangladeshi cinema has served as a tool for state propaganda, disseminating official narratives rather than fostering critical inquiry. The absence of “culture” in the ministry’s nomenclature reflects this policy orientation. The prevalent censorship, often under moral pretexts related to attire, underscores the state’s emphasis on messaging over artistic exploration. The bureaucratic culture extends to the grant system, where art is perceived more as a tool for state legitimacy than a fundamental civic right.
In contrast, Lithuania’s film funding process, from application to auditing, is digitally streamlined, ensuring transparency and accountability. Applications undergo two-tier evaluation – first for compliance, then for qualitative assessment by expert panels. Scores, results, and grant allocations are publicly disclosed, emphasizing the meticulous handling of public funds.
Despite recent reforms in Bangladesh’s grant mechanisms, such as selection presentations and adherence to international evaluation standards, the persistence of manual submission processes highlights a reluctance to embrace digital advancements. This procedural lag not only impedes creativity but also underscores a bureaucratic mindset that prioritizes form over content, deterring aspiring filmmakers at the outset.
In Bangladeshi society, there exists an unspoken hierarchy that values being the first to achieve milestones. Yet, the exhaustion of navigating bureaucratic hurdles dampens the enthusiasm of sharing accomplishments, reflecting a societal fixation on institutional credentials and proximity to power rather than creative merit.
The emphasis on education for bureaucratic roles and social status perpetuates a system where knowledge is valued primarily for its instrumental utility in securing government positions. This societal ethos diminishes the intrinsic worth of education and stifles individual agency, redirecting youth aspirations towards administrative stability rather than creative pursuits.
The Lithuanian Film Centre’s transparent and competitive grant process, which prioritizes public accountability, embodies a policy framework that transcends national boundaries. The clarity and fairness of Lithuania’s approach contrast with the nepotism and bureaucratic quotas that often plague grant disbursement in Bangladesh.
Efforts to transform Bangladesh’s film landscape include advocating for complete digitization of grant processes, transferring cinema oversight to the Ministry of Culture, and establishing a Diaspora Film Fund to support Bangladeshi filmmakers abroad. Furthermore, promoting media literacy in schools can cultivate critical thinking skills among the youth, fostering a nuanced understanding of cinema beyond mere entertainment or propaganda.
Ultimately, storytelling lies at the heart of a nation’s identity. Upon completing my film, I aspire to celebrate not just personal achievements but also a societal shift towards recognizing and valuing creative endeavors as essential pillars of social progress.