


Kashmir’s First International Film Festival Sparks Push for Homegrown Film Industry
The International Film Festival of Jammu & Kashmir (IFFJK) has concluded in Srinagar, but its most important question begins after the four-day event: can cinema help Jammu and Kashmir build a homegrown creative industry while giving the region a new way to tell stories of conflict, identity and reconciliation? National Conference president Farooq Abdullah, speaking during the festival, urged young people to seize the opportunity to become actors, writers, music directors and filmmakers, declaring, “I believe we ourselves will become Bollywood.”
Held from September 7 to 10, the maiden festival brought around 135 films from 41 countries to Srinagar. Its conclusion on Thursday was marked by a performance by singer Usha Uthup, while filmmakers, critics and festival-goers called for greater local participation, regular screenings, training programmes and stronger infrastructure so that the event can develop into a sustainable filmmaking culture rather than remain a once-a-year celebration.
That continuity is particularly important because Kashmir’s relationship with cinema has been repeatedly interrupted. Once one of Indian cinema’s favourite locations, the Valley saw its movie theatres shut during the militancy that began in the late 1980s, while filmmakers moved away amid security concerns. Recent attempts to rebuild movie-going and attract productions have also faced setbacks, including the disruption caused by the April 2025 Pahalgam terror attack.
The real value of a renewed Kashmiri film culture, however, may extend beyond entertainment and tourism. Films can provide a space to portray the human consequences of conflict without reducing people to political labels. ‘Aijaz Khan’s’ Hamid is a powerful example. The film follows an eight-year-old Kashmiri boy who, grieving his missing father, dials 786 hoping to speak to Allah and instead forms an unexpected connection with a CRPF personnel. The story turns a deeply contested political landscape into an intimate encounter between two human beings affected by violence. The film won the National Film Award for Best Feature Film in Urdu.
That kind of storytelling can matter in an atmosphere where India-Pakistan relations have increasingly developed a cultural cold war, with artistic exchanges and people-to-people contact shrinking alongside political tensions. Cultural encounters have historically offered ways to humanise those on the other side and challenge demonisation.
This does not mean cinema can resolve a geopolitical dispute on its own. But it can create empathy, conversation and shared human experiences that politics often struggles to provide. Stories about families divided by conflict, children growing up amid uncertainty, soldiers and civilians confronting loss, or ordinary people on opposite sides discovering common emotions can complicate simplistic narratives of “us” and “them”.
IFFJK’s international and regional character makes that possibility particularly relevant. Bengali filmmaker ‘Pradipta Bhattacharya’s’ Nadharer Bhela was the only Indian film reported in the international competition, while masterclasses such as filmmaker Ashoke Viswanathan’s session on acting, OTT and artificial intelligence exposed participants to contemporary filmmaking.
For Jammu and Kashmir, the next step is to convert that exchange into a year-round ecosystem. The region’s filmmakers need training, production and post-production facilities, regular screenings and easier access to national and international distribution. Its Kashmiri and Dogri-language cinema can increasingly use OTT platforms to reach audiences beyond the Valley.
There is also an economic opportunity. Kashmir’s iconic landscapes - Pahalgam, Gulmarg, Sonamarg and Baisaran - have long been associated with Indian cinema. A stronger film industry can attract productions, festival visitors and cultural tourists, generating business for hotels, transport, restaurants, guides and local creative professionals.
The challenge now is to ensure that IFFJK does not end with its closing ceremony. Its lasting achievement would be a generation of Kashmiri and Jammu filmmakers telling complex stories in their own voices - stories that can entertain, preserve culture, create jobs and, perhaps most importantly, allow audiences separated by politics to recognise one another's humanity.
Farooq Abdullah’s “we ourselves will become Bollywood” may therefore be better understood not as a call to replicate Mumbai, but as an ambition for Kashmir to become a cinematic voice in its own right. If films like Hamid show what that voice can accomplish, the region’s next cinematic chapter could be about more than locations and box office numbers. It could be about telling stories that build bridges where politics has built walls.
