Exhausted by the excessive violence, toxic masculinity and crass comedies of pan-Asian and global cinema, Khalid Mohamed shares some of his hidden delights tucked away in the seams and folds of YouTube.

YouTube, founded on February 14, 2005, isn’t just a hub of viral trends — it’s a goldmine of cinematic heritage, global storytelling, and independent creativity. For film lovers seeking substance over spectacle, the platform offers restored short films from FTII, candid interviews, insightful reviews, Pakistani serials rich in tehzeeb, and rare classics by auteurs like Yasujiro Ozu and Alfred Hitchcock. Despite its chaos and ads, YouTube remains an unexpected archive where hidden gems outshine algorithmic noise, reaffirming why the joy of discovering authentic content still matters.

Unearthing FTII’s Lost Treasures

Among YouTube’s most rewarding surprises are restored short films from the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII), Pune. These diploma films, dating back to the mid-1960s, reveal early glimpses of India’s greatest actors, directors, and technicians before they transformed cinema.

Filmed with minimal budgets and basic equipment, these shorts often look rough today but pulse with realism and teamwork. Shot on real locations, they mirror stories still relevant. Mani Kaul’s 6.40 p.m., for instance, speaks through visuals rather than dialogue — following a young man from Pune to Bombay in a breathtaking long take along Marine Drive, unmatched even by today’s technology. The film captures his emotional paralysis beside a woman of a higher class, ending with him walking away into loneliness — a portrait of inner turmoil and silent class barriers.

Kaul’s style, influenced by Robert Bresson and Ritwik Ghatak, was always internalised rather than imitated. Though related to actor-director Mahesh Kaul of Talaq and Sapno ka Saudagar fame, Mani Kaul avoided nepotism, preferring his own radical, non-linear vision — often dismissed as abstruse but deeply personal. His documentaries like Arrival and features such as Uski Roti remain accessible online.

Similarly, Kumar Shahani’s fiercely original works, including Tarang and Kasba, stand as testaments to artistic freedom. Other FTII gems include Madan Bavaria’s Suman, featuring a young Jaya Bhaduri as a village girl — a theme she later reprised in Uphaar — and Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s Murder at Monkey Hill, a plea for financial backing of FTII talent that evolved into his first feature Sazaye Maut starring Naseeruddin Shah and Radha Saluja.

Also worth a watch: H. Shamshudeen’s The Angry Young Man, where Shatrughan Sinha delivers a chilling performance as a psychotic killer, and Raj Ranjan Prasad’s unintentionally hilarious Abhisar, starring Subhash Ghai as a Buddhist monk — yes, you read that right.

The roster of FTII alumni includes Shabana Azmi, Rehana Sultan, Vijay Arora, Asrani, Zarina Wahab, and others who soon became industry icons. Even Irrfan Khan, though not a student, often participated in these student projects. NSD graduates like Om Puri also collaborated on productions such as Ghashiram Kotwal.

There are darker tales too — like that of Mahendra Jaspal, a friend of Naseeruddin Shah and Om Puri, who tragically stabbed Naseer after a falling-out, as recounted in Naseer’s autobiography And Then One Day (2015). Jaspal later retreated into obscurity and depression in Punjab.

Despite the occasional technical glitch or confusing search results, the FTII channel is a goldmine. One just needs patience — and perhaps persistence — to unearth its treasures.

Interview Overload: Between Insight and Ego

YouTube is flooded with celebrity interviews, some illuminating, others forgettable. I tried watching the endless studio chats celebrating Shabana Azmi’s 50-year career — articulate as always, yet most interviewers recycled information from Wikipedia.

Surprisingly, the one with Mira Nair disappointed the most; Nair spoke more about herself than her subject.

Then there’s Karan Johar — filmmaker, talk show host, and fashion icon. Critics accuse him of producing underwhelming films and promoting star kids like Alia Bhatt, Varun Dhawan, Janhvi Kapoor, and Ananya Panday — the “nepo kids,” a term Kangana Ranaut first fired off on Koffee with Karan.

Body-shamed for his transformation, accused of overexposure, Karan responds with calm stoicism. Like the greats before him — Mehboob Khan, Guru Dutt, Raj Kapoor, and Dev Anand — he’s facing his career’s trough. Comparing him with Aditya Chopra or Sooraj Barjatya may seem unfair, but none of them have had an unbroken run either. My take? Don’t write him off yet. The industry thrives on reinvention. Give him a chance.

The Rise of YouTube Reviewers

Filmmakers have always said, “Critics don’t know a damn,” until a review flatters them. Print reviewers like Deepa Gahlot, Nandini Ramanathan (Scroll.in), and Raja Sen (Mint) remain worth following for their distinctive voices. But online, criticism has become an unruly traffic jam. Many reviewers now react to trailers rather than films. The good news — such snap judgments seem to be fading, possibly trolled out of existence.

One refreshing exception is Jammy Pants (Anmol Jamwal) from NOIDA’s Tried and Refused Productions. Honest, energetic, and pan-Indian in taste, he highlights unconventional Telugu, Tamil, and Malayalam films. Reading from a teleprompter with a Punjabi twang and self-deprecating humour, Jamwal’s reviews feel like conversations, not lectures.

His pseudonym nods to “Sammy Pants,” a British YouTuber who gleefully reacts to Bollywood’s flashiest songs. Sammy’s fascination with Nora Fatehi’s dance moves, Shreya Ghoshal’s vocals, and A.R. Rahman’s compositions — all without realising Rahman has two Oscars — is both funny and oddly endearing. Yet even he seems to have reached saturation, moving toward new music explorations.

Beyond Borders: Pakistani Dramas and Global Classics

Until recently, I hadn’t watched Pakistani dramas, once wildly popular among Indian women viewers. With Zee5 halting cross-border content, YouTube now offers the only window to their refined storytelling — marked by tehzeeb, minimal violence, and emotional depth without political baggage.

Main Manto Nahin Hoon is a standout — an ironic title for a series about a man battling inner cowardice rather than confronting injustice like the real Manto. Its forbidden romance between a 40-year-old professor and his 22-year-old student, set against a long-standing mafia feud, unfolds with restraint and sensitivity.

Other must-watches include Tum Mere Kya Ho, exploring love’s moral purity, and Case No. 9, a searing portrayal of a woman’s humiliation after filing a rape FIR against her powerful boss — told with unflinching honesty.

YouTube’s global vaults also hold cinematic jewels — Yasujiro Ozu’s serene Japanese masterpieces, Hollywood’s 1940s noir thrillers, Alfred Hitchcock’s early mysteries, and even Aamir Khan’s mid-budget Sitaare Zameen Par, offered online at a fraction of a multiplex snack break. Clearly, Khan’s experiment with affordability has succeeded.

Closing Thoughts: Clicks, Chaos, and Cinema

For all its clutter, YouTube remains a space of discovery — a modern archive that democratizes access to art, ideas, and forgotten history. It’s the world’s largest cinema hall, accessible to anyone with curiosity and a Wi-Fi signal.

Still, a word of caution: use it as a supplement, not a substitute. Watch those priceless shorts, rediscover Mani Kaul, listen to critics who care, and sample the Pakistani dramas that bridge hearts across borders. But don’t forget the timeless joy of watching a truly great film on the big screen, in the dark, with an audience breathing the same story.