100 Years of J&K Cinema

1926: When the Maharaja Brought Cinema Home

From the first cameras on the Jhelum to royal projectors, international filmmaking, magnificent palaces, packed theatres, Dogri cinema, a long interruption and today's international revival, Jammu and Kashmir has lived with cinema for more than a century says Heena Mahajan.

There could hardly be a more fitting moment to revisit the cinematic history of Jammu and Kashmir than September 2026. As the International Film Festival of Jammu & Kashmir brought filmmakers, artists, audiences and films from across the world to the region, it was tempting to describe it as the beginning of a new cinematic chapter. History, however, tells us something more fascinating.

This is not the beginning of the relationship between Jammu and Kashmir and cinema. It is the revival of a relationship that is more than a century old.

The camera came to Jammu and Kashmir when cinema itself was still young. It found the Jhelum, Srinagar and the extraordinary landscapes of Kashmir, but it also encountered a royal State whose history, architecture, culture and people offered an equally compelling visual world. Jammu had its palaces, processions, temples, hills, rivers and Dogra heritage. Kashmir had its lakes, mountains, gardens and valleys. Together, they offered cinema what it has always needed: stories, people and places worth filming. What followed was a remarkable journey from the travelling camera to the royal projector, from palace ceremonies to public theatres, from being filmed by outsiders to telling our own stories, and finally from a long interruption to the revival we are witnessing today. At the heart of this story stands a ruler whose relationship with cinema deserves far greater recognition: Maharaja Hari Singh.

Before 1926, the Camera Had Already Discovered J&K

Cinema was barely eight years old when moving images began reaching the region. As early as 1903, Reverend J. Gregory Mantle filmed scenes around Srinagar, including the Jhelum and the journey towards Kashmir. In 1912, the Edison Company produced Cashmere, carrying images of the Valley, the Jhelum, bridges and royal surroundings to audiences far beyond the region. These early films placed Jammu and Kashmir in the international visual imagination at a time when cinema itself was still in its infancy. But there was more to this land than the landscapes that first attracted foreign cameras.

Kashmir offered the spectacle of nature; Jammu offered the spectacle of history.Its temples, hills, bazaars, royal processions and magnificent Dogra architecture gave the camera another world to discover. And nowhere was that royal grandeur more striking than in Jammu itself. So 1926 cannot be called the year cinema arrived in Jammu and Kashmir. The camera had already arrived. What happened in 1926 was something much more significant.

1926: When Maharaja Hari Singh Saw What the Camera Could Become

Herford T. Cowling, an American filmmaker and cinematographer, had developed a relationship with Jammu and Kashmir and with the young Hari Singh before the Maharaja's coronation. Cowling came to Kashmir in 1923 and, with Hari Singh's intervention, was able to undertake his celebrated journey to Tibet. Three years later, the relationship took a remarkable turn.

When Maharaja Hari Singh's coronation was held in Jammu in 1926, Cowling was commissioned to film the ceremony. The resulting production, An Indian Durbar, documented the coronation of Maharaja Hari Singh and survives as a rare moving record of that historic ceremony. The surviving film includes court scenes, the royal procession, an elephant procession and ceremonial moments. And what a setting it was. The coronation unfolded against the magnificent backdrop of Mubarak Mandi, the great Dogra palace complex overlooking the Tawi River. With its courtyards, grand facades and distinctive blend of architectural influences, Mubarak Mandi represented the history and grandeur of the Dogra State. By the time of Hari Singh's accession, the palace had ceased to be his principal residence, but it remained an extraordinary symbol of the dynasty and of Jammu's royal heritage.

Contemporary accounts describe Jammu being decorated and illuminated for the celebrations, with a magnificent procession of elephants moving from Mubarak Mandi towards Purani Mandi for the Raj Tilak ceremony, while citizens crowded the streets to witness the spectacle. This was not merely a coronation. This was cinema meeting Jammu and Kashmir at its most spectacular.And there is an extraordinary detail in the filming itself.

The 1926 production involved a sophisticated multi-camera arrangement. High-end cameras were procured from Bell & Howell, Eastman supplied the film stock and specialised lighting was brought from Paris. Most remarkably, an Akeley camera, an advanced motion-picture camera of its era, was used as the first use of an Akeley camera in India, with its debut taking place in Jammu and Kashmir during the filming of Mahataja Hari Singh's coronation. That is an extraordinary piece of cinematic history.

It would be incorrect to say that Maharaja Hari Singh's was the first royal coronation in India to be filmed. Earlier imperial and royal ceremonies had already been captured by international filmmakers. What makes the 1926 event remarkable is the international character and technological sophistication of the production, and the fact that such advanced filmmaking equipment was brought to Jammu and Kashmir for the occasion. Maharaja Hari Singh was not merely standing before the camera. He was becoming part of a new visual age.

The Maharaja Who Brought the Projector Home

The story becomes even more remarkable after the coronation. Cowling later arranged and sent two movie projectors to the Maharaja. One was installed in the palace in Srinagar and another in his Jammu palace. Maharaja Hari Singh also subscribed to a film service based in Bombay, while Cowling recorded that the Maharaja had expressed a desire to establish modern cinema theatres and halls in Jammu and Kashmir. This is where Maharaja Hari Singh's vision begins to look remarkably modern. He did not see cinema merely as something to be watched when foreign filmmakers happened to arrive. He saw it as a technology that could become part of the modern public life of the princely state of Jammu and Kashmir.

The projector could bring the world into Jammu and Kashmir. The camera could carry Jammu and Kashmir into the world. And the fact that the royal projectors were associated with both Jammu and Srinagar is especially significant. His cinematic imagination belonged to the State.

From Royal Palaces to Public Screens

Cinema soon began moving beyond royal spaces and into public life. By the early 1930s, Srinagar had developed public cinema halls, with Palladium Talkies, established in 1932, becoming one of the earliest and most important. Regal and other theatres followed, and cinema gradually spread to places such as Anantnag, Baramulla and Sopore. The screen was no longer confined to palaces, private audiences or travelling filmmakers. It was becoming part of everyday life, and Jammu was experiencing its own cinematic transformation. The city had something different but equally valuable to offer. If Kashmir had landscapes that filmmakers dreamed of capturing, Jammu had royal architecture, Dogra history, bustling bazaars, temples, hills, rivers and a growing urban audience. The cinematic possibilities of the region were never limited to one landscape. Jammu and Kashmir had two visual worlds, and both had stories to tell.

Jammu and Kashmir Embraced Cinema, and Made It Its Own

Any account of the cinematic journey of Jammu and Kashmir would remain incomplete without giving both parts of the region their rightful place. Kashmir became one of the great natural landscapes of Indian cinema. Jammu developed an equally distinctive culture of cinema-going, exhibition, performance and eventually filmmaking.

Jammu did not merely watch the cinematic journey unfold. It embraced it, celebrated it and made it part of everyday cultural life. Hari Talkies in Raghunath Bazaar, Uttam Talkies on Residency Road and Shankar Theatre became important landmarks of the city's early cinema culture. At Hari Talkies, films were sometimes screened in morning shows from Hollywood, while a single print could be shared between Hari and Uttam, with employees physically carrying film reels from one theatre to another between shows.

Then came another generation of theatres. KC, Shakuntala, Swarn and Apsara expanded Jammu's cinematic landscape. These theatres became much more than commercial establishments. They were places where generations grew up, families spent evenings, young people discovered films and actors became part of everyday conversation. Posters, ticket counters, interval discussions, popular songs and the excitement of a new release became part of Jammu's rhythm. Jammu did not stand outside the cinematic history of Jammu and Kashmir. Jammu lived that history.

When Cinema Became Memory

The decades that followed produced the golden years of cinema across Jammu and Kashmir. Theatres multiplied, audiences expanded, film stars became cultural icons and cinema halls became landmarks in cities and towns. In Kashmir, theatres such as Palladium, Regal, Broadway, Neelam, Shiraz, Khayam, Naaz and Firdous became part of a thriving cinema culture. Khayam, which opened in 1968, became notable for its 70mm screen.

Jammu had its own equally vivid cinema memories.For generations, going to the cinema meant a family outing, a school-holiday plan, a first date, a long-awaited release, a morning show or a queue outside the ticket window. It meant sitting in a darkened hall, waiting for the lights to go down and those first images to appear. The buildings may change and projectors may become obsolete, but the cultural memory created around cinema does not disappear so easily.

From Being Filmed to Telling Our Own Stories

For decades, the outside camera had looked at Jammu and Kashmir. Gradually, Jammu and Kashmir began looking back through the camera. Kashmiri-language filmmaking emerged, with Mainz Raat generally identified as the first Kashmiri feature film, released in 1964. Regional stories began finding their way to the screen.

While in Jammu, Dogri cinema opened another important path towards representing the region's language, people and cultural identity. That moment came in 1966 with Gallan Hoyian Beetiyan, widely recognised as the first Dogri feature film. Directed by Kuldip Kumar and produced by Tawi Films, the black-and-white film was based on Narendra Khajuria's play Pyasi Dharti. The camera was no longer simply observing Jammu and Kashmir. The region was beginning to speak through it.

When the Screens Went Dark

Yet, just as this cinematic culture had matured, history took a devastating turn. By the late 1980s and early 1990s, militancy brought a severe interruption to cinema in the Valley. Threats and attacks forced cinema halls to close, and a public cinema culture built over generations fell silent. Later attempts to reopen theatres also faced serious challenges. The loss was larger than a closed theatre. It was the loss of an ecosystem: the theatre worker, the projectionist, the poster artist, the distributor, the ticket seller, the film enthusiast, the family planning a movie outing and the young person dreaming of filmmaking. An entire chain of cultural activity had been disrupted.

Yet the cinematic spirit of Jammu and Kashmir did not disappear. The journey had never belonged to one city alone. And Jammu continued to carry its own relationship with cinema.

When the Screens Returned and Turned Tragic

The government made a serious attempt to revive cinema in the late 1990s. Broadway and Neelam reopened in Srinagar in 1999, and on 24 September that year, Regal Cinema in Lal Chowk reopened after nearly a decade. But the return lasted only hours before turning tragic. As moviegoers came out after the inaugural screening of Pyaar Koi Khel Nahin, militants hurled three hand grenades at the cinema. One person was killed and at least 12 others were injured. The attack sent a chilling message to theatre owners and audiences, and the attempt to revive cinema once again faltered. Broadway eventually closed in 2005, while Neelam continued for a few more years before shutting down in 2010. Thus, the Valley was again left without a functioning conventional cinema theatre.

A meaningful return finally came in 2022, when INOX opened a multiplex in Srinagar, bringing the big-screen experience back after roughly 23 years. The significance of that return went beyond a new theatre: it marked the reopening of a cultural space that an entire generation had grown up without.The story, however, did not end there.

Cinema in Jammu is entering yet another age.

And now, cinema in Jammu is entering yet another age. Modern destinations such as WAVE Cinemas at The Wave Mall and Palm Island have changed the way audiences encounter films, bringing the big screen into a wider culture of leisure, dining, entertainment and social life.

The cinema outing is no longer simply about sitting in a theatre and watching a film; it has become part of a larger urban experience, one that is attracting a new generation of audiences in Malls.

And 2022 brought the screen back to Kashmir as well, and 2026 is bringing Jammu and Kashmir back into the international cinematic conversation again.

2026: The Screen Lights Up Again

In that sense, the contemporary cinema space is carrying forward something that began nearly a century ago with Hari Singh's projectors: the idea that cinema is not merely a technology, but a way of connecting people, places and imagination. Jammu's new-age cinema therefore sits naturally within its older story not as a departure from the past, but as its next chapter. That is why the International Film Festival of Jammu & Kashmir arrive at such a significant moment. The first IFFJK, was held from 7 to 10 September 2026 under the theme "Rang-e-Cinema," brought films from across the world together with regional cinema, documentaries, shorts, masterclasses and dedicated J&K programming. Jammu was part of this festival journey through WAVE Cinemas Jammu, alongside venues in Srinagar and Gulmarg.

The festival is new. The relationship is not. That distinction matters. If we describe this merely as the arrival of international cinema in Jammu and Kashmir, we risk erasing the camera on the Jhelum in 1903, the Edison Company's Cashmere of 1912, the international cameras that came to Jammu for Maharaja Hari Singh's coronation, the extraordinary setting of Mubarak Mandi, the Maharaja's projectors, Palladium and Regal, Hari Talkies and Uttam, Shankar, Swarn, Shakuntala and Apsara, the audiences who filled those theatres and the filmmakers who eventually began telling their own stories. We would be erasing a century of cinematic memory. The more accurate word is revival.

A Revival, Not a Beginning

There is something wonderfully appropriate about cinema returning to the landscapes and heritage that have inspired generations of filmmakers. The floating screen on Dal Lake adds another unforgettable dimension, turning the landscape itself into part of the cinematic experience.

But Jammu too has cinematic landscapes waiting to be rediscovered. The grandeur of Mubarak Mandi, the Tawi flowing beneath it, the historic lanes of the old city, Bahu, the hills, temples, forts, palaces and the wider Duggar landscape offer a visual vocabulary of their own, still waiting to be fully explored. If Kashmir has its breathtaking valleys, lakes and mountains, Jammu has its palaces, heritage, rivers, lakes, hills and living Dogra culture. The region does not need to borrow cinematic beauty. It already possesses it.

Yet, as we celebrate the 2026 revival, there is also a larger question worth asking: has our cinematic vision of Jammu and Kashmir become too narrowly centred on the Valley? If the story of cinema in the region is to be revived in its true sense, Jammu cannot remain a secondary backdrop to that story. Its contribution is far older and far deeper than that of a mere festival venue. The filming of Maharaja Hari Singh's coronation took place in Jammu in 1926; Jammu had its royal projectors, its historic cinema halls, its audiences, its theatre tradition and, eventually, its own Dogri cinema.

To overlook this legacy is not simply to leave out Jammu; it is to leave out an important part of the cinematic history of Jammu and Kashmir itself. The deeper significance of the 2026 revival therefore lies beyond the spectacle of screenings and visiting filmmakers. It should be an opportunity to reconnect the whole of Jammu and Kashmir with the larger cinematic world and, at the same time, rediscover the creative wealth that already exists on both sides of the Pir Panjal. Kashmir has its extraordinary cinematic identity, but Jammu has one too. The two should not compete for the screen; together, they can make the screen larger.

The question is no longer simply whether filmmakers should come here to shoot. The question is whether Jammu and Kashmir can become a place that creates cinema, and whether Jammu, which experienced one of the region's oldest and most remarkable links with the moving image, can reclaim its rightful place in that creative future. That is where the real promise of this revival lies: not merely in bringing the world to Jammu and Kashmir, but in giving Jammu and Kashmir the confidence, infrastructure and imagination to take its own stories to the world.

Let Jammu and Kashmir Create

Let filmmakers come to Jammu and Kashmir, certainly. Let them discover our writers, actors, musicians, cinematographers, editors, technicians, artists and storytellers. Let Jammu's Dogri literature find cinematic expression. Let Kashmiri stories travel to international audiences. Let our folklore, history, architecture and contemporary life become sources of stories. Let Mubarak Mandi, Bahu, the Tawi, the Chenab, the Pir Panjal, Kashmir's lakes and valleys, our temples, palaces, villages, forests and towns become more than beautiful backdrops. Let them become characters in our stories. And Jammu should be an equal and energetic participant in this movement, not merely as a festival venue but as a creative centre in its own right. Because Jammu already has what many emerging film destinations spend years trying to build: memory, audiences, artists, language, stories and a living cultural identity. Its Dogri literary tradition, theatre, music and visual heritage provide a natural foundation for a stronger cinematic ecosystem.

1926 was not the beginning of cinema in Jammu and Kashmir. It was the moment when a Maharaja understood its future. And perhaps, a century later, the real challenge before Jammu and Kashmir is to understand that future once again.