Kejriwal's Odd Even Dobara is like Ram Gopal Varma's Raat

As Delhi gears up for the second coming of the Odd-Even arrangement between April 15 and 30, depending on how one chooses to see the glass, one could be imagining traffic snarls, overcrowded Metro carriages, chaos running large at police checkposts at Delhi's entry points, or empty roads where driving is a world of difference from yesterday, breathing easy in otherwise unimaginable scenarios, reaching on time for appointments, evoking the Mirza Ghalib fan within and sighing, "…ki yun hota to kya hota."

Intriguingly, for this writer, the words "Odd-Even Dobara" bring to mind the likes of Mehboob Khan, Ram Gopal Varma, Sanjay Leela Bhansali or Alfred Hitchcock, Cecil B DeMille and Michael Mann. Notwithstanding the mixed response to the first version of Odd-Even - which didn't quite achieve the desired result of bringing down the city's pollution level, but alternatively decongested the city of vehicular movement - the Delhi CM's conviction is reminiscent of these filmmakers who, when convinced of an idea, don't rest until it meets the success it deserves.

Filmmakers often make the same film over and over again. But beyond a signature style or trying to cash in on the same cheque twice, there are two instances when filmmakers chose to remake the same film. It's either for the love of the subject or money (and usually it's the money) or the chance to get things done better by exerting a somewhat more experienced artistic personality upon the same material.

Take for instance the case of Mehboob Khan's Aurat (1940) that the filmmaker later remade as Mother India (1957). While the latter is considered one of the greatest films, the former isn't as readily recalled even though both versions depict the ultimate sacrifice made by a mother - killing her own son. Mehboob's decision to remake Aurat as Mother India, like DeMille's 1956 remake of his 1923 version of The Ten Commandments could have a lot to do with the technological advances cinema had made between the films.

In both DeMille and Mehboob Khan's case, remaking their own films in different eras and different sensibilities took it to a level that continues to remain peerless.

Unlike these two when Hitchcock remade The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) he was certain that wanted to polish the rough edges of the original that he believed to be "the work of an amateur".

While there are numerous examples of "auto-remakes" enhancing a filmmaker's previous outing, the best is Michael Mann's pilot for his aborted TV series LA Takedown (1989), which was transformed into the crime epic Heat (1995). This practice can also suggest filmmakers questioning their amour propre - tested by their inability, at times, to come to terms with the audience's rejection of their work.

Two genre-defining films Bhoot (2003) and Black (2005), which are but rehashed versions of their filmmakers' previous films (that were commercial failures) presents a compelling argument.

Many believe that Ram Gopal Varma's Raat (1989) was a far superior film than Bhoot but it was the former's failure that prompted him to revisit the same story including many of the set-pieces again at a time when the genre had become slightly more mainstream, thanks to success of Raaz (2002), and, of course, with a much bigger cast and better production values.

Similarly, the manner in which Khamoshi: The Musical (1996) failed to strike a chord with the viewers, left Bhansali's heartbroken. Fans of the film echoed the filmmaker's dismay and pondered endlessly about why a film with great music, a top-notch cast, and all the right ingredients didn't work till Black happened.

The all-around success of Black like the failure of Khamoshi: The Musical also left many baffled for the former seemed to pull all stops on making the latter's emotional features prominent and its emotional design appeared to have been mapped out for a specific audience response.

The analogy between a self-indulgent filmmaker and an elected CM of a state wouldn't be completely correct.

But is the comparison really that far off? For the sake of argument a filmmaker's indulgence is pardonable, after all you do have a choice to not see a Bhoot or a Black or The Man Who Knew Too Much but what choice does a person in Delhi, who doesn't fall in the exempted list, do on odd-numbered days with an even numbered car but find alternative means of transport?

The feedback on the initial Odd-Even experiment came from far and wide. Ranging from political and social observers, the opposition, journalists, environmental agencies and even the Delhi High Court commented on the rule and even though the reaction has made it more than clear that the whole plan wasn't as effective as it was supposed to be, the CM has decided to go ahead with it once again.

While initially the pitch was that this would reduce the city's pollution level, it's now being hailed as the one where the city's streets won't be congested for 15 days.

It's interesting to see how even in the face of glaring empirical evidence that suggests a rule that couldn't produce certain desired results was implemented to get those specific results - a 2013 IIT-Kanpur report stated that two-wheelers polluted more than cars when it came to PM10 and PM2.5 - so, how come two-wheelers that contributed to approximately 33 per cent of the air pollution in Delhi were exempted and while cars that account for 10 per cent of the pollution were taken off the streets?

Arguably, private four-wheelers are also better maintained than commercial three-wheelers or commercial buses. Simple mathematics would say that at least 10 per cent pollution ought to have come down, but then the increase in the numbe of buses during the period would add to the five per cent that buses were already contributing and with no change in road dust, which was responsible for 38 per cent of PM 2.5 levels, the change would have been barely noticeable.

Of course, in the times that we live, any change is good but the simple question to be asked is - at what cost? 

One ought not to conflate artistic license with administrative imperatives.

But in a country where politicians make jokes about the most serious of things - remember Ajit Pawar, the then Maharashtra deputy CM offering to urinate to fill empty dams, or the Netaji Mulayam Singh Yadav's "Boys make mistakes, why hang them?" shocker on rape - and filmmakers behave as if they carry the burden of humanity on their shoulders, it's little difficult not to.

The state's transport minister, Gopal Rai, had no answers when asked how parents would pick up their children in the afternoon when the rule would be in play after dropping them in the morning when Odd-Even is not effective.

The CM in the meantime has tweeted asking people for a solution to help solve the "real problem".

Even allegations by AAP insiders about a CNG sticker scam don't seem to deter or trouble at all. Much like a seasoned filmmaker who, while revisiting the same story derives strength from the "will fix in the edit" dictum, the Delhi CM Arvind Kejriwal brushing away certain facts in the name of ramblings from naysayers is but an auteur-like move to remake the same film in the hope of different outcome.

The CM's fondness for films and his penchant for tweeting his reviews might just come in handy now and who knows what things might become. Remember the episode from the late Jaspal Bhatti's iconic Flopshow where a filmmaker's doggedness is rewarded in a manner most unexpected - the makers of a horror film end up winning the best comedy film award for no fault of theirs.