Bollywood has a long history of finding inspiration in literature. From classic novels to true-life biographies, many Hindi films are adapted from books. In recent years, this trend has grown especially in the last decade, with filmmakers bringing popular novels and real stories to the big screen. The result is a mix of critically acclaimed hits and ambitious misses. This raises an intriguing question: when Bollywood adapts a book into a film, is it a creative success or just a shortcut to a ready story? In this article, we delve into the adaptations of the past ten years, focusing on examples like The White Tiger, Raazi, and Gangubai Kathiawadi. We will explore how faithfully these films stick to their source material, what changes they make, and how audiences and critics have reacted.
Bollywood’s increasing reliance on books for source material can be seen in numerous films. Directors often turn to best-selling novels or famous biographies to craft movies that come with a pre-existing fan base and solid story arcs. Some adaptations strive to remain faithful to the original narrative, preserving the spirit and details of the book. Others take significant creative liberties, altering characters or plotlines, sometimes to enhance cinematic drama and sometimes to simplify complex stories. Both approaches have yielded successes and failures.
In the sections below, we look at notable Bollywood adaptations from the 2015–2025 period. We compare how each film differs from its literary source in terms of story fidelity and character portrayal. We also discuss why certain changes were made and whether they paid off in terms of critical reception and box-office success. By the end, we’ll consider what these adaptations suggest about creativity in Bollywood: Are filmmakers genuinely re-imagining literature for a new medium, or are they using books as an easy formula for hits?
Contents
- Bollywood’s Bookish Turn in the Past Decade
- Faithful Adaptation or Creative Liberty?
- Book vs Film: A Comparison Table
- Storytelling Choices, Audience Reactions, and Bollywood Creativity
- Adapting Books: A Creative Journey or a Convenient Formula?
Bollywood’s Bookish Turn in the Past Decade
From gritty crime novels to heartwarming young-adult stories, various books have found their way to Bollywood’s studios in the past ten years. Here are some prominent examples of book-to-film adaptations in recent Hindi cinema:
- The White Tiger (2021) – Adapted from Aravind Adiga’s Man Booker Prize-winning novel The White Tiger.
- Raazi (2018) – Based on Harinder S. Sikka’s novel Calling Sehmat, a spy thriller inspired by a true story.
- Gangubai Kathiawadi (2022) – Inspired by a chapter from Hussain Zaidi’s true-crime book Mafia Queens of Mumbai, about the life of a brothel madam turned underworld figure.
- 2 States (2014) – Adapted from Chetan Bhagat’s bestselling novel 2 States: The Story of My Marriage, a romantic drama (just beyond 10 years but noteworthy).
- Half Girlfriend (2017) – Based on another Chetan Bhagat novel of the same name, a coming-of-age romance.
- Bombay Velvet (2015) – Loosely adapted from historian Gyan Prakash’s non-fiction book Mumbai Fables, reimagined as a 1960s crime drama.
- Dil Bechara (2020) – The Hindi adaptation of John Green’s novel The Fault in Our Stars, bringing a beloved YA story to an Indian setting.
- The Girl on the Train (2021) – A Bollywood remake of Paula Hawkins’ thriller novel, shifting the story to an Indian context.
These films span genres from thrillers and biopics to romance and crime. Each had its own motivations for adaptation, whether to tap into an existing fan following of a book, to tell a compelling true story, or to bring acclaimed literature to Indian audiences. However, the mere presence of rich source material doesn’t guarantee a great film. How the makers adapt the story is crucial. Let’s explore some major adaptations in detail to see if they remained true to their roots or if they altered the narrative for opportunistic reasons.
Faithful Adaptation or Creative Liberty?
When adapting a book, filmmakers must decide how closely to stick to the source. A faithful adaptation tries to recreate the book’s plot, characters, and tone on screen, only trimming or altering details as needed for runtime. A liberal adaptation (taking creative liberty) might change story elements, characters, or themes, either to suit cinematic tastes or to inject originality. Both approaches carry risks and rewards:
- Staying too faithful can result in a film that feels literary or overlong, failing to exploit the visual medium. But it can please fans of the book by honoring the original vision.
- Taking too many liberties might alienate loyal readers and stray from what made the story popular. However, smart changes can make a story more engaging or relevant for film audiences.
In Bollywood, we have seen both ends of this spectrum. For example, some movies keep the core of the book intact, while others only take the basic premise and build a very different narrative around it. Below, we examine specific cases to analyze their approach:
The White Tiger: From Page to Netflix Screen
Aravind Adiga’s novel The White Tiger (2008) was a sensation, winning the Booker Prize for its sharp satire of class and ambition in India. The 2021 film adaptation, directed by Ramin Bahrani and released on Netflix, had the challenge of compressing this darkly comic story into a two-hour movie. How faithful was it? By most accounts, the White Tiger film stayed quite true to the spirit of the novel. The film captures the book’s satirical tone and narrative arc, following Balram’s journey from poor village driver to savvy entrepreneur.
The author, Adiga, expressed satisfaction with the adaptation; he felt the movie “perfectly portrays the spirit and world” of his book and even “transcends it” in some ways. This is high praise, suggesting the film didn’t just copy the novel but added a new dimension while staying respectful to the source.
That said, some changes were made for cinematic effect. Bahrani, who was a close friend of Adiga, noted that the toughest part was deciding what details to cut while keeping the tone intact. One notable structural change is the film’s opening: the movie begins with a dramatic car accident scene that in the novel occurs only midway through the story. By turning that event into a cold open, the film grabs the viewer’s attention early. Additionally, in the novel, Balram reveals a major spoiler (his “big action”) at the very start through his narration, whereas the film withholds that information until the climax. These tweaks create more suspense for viewers not familiar with the book.
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In terms of character portrayal, the film’s casting and performances align well with the book’s characters. Adarsh Gourav’s portrayal of Balram retains the character’s cunning, ironic humor, and occasional unsettling darkness. The supporting characters (played by Priyanka Chopra Jonas and Rajkummar Rao) also match their literary counterparts in essence. Some of the novel’s deeper inner monologues had to be visualized or trimmed, but overall, Balram’s character on screen feels authentic to Adiga’s creation.
Reception-wise, The White Tiger film was critically acclaimed internationally. It earned an Oscar nomination for Best Adapted Screenplay, highlighting its success as an adaptation. Indian audiences and critics appreciated its gritty storytelling, though some felt the book’s darker humor and depth surpassed what the movie could convey. Nonetheless, as a Bollywood (or rather, Hollywood/Bollywood crossover) adaptation of an Indian novel, The White Tiger stands out as a faithful adaptation that still took a few creative steps to suit the screen.
Raazi: A True Spy Tale – Modified for Impact
Raazi (2018) is based on the novel Calling Sehmat by Harinder S. Sikka, which itself was inspired by a real Indian spy in the 1971 Indo-Pak war. The film, directed by Meghna Gulzar and starring Alia Bhatt, was both a critical and commercial success. However, if we compare it to the book, we find a number of interesting changes that reflect a balance between faithfulness and creative liberty.
The core plot remains intact: a young Indian woman, Sehmat, is married into a Pakistani military family to gather intelligence for India. The major beats, her passing information, nearly getting caught, and the moral dilemmas she faces are present in both the book and film. Yet, the film’s tone and character focus differ significantly from the novel’s. In Calling Sehmat, the protagonist is depicted as highly trained, exceptionally competent, and almost unflinching in her spy duties. The book’s Sehmat is a resourceful agent who stays calm under pressure and even boldly ingratiates herself with high-ranking officers to fulfill her mission.
By contrast, the movie’s Sehmat (played by Alia Bhatt) is portrayed as more vulnerable and emotionally driven. She comes across as an ordinary young woman thrust into espionage, nervous, compassionate, and guilt-ridden over the violence she is forced to commit. This creative choice makes the character more relatable to the audience and heightens the dramatic tension, as viewers worry about whether her fear will give her away.
Several specific changes highlight the film’s attempt to maximize drama and empathy:
- In the novel, Sehmat is physically adept (even a trained dancer) and handles guns confidently. The movie presents her as initially clumsy with weapons and combat. This “rookie” portrayal allows for a stronger character growth arc on screen, we see her learn and toughen up through the story.
- The book describes a supportive network of Indian spies aiding Sehmat only towards the very end, implying she was largely on her own. The film, however, shows Sehmat receiving help from multiple contacts (rickshaw drivers, embassy officers, etc.) throughout her mission. This change adds realism; it’s hard to believe a lone inexperienced girl could succeed entirely solo, and provides additional characters to move the plot along.
- Religious identity is a subtle theme in the book (Sehmat is a Muslim woman loyal to India). The film consciously downplays the religious angle, focusing purely on national loyalty. In fact, the movie avoids mentioning religion at all, emphasizing that patriotism rises above faith. This might be a deliberate creative choice in the current climate, to prevent any communal interpretation and keep the story’s message unifying.
- One notable plot liberty: in the film, when a servant named Abdul is killed (inadvertently by Sehmat), she hides her spy equipment in his quarters to deflect suspicion onto him after his death, a rather cold trick. In the novel, Sehmat adamantly refuses to let Abdul be blamed posthumously for her actions. Book-Sehmat carries the guilt of his death and won’t tarnish an innocent’s name. The movie likely added this twist for a suspenseful “will she be caught or not?” sequence, even if it makes Sehmat a bit more ruthless than her book version.
- The ending also differs in tone. The novel’s conclusion (and the real story’s implication) is somber. Sehmat survives and eventually dies an unsung hero in old age. The film gives a more poignant dramatic climax: Sehmat is extracted back to India amid high tension, her Pakistani husband (who had grown to love her) tragically dies, and she delivers an emotional monologue on the futility of war. The movie ends with her safe but emotionally shattered, a small positive note being that she is pregnant (hinting at new life and hope). This ending amplified the emotional impact for audiences, even though it softened the strictly realistic outcome.
The author of Calling Sehmat, Harinder Sikka, has voiced some displeasure with the adaptation, feeling that the film distorted certain aspects of his book and Sehmat’s character. He particularly objected to not being shown the final cut before release and the title change (from the real name Sehmat to the more commercially catchy Raazi). However, many viewers and critics felt that the changes made the story tighter and more cinematic. Raazi was praised for its patriotic theme delivered without jingoism and for Alia Bhatt’s heartfelt performance. It grossed over ₹200 crore worldwide, becoming one of the highest-grossing films driven by a female lead. In this case, the adaptation can be seen as a success – the film stayed true to the “spirit” of a brave spy’s tale but took some creative shortcuts to amplify drama and accessibility. Those shortcuts, arguably, paid off by resonating with a wide audience.
Gangubai Kathiawadi: Gritty Biography to Glamorous Biopic
When Sanjay Leela Bhansali adapted Gangubai Kathiawadi (2022) from a chapter in Hussain Zaidi’s Mafia Queens of Mumbai, the question arose: how much of the real story would remain, and how much would Bhansali morph it into his signature grandeur? The film tells the story of Gangubai, a young woman deceived into prostitution who rises to power as a brothel madam and defender of sex workers’ rights in 1960s Bombay. The source material is a nonfiction account, which portrays Gangubai (a real person) with all her flaws and complexities. Bhansali’s film, on the other hand, takes a dramatic, larger-than-life approach, turning Gangubai into almost a folk hero.
In terms of narrative faithfulness, the film follows the broad outline of Gangubai’s life as described in the book: her being sold to a brothel by a boyfriend, her gradual ascent in the red-light district of Kamathipura, and her advocacy for the dignity of sex workers (including an infamous meeting with Prime Minister Nehru). Those key events are depicted. However, many details and subplots differ or are glossed over:
- The emotional depth and struggle of young Ganga’s early days in the brothel are toned down. The book vividly describes the trauma, abuse, and inner turmoil she faced at first. The film shows the initial horrors (including a distressing scene of the teenage Ganga’s initiation into prostitution, taken directly from the book), but it moves quickly into her fighting spirit. Some of the raw pain and psychological complexity are lost amid the film’s stylish presentation.
- Bhansali’s adaptation whitewashes certain flaws of Gangubai. Historical accounts suggest she had underworld connections and possibly even ordered violent acts (as any “mafia queen” might). In the film, these darker aspects are barely touched. Gangubai is shown indulging in some illegal businesses (like distilling illicit liquor) but is largely portrayed as benevolent and principled, almost a saintly figure who only does what’s necessary to protect her “girls”. Any immoral or ruthless actions are downplayed. This seems a deliberate liberty to ensure the audience roots for the protagonist without hesitation, a common Bollywood trend to have a clear hero(ine).
- The timeline is condensed and simplified. For instance, in the book, Gangu (as she was known) wrestles more with the decision of whether to return to her hometown after being betrayed, even momentarily considering it, which humanizes her doubt. The film quickly has her accept her fate and commit to the brothel life, skipping the nuanced back-and-forth. Her transformation into a bold leader appears a bit faster on screen, helped by a couple of rousing dialogues and cinematic montages.
- Bhansali adds fictional or exaggerated elements for drama: a love interest subplot (with a tailor played by Shantanu Maheshwari) to add romance, and composite characters or events to create dramatic turning points (like a rival brothel madam conflict, etc.). These are not in Zaidi’s factual account but serve to provide a traditional storytelling arc with villains and love angles.
- Some new scenes not from the book effectively highlight themes, for example, an emotional scene where Gangubai helps one of her girls write a letter to family, underscoring the shared heartbreak of the women in the brothel. Another added scene is the death of a close friend of Gangu, which gives her character a personal tragedy to overcome beyond what the book details. These insertions aim to tug at heartstrings and were praised for their impact, even if they are fictional.
The character portrayal of Gangubai in the film versus the book is perhaps the biggest deviation. In the book, Gangu is shown as a shrewd, sometimes ruthless figure, a product of her tough circumstances, who had vices and made morally gray choices. The film’s Gangubai (powerfully played by Alia Bhatt) is depicted as a fiery feminist figure, fighting for justice, with most of her rough edges smoothed out. She is witty, charismatic, and portrayed almost like a symbol of women’s empowerment triumphing over adversity. The decision to make her fair-skinned and always dressed in white adds to a saintly on-screen image (whereas the real Gangubai’s appearance and personality might have been less glamorous). Essentially, Bhansali took a gritty true story and molded it into a mythic tale of a wronged woman rising to power, aligning with Bollywood’s love for heroics and grandeur.
How did this adaptation fare? Gangubai Kathiawadi received a very positive response overall. Critics praised Alia Bhatt’s performance and the film’s visual splendour, though a few noted that it glossed over the darker truths of the real story. Audiences made it a box-office hit, it collected over ₹200 crore worldwide, and was one of 2022’s successful Hindi films. It also gained international attention by premiering at the Berlin Film Festival. The changes, while arguably opportunistic in painting a cleaner narrative, clearly struck a chord.
By amplifying the emotional high points and portraying Gangubai as an almost unequivocal hero, the movie delivered a satisfying, uplifting story. However, when it comes to creativity, one could debate: was Bhansali’s approach a creative interpretation of Gangubai’s story or a shortcut to make her universally palatable? Perhaps it was a bit of both. The film is undeniably engaging and inspirational, but it may not prompt viewers to reflect on the more uncomfortable aspects of the real-life figure’s journey that the book detailed.
Chetan Bhagat Adaptations: From 2 States to Half Girlfriend
Author Chetan Bhagat’s novels have been a favorite source for Bollywood due to their massive popularity with young readers. Two notable adaptations in the past decade were 2 States (2014) and Half Girlfriend (2017). These illustrate how Bollywood navigates the balance between sticking to a blockbuster novel and tweaking it for cinematic appeal.
2 States was a huge commercial success as a film. The novel is a semi-autobiographical romantic comedy about a Punjabi boy and a Tamil girl trying to convince their families to accept their marriage. The 2014 movie, starring Arjun Kapoor and Alia Bhatt, remained quite faithful to the book’s narrative. Most of the witty cultural clashes and family dramas from Bhagat’s story are intact in the film. The screenplay followed the novel’s structure closely, the couple meets in college, falls in love, faces parental opposition due to North-South cultural differences, and eventually unites their families.
The changes were minor and mostly cosmetic: for instance, the time period was updated (the book was set in the 1990s, the film in the 2010s), and some side characters or incidents were trimmed for length. The biggest difference was actually in the ending’s background detail. In the film, everything concludes on a happy note with both sets of parents joyfully attending the wedding. In real life (and implied in the book’s acknowledgments), Chetan Bhagat’s own father did not initially approve of his intercultural marriage and even skipped the wedding ceremony. The film omits this bittersweet reality and goes for a purely feel-good resolution, a creative choice likely made to satisfy the audience’s expectations for a rom-com. Bhagat himself noted that giving the story a completely happy ending on screen was therapeutic, in a way, and helped him reconcile with his father in real life.
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In terms of character portrayal, Arjun and Alia’s versions of Krish and Ananya match their novel counterparts well. Krish is the slightly awkward yet earnest Punjabi boy, and Ananya is the strong-willed, intelligent Tamil girl. The humorous narration from the book is translated into lighthearted scenes and voice-overs. If anything, the film smoothed out a few of the more satirical edges of Bhagat’s writing to keep the tone family-friendly and frothy. Audiences didn’t mind, 2 States earned over ₹100 crore in India (a big number at the time) and was widely enjoyed as a charming, relatable love story. This adaptation shows that a faithful approach can work well, especially when the novel’s content is already cinematic (college romance, culture clash comedy) and the target is a mass audience.
On the other hand, Half Girlfriend (2017) had a more mixed reception. The novel Half Girlfriend is a melodramatic romance about Madhav, a small-town Hindi medium student, and Riya, a rich Delhi girl, and the ups and downs of their relationship, which defies a clear label (hence “half girlfriend”). The film adaptation, directed by Mohit Suri, actually made an effort to improve on the book’s weaknesses. Chetan Bhagat’s original story was often criticized for clichéd elements and a problematic tone towards women. The movie trimmed some excess subplots and significantly toned down the misogyny present in the novel.
For example, in the book, the narrator Madhav sometimes comes off as entitled or overly bitter. The film softens his character into more of a shy, earnest youth who is simply bad at English but has a heart of gold. Arjun Kapoor’s Madhav is depicted as a lovable underdog, whereas book-Madhav had a harsher voice. Similarly, Shraddha Kapoor’s Riya is given a bit more agency and kindness on screen than the somewhat manic-pixie-dream-girl portrayal in the book.
Despite these adjustments, Half Girlfriend still followed the basic plot of the novel pretty closely, including the sequences where Madhav and Riya meet at college, bond over basketball, drift apart, and reunite years later in New York. The adaptation struggled mostly because of the source material’s inherent melodrama. While the film removed a few cringeworthy parts of the novel, it still had an implausible storyline that some viewers found unconvincing. Critics felt that even though the movie attempted to be less “problematic” than the book, it remained a “50-50 affair”, succeeding in capturing the broad romantic arc but failing to bring depth or freshness to it.
The reception was lukewarm: it did moderate business at the box office (fans of the novel turned up, but it wasn’t a blockbuster), and reviews were average. This example shows that being faithful to a book that itself is not critically strong can limit a film, whereas deviating more might have been risky given the built-in fan base. In the end, Half Girlfriend, the movie, tried to have it both ways, mostly sticking to the book so as not to alienate fans, but tweaking the characters’ tone. The result was somewhat safe and unremarkable, suggesting a missed opportunity for bolder creativity.
Other Notable Adaptations and Their Outcomes
Beyond the above cases, there are a few other adaptations worth mentioning to paint a full picture:
Dil Bechara (2020) – This film was a Hindi remake of the international hit novel The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. It starred Sushant Singh Rajput and Sanjana Sanghi as two young adults with serious illnesses who fall in love. Dil Bechara stayed very faithful to the source material’s storyline and emotional beats, simply transplanting the setting to India (the characters become fans of a fictitious Bollywood music composer instead of an author, and they travel to Paris instead of Amsterdam, but those are minor locale changes). The film was released on a streaming platform and became widely watched, especially as it was Sushant’s final film. Viewers found it a sincere and moving adaptation, a case where no drastic creative liberties were needed because the story already resonated universally. This shows Bollywood can deliver a straight-up faithful adaptation of a foreign novel successfully when the content is well-suited to the audience.
Bombay Velvet (2015) – An interesting case of adaptation of a non-fiction book (Mumbai Fables) into a fictional film. Director Anurag Kashyap and writer Gyan Prakash (the book’s author) created an original crime noir story set in 1960s Bombay, using the book’s historical research as a backdrop. Here, the film only took the premise and setting from the book; the plot and characters were largely invented. Despite high artistic ambitions and rich period detail, Bombay Velvet failed to connect with audiences. Critics pointed out that while the film was visually stunning, its story felt generic (“commonplace plot” as some said) and the soul of Mumbai’s vibrant history didn’t fully translate into engaging drama. It bombed at the box office.
This is a cautionary example: even with source material providing a treasure trove of context, an adaptation needs a tight script and relatable characters. Here, arguably, the filmmakers’ creative liberties didn’t gel into a compelling narrative, so it ended up neither a faithful docudrama nor a punchy fiction, but something in between that didn’t work. In adaptation terms, it might be seen as a shortcut gone wrong, having a great concept (Mumbai in its jazz age) but not enough coherence in execution.
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Laal Singh Chaddha (2022) – This film is an authorized Bollywood remake of the Hollywood classic Forrest Gump (which itself was based on Winston Groom’s novel). Although not an adaptation of an Indian book, it’s worth noting as a cross-cultural adaptation. Aamir Khan and team localized Forrest Gump’s story to India’s context, making the protagonist witness key events of Indian history from the 1980s onward. The makers remained quite faithful to the Forrest Gump narrative structure and famous scenes (chocolate box, running spree, etc.), effectively doing a scene-by-scene Indianization. Despite this, Laal Singh Chaddha didn’t meet the success expected; it received mixed reviews and underperformed at the box office.
The reasons were multifold (from stiff comparisons to the original to some audiences’ resistance due to off-screen controversies), but it underscores a point: faithfulness alone doesn’t guarantee success. Adapting a story also means capturing the emotional core for the new audience, and perhaps Laal Singh Chaddha didn’t evoke the same magic in the Indian context despite a conscientious effort. In contrast, a few years earlier, another Indian adaptation of a Western story, The Girl on the Train (Hindi, 2021), also did poorly; it was criticized for being a dull retread of the best-selling thriller without adding anything new.
Each of the above examples teaches a different lesson. Some show that taking a shortcut by leaning on a book’s popularity can backfire if the film doesn’t stand on its own (as arguably with Half Girlfriend or Bombay Velvet). Others demonstrate that with creative storytelling choices, a film can both honor and elevate the source material (as The White Tiger and Raazi did). Now, to synthesize this analysis, let’s directly compare a few key adaptations side-by-side.
Book vs Film: A Comparison Table
Below is a comparison of selected Bollywood adaptations from the last decade. We look at how faithfully each film followed the book, how the characters were portrayed differently (if at all), and how the reception was for both versions:
| Film (Year) & Source Book | Narrative Faithfulness | Character Portrayal | Reception (Book vs Film) |
|---|---|---|---|
| The White Tiger (2021) – based on The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga (2008) | High. The film keeps the novel’s story arc and tone. Some structural tweaks (e.g., starting with a mid-story event) were made for pacing and suspense. Overall, it captures the satirical journey from village poverty to entrepreneurship almost scene-for-scene from the book. | Balram in the film is very much as in the book, cunning, witty, and morally ambiguous. The film visualizes Balram’s inner thoughts well. A few side characters are slightly less detailed than in the novel (due to time constraints), but no major character was fundamentally changed. | Book: Critically acclaimed (Booker Prize winner) and popular internationally. Film: Praised by critics; the author approved of the adaptation’s quality. Got an Oscar nomination for Adapted Screenplay. Widely watched on Netflix, proving successful globally, though some fans felt the book’s dark humor was stronger. |
| Raazi (2018) – based on Calling Sehmat by Harinder S. Sikka (2008) | Moderate. The film follows the book’s main plot (Indian girl spies in Pakistan) but simplifies or alters details for drama. It omits certain subplots (like Sehmat’s college life) and changes the sequence of events to maintain tension (e.g., how she handles suspicion). The essence of the true story remains, but with cinematic polishing. | Sehmat is softened in the film, portrayed as more emotional and initially naïve, unlike the highly trained, unflappable spy in the novel. Her Pakistani husband is shown as more sympathetic in the movie. Supporting figures like her handler have different demeanors (film’s handler is harsher, whereas book’s was gentler). These changes make the protagonist more relatable on screen. | Book: Not widely known until the film’s release; readers found it interesting but somewhat plainly written. Film: Highly acclaimed and a box-office hit (₹207 crore worldwide). Won awards for acting and direction. Many felt the film was an improvement in storytelling, though the author of the book had some reservations about liberties taken. |
| Gangubai Kathiawadi (2022) – based on a chapter from Mafia Queens of Mumbai by S. Hussain Zaidi (2011) | Low to Moderate. The film takes the broad outline of Gangubai’s life but significantly dramatizes events and omits darker aspects. Several incidents are invented or altered to fit a tidy narrative (e.g., the quick acceptance of her fate, added romance, and a celebratory climax). The spirit of her fighting for women’s rights is kept, but much of the gritty reality is sanitized. | Gangubai on film is an idealized version of the real person. Alia Bhatt’s character is fierce yet virtuous, whereas the real Gangubai (as per the book) had flaws and criminal dealings. The film hides her negatives to present a heroic figure. Other characters are similarly simplified into clear good or bad roles (e.g., the villainous pimp, supportive friends), unlike the nuanced depictions in the book’s anecdotal style. | Book: Zaidi’s work is well-regarded for true crime enthusiasts, but Gangubai’s chapter was just one of many stories. It presented a raw, unvarnished look at her life. Film: Very successful, critical praise for its spectacle and acting, and around ₹210 crore gross globally. It became the most-watched Indian film on Netflix after its theatrical run. Some critics noted the loss of depth from book to film, but overall, it was embraced as a powerful, entertaining biopic. |
| 2 States (2014) – based on 2 States by Chetan Bhagat (2009) | High. The movie sticks closely to the novel’s story of a Punjabi-Tamil romance. Most scenes, from college meetings to familial clashes, mirror the book. Only minor changes (updated setting to 2010s, trimming some side anecdotes) and a slightly more positive ending were made. It’s an almost direct translation of the book’s content to the screen. | Krish and Ananya are depicted much as in the book; their cultural backgrounds and personalities match Bhagat’s descriptions. The film even uses voice-over to capture Krish’s humorous first-person narration. The chemistry and conflicts are very much what readers imagined. The happier reconciliation with parents in the film slightly idealizes Krish’s father compared to the book/real life, but core character traits remain. | Book: A bestseller in India, loved for its relatable humor and cultural insight. Film: A big commercial hit (entered the “100 Crore Club” in India). Received decent reviews for being a fun, faithful adaptation. Fans of the book were largely satisfied, and the wider audience enjoyed it as a fresh take on the intercultural romance trope. This was seen as a win-win for fidelity and entertainment. |
| Half Girlfriend (2017) – based on Half Girlfriend by Chetan Bhagat (2014) | Moderate. The film follows the novel’s plot trajectory closely but trims some “fluff”. It also modifies certain scenarios to be less problematic (e.g., toning down how pushy Madhav is). Key story points, basketball bonding, breakups, and final reunion are the same. The narrative flow is essentially the book’s, minus a few coincidences that were too unrealistic even for film. | The filmmakers softened Madhav’s character, making him more innocent and pitiable, whereas the book sometimes painted him in a less flattering light. Riya is portrayed with more empathy, too. These portrayal tweaks aimed to make the characters more likable. However, they remain fundamentally the same people as in the book, with no drastic changes to their fates or relationships. | Book: Another Bhagat bestseller, though it got mixed critical reviews. Fans enjoyed the drama; critics found it stereotypical. Film: Reception was lukewarm. Some readers liked seeing the story on screen, but many critics panned it for a lack of depth. It did average business; not a flop, but not a major hit either. The consensus was that it neither elevated the book’s story nor delivered the freshness one hopes for in cinema, making it easily forgettable. |
(Table key: “High” faithfulness means very close to the book; “Moderate” means some changes but core intact; “Low” means significant liberties taken.)
As seen above, Bollywood adaptations vary widely. In cases like The White Tiger and 2 States, high faithfulness coexisted with positive outcomes, possibly because the source material’s strengths were preserved and translated well. In other cases like Gangubai Kathiawadi, low faithfulness did not hurt the film’s success because the changes made were engaging for viewers (even if historians might raise an eyebrow). And then there are middle-ground cases like Raazi or Half Girlfriend, where moderate changes had mixed receptions depending on execution quality.
Storytelling Choices, Audience Reactions, and Bollywood Creativity
Analyzing these adaptations reveals a lot about Bollywood’s storytelling ethos and the expectations of its audience. A few key observations emerge:
The Appeal of a Ready Story: Adapting a book gives filmmakers a head start, characters, plot, and an existing fan base are already there. In a highly competitive industry, this can seem like a smart shortcut. Films like 2 States or Raazi benefited from the groundwork laid by the books (one in popularity, the other in rich content). The audience, too, is often curious to see beloved books come alive on screen, which guarantees initial interest. For instance, the hype around The White Tiger film was partly because readers worldwide knew the novel and wanted to see how it translates audiovisually.
Need for Localization and Mass Appeal: When adapting, especially in Bollywood, changes are often driven by what filmmakers believe the Indian audience will enjoy or accept. This sometimes means adding a romantic angle, a few songs, or comic relief, even if the original book had none (Bollywood formula elements). It also means making sure the protagonist is sympathetic; hence, rough edges get smoothed (as with Sehmat in Raazi or Gangubai in her biopic). Filmmakers might feel that a morally grey or too complex lead from the book won’t be as “heroic” for cinema-goers. While Indian audiences have grown more open to flawed protagonists in recent years, there is still a strong tradition of rooting for clearly positive heroes/heroines. Thus, adaptation choices often err on the side of simplification and idealization.
Pacing and Structure: Books allow lengthy explorations, but films have limited runtime. Adaptations must tighten narratives, sometimes at the cost of nuance. A novel can wander into subplots and backstories; a movie usually cannot without losing momentum. We saw how Raazi dropped the college chapter entirely to dive straight into the spy mission, or how The White Tiger restructured events for a punchier opening. These choices reflect an understanding that cinema is a different language; what works in text (e.g., detailed internal monologues, slow burns) might need visual or snappier equivalents on film. Good adaptations find creative ways to convey the essence (like Balram’s voice-over letters to the Chinese Premier in The White Tiger, which mimic the book’s narrative device but are trimmed and stylized on screen).
Creative Liberties: Opportunistic or Visionary? When a film diverges a lot from the book, it can be due to a director’s unique vision or, less charitably, due to a desire to ride on the book’s name but tell a more commercially viable tale. Gangubai Kathiawadi’s liberties can be seen in both lights. Bhansali likely believed that amplifying the drama and visuals would do justice to the story in his own style, an artistic choice. At the same time, one could argue that those changes conveniently sidestep contentious or unflattering parts of her life, making the movie more broadly palatable, thus a somewhat opportunistic tactic to ensure success. Yet, those very changes gave the film its emotional resonance and wide appeal. So, the line between creativity and opportunism is blurred. If the end product is compelling and the core message isn’t lost, audiences tend to forgive a lot of deviations. But if the changes dilute what made the original powerful, viewers (and certainly critics) will call it out.
Critical vs Commercial Reception: Interestingly, fidelity to the source does not strictly determine critical acclaim or box office results; other factors like direction, performance, and timing play huge roles. Bombay Velvet was quite original despite being an “adaptation”, and it failed; 3 Idiots (2009, just before our decade) was drastically different from its book (Five Point Someone), yet became an iconic film on its own merits. Meanwhile, the extremely faithful Dil Bechara got a lot of love, though one could attribute some of that to the emotional circumstances of its release. In general, the best-received adaptations seem to be those that strike a balance; they honor the source material’s heart, but also make smart adjustments for the film medium. Audiences appreciate when a film captures the emotion and theme of a book, even if plot points differ. They also enjoy surprises; a too-predictable adaptation that mirrors every page can feel redundant to those who read the book. So successful adapters often keep the soul, change the clothes.
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What Do Adaptations Suggest About Bollywood Creativity? It’s clear that Bollywood is not short on creativity, but it operates within certain commercial constraints. Adapting books is one way to ensure a steady pipeline of stories. However, the process is far from copy-paste; it involves re-imagining prose in a visual, musical, and dramatic form. The creative challenge is arguably as high as writing an original script, because the adapter must satisfy two masters: the original author (and fans) and the new audience. When done well, adaptations can be both creative and successful, as proven by films like Raazi or The White Tiger. These films used the book as a foundation to build something that stands on its own. On the other hand, when adaptations are used as a shortcut in a lazy way (just taking a famous title but not crafting the film thoughtfully), it shows, such projects often feel hollow and fail to impress.
In a broader sense, the trend of adaptations suggests Bollywood is in a phase of experimenting and diversifying content. Filmmakers are willing to base movies on unconventional books (The White Tiger’s dark satire or Mafia Queens’ gritty tales), which, maybe a decade ago, would not have been typical Bollywood fodder. This indicates a growing confidence in storytelling, that Indian audiences are ready for new themes as long as they are presented engagingly. It’s a positive sign of creativity that movies like these are getting made and succeeding. Yet, the industry also likes the safety net of known stories (especially for big investments), so adaptations serve that comfort factor too.
Adapting Books: A Creative Journey or a Convenient Formula?
Bollywood’s recent book-to-film adaptations show a spectrum where some are genuine creative journeys and others lean towards convenient formulas. It isn’t strictly “success or shortcut”; often, an adaptation can be both. A well-made film can ride on a book’s fame (shortcut) and still push creative boundaries in filmmaking. For example, Raazi took a relatively obscure book and made a gripping film that said something new about patriotism and humanity. The White Tiger leveraged a famous novel to shine a light on social issues through cinema, without dumbing it down. These are instances of adaptations enriching Bollywood’s creative landscape.
On the flip side, there are films that use the veneer of a known book but play it too safe or commercial, adding little artistry; those might get initial attention but won’t be remembered as great cinema. The audience today is quick to call out a lack of originality, even in adaptations. Simply having a pre-sold story is not enough; execution is key. Bollywood is learning this lesson, and we see adaptations now handled with more care and innovation than before.
Ultimately, adapting a beloved book is a double-edged sword: it guarantees interest, but it also invites heavy scrutiny. Filmmakers must answer the question, “Did the movie do justice to the book?” A successful adaptation, therefore, is one that can answer yes, either by being faithful and doing justice in a literal sense or by taking creative leaps that still honor the essence of the source. When the answer is yes, audiences are treated to the magic of seeing literature come alive in a new form. When the answer is no, it can feel like a shortcut that misses the soul of the story.
For Bollywood, the best path seems to be respecting the story while embracing the strengths of cinema, visual storytelling, music, star performances, and the power to stir emotions. As the industry continues to adapt novels and biographies, each project will test how well filmmakers juggle fidelity and creativity. If the current decade is any indication, Bollywood is up for the challenge, giving us films that spark conversations about how stories can transform across media. In that process, whether we label each adaptation a “success” or “shortcut”, one thing is certain: the conversation itself reflects a healthy interplay between literature and cinema, pushing both forms to evolve and connect with audiences in new ways.