After decades of decline, Bangladesh’s film industry is now in freefall
Bangladesh’s film industry has been shrinking for two decades. But collapsing investment, political uncertainty and vanishing cinemas during the past year has turned a slow decline into a full-blown crisis
For decades, Bangladesh's film industry — with all its flaws and brilliance — offered this steady pulse. It was once a rhythm that shaped thousands of lives across Dhaka and beyond. Studio lights warming up at dawn. Crew members rushing across sets. Make-up boxes opening with their familiar click. But today, for many who built their lives around it, that pulse feels dangerously faint.
The signs of decline have been around for years — shrinking budgets, fewer productions, ageing infrastructure and a slow erosion of the ecosystem that once held the industry together.
However, the decline did not start with today's political uncertainty, nor with the critical time during the past year. It began long before, in quiet ways that accumulated over time. Yet the past year has accelerated everything, turning a long, grinding struggle into a full-blown crisis. What was once an industry fighting to survive is now one gasping for breath — and the people who depended on it are feeling the collapse most acutely.
A fall decades in the making
In the 1990s, Bangladesh had nearly 1,500 cinema halls, a thriving network that brought films into small towns and rural centres. Going to the cinema was a routine, an outing, a shared joy. But over the last two decades, that heartbeat has weakened. Today, only about 50 to 60 cinema halls remain open throughout the year.
After analysing year-on-year film release data from 2005 to 2023 from the Bangladesh Film Development Corporation (BFDC) and cross-referencing it with periods of political instability, The Business Standard finds a clear pattern.
Bangladesh's political landscape over the past two decades helps explain some of the industry's steepest declines. Between 2005 and 2008, the country experienced a severe political crisis, culminating in a military-backed caretaker government under emergency rule. Film releases dropped sharply, from 100 in 2005 to just 64 in 2008. Uncertainty, restricted public life and economic hesitation made investors wary, slowing production dramatically. Even after civilian rule returned in 2009, momentum failed to recover, as lingering instability and cautious investors kept annual releases low through 2012.
The year 2013 marked a particularly turbulent moment. National protests, including the Shahbagh Movement, and divisive political mobilisations created a tense public atmosphere. Film releases plunged to 23 — the lowest in nearly a decade — showing how social and political unrest can directly disrupt cultural production. Although 2014 saw a slight rise to 39 releases, the year was dominated by a national election marred by violence and boycotts, illustrating how political events can both hinder and, at times, concentrate production cycles depending on timing and market perception.
From 2015 to 2018, the industry plateaued at a low level, fluctuating between 23 and 33 releases per year. This period coincided with a crackdown on political dissent ahead of the 2018 general election, creating a tense climate that again made investors cautious. The all-time low of 11 films in 2019 reflects not only structural problems — including the decline of cinema halls, weak scripts and reliance on scattered private funding — but also political fatigue after successive periods of unrest.
Finally, the Covid-19 pandemic added a new layer of disruption. In 2020 and 2021, film releases remained critically low at 14 and 13, as production halted, cinemas closed and investors froze activity. A modest recovery to 26 in 2022 and 22 in 2023 shows that the industry has not yet regained its footing.
Across nearly two decades, it can be seen that election violence and social unrest consistently coincide with the steepest drops in production — layered on top of long-standing structural weaknesses and, more recently, pandemic-related disruptions.
As Bangladesh now undergoes a period of political transition with general elections on the horizon, historical experience suggests the film industry could continue to struggle.
A worse year was waiting
Then came the last twelve months. What was a slow decline turned into freefall.
Directors, actors, make-up artists, cinematographers—all speak of empty calendars, stalled projects, and an industry frozen in place.
Giasuddin Selim, a renowned filmmaker, captures the situation bluntly. "Compared to the past few years, investment has definitely decreased. Almost everyone shares the same frustration now. It feels like 70–80% of people are spending long stretches without work."
For filmmakers, the reasons are layered. Years of structural decline, followed by a turbulent political period, have pushed the already fragile industry into despair.
"No one is willing to invest like before," Selim explains. "Some productions are still happening, but the market has become far more volatile. Even when we go for outdoor shoots, there is a constant fear that a crowd might gather and create chaos."
Actor and Actresses, especially mid-level and emerging ones, say their lives have become unrecognisable.
Sharif Shiraj, a film actor, describes the past year as "the ground slipping beneath us."
"For the last seven to eight months, the work has almost dried up," he said. "I was close to confirming three films — everything was ready — then the investors backed out one after another."
He mentioned "angel donors" — small investors who quietly support productions out of passion. "They don't put in huge money, but they keep the wheels turning. Now even they are struggling. Their businesses are suffering. Their confidence is shaken."
While actors and directors face uncertainty, it is the people behind the scenes — the make-up artists, gaffers, light technicians, costume assistants — who feel the crisis in their daily survival.
Faruk Hossain, a make-up artist for nearly a decade, speaks with quiet exhaustion.
"One year ago, I used to work 20–25 days a month. Now, when I wake up and check my calendar, I have less than half as much work as before. Even my make-up box, which used to feel like part of my day, now just sits there.
A market shrinking from all sides
One of the most dramatic shifts has come from the sudden drying up of informal investment.
For years, a large part of the industry survived on unregulated money — business owners, political patrons, private donors. Fragile but essential.
Shah Newaz Khan Cju, an international award winning filmmaker and an organiser of the Film Reform Roadmap 2024 (FRR), explains the new reality.
"Previously, significant amounts of money came in through black money. After the shift in power, that source disappeared. A large part of the industry was aligned with certain political groups. After the government changed, that major funding also moved away."
What remains is thin: a few government promotional projects, small grants, and scattered commercial attempts.
Last September, around 100 filmmakers and film institution representatives gathered in Dhaka for the FRR discussion. They proposed 24 demands to revive the industry, including repealing restrictive laws, creating an independent film commission, completing Kabirpur Film City, modernising FDC, and reforming film financing and education. "Although the proposals are expected to be refined through further consultations there are no visible developments in the industry happening." Cju said.
Meanwhile, multiplexes rely more on foreign releases to survive. Local films, once a weekly norm, have become rare. Production houses — the backbone of any film industry — have almost vanished. Without a studio system or a reliable distribution network, films depend entirely on scattered individual passion.
Technicians who once worked on dozens of films a year now struggle to find five.
"Since the interim government took office, it seems they have shown very little interest in the film industry. Whether the sector survives or collapses, it does not seem to matter to them. We tried several times to meet the advisers, but we never got an appointment," a senior staff member of the recently closed Madhuban Cineplex and a former member of the Bangladesh Film Exhibitors Association (BFEA) told TBS on condition of anonymity.
"Even when someone from our film industry is part of the advisory council, we did not expect that no progress would be made. First came the blow of Covid, and then political unrest and a deteriorating law-and-order situation. Producers are now simply waiting for the election and for stability to return."
"Cinema is slowly heading towards extinction," said Mia Alauddin, Vice President of the BFEA, with a faint, uneasy smile.
"Cinema halls have been shutting down for a long time. This year a few local films have been released. The figure has been declining year after year. And in the current situation, no one has the courage to invest in films. The risk of loss is high from every angle."
