Roi Roi Binale Exposes Cultural Crisis: Assam Wants to Watch, But Who Killed the Cinema Halls?

Assam is preparing to witness one of the most emotional moments in its cultural history—the release of Zubeen Garg’s final cinematic dream, Roi Roi Binale, on October 31. But as the state mourns and celebrates a legend, another harsh truth has surfaced—a large part of Assam has been silently denied cinema.

Because today, outside Guwahati and a few major towns like Jorhat, Dibrugarh and Silchar, people simply do not have cinema halls anymore. Not because they don’t want to watch films—but because infrastructure has been allowed to decay. Because policy has ignored culture. Because the government looked away while private owners gave up.

Roi Roi Binale has done something no politician, no policy, and no industry body managed to do in the last few decades—it woke Assam up to the death of cinema culture outside cities.

A Film Born of Dreams, Now Caught in a Broken System

This film was Zubeen’s personal creation—his long-time vision, planned nearly 15–20 years ago as confirmed by his wife Garima Saikia Garg. The post-production team in Mumbai, led by acclaimed sound engineers Amrit Pritam and Debajit Changmai, is racing against time to complete the audio mastering.

But while the production team is working day and night, lakhs of Zubeen’s fans across Dergaon, Demow, Bokakhat, Jagun, Dhakuakhana, Mariani, Raha, Mazbat and many other towns don’t have a basic answer:

Where will they watch the film?

Dergaon: 30 Years Without a Screen

Dergaon once had Gauri Cinema Hall. Built in 1955, it once hosted packed shows. Today it stands as a crumbling ruin overgrown with weeds—and with it, the people of Dergaon lost the right to watch cinema without travelling hours.

Speaking to Pratidin Time, a local resident asked a simple question:

“Cinema is for people. But people here have been cut off from cinema for 30 years. Government talks about preserving Assamese culture. Then why are we forced to travel to Jorhat or Golaghat to watch our own films?”

Another resident added:

“Assamese films are releasing, Assamese cinema is rising again—but what about us? We have to burn petrol, waste hours to travel to another district just to watch a film. Is culture only for cities?”

Demow: When Memories Rot With Walls

In Demow, the story is the same and perhaps even more tragic. Parijat Cinema Hall, once one of Upper Assam’s finest theatres, lies abandoned—silent, broken, swallowed by wild growth. Built in 1985 with a 70mm screen and advanced sound system of that time, Parijat Cinema was once a pride of Upper Assam.

But today, it is a monument of neglect.

A former audience member said:

“It’s not just a cinema hall that died here. A social space died. People met here, laughed here, lived here—even fell in love here. Now our children don’t even know what a cinema hall looks like.”

Meanwhile, the Assam Government continues to host cultural festivals, talk about investment in Assamese films, and publish grand cultural policies. But what is the use of making films if people have nowhere to watch them?

And Then Came Jagiroad—A Town That Refused to Give Up

In Jagiroad, something powerful happened. Fans didn’t complain—they acted. The Zubeen Fan Club of Jagiroad launched a massive poster campaign for Roi Roi Binale. They sang Zubeen’s classics on the streets. They united people.

And then something even bigger followed—
Ganesh Talkies of Jagiroad, closed for seven years, is reopening just to screen Roi Roi Binale.

Why did it reopen? Not because of policy. Not because of corporate help. It reopened because people demanded it.

A local resident said:

“Zubeen da brought people together again. We lost cinema, but he gave us reason to revive it.”

The Real Problem: Assam Didn’t Lose Viewers—It Lost Vision

The decline of single-screen theatres isn't just business failure—it is a failure of cultural policy.

• Assam never had a cinema hall revival policy

• No subsidies for renovating single-screens

• No incentive for rural or semi-urban theatres

• No support for digital conversion

• No cinema grant under cultural budgets

Result? Theatres died one by one. And now, when Assamese cinema is finally regaining life, Assam has nowhere to show it.

This is more than a problem—it is a crisis. Because a film industry cannot exist without screens. And if Assam wants to build a cinema ecosystem, reviving single-screen theatres must be a cultural priority.

Time for the Government to Answer

If Assam can build stadiums in sub-divisions, MLA offices in every constituency, and roads in remote areas—why can’t it build at least one cinema hall per sub-division?

If Assam can spend crores on one cultural festival, why can’t it spend lakhs to renovate abandoned halls?

If Assam wants to preserve Assamese language, art and culture—why is cinema, which carries all three, being ignored?

Zubeen’s Last Film Has Exposed the Truth

Roi Roi Binale has not just revived emotions—it has shown us a mirror. It forced Assam to see how badly cinema infrastructure has collapsed. It proved that people still love cinema. People still want to watch Assamese films. The audience is alive. It is the system that is dead.

The reopening of Ganesh Talkies is not a film promotion story—it is a cinematic uprising. It shows what people can do. But it also reminds us that people shouldn’t have to fight this hard just to watch a film.

Rebuild the Screens, Rebuild Assam’s Cultural Soul

If the Assam Government truly cares about culture, now is the moment to act—not with a tweet, not with a speech, but with a Cinema Revival Policy.

• Reopen abandoned halls through Public-Private Partnership (PPP) model

• Subsidise digital projection in small towns

• Give tax breaks for reopening cinema halls

• Introduce district-level mini theatres

• Make cinema part of cultural infrastructure

Because cinema is not entertainment alone—it is voice, memory, emotion, identity. And if Assam lets its cinema halls die, it will lose something far greater than buildings—it will lose its cultural heartbeat.

Roi Roi Binale is not just a film. It is a reminder that Assam still has stories to tell—if only we give people a place to watch them.

Also Read: Roi Roi Binale : Release Date, Cast, and Historic Booking Response