Ganguly, the Lord’s Moment and Dusra: A Rights Dispute Beyond Cricket Footage

The hook: an old image, a new commercial value

On July 13, 2026, Sourav Ganguly waved his shirt from the Lord’s balcony. India had beaten England in the NatWest Trophy final; the scorecard records a sporting result, but Ganguly’s image endured far beyond it. Now that moment faces a different test: who may put it on screen, and does permission to use the footage also permit commercial use of the player’s identity?

In the Delhi High Court, Ganguly and Love Films have objected to the alleged use of Ganguly-linked names, images and career moments in the film Dusra. The film’s side says footage from the NatWest final was licensed from the Board of Control for Cricket in India and the England and Wales Cricket Board. Ganguly’s side argues that acquiring match footage and commercially using his identity are separate rights. That distinction turns a debate about an old cricket image into a test of who can commercially exploit sporting memory.

Context: separate layers of rights, from ground to screen

The NatWest final occupies a particular place in Indian cricket memory. But the information available does not support a technical review of the match. Detailed scorecard data, over-by-over progression, pitch, weather, toss and bowling analysis are not supplied. It would therefore be unsound to draw conclusions about batting strategy, captaincy or India’s broader overseas record. The match matters here because one of its images became a recognizable cultural symbol.

At least three commercial layers now sit around that symbol: the broadcast or archival match footage; a player’s name, face, personality and distinctive public identity; and contractual rights granted to make a film about a life or career. Permission for one layer does not automatically license the others.

Love Films says its 2026 agreement granted exclusive rights to create and commercially use audiovisual content about Ganguly’s life and achievements. The authorized biopic has completed filming and is scheduled for release on May 14, 2027. Love Films also says it has invested substantially and that the competing film could affect the biopic’s commercial value. These are claims made by a party, not final judicial findings.

Dusra, by contrast, has been presented as a fictional or inspired story. Ganguly’s lawyers allege that the trailer uses material from his career—reportedly around one-third of it—and could lead viewers to believe he approved or participated in the film. That allegation remains for the court to assess; it should not be reported as established fact.

The core issue: a footage licence is not an identity licence

The real audit in this dispute asks what, precisely, was authorized. Even if permission to use footage was obtained from the BCCI and ECB, that would not by itself resolve the use of Ganguly’s name, image, personality or implied endorsement. Conversely, a claim relating to a player’s identity does not establish ownership of broadcast footage. The boundaries of these rights must be examined separately.

After years of watching cricket and the commercial stories built around it, I have learned that audiences often treat an image as one thing: “the Lord’s moment.” Production and law may divide it into several elements: the broadcast recording, the collective sporting event, the player’s recognizable image and the decision to place that event within a particular narrative. Each element may have a different rights holder or contract behind it.

That is where the commercial value of Ganguly’s image lies. His identity is made up of more than a name: it includes his public image as captain, the context of his career and the Lord’s balcony scene. Using that identity in promotion can make a film instantly recognizable to viewers. But recognition and unlawful use are not the same thing. The court may need to consider the extent of the use, its context, its narrative importance and its likely effect on audiences.

According to the available account, the court declined to stop the film immediately before release and instead imposed interim safeguards. The film was allowed to continue subject to a ₹20 million bank guarantee and disclaimers in Hindi and English. The court also considered the relevance of time-coded scene lists and the authorized biopic’s screenplay. This suggests that the assessment may depend not merely on whether footage appears, but on its duration, placement and role in the story.

I followed the deadline arithmetic until the release date began to explain the case. A request to stop a film one day before theatrical release puts both potential rights-related harm and the practical disruption of halting a completed release before the court. The bank guarantee and disclaimers are temporary safeguards. They are not a final ruling that Dusra infringed Ganguly’s rights. Equally, allowing the film to continue does not mean Ganguly’s claims have been rejected.

Ganguly’s concerns also relate to the authorized biopic’s exclusivity. If another film makes the same recognizable career moments central to its promotion, audiences may struggle to distinguish an authorized account from a fictional one. On the other hand, reference to a historical sporting event does not automatically amount to taking over a person’s entire biography. The boundary may depend on whether a film is referring to a public event or making the person’s identity the principal commercial attraction.

Calling this simply a “fight between two films” makes an easy headline, but the legal questions are narrower and more concrete: beyond footage permission, were separate rights obtained for the name, image, narrative and possible endorsement? Does the contractual exclusivity extend to fictional portrayals of this kind? And is a disclaimer enough to correct potential audience confusion? The interim conditions do not answer those questions.

The counterpoint: declaring a winner now would be premature

The dominant narrative may cast this as a fight to protect Ganguly’s identity and stop an unauthorized film. The concern is real: a famous player’s image can draw audiences even if the player has no connection with the film. Yet the court allowed the film to proceed subject to a bank guarantee and bilingual disclaimers. There is no final judgment. Calling the interim order either a victory for Ganguly or legal approval for the filmmakers would overstate what it says.

There is another side. If every familiar historical image is treated as placing all uses connected to the player under a single ownership claim, it becomes difficult to define the space available to films and documentaries based on public sporting memory. But if a producer can obtain a footage licence and then build promotion around the player’s unmistakable identity and famous moment, protection of personal identity may be weakened. The court must draw a line between those risks, and no slogan can do that work.

For the sports industry, the practical lesson is already clear: before production begins, rights to footage, names, likenesses, biographical material and possible endorsement should be recorded separately. Time-coded review and a check of promotional material can reduce uncertainty for producers, players and investors if done early rather than in the final week. Treating one permission as a substitute for every other right may look convenient on paper; near release, that convenience becomes a risk.

The next move

The Lord’s image belongs to the story of the 2026 final, but its present value is being tested beyond that day’s score. Attention now turns to the final judgment, further orders on the ₹20 million bank guarantee, compliance with the disclaimer and promotion of the authorized biopic planned for 2027. Every deadline and every permission leaves a footprint in the next release window. The court’s decision may clarify where historical footage rights end and a player’s identity rights begin—and which document India’s sports-film industry must read before the next camera starts rolling.