IT'S FORTUNATE TO BE A CINEMATOGRAPHER

INTERVIEW
SHAMDAT/K B Venu

Shamdat is a self-made man and an unconventional cinematographer. Even while working in big budget South Indian movies he longs to be associated at times with genuine projects of struggling filmmakers. K B Venu met Shamdat while he was shooting Pramani, a star-studded Malayalam movie.

You are known for your experimentations in cinematography and unconventional methods. What motivated you into cinematography?
I started as a still photographer. Many of my photographs got acclaims. My first cinematic venture was a short film called Dominion, in black and white. I was the producer of the film too. I had no plans to assist any one at first, thinking of the uncomfortable situations I might face while working with someone else.
Technical aspects of cinematography can be learnt from books and by watching films. Cinema is something that should exist in us. I thought I could learn it by myself. Later I assisted Ravi K Chandran in some films. The first one was Kandukonden Kandukonden directed by Rajiv Menon. Snip, Dil Chahta Hain, Calcutta Mail, Citizen and Punaradhivasam followed. I stayed with him for one and a half years. Then he told me to be independent. If you continue as an assistant for more than one and a half years you will lose your creativity, he said. I became independent and started with advertisement films. First film was in Telugu, called Premaya Namah. That was a commercial film. Krithyam was my first film in Malayalam. Films like Vargam, Tiger, Smart City, IG, Duplicate and Ritu followed.

Ritu was a different experience.
The director Shyamaprasad gave me full freedom to decide on things. I got the script two months before the shoot. While reading the script I began to formulate an idea of how to treat the subject. The cast was full of new faces and Shyamaprasad used to bring every one of them to the location where I was working for another film. Then I stayed with the actors for a whole week in a rehearsal camp. The basic exercise one should do before starting a movie is to get involved with the story and characters. Camera is an instrument for narrating the story. Cinematographer is the one who views the cinema first. Shyamaprasad provided me with all the facilities to evolve my perspective on the subject. The design of the movie was prepared well in advance. Everything went smooth and natural. We didn’t add any kind of embellishments anywhere in the movie. That is the precise reason why people found
Ritu a refreshing experience. When we work with actors with no prior experience, their comfort must be assured first. We should not put heavy lights in front of them while they face the camera. I also used a method of panning the camera in between two characters while they engaged in a conversation. This was made possible because I knew the story and the characters beforehand. When one person tells something, I can understand at what time the one who listens to him will react.

Shyamaprasad had a clear perception about the film he is making. I worked as an extension of his eyes. When the cinematographer functions as a substitute for the director’s eyes, he must be able to deliver more, even beyond what the director expects. There lies the success of the cinematographer. He must also be aware of the limitations of the technical environment. An able DOP must overcome limitations and produce better results.

The modern generation of filmmakers makes use of the possibility of manipulating visuals on the editing table. A veteran filmmaker recently opined that because of this trend, one cannot asses the real merit of the cinematographer. How do you react to this?

I don’t share this opinion. Cinema is a fast growing medium. It’s true that some such films are also being made. We cannot do anything about that. It all depends on the filmmaker’s choice and taste. There is scope for any number of experiments in filmmaking since technology keeps growing. There are no hard and fast rules on filmmaking. Everyone should have individual opinions on artistic creation. I don’t think such experiments on the editing table will come in the way of assessing a cinematographer. If the DOP is aware well in advance about the kind of film being made, he can even abstain from such projects.


Why did you move away from Malayalam films and settle in Hyderabad doing Telugu movies?
I don’t think budget is a big factor in making quality films. In Malayalam we don’t have good quality films produced without the backing of huge budget. Even if such films happen occasionally, there is no guarantee that I will become part of it. I am not interested in doing films that depend much on camera gimmicks. I keep on watching international movies out of my interest in learning films. Cinema is entering newer realms as time passes. We still follow the worn out gimmicks. I understood that I must go out for better opportunities. I can’t take chances and wait for the rare occasions when a good film comes on my way.

Have you ever tried to compare the quality of movies made in India and outside?

You watch a foreign movie made in the Sixties and a new Malayalam cinema. You will be able to understand our position in technological terms. When we compare our films with their films, we are far below even now. In fact, I am trying to elevate the quality of my work at least to the level they achieved in the Seventies and Eighties. Films made in Hollywood, France and Germany are technically superior. Even in the smaller Arabian countries, technically excellent films are being made. They are dedicated to what they do.
But the most important goal for us is to complete shooting the film in forty-five days. There are producers and filmmakers who do not insist on picture quality because the prints are in UFO and CUBE. But I don’t want to do a film for the output offered by UFO and CUBE.
In your opinion, what is the solution for this sorry state?
We don’t have to spend so much time preparing for a quality film. What we need is meticulous planning. Do the work with a thorough understanding of its true nature.
Ritu is a perfect example for this kind of planning. We completed the shooting the film comfortably within a span of twenty-six days. There were no late night schedules. We used to start shooting at about 6.30 in the morning and continued till 6 pm. Sometimes we worked till 10 pm. Whenever there was lack of light, we simply stopped shooting and took rest. We enjoyed the pleasure of filmmaking. I consider each film crew as a single family. It includes the light boys, crane unit members, technicians, actors and all. A unique relationship develops in between the crew while the shooting is going on. I believe this relationship is the ultimate beauty of cinema. When we begin the next movie, we are entering another family. If a technician fails to make and maintain such relationships, he will be reduced to a mere plastic figure. I believe in maintaining relationships, even when there is no filmmaking going on.


How did your entry into Telugu films happen?
I had produced and directed a short film called Born Again. When I was in Hyderabad, a young cinematographer whom I knew before invited me for the preview of a Telugu movie in which he had worked as DOP. I was not in a mood for watching Telugu movies at that time, but when he insisted I went and saw the movie. That movie, directed by Eleti Chandrasekhar, was an amazing one. I was much impressed by it. I told my friend that I really liked the movie and gave him the DVD of my short film Born Again. Eleti Chandrasekhar happened to watch this DVD and contacted me. I was assigned to do his next film. But I couldn’t do that film because of so many reasons. Then, after doing some more Malayalam films, I went to Chennai and settled there. But I was not doing any films. I was waiting for an opportunity to do a quality project. Then Ravi K Chandran told me that there is no point in waiting for the film of my liking. He asked me to work whichever films offered to me. That was how I did the Telugu film
Avakai Biriyani directed by Anish Kuruvilla. This was in 2008. I keep shooting films from then on.


Tell me about the selection of stock, since you believe more in camera and proper lighting.

In my opinion, all stocks are good. Lighting is the most important factor in cinematography. Quality of the work depends on how we use the material available to us. I cannot recommend a particular stock as superior to others.

You watch a lot of international movies as part of your learning process. Who is your favourite cinematographer?
I appreciate Emmanuel Lubezki who was behind the Hollywood film Sleepy Hollow. There are so many others whom I like. The working pattern of foreign cinematographers is entirely different from that of ours. Now we have some cinematographers in Bollywood and elsewhere who are experimenting on the possibilities of the camera.

How do you evaluate your own work? Are you satisfied with the kind of films you do now?
I am yet to reach that level. I am moving forward to reach there.

You showed me clippings from a movie called One Rupee, which was finished in a shoestring budget. How did you get involved in that movie?

The director of the movie was the third assistant of Chandrasekhar Eleti. He came to me with a short story written by his late father. He wanted to make a movie based on the story. We started working on the film in a simple manner. We went for shooting with just an idea of the particular sequence to be shot on the day. The entire members of the crew used to travel to the shooting location jam-packed in an old van. We became one with the villagers and they helped us a lot. We ate food prepared in houses, bathed in the river and slept on its banks. We all became volunteers while working in that movie. The film belonged to each one of us. You will never obtain that pleasure while working in a professional atmosphere.

You have a lot of original ideas about cinematography and cinema in general. Do you cherish directorial ambitions?
Of course, I will do a film in my life. However, I don’t think I will be able to lead the life of a director till the end. The life of a cinematographer is more satisfying. The advantage is that he can work with different directors; share numerous experiences, listen to various stories and interact with a number of artistes and technicians. Each film is a new experience. It is fortunate to be a cinematographer. I like the life of a cinematographer, which is comfortable and free of tension. I am a person who gets tense easily. I don’t want to take risks. My directorial debut will happen. I don’t know when. For the time being let me enjoy shooting films, understand the characters, laugh and cry with them.

INTERVIEW

VENU ISC /K B Venu

Even as a final year student at the prestigious Film and Television Institute of India, Venu started his career in cinematography by assisting Shaji N Karun in G Aravindan’s film Pokkuveyil in 1981. Two years later, after being part of some very important movies in the eighties, Venu debuted as an independent cameraman in Lenin Rajendran’s off beat film Prem Nazirine Kanmanilla. A cinematographer who combines technical perfection, mastery and speed, Venu has around hundred films to his credit. The directors he has worked with include Mani Kaul, K G George, Bharathan, Padmarajan, Budhadeb Dasgupta, John Abraham, Bikram Singh, T V Chandran, Rajiv Menon and S J Soorya. He did two English movies—And I Have Promises to Keep (Alan Birkinshaw) and Miss Beatty’s Children (Pamela Rooks). Venu won the national and Kerala State awards for best cinematographer three times each. His only directorial venture, Daya, won him both the national and Kerala State awards for best debut director in 1988. After an interval of two years Venu is back in Malayalam film industry with two films-Bhagyadevatha directed by Sathyan Anthikad and To Harihar Nagar by Lal. In this interview, Venu ISC is sharing his views on cinema.

Let us start from your Film Institute days….

I joined the Institute in 1978. Before joining the institute I had no idea about photography. I hadn’t even taken a photograph. Lots of new lessons awaited me there. FTII is in fact a technical institute. And, there you get an opportunity to watch a number of great movies. In Kerala, watching world class movies those days was the privilege of a chosen few. Screening of movies from the Film Archives once in a while was the only way out. The Institute thus opened a door to the world of movies. We also had the opportunity to interact with a number of luminaries in filmdom who regularly visited the campus as guest faculty.

Who were the prominent among them?

Among cinematographers there were Subrato Mithra who was Satyajit Ray’s cameraman, K K Mahajan, R M Rao, Govind Nihalani, and Krzysztof Zanussi.

But what motivated you to join the FTII? What was your background?

I was not interested that much in photography. But I had interest in movies and books. I did my graduation in Chemistry and was waiting for an opening. That is an awkward stage in anybody’s life. I wrote the FTII entrance examination without much hope to get an admission. Those days I thought it a distant and almost impossible dream to study in the Film Institute. Luckily I got an admission. I wouldn’t have appeared for the entrance test for a second time if I had failed in the first chance. It was because of sheer luck that I got the admission. There were three seats reserved for students from Afro-Asian countries. I was third in the waiting list. The three students admitted in the Afro-Asian quota were from Angola and they couldn’t join the course owing to a war that broke out in their country. So, I got admitted to the Institute along with two others.

Apart from the opportunity to watch great movies what was the nature of your course in the institute?

Ours was an integrated course. We were supposed to learn all aspects of moviemaking -direction, cinematography, editing, sound recording and art direction etc. during the first two years. Specialized studies were restricted to the final year. In my opinion that is the perfect method to learn filmmaking. This curriculum helps us when we actually start our professional life. I don’t know why they stopped the integrated course. I did five films during the course including a thirty minutes long feature in 35 mm as diploma film. Each student was supposed to direct a diploma film. Now the cinematography student need not direct a film; he can work as the cameraman in a fellow student’s diploma movie. Likewise, all students can concentrate on their respective areas and complete the course.

When did you start your career as a professional cinematographer?

Director G Aravindan is a relative of mine. I was in my final year at the Institute when Aravindan started his movie Pokkuveyil, for which Shaji N Karun wielded camera. I debuted as an associate cameraman in that movie. After that I went on to assist him for some more films like Manju, Koodevide, Arappatta Kettiya Gramathil, Lekhayude Maranam Oru Flashback, Panchavadippalam etc.

Your first independent work was Prem Nazirine Kanmanilla by Lenin Rajendran…

Yes. Even that was supposed to be done by Shaji N Karun. But he couldn’t do it owing to some reason and I took up the mantle.

What was the character that you tried to impart to your work when you started off as an independent cameraman? Was realism your strong point?

I don’t know for sure. I don’t think it’s realism in particular. Sometimes, we need to break the very concept of realism. Certain phenomena need not be portrayed in films and literature exactly as they appear or happen in real life. It all depends on what the film demands. I have tried all kinds of experiments in my works. I think the cinematographer sometimes should act according to his artistic instincts.

It was John Abraham’s path breaking experimental movie Amma Ariyan that made you very famous…

I had done a dozen movies before Amma Ariyan and received a State award too, for K G George’s film Irakal.

Irakal was a really fantastic work. The night scenes were marvelous.

The director’s briefing sometimes influences the cinematographer to a great extent. I had worked with K G George as Shaji N Karun’s assistant in two films-Lekhayude Maranam Oru Flashback and Panchavadippalam. The first one had a long schedule and I had an opportunity to understand K G George as a filmmaker. He asked me to do Irakal on the basis of this experience. Before we began shooting the film, he told me: What you see in the night should not resemble what you see in daylight. That was enough for me. Some directors are like that. They will impart their concept very quickly to the cinematographer. The cinematographer will realize the director’s requirement all of a sudden. Anyway, K G George’s briefing made all the difference. The movie would have become different had I followed my own ways. The night scenes wouldn’t have become that much notable.

Night scenes dominated day scenes in Irakal. It is a dark film….

May be…There were a lot of night scenes. In many aspects it was a good movie.

That movie flopped in the box office, but those who have seen it had noted its camera work. Was there any specific design you devised for that particular movie?

In the Eighties when this film was made, we had to depend on the limited technology available during the period. So we can’t think much about design and all. But the camera I used for Irakal was the best available at the time. You just mentioned that it was a dark film. In fact the director persuaded me to approach it as a dark film. That is the most important factor. Behind almost all my well appreciated works there was an inspiration- inspiration is a worn out expression-a very subtle and strong briefing by the director. I could carry forward and extend this directive till the end of the movie. That was true with John Abraham’s Amma Ariyan, Bharathan’s Thazhvaram and Prabhu Deva’s Telugu flick Nuvvostanante Nenoddantana.

Your association with P Padmarajan coincides with the golden era of Malayalam movies…

Yes. I have done eight films for Padmarajan. I couldn’t work for two movies because I was abroad.

You have tried to create some fantasy sequences in his swan song, Njan Gandharvan…especially the one in which fireflies surround the heroine…

The credit for that sequence goes to Rajeev Anchal, the art director of the movie. He is a filmmaker now. It’s easier for the director and cinematographer to conceive fantasy sequences; but it is really difficult to execute them. Usually nobody takes up such challenges. Each firefly in the sequence needed one LED bulb each. There should be separate cables for them. If the crew is not cautious, the cables will get entangled. There was always an element of risk. You remember another sequence with butterflies? They were all much lauded by people and technicians alike.

What was the role of the cameraman in creating them?

Of course the camera also had its own role to play. But someone should make such rare objects for me to shoot, right? You can shoot a good script in a bad way, but it’s not easy to shoot a bad script in a fantastic manner. This is true with actors too. The lighting, camera work, art work, editing…all become futile if the actor doesn’t perform well. The cinematographer has the right to demand a better performance from the actor. There are people who object to the DOP’s intervention in the actor’s performance. Such objections come from sheer ignorance.

You have directed a movie. How was the experience? A technician turning to direction…

Daya, my directorial debut was in fact a project of MT Vasudevan Nair. I was its executive director. My responsibility was just to direct the movie. MT was cherishing this project for a long time, and wanted to shoot it outside Kerala since it was based on The Arabian Nights. MT had some health constraints at that time. So I undertook the task. I had the perplexity of a novice while directing Daya. To be on the safer side, I employed the best technicians available at the time. Sunny Joseph was the cameraman.

You didn’t wield the camera? How was that experience?

I faced a problem that all cameramen face if they choose to direct a movie and assign another one to wield the camera. I was used to watching uninterrupted frames through the camera’s eye piece. I felt it disturbing to watch frames from outside, when I started directing. So I used to peep through the camera once in a while to make sure that the frames are composed according to my imagination.

There were no camera monitors at that time…

Yes…that makes a lot of difference….the periods before and after the advent of camera monitors. Those days, the director had to trust the cameraman completely. Nobody really knew what exactly had been shot until it was projected for the first time. The cameraman was the total authority and that was a big responsibility. Now the DOP just need to listen to the director once the shot is taken. If he says OK, it’s okay for me too. I remember my experience with Mani Kaul in the movie Mati Manas. That was my third film as an independent cameraman. Mani Kaul is a director who believes that a camera is enough for making a movie. The shots were all complex and there were only a few artists. Whenever the director asked me whether the shot was okay or not, I was confused. I was a relatively inexperienced new comer and he, a veteran. How can I understand what exactly was in his mind? The director can find out visible errors in the frame when he watches from outside. But he cannot do anything about the subtle problems unless he looks through the camera. Now with the coming of monitors the DOP is relieved of a severe tension during the shoot. Monitors have made life better for cinematographers.

But their supremacy is lost…

Why do cameramen need supremacy? I believe in the totality of a movie. You don’t have to fix responsibilities or count the merits and demerits of various departments of a movie while watching it. It is a futile exercise. I used to be in the award committee of the South India Cinematographers Association once and had the opportunity to watch a lot of Malayalam movies. There were some bad movies. But they contained some finer aspects. Now, we are forced to find out who is responsible for that part. I think this is quite unnecessary while watching a movie. I want to emphasize that actor is the most important factor in any movie. All efforts will be in vain if the performance is not up to the mark.

What about the director?

Director is the most important person. No doubt about that. The director should have the true sense about the movie he is making. He is the one who makes the actor perform well.

Bharathan Padmarajan and K G George….You have worked with these three filmmakers who tried to build a bridge between mainstream and art house movies. And their movies were most expected by the audience those days.

They are all wonderful filmmakers who made really different movies at that time. K G George is technically more perfect in the trio because he has a film school background. Padmarajan’s strong point was his excellent scripts. You just said the audience waited for their films. I remember having seen the very first show of movies on the day of release, with some of these directors; especially with Padmarajan. He used to be tense when the audience didn’t respond properly at certain junctures. I mean, they too had their own worries about how the audience will receive their works. But there was a difference in their approach. They never did movies merely to entertain the audience. They did what they believed was right. And they believed that what they liked will be appreciated by the people. Those directors, who were active in the Eighties, they all did movies according to their convictions, there’s no doubt about that.

About Bharathan, the painter in him….

Painting skills have nothing much to do with filmmaking. It’s just a myth. It’s almost like believing that painters can eventually become art directors in cinema. Bharathan was a painter and that was another reflection of his artistic mind. That is not enough for making films. There are people who say that his frames resembled paintings. Cinema is a different medium. You can make use of your knowledge of painting in cinema; but that alone cannot make you a filmmaker. Bharathan had some other strong qualities as a filmmaker. For example, his selection of locations was perfect. He had the rare ability to create strange spaces. Bharathan’s movies flopped whenever he worked on badly written scripts. He might also have failed to realize that those were weak scripts.

Bharathan could make a stamp on any scripts he worked with. For example, Thazhvaram, written by MT Vasudevan Nair. But Bharathan redefined the typical MT script. Even the location was a character in the movie.

Bharathan and MT found out that location and made a phone call to me. It was in Attappadi, a tribal area in Kerala. MT had tried to create a different atmosphere in the story almost akin to that of the Westerns, the Cowboy movies popular in the Nineteen Forties and Fifties. I tried to create that kind of a visual atmosphere, with extreme long shots and all. Those were the days when back light was profusely used in popular movies. But in this movie, we insisted on natural lights. We wanted to create the real mornings, afternoons and nights.

We were talking about John Abraham’s Amma Ariyan and deviated from the subject..

Amma Ariyan is a unique movie. I have no doubt about that. The way it was conceived, made, screened….everything about the movie is unique. I am proud that I could be part of that film and could shoot it. Amma Ariyan was a one-man show by John Abraham. Only John could complete such a movie in that particular manner. He boldly discarded all conventions in film production. Aravindan’s Pokkuveyil was such a production too. But even that production had an order. John didn’t even follow an order. We both slept in a house belonging to a person in the production team with meager food and all. I didn’t find it strange because I too am an ordinary person. But I don’t know whether I will do another film in such an atmosphere. I did Amma Ariyan because John could convince me about the need to do it. After this movie at least twenty persons have approached me with similar projects, but I couldn’t accept them. Reason is simple. They couldn’t convince me.

How was your experience with Buddhadev Dasgupta?.

When I did Bagh Bahadur, Buddhadev Dasgupta was not very famous, especially in the international scenario. His movies had cleanly orchestrated shots. We did some more films after that…Lal Darja, Swapner Din, Tahader Katha etc. But at the same time I was doing commercial hits in Malayalam, like those comedies directed by Siddique-Lal duo.

Which stock do you prefer?

I have done more than 100 movies. Almost all of them, barring one or two, were shot in Kodak. I insist on it because it is the best available stock, the whole world knows this. Kodak people themselves know that they are the best in the world. Right from the beginning of my career I am used to it. Shaji N Karun with whom I started off as an assistant was using this stock. Kodak is a stock with lot of “patience”…Kodak pardons the cinematographer for his minor faults, to an extent.

Why didn’t you try anything on the directorial side after Daya?

I didn’t make a very earnest effort. Not that I have quit it altogether. Lots of effort should be put in making a movie. It’s not that simple.

CELLULOID IS MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN REALITY

By K B Venu

Amal Neerad carved his niche as a stylish cinematographer and filmmaker armed with his excellent academic background as an alumnus of the Satyajith Ray Film and Television Institute and an unflinching commitment to mainstream cinema. Amal’s diploma film won the national award for best cinematographer in the short feature section. Later he stayed in Berlin for two years as part of an exchange programme and made a short film called Fourth World. Before starting his career as a filmmaker Amal had his stint as cinematographer with the Varma Corporation. Both the Malayalam feature films he directed were commercial hits and had attracted the young audience in the State. Amal was preparing for the shoot of his third feature, Anwar, when K B VENU met him at Kochi.

How did your passion for films begin sprouting?

Right from high school days my dream was to join for direction course at the FTII. The year I graduated from Maharaja’s College, Ernakulam, was a zero year in the FTII. So I started doing my post graduation. Again, the next year also was a zero year in the Institute. At that time, the Satyajit Ray Film and Television Institute had started functioning in Kolkota and I joined its first batch as a student of cinematography.
Why did you join as a student of cinematography?
I had in fact applied for direction course. At that time, the film institutes in the country had insisted that students of cinematography and editing should possess a degree in science. History was my subject for graduation. But science degree was optional according to the SRFTI byelaw. I had a stint as still photographer during my college days and won several accolades in youth festivals for photography. I had some stills with me when I appeared for the interview. The board, comprising of stalwarts of the Satyajith Ray era were impressed by those stills. They advised me to opt for cinematography and I obliged. Perhaps I am the first ever cinematography student in the country without a science degree to study in a national film institute. I had won a national award for best cinematographer for my diploma film, Meena Jha, in the short feature section. At that time, there was a German exchange programme going on. As part of the programme, I went to Berlin along with a direction student in the SRFTI. We spent two years there and did a short film called Fourth World. I wrote the script and wielded camera for the film. It was shot in 35 mm format and was shown in several film festivals across the country.
Why did you go to Bollywood before entering Malayalam industry?
My decision was to work in Malayalam films. In fact I was determined not to migrate to Bollywood. Most of the students passing out from national film institutes chose to work in other languages, especially Bollywood. They went to Mumbai either from Pune or from Kolkota. I had some regional spirits when I passed out from the Institute. I spent two years in Kerala, waiting for chances to work in Malayalam films. Though I had two short films to my credit, one a national award winner and the other made in Berlin, nobody showed any interest in me. Many directors appreciated my show reel but there was no space for me in their films. They said the producers were not interested in experimenting with a new cinematographer. But since I was active in making advertisement films, I had no financial problems. By October 2003, I got a call from a director belonging to the Varma Corporation who had watched my diploma film. I sent him the show reel. Since Ram Gopal Varma was the producer of the film, the next day itself I got the flight ticket. I went to Mumbai and did the film James with them. Then came the Malayalam film Black, directed by Ranjith. I came to Kerala almost like a cinematographer belonging to the Bollywood, did the film and went back. I worked two more films for Varma Corporation-Darna Jaroori Hain and Shiva.
Then came your directorial debut, Big B…
It was because of Mammootty who was doing the lead role in Black that I could do my first film. While I was shooting for Black, I was not aware of the norms of the Malayalam film industry and was not very close to the hero. However, after this film, it was Mammootty himself who expressed willingness to listen to a script if I had one to narrate. At that time Varma Corporation had asked me to direct a film for them. But I chose to work this project with Mammootty because I wanted to do my debut film in that kind of a space. Mammootty is the only star in Malayalam who provides a comfortable working space for a debutant director. The entire crew was fresh hands--the director, scriptwriter, cinematographer, editor, costume designer, poster designer….almost everyone in the technical crew were debutants. We all got this opportunity because Mammootty was willing to work with such a team.
Your films belong to the mainstream category and exhibit off beat trends. What were your influences as a student of cinema?
I used to watch all kinds of movies right from my school days. A mainstream Tamil movie and Antichrist by Lars von Trier can impart equal amount of excitement in me. I was a member of the Cochin film society, which screened a number of classic movies. And, there was a video library called Video House in Ernakulam which had almost all volumes of Bergman, Visconti, Godard and Bunuel. That way I was an avid film watcher right from the VHS era. Even after joining the Institute, I used to go out to the theatres every second or third day though there were regular screening on the campus and the school had a vast video library.
So you do not differentiate between the genres …
I had always tried to escape from being branded as an intellectual filmmaker. That is how mainstream cinema and public usually consider film institute products. That cap will become a handicap when they enter the mainstream industry. I believe in the power and brilliance of mainstream cinema. I will tell you an example. Any other director can plan a different film with the subject of the next film I am making. I mean, the same theme can be converted into an art house type movie. I have seen the kind of crowd in Nandan theatre in Kolkota. I will not be excited if my film is received by that kind of an audience only. I don’t want to entertain those people. I can very well sit with them and talk about great films. I want to be part of popular cinema and communicate to the masses.





What is your new film Anwar all about?

Anwar is different from my previous films. My first two films had their thrust in cinematic elements. They were cinematic from the very first shot. Anwar is going to deal with a more realistic and contemporary issue. At the same time, I have no plan and intention to preach anything to the masses. I want to prove that many “rights” and many “wrongs” exist in our world. The concept of right and wrong is never the same for different people. The main characters in my movie belong to different realities and have separate concepts of truth. Anwar is all about the evolution of these characters. And, I want it to be an absolutely commercial movie.

You are a trained cinematographer. But you employ others to wield camera for your films. Is it because you believe more in donning the mantle of director?

That may be my way of taking vengeance. (Laughs) After coming from SRFTI I had spent two years here with the hope of becoming a cinematographer in Malayalam movies. I have grown up watching excellent cinematographers like Venu and Santhosh Sivan. Cinematographers from Kerala still have that legacy. In Mumbai, Malayali cinematographers have a place of their own. It is almost like bearing an ISI mark. I still remember Bharathan’s Thazhvaram and Padmarajan’s Innale, both cinematographed by Venu, released almost simultaneously in my city. According to me that is the ultimate versatility in cinematography. Those films were different from each other. I do not believe that the cinematographer should have his signature in cinema. That is the reason why I like Innale and Thazhvaram. You will never say that these films were cinematographed by the same person. The cinematographer must behave like a meek and obedient wife who can help in the progress of materializing the director’s vision of the film. A number of film school educated Malayali technicians, mostly cinematographers, go to Bollywood and other filmmaking lands after trying their luck in Malayalam cinema. That had caused deterioration in the quality of cinematography in Malayalam at a particular period. I will be very happy if ten new cinematographers come up in Malayalam because of my films. The historic significance of my first film, Big B, is that it had an altogether fresh crew. Usually when a director makes his debut, the technical crew will consist of experienced hands. But it was the vision of a handful of newcomers that made all the difference in Big B. Like any other part of the country, there are fresh cinematic talents in Kerala too. Given hope, care, space and technical assistance these youngsters too can work as excellently as the technicians we import from other industries providing luxurious facilities. For me, a first time cinematographer who is willing to do anything for his maiden venture is more acceptable than some one who is established in the industry. Even I don’t want to be a professional cinematographer. It is like doing any other ordinary job. Satheesh Kurup, the cinematographer of my new venture, spent an entire month for location hunt. I won’t get a professional cinematographer to do this job for me.


How do you view the advent of state of the art gadgets and devices in cinematography?

I believe in the strength of celluloid despite the advent of digital technology in different formats. My first film was shot in super 16. The next one was shot in Super 35 mm. But in Anwar, I am using a mix of four formats. As for the stock, I have used only Kodak. I am a hundred per cent orthodox Kodak believer right from the film school days. I propose to use their Vision 3 for Anwar. Even for the advertisement films I shoot, I use Kodak. It gives the satisfaction of portraying Indian skin tones to near perfection. I am a cinematographer who insists on printing in Kodak positive itself.
Digital media has many advantages, at least for the budding filmmakers…
I am a celluloid fan. I don’t believe celluloid will lose its supremacy. The beauty of photochemistry will remain forever. However, I have some apprehensions when I scan the present scenario. Most of our theatres have digital projection system now. The “silver screen” has lost the silver in it. Only the screen remains. The spectators no more remember the glow they used to experience on the screen. Nobody realizes the difference. The absolute reproduction of films shot in celluloid doesn’t reach the audience. The advocates of digital format claim of its high resolution. But celluloid has an absolute beauty which is more beautiful than the images we see in real life. There is a comic statement about the difference between pornography and erotica. “Pornography is always frontally lit. Erotica is always backlit.” It’s similar to the difference between sexuality and sensuality. Can any other format achieve the sensuousness of celluloid? I doubt. It is more beautiful than reality. It doesn’t care for achieving clinical precision; but crave for making the hero a super hero. There lies the power of the celluloid.

I WILL REMAIN A STUDENT THROUGHOUT: MJ

M J RADHAKRISHNAN/K B VENU

Starting his career as a still photographer in the Eighties and finding his own unique way into the tinsel world, DOP M J Radhakrishnan, in his career spanning more than two decades, has worked with a number of young filmmakers, mostly in their maiden ventures. He has also worked with renowned filmmaker Adoor Gopalakrishnan in his latest works Naalu Pennungal and Oru Pennum Randaanum. MJ, as he is fondly called by his near and dear, is a self taught cinematographer and a man of few words. He has won the Kerala State Film Award for Best Cameraman four times (Desadanam, Karunam, Adayalangal and Bioscope) and the latest feather in his cap is the South Asian Film Award for the film Bioscope. In this interview, the maverick cinematographer, after completing his latest work Veettilekkulla Vazhi directed by Dr Biju and starring Prithviraj, shares some of his observations on filmmaking.

You have helped out a number of young filmmakers in their debut directorial ventures. Now most of the new generation movies are being made in the digital medium since the cost of production is soaring high. Do you think this will eventually become the order of the day?

The advent of digital filmmaking will definitely help aspiring movie makers in experimenting with the medium. There is a chance that this mode of filmmaking will overpower celluloid in the future. Presently, the projection has almost totally changed into digital medium. But when serious films are being made, directors might prefer celluloid. Celluloid is still my preference. It has not yet been overpowered by the digital medium in terms of visual beauty and quality.
Even after shooting the movie in celluloid it is manipulated on the editing desk with the help of digital technology. Do you think the real merit of the cinematographer is overshadowed by technical manipulation?

There is nothing wrong in manipulating images during the post production stage if the subject demands so. This is an inevitable necessity of changing times. DI can create better colour tones and many other positive results. Technology should always be used in a positive manner. In the latest film I have worked, Veettilekkulla Vazhi, we have used DI. We shot several scenes without artificial light in some regions of Rajasthan and Ladakh. We could make these scenes more beautiful with the help of DI. But the pleasure of shooting, processing and projecting a film in the natural way is unique. Bioscope, a film I shot last year in natural light, was appreciated by the laboratory people in Mumbai. They said it was one of the finest works they had seen in the past fifteen years. There was no need for DI in that film. That was an inspiring experience for me.

How do you rate young directors in Malayalam?
The director’s support is very important for a cinematographer. For example, K M Madhusoodanan who directed Bioscope is an artist. He has his own vision about the frames he wants in his film. That will definitely inspire the cinematographer in experimenting with the camera. In Malayalam cinema, new generation directors with such strong views are rare. Even those who have technical know-how are reluctant to speak out and execute their vision of the movie. Give-and-take- relation should exist between the director and cinematographer. When I did Sammohanam during the early stage of my career, I could learn from its director C P Padmakumar who had genuine and clear ideas about his frames. Though the movie was not a commercial success, I cherish it as a good work.
Do you think debutant and inexperienced filmmakers depend too much on experienced cameramen?
That is quite natural. If the cameraman is new and the director is a veteran it will just be the other way around. Any newcomer will overcome initial diffidence as time passes by.
What about your latest work, Veettilekkulla Vazhi?
Veettilekkulla Vazhi was a good experience. Apart from Karalla we shot in Rajasthan, Ladakh and Delhi. The positive aspect is that I got a Panavision camera to work with. I think this is the first ever film in Malayalam shot entirely using Panavision camera. Ladakh and Rajasthan are places where a photographer can achieve maximum tonal quality. Kerala is dominated by green tones. But in those places we get grey and brown tones in plenty. The sky too is peculiar. It is a pleasure to shoot in places with possibilities for visual experimentation. For me, nature is the main source of inspiration in creative work.
How was your experience of using Panavision camera for the whole movie?
Panavision camera has many technical advantages, including the quality of lenses. It is quite suited for taking hand held shots. In Veettilekkulla Vazhi I have taken some hand held shots. It is not only state-of-the-art equipment that determines the quality of a movie. So many factors should work harmoniously. For example, the shooting must take place in the appropriate time when nature is conducive. Unfortunately that rarely happens.
What about the stock?
While doing Kaliyattom directed by Jayaraj, the art director of the movie portrayed me in a cartoon. In it I was seen carrying a bundle of firewood. Another fellow points his finger at me and describes to his friend: “Look, there goes the cameraman who shoots without lights!” In fact I shot such low budget movies in natural lights because I have absolute faith in Kodak.

You are leading a busy life as cinematographer doing film after film. How do you find this phase of your profession?

I enjoy my career now. Doing a new film means going to new places, meeting different people and interacting with them. Most important is understanding and sharing another person’s thoughts. Cinematography is also about understanding others. The cinematographer’s job is to translate some body else’s thoughts into celluloid frames.


Lavishness and luxury of cinema is a matter of hot discussion in Kerala these days. You are known for your lenience towards low budget movies. How do you view the present state of affairs in Malayalam cinema?

Most of the directors who approach me generally have low budget projects. In such films I do compromises in such a way that it doesn’t affect the quality of my work. I think that is necessary. Otherwise there won’t be good films in Malayalam. It is a fact that a cinematographer will get quality equipment and atmosphere in mainstream projects. But the satisfaction he gets after making a visually rich movie with a shoe string budget is much greater.


It is observed that Malayalam cinema is losing its spirit of experimentation. What do you think is the reason for this deterioration?
Youngsters with a longing for experimentation rarely come forward. Even though some young directors begin their career in a humble manner, they shift themselves to the mainstream and its luxurious style of filmmaking after two films. We have a number of talented cinematographers too. But many of them move to Bollywood and Kollywood because it takes years for them to establish themselves in Malayalam cinema. They can at least enjoy monetary gains in other States even though they don’t get recognized. Here they get neither fame nor money.
Many senior cameramen too work profusely in other languages. Aren’t you working in other languages too?
I did a Hindi film called Ek Alag Mausam by K P Sasi, a Malayalee director. Now I have completed shooting a Tamil film directed by Leena Manimekhalai. It is based on Sri Lankan issues. But I would like to remain in Kerala doing Malayalam films. My roots run deep here.
Any directorial ambitions?
Directing a movie means taking up heavier responsibilities. I haven’t thought of a directorial venture till now. All I want is to be different in each film. I try to experiment with all aspects of cinematography, depending on the mood of each film. I am still in the process of learning my art. And I will remain a student throughout my career.

WHAT THE SUFI SAID

By K B Venu

National award winning director Priyanandanan’s latest flick, Sufi Paranja Katha (What the Sufi Said) is a sharp reply to the anxiety that parents in God’s Own Country underwent in the name of Love Jehad which was partly sponsored and ignited by the over enthusiastic and highly competitive media in the State. The film, based on a novel by the same name by celebrated author K P Ramanunni, puts forward fresh questions that our hypocritically secular social psyche fails, or rather refuses, to address. The cinematic hypothesis Priyanandanan and his crew present include religious, historical, political and sexual issues that continue to haunt Kerala and the rest of the country.
The plot centres around Karthi (Sharbani Mukherjee), heiress of an aristocratic Nair family in Malabar, who elopes with Maamootty (Prakash Bare), a Muslim trader who comes to her ancestral home in connection with his business tour.
Karthi who sends shockwaves through the family with her bold and unnatural behaviour and attitude towards life even from childhood, eventually poses problems in the new surroundings she chooses to live in. Cardinal among the embarrassments Karthi, now rechristened Suhra, causes in Maamootty is her refusal to part with Hindu traditions she had been following. The crisis deepens when she chances upon a sacred temple stone and later an idol of Godess Kali from the courtyard of Maamootty’s house. In a poignant sequence, as Maamootty returns from a business trip with costly gifts, Suhra tells him she lacks something in his home. To his intriguing query Suhra alias, Karthi says she needs the deities whom she used to bear in her soul. She makes it clear that it is not for prayer that she needs them but simply for remembering them.

When Avaru Musliar (brilliantly essayed by Jagathi Sreekumar), head of the local mosque, urges to demolish the temple like structure built by Maamootty in his compound for his spouse to offer prayers, Suhra replies: “Can I forget my mother because I converted religion?” With this question, Priyanandanan is disputing the very foundation of religious fundamentalism (of all sorts) and its resultant follies. Karthy’s question has devastating consequences on Avaru Musliar whose restless inner soul gets entangled in his own past. Musliar becomes a somnambulist and in his hallucinatory night walks through the beach, he assumes the life of Kochunni Thampuran, an upper cast Hindu landlord who is his forefather.
Karthy had earlier embarrassed her maternal uncle Sanku Menon (Thampi Antony) who unconsciously developed incestuous thoughts whenever they both met. Menon who becomes uncontrollably lascivious, later loses his very appetite for sex. Menon, an astrologer, is also torn between the extremes of his own superstitions and the bold denial of religious orthodoxy by his niece.
Karthy’s presence thus has a manifold effect on the men with whom she interacts. The newly sworn in Adhikari (local governor) who barges into Menon’s house is afflicted with small pox when he sees Karthy in the sanctum sanctorum of the family temple. Sanku Menon, after becoming impotent helplessly watches his niece falling in love with Maamootty. On the night Karthy elopes with Maamootty, Menon, almost on the verge of madness, asks his servant to tie him up using a huge iron chain meant for elephants. Avaru Musliar’s plight after being questioned by Karthy is almost similar to that of a castrated person. In one of his soliloquies, Musliar says: “To sustain life I may have to relinquish belief. If I am to stick on to belief, I may have to lose life. I desired both. And, did I get either?”
Finally, unable to bear the radiance of Karthy’s strong will and losing his once boisterous sexual urge, Maamootty resorts to homosexual relationship with a young boy. Karthy’s act of castrating male characters is part of her fight against patriarchal norms.
When the religious fanatics treacherously kill Maamootty, the clairvoyant Karthy leaves her husband’s home, walks to the beach, lures Amir (Maamootty’s gay partner) and walks with him into the depths of the Arabian Sea. Later local people recover her from the sea in the form of the monument of a Beevi, a deity adored fervently by all religions. Thus, Karthy becomes a symbol of religious harmony in a land that once had welcomed and promoted a number of cultures and religions across the world. Karthy first confronts the problems around her courageously and with utmost feminine grace and strength, plunges into the ocean only to emerge as a universally adored goddess. The movie emphasizes the triumph of womanhood or matriarchy over the oppressive patriarchal order. The element of lust brimming up in Karthy is in fact part of Kerala’s fertility cult. Karthy symbolizes the fertile womanhood capable of creating ripples of desire in man and drain his arrogance off only to produce a rich harvest of love. It is through unfathomable love that she regains herself and the malignant society around her. Karthy grows up further to channelise her almost insatiable sexual energy to a greater state of adorable motherhood.
Priyanandanan whose earlier works Neythukaran and Pulijanmam had won national accolades, has proved that he can make films having fabulous visual space with exquisite professional élan. His adroit handling of emotionally charged situations has many examples in the film, including the one in which Karthy and Mamootty make love on the banks of the river. Hats off to director of photography K G Jayan and editor Venugopal for their valuable contributions to the film’s structural beauty.
K P Ramanunni wrote the novel in the politically turbulent post-Babri Masjid demolition era-in 1993 to be exact. His venture can rightly be considered as one of the most powerful intervention of a writer on the dangerously feeble religious scenario of the country. (No wonder the novel was translated into seven other languages including English and French.)
Ponnani, where the main events of the story take place, used to be the hub of religious harmony and Hindu-Muslim camaraderie. But later, after the invasion of Tipu Sultan the religious and cultural equations in the region changed drastically. Priyanandanan cleverly chooses this scenario for his film with a distinct purpose. He wants his audience to know the importance of being aware of their political and cultural history and understand the meaninglessness of nurturing extremely fundamentalist religious sentiments deep inside their mind. That’s why the Sufi tells the story writer towards the end of the movie: “You must listen to stories. Those who do not listen to stories will become meaningless and useless. Those who are meaningless will eventually ruin the land.”

ODE TO THE NEW WAVE

By K B Venu

If the year 1959 was the annus mirabilis for the French New Wave, as film historian David A Cook puts it, the International Film Festival of Kerala (IFFK) this year is celebrating the golden jubilee of the most influential iconoclastic movement in the history of cinema. In this year of wonders three prominent filmmakers of the era came up with their most important works: Jean-Luc Godard (Breathless), Francois Truffaut (400 Blows) and Alain Resnais (Hiroshima, mon amour).
The New Wave (nouvelle vague) was not just an offshoot of the influential French film journal Cahiers du Cinema. The journal, established in the beginning of the fifties by New Wave guru Andre Bazin had a group of young film critics around it. These writers, including Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard, Claude Chabrol, Jacques Rivette, Eric Rohmer and so on, were trained theoretically in the art of filmmaking as they devoured films exhibited in Paris’ Cinematheque Francaise on a regular basis. The far-sighted Henri Langlois, one of the founders of Cinematheque, preserved classics of Griffith and other masters for the post-war generation of French film enthusiasts. Naturally, these cinephiles craved to try their hands on filmmaking; but the French film industry was too hefty for the youngsters to approach. This inaccessibility made them venture into amateur productions.
Unmindful of the conventional and dogmatic principles of filmmaking, pioneers of the nouvelle vague devoted themselves to self-expression. In an earnest effort to create a new language for the cinematic medium, they improvised or rather chanced upon novel ideas. The ‘jump cut’ introduced by Jean-Luc Godard in his first feature length film Breathless (1959) is an example. The film “was at one and the same time a Gangster story and an essay about Gangster films,” observes James Monaco. The protagonist of the movie, Michael Poiccard (Jean-Paul Belmondo) is a great fan of Hollywood cinema. He goes on imitating his matinee idol Humphrey Bogart and lives in a fool’s paradise. Godard pooh-poohs his generation’s craze for Hollywood as his anti-hero is cheated in the end of the movie by his American girlfriend, Patricia. “There was a clear political vision behind all these filmmakers. Their sole aim was to torpedo the conventional thoughts of the old school in filmmaking,” says eminent filmmaker K G George who is an alumni of the FTII in Pune. “The New Wave was in fact a battle between the old and the new in cinema,” says George who believes that the slightly westernized mindset his generation of filmmakers possess owes much to the French New Wave.
Godard’s iconoclastic attitude went on to reflect in his later films, some of which were highly political in nature. His concept of political film was quite different from that of Soviet master Sergei Eisenstein. Godard does not believe in making political films. He believed in making films politically. Thus, he disagrees with Sergei Eisenstein’s belief that “the juxtaposition of opposing forces would create a metaphor for political action.” Godard’s unconventional methods of movie making and utter disregard for the old had irritated his contemporaries including the late Ingmar Bergman. “I've never got anything out of (his) movies,” said the legendary director once. “They have felt constructed, faux intellectual and completely dead. Godard is a f**ing bore.” May be this statement is enough proof for how conventional Bergman was in narrating his movies. Godard, on the other hand, earnestly sticks on to his nouvelle vague slogan that “a story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end... but not necessarily in that order.” The IFFK package of French New Wave has two Godard movies, Pierrot Goes Wild and Alphaville, both made in 1965.
Francois Truffaut who inaugurated the New Wave theoretically in his 1954 Cahiers du Cinema article, A Certain Tendency in French Cinema, continued to remain a towering genius of the movement until his unexpected death in 1984 of brain tumor at the age of 52. The Cahiers du Cinema intellectuals argued against almost all the postulates of the existing schools of thought in filmmaking. They realized the importance of structuring and composition of the movie prior to the process of editing (mise-en-scene). May be that is the reason why many of the New Wave directors went for lengthy shots in their movies. Remember the famous traffic jam sequence in Godard’s 1967 movie Week End.
Truffaut in his Cahiers article argued that the director must be as independent as possible. He should not depend much on the screenplay writer or the editor. He is the author of his film. The director is in fact writing a novel or a story using the movie camera. The auteur theory (director as auteur or author) propounded by Truffaut thus influenced filmmakers all over the world and defined cinema essentially as a medium of personal expression. Truffaut could successfully combine his theoretic knowledge and cinematic sense in his works. The annus mirabilis of New Wave saw the debut of Truffaut as a filmmaker, with his monumental The 400 Blows. American film critic Vincent Canby, in an obituary, described Truffaut as “a quiet revolutionary who worked in conventional modes to make the most unconventional films.” Truffaut’s cinematic expression rose to its zenith when he made Day for Night (1973) a movie about the travails of a filmmaker (played by Truffaut himself) towards the end of which he asks the question: “Is the cinema more important than life?”
“The New Wave was a loosely held assembly of talents with revolutionary ideas. Each director had a distinct cinematic and personal profile,” asserts eminent novelist and scenarist C V Balakrishnan. Almost all movies made in the period are still brand new. The New Wave has not influenced the Indian cinema or Malayalam cinema in particular. We couldn’t venture beyond the limits of Socialist Realism and Neo Realism, observes Balakrishnan. The nouvelle vague was the result of the insatiable love for cinema of a generation of intellectuals who had to struggle against the bigwigs of mainstream cinema. Still they could succeed and become legends. While hosting the nouvelle vague package at IFFK the cinephiles in Kerala too think of the active possibility of another New Wave in Indian cinema. “If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”