September 18, 2023
We have an hour to talk to one of India’s finest filmmakers. His films have been seen, admired, discussed and dissected for nearly five decades since 1977. During this period he has made just 18 films and each one has been masterfully crafted with the same care. Despite the fact that his last publicly released film was over 11 years ago, discerning viewers are expectantly hoping for yet another classic from him.
Girish Kasaravalli welcomes us into his home and settles down to answer our questions in his calm and unassuming manner. At the end of the hour of what can be termed as a masterclass in film making, the heavens have opened up outside and the rain is clattering noisily on the tiled roof, drowning all conversation. He graciously fetches an umbrella and walks outside with us to ensure we are as dry as possible.
Still engrossed in the storm of insightful responses and enthralling memories swirling inside our mind, we hardly notice the storm raging outside.
![[Laughs] You are starting with the wrong question. Now, it has become difficult to produce the kind of films I have been making. Producers still come to me but these types of films are not being released in theatres now, OTT (in Kannada) is not picking up and Doordarshan is not focused on movies. You would need at least ₹60 or ₹70 lakhs to make a film and the only financial incentive is from the State Government which is just ₹15 lakhs. So, I don't want anyone to lose money on my film. Fortunately, barring the latest one (‘'Illiralare Allige Hogalare" which has not been released), none of my films have lost money. Even if they have not made huge profits, they have recovered their investments. It seems like there is no light at the end of the tunnel. So, my previous film could be my last one.](https://bengaluru.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Simple-Mic-icon-70x70.png "Let us start with a question about the future. Many people are curious about what can we expect next from you?"){kind=icon}
Let us start with a question about the future. Many people are curious about what can we expect next from you?
[Laughs] You are starting with the wrong question. Now, it has become difficult to produce the kind of films I have been making. Producers still come to me but these types of films are not being released in theatres now, OTT (in Kannada) is not picking up and Doordarshan is not focused on movies. You would need at least ₹60 or ₹70 lakhs to make a film and the only financial incentive is from the State Government which is just ₹15 lakhs.
So, I don’t want anyone to lose money on my film. Fortunately, barring the latest one (‘‘Illiralare Allige Hogalare” which has not been released), none of my films have lost money. Even if they have not made huge profits, they have recovered their investments. It seems like there is no light at the end of the tunnel. So, my previous film could be my last one.
Your last film ‘Illiralare Allige Hogalare' (''Can Neither Stay Here, Nor Go There") in 2021. It was shown in some film festivals but it was not released elsewhere. Any plans of releasing it for general viewing?
It is a 2019 film and not 2021. Soon after the film was made, within a few weeks the COVID lockdown was announced. Later it was sent to about four festivals and in three of them it won awards. After that, the producer became busy with other projects. He was involved in building a hospital and concentrating more on that project. The issue with films is that once the film is completed, it becomes the producer’s property and responsibility. I don’t want to interfere in that or take that burden of marketing the film.
What kind of producers approach you? Why do they come to you?
Many of the producers who approached me did so because my films usually won some awards. They were not interested in awards at Cannes or other festivals abroad. If the film won the National award, they would have an opportunity to receive it from the President of India and then proudly display the photograph. I was aware of this motive but it also enabled me to make films I wanted to [laughs]
As producers do they step into the creative process or do you draw the line on that?
Actually that way I have been very, very lucky. My last four films were produced by the same person, who is an industrialist and hotelier by profession. He would meet me sometime around the month of April and ask me if I had any thoughts of making any film. If I said yes, he would arrange for the money and not bother me after that. Once the film was completed, we would call and inform him that it was ready. He never questioned the story or the stars and that kind of freedom gave me a lot of strength. I made a very unconventional film called Kanasemba Kudureyaneri. He was not perturbed and just said if you have faith in the story go ahead.
You have been making films for about five decades. When you look back from the days of FTII to your latest film, how has your work or film making evolved over time? Do you have creative satisfaction with what you set out to achieve?
That is a difficult question to answer. Whether a film is a success or failure all depends on the reference point. I set a high reference point for myself. My references were all great masters, so I cannot say I have reached that point at all. But within my capacity I can say that I have made a few films that will stand the test of time at least for another 30 or 40 years.
“It seems like there is no light at the end of the tunnel. So, my previous film could be my last one.”
Girish Kasaravalli, Image © P L Tandon
Creativity, visualisation are natural and come from within a person but techniques are scientific and can be taught in a classroom. You went to FTII and have also taught in a film school. Do you feel film schools are essential for a filmmaker? How important is it for a filmmaker to go to these schools and what value does it add?
When I joined FTII it was very essential because outside of FTII it was impossible to see the classic films. I had not heard of filmmakers like (Luis) Bunuel or (Jean-Luc) Godard. I knew of only some important films made in Kannada or Hindi. We had heard about Satyajit Ray but never had an opportunity to watch any of his films. Even Ritwik Ghatak or Mrinal Sen were unknown to us. A film school like FTII was very important in shaping my aptitude for cinema and my understanding of the world around me. So, it was very essential during the 1970s. But today you can watch classics anywhere like on YouTube, so it is not difficult. But there are two points I would like to make. Today all classics are available but people are more interested in the technical aspect of the films than the creative aspect. They don’t think in terms of the content, the idea, ideation or the strength of the film. Everyone just talks about how the shot was conceived. Technique is not cinema. Technique alone cannot make cinema, just as story alone cannot make cinema. Cinema is very complex and you need to know both sides.
In the 1970s, there were filmmakers who started as assistant directors, climbed up the ladder, learned the tricks of the trade and then became directors themselves. The difference between a man who came up this way and a man trained in a film school is that in the school they teach about the philosophy of cinema.
You have made feature films, documentary biographies and television serials. Do you change your approach to each of these media?
They say television serials are a medium of closeups and words play an important role. I never bothered to go by that dictum. What applies to cinema should apply to television as much. Only difference is that the image size is smaller. But if the image size is smaller, the viewer will be closer to the screen. In a movie theatre the image is big but the audience is also relatively far away. So, the perceptual capacity of the viewer remains the same. We are talking about the physical aspect of the image but the physical aspect is not the one that decides the impact. The distance and angle is not important but how you get hooked to the image is what is important. When I was making Gruhabhanga I was told not to go for long shots or use silent shots. I did not avoid them and it still worked nicely. The grammar of the visual does not change or the grammar of the film does not change.
Regarding documentaries, I am basically not a documentary filmmaker but I made a few biopics because I was approached to make them. When I made the one on Adoor Gopalakrishnan, UR Ananthamurthy or the third one on Pandit Venkatesh Kumar my approach was purely conventional where you ask the subject questions, seek answers and from that you build a narrative.
Women playing key roles in your films is a well known fact. They are also strong characters in many of your films (Aakramana, Dweepa, Hasina, Gulabi, Nayi Neralu). Was this a conscious choice?
Not really. I was not aware of that when I was making the films. My career started with Ghatashraddha where a woman Yamuna is the central character but she is not a strong woman. Later on the story and content demanded stronger women and I went by that. There was no design as such. Four of my films were produced by the artists (the female leads) themselves. While casting them I was concentrating more on the theme which invariably centered around them. My films like Tabarana Kathe, Koormavatara, Bannada Vesha, Kanasemba Kudureyaneri and Kraurya are not women-centric at all. For example, Tabarana Kathe is as popular as any of my other films.
Your stories depict conflict between tradition and change. disparity, discrimination or inequality (social or gender or caste or urban/rural). Even though the protagonists are strong characters, they often end up only with moral victories.
I don’t want to talk about people who are very successful in life. There are many other people who don’t come to our attention because they are not in the limelight. So I concentrate on such people. Nagi, Yamunakka and Hasina are such characters. It may be a cliched statement but I make an attempt to give voice to the voiceless in all my films. Here are the people whose agonies are not in the foreground of mainstream cinema or mainstream media. At the same time, I don’t want to talk about underprivileged people for the sake of it nor depict them in the conventional way. For example, the grave digger Irya in Kanasemba Kudureyaneri is not a pathetic figure at all. He is full of confidence and self dignity which is the case even with Hasina or Venkatalakshmi. I don’t want to get into that kind of simplistic patronising tone or painting them as helpless people. They are not helpless but it is the society that is making them victims.
You have stated that Ananthamurthy’s thoughts inspired many of your films. Can you elaborate on this?
Ananthamurthy has written about various issues, not just those of political or social significance. His work makes the reader internalise and ponder over it. He does not say what is right or wrong. One of the terms he often used is problematise. He would say you should problematise everything, even the right answers. Even if there is a right answer there is always a but. For example when Nazir Sab started digging borewells for the water problem people called him Neer Sab. It had a major impact on the water problem in Karnataka. But, what happened after about 10 years? The water table went down. Nehru said dams are the nation’s modern temples. But now we are seeing problems in Punjab where water is saline and unfit for cultivation (Unravelling Bhakra: Assessing the Temple of Resurgent India, Report of a Study by Manthan Adhyayan Kendra).
Ananthamurthy not only brought a new perspective of looking at various issues but he also forced you to question the final answer. When you read it you may or may not like it, but you start questioning the answer.
Literature and films have had a strong connection over the years. Good literature seems to be on a downward trend. Films are not based on literature as much. Is this a loss for the viewer?
A good film need not be based on good literature. Conversely, good literature is not the only source for a good film. In fact, there is no assurance that a good book will make a good film. If it were that simple all of Tolstoy or Dostoyevsky or Dickens works would have been made into classic films. Minor works of fiction can also turn out to be a good film. Take for example Mephisto, a 1981 political drama film co-written and directed by István Szabó, is based on the novel of the same title by Klaus Mann. It was written by a man who was in a Nazi camp as just a collection of his personal experiences but turned out to be a great film. On the other hand War and Peace adapted from Leo Tolstoy’s 1869 novel or Kanooru Heggadithi based on the 1936 novel Kanooru Subbamma Heggadathi by Kannada writer Kuvempu turned out to be unsuitable material for a film. Each does not reflect on the other.
Interview continues on Page 2
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