Even while living in London, you have kept your umbilical cord with India uncut by choosing to work with Indian cinema. Was it a conscious effort?Most immigrants settled abroad, whether from India or any other country, are connected to their homeland through food, religious practice and language — it isn’t surprising that such a connection is there and unchanging. We might live 500 years abroad but we’re not white. We will always be asked: “Where are you from — originally?”
Like many others, I grew up watching films, and Indian films too. I wanted to work in cinema so combining the idea of home with a leaning to study and become a practitioner in films was exciting.
While filming, what is your perspective – of an NRI/outsider or someone closer home who is trying hard to give a piece of home to a whole lot of them?
Believe me when I started in 1978, Hindi films were not considered “cool” at all. The whole story changed in the early 1990s; I think through the popularity of film music and the arrival of the Khans — young people began to think of Indian cinema as something they were proud of. Before that, many middle class families looked down on Hindi films.
Once you know a subject well, you become an insider; at least you hope to be be considered as such. Outsiders usually study a subject in greater detail because they don’t take anything for granted as an insider might. I have been working on Hindi cinema for 32 years, starting in the late 1970s — organised huge Indian film festivals in Paris, programmed (and still do) Indian films on British TV, made over 80 documentaries and written nine books on the subject — so I hope the question of insider/outsider doesn’t arise anymore. The most important thing for me is having had the privilege of meeting so many wonderful people working in Indian films.
Your affinity to a certain era of Hindi cinema is apparent. Does that mean you believe that the quality of today’s cinema has gone down so much so that it is not worth studying or documenting?
You can’t study every period if you study cinema seriously. You just don’t have the time to go so deeply. If you do everything, you’d be a generalist and I prefer specialising. I really like the 1950s, and actually if I know anyone’s work really well it is only Guru Dutt. I’ve spent over ten years researching his life. It involved talking to people who knew him and thinking about his work and his approach to cinema. I am still learning about the 1950s.
Every period has their history-makers. And some top names today will impact the future. It’s not only the past that endures the test of time; each generation has a place in history.I hope this generation of filmmakers are documented too. I don’t see any great evidence of that. There are hundreds of TV interviews with actors and directors of today, but I doubt if these interviews have lasting value or give great insight.
Technology has made it possible to capture historical developments inexpensively. Yet there is no serious chronicling of cinema that happens these days. Most people indulge in frivolous conversations. Why do you think this situation has come about?
TV is a big monster that needs feeding; and quickly. It is hungry 24/7. When you do things fast, how can they be deep and thought-through? There isn’t the time to reflect. We also favour a culture of the “here and now” and chat shows satisfy that need. Do audiences like serious interviews? I think so, but do the TV channels think so? The big hiccup is that chat shows aren’t archival material — how many times can you see the same episode of a gushing presenter talking to a star, who often says the same things? Just about once. Archival value means something else.
You have often expressed the opinion that, as an art, cinema is not judged on the same plane of, say, theatre. Yet it is the most sought after and influential medium we can think of, especially in India. Isn’t there an irony there?
Yes, there is irony in that. But most-after things aren’t often considered art. Soaps may get high TRPs, but are they art?
Cinema is the greatest art form of our times and is recognised as such in the West. It combines art, music, theatre, literature, photography, performance, choreography — and has developed its own language to tell stories. But often for an art form to be recognised as an art form, people need to write about it. And that process has already begun — since the past ten years, there are more and more books written about Indian cinema.
Things have changed since you started your career. On one side, celebrities have been overexposed through the media flood. And on the other, access to them has becomes difficult. What have been your recent experiences?
Yes, access is more difficult because celebrities just don’t have a minute to breathe. But they give me time when they can, because they seem to like my work. My documentaries and books have done well like the book on Lata Mangeshkar or the documentary on Shah Rukh Khan which was called The Inner/Outer World of SRK.
Personal relationships mattered more in earlier times and it’s true of all professions. If you blog or tweet it doesn’t mean you’re a friend. Tweets to me are like weather bulletins — how am I feeling right now? With emphasis on the “I.” Not the “we.”
But we live in hugely complex times and to be noticed in the crowded market-place, perhaps you have to be a narcissist. I think today even Superman would not revert to being ordinary Clark Kent.
A little bit about your upcoming project with A R Rahman?
It’s a book of conversations. We’ve just started. Too early to explain its shape. But A R Rahman is a solidly genuine person and working with him is knowing that great artists can firmly have the ground under their feet.
