Wednesday, November 30, 2016

VIRTUAL REALITY, AZADI, AND CINEMA POSTERS

“Azadi 70 Saal, Yaad Karo Qurbani” (70 Years of Independence, Remember the Sacrifices) is the focus of National Film Archives of India’s (NFAI) exhibition at IFFI 2016. Last year NFAI introduced multimedia to complement their annual exhibition of film posters. This year, Virtual Reality technology has been introduced to provide a virtual tour of the NFAI headquartered in Pune, the facilities made available there, the type of archival and restoration work the organization undertakes, and how some of the most valuable films on celluloid are stored.

The present exhibition has a range of posters from various languages paired with film clips, along with the virtual reality. One can browse through the art work of such posters like Seva Sadan (Tamil, 1938), Vande Mataram (Telugu, 1939) under the category “Social Films with Political Overtones”. The category “National Leaders and Freedom Struggle” features Hum Dono (Hindi, 1961), Haqeeqat (Hindi, 1964). The artwork of films like 1857 (Hindi, 1946), Ek Kadam (Hindi, 1947), and Shaheed (Hindi, 1948) are also displayed. Visitors can also watch old propaganda and news films, all of which have been preserved at NFAI. Old black-and-white films like “Attack: The Battle for New Britain” or newsreel clips from Indian News Parade on how Indian nationalist leaders reacted to the viceroy’s decisions or the geopolitical situation off the coast of Japan are also quite interesting.

The virtual reality section of the NFAI exhibition has two parts: the first consists of the tour of NFAI and their activities; the second is more interactive, comprising a virtual exhibition of film posters. The viewer can take a virtual walk around a gallery, and read the brief note under each of the posters.It’s a positive addition to the overall experience of this annual IFFI fixture.

Director of NFAI,Prakash Magdum told The Peacock the selection of posters was done in consonance with the theme, seeking to highlight the institution’s collection of archival material on the sacrifices of freedom-fighters, social evils and developmental issues, as well as the contribution of the nation’s armed forces.
While the effort is commendable, this viewer was left feeling there could have been more archival material made available, and it could have been presented in a better way, especially since the audio-visual component can be stimulating and generate more interest in the exhibition. Magdum told The Peacock there were some practical and logistical difficulties in adding more material to the exhibition.

“The thing is that a theme-based focus is needed,” he says, citing the sheer size of the archive which holds more than 25,000 posters. The equipment needed and the requirement to keep the virtual reality clip short to accommodate as many persons as possible in a limited time frame means that there are also constraints on using such technology in the exhibition. Bearing in mind these factors, he says, “we have tried our best.”

While the theme of “70 Years of Independence…” draws on history, one needs to be sure of being objective and representative. “We have tried to take the (archival) material from all possible languages,” Magdum explains.

Considering the value of the irreplaceable NFAI archives to lay and serious cinephiles alike, one would be interested to know of the institution’s future plans. Apart from efforts to make the archival material available as much as possible to the public through social media, Mr. Magdum says “I can promise you that there will be a very interesting theme (for next year’s) exhibition.”

(A version of this article was first published in The Peacock, 22 November, 2016) 

KOREAN MOVIES ARE ABOUT THE “STRUGGLE TO SURVIVE”



Many in India have spent countless hours watching Korean films on YouTube – or at least have spent an excruciating amount of time ‘buffering’ Korean films. These films can be said to have a cult following in India; youth in the northeastern states of India thrive on Korean films and music. Therefore, a Korean director being honoured with a lifetime achievement award at the 47th IFFI, 2016 is an opportunity for many to get to know the people behind this prolific film industry, which has churned out classics like My Sassy Girl (2001), Old Boy (2003), and The Classic (2003) amongst others.

Im Kwon-Taek, the octogenarian who has directed over a hundred films has been awarded the IFFI Lifetime Achievement Award this year. Kwon-Taek is considered in South Korea as the “Father of Korean Cinema.” The global popularity and fan-following of Korean cinema owes its existence to the “New Korean Cinema” or “New Korean Wave” that produced commercially-driven films. Kwon-Taek is credited, along with a couple other directors, with founding this movement.

Kwon-Taek received critical acclaim in the 1980s, though he was making films even earlier. Films like Mandala (1981), The General’s Son I, II, & III (1990, 1991, 1992), and Soepyeonje (1993) are some of his well received films.

His influence cannot be denied. The tag of “Father of Korean Cinema” is very true, confirms Jong-Soo Kim, the New Delhi correspondent of Korean Broadcasting System, a media company. But for a man who has worked so much all his life and who is such an influential figure in Korean cinema, Kwon-Taek appears to be an unassuming man. He was kind enough to jot down the names of Indian movies like 3 Idiots and (and the not-so Indian) Slumdog Millionaire to respond to the obvious questions by reporters. He repeated several times that he is ashamed and embarrassed about some of the “immature” films he has made – especially during his formative “immature” days. The lifetime award is an indication, he says, to make more movies.

While the commercially-driven Korean New Wave movement has reached a global audience, boosting the Korean economy and tourism along the way, one is curious as to what these films can tell us about Korean culture. One of the most defining features of Korean films is the ‘twist’ to the story; the unexpected and unimaginable ‘twist’ that Korean filmmakers have been able to add to even the most simple of love stories, for instance. Is this ‘twist’ connected in any way to Korean culture?

Jong-Soo Kim explains, “There is an old Korean saying, ‘You have to listen till the end of the story’.” There seems to be a cultural requirement that the stories Koreans tell – even the most mundane ones – should have a twist at the end. “No twists, no fun,” Jong-Soo Kim states very simply. Korean people want their stories to be ‘fun’ and the ‘twists’ make their stories fun.

What makes Korean films (including K-POP music) so popular? Jong-Soo Kim explains that the films and music is made in a uniquely Korean style that he calls ‘Korean Dynamic Style’. It is the way the Korean artists dress, dance, and generally perform. Korean Dynamic Style is also the manner in which the sets and settings are composed in the Korean movies, he elaborates.

But Korean films are also a serious engagement with the culture and history of Korea. Many of Kwon-Taek’s films are about depicting the traditional culture; a culture that the Korean youth are rapidly moving away from. “You can learn about politics, sociology, or why our youngsters struggle in South Korea today from our films,” says Jong-Soo Kim.

Ultimately Korean films are about how Koreans “struggle to survive” in the world. This is how Jong-Soo Kim sums up the spirit of one of the largest filmmaking industries in the world, which earns over 50 million dollars annually from its domestic films.

(A version of this article was first published in The Peacock, 21 November, 2016) 

GOAN DIRECTORS ON ‘GOAN’ FILMS



Writing for the Open magazine in 2011, Ajit Duara lamented that “Goa…never had a reliable recorder of its history, at least in cinema.” Bollywood depictions, he further explained have been responsible – despite few good movies on Goa – for the lack of serious engagements with Goa’s history and culture. From the time such an assertion was made, it seems that the dearth of both filmmakers and serious engagements are gaps that are being slowly filled. However, it would be erroneous to think that before the present crop of filmmakers there were no films made about Goa and Goans. Indeed, the decades from the 1950s saw a few films like Amchem Noxib (1963, Our Fate) and Nirmonn (1966, Destiny) being produced, which today are considered as classics in Goan cinema.

And if there is a growing bunch of Goan filmmakers making unique movies that have a deep appeal amongst the Goan populace, what are the conceptual and intellectual issues that Goan directors face? In other words, what makes a film ‘Goan,’ assuming that there is a thing like a ‘Goan’ film? “Honesty,” emphasizes Bardroy Barretto, the director of the much-loved Nachom-ia Kumpasar (Let’s dance to the Rhythm). Barretto’s labor of love brought alive the jazz scene in Bombay, and the immense contribution of Goan musicians in fuelling that industry, including Bollywood music. Barretto feels that the cinematic language of Goan films is “trying to be Bollywood,” thereby suggesting that it needs to move in a different direction. He explains that the honesty in the story comes in the form of having “enough subtext of Goa” in the form of the level of detailing done by the filmmaker. By taking care in developing the character – such as the spoken language used in the dialogues – makes the film authentic to the culture, Barretto feels, for it is “only then that the film is worth for other audiences.”

“I don’t know if films can be constrained within regions,” says Dnyanesh Moghe, director of the film Digant (Boundless). Moghe is not interested in labels, it seems. He reasons that the problems that he depicts in his work – those of identity, freedom, the suppression of self-expression, and spiritual problems are universal. Like the title of his film, Moghe also sees himself as boundless: “I am a global citizen. I don’t believe in nationality, though I am an Indian.” Of course, Moghe does not deny the influence of Goa in the creative process. But he emphasizes that it is only incidental: “Stories come to me from my surrounding, which is Goa.”

Laxmikant Shetgaonkar, director of the critically acclaimed Paltadcho Munis (The Man Beyond the Bridge), feels very strongly that “language” is more important in understanding the categorization of films. “There is nothing called ‘Goan’ cinema,” he asserts, “there is either Marathi, Konkani, or Malayalam cinema.” Rajendra Talak feels that Goan cinema – or “regional films,” according to him – “highlights issues connected to Goa. They depict the culture of Goa.” All his three films Aleesha, Antarnaad, and O Maria focused on the problems of the mining industry, music practiced by two generations within a single family, and the property and land disputes respectively. In fact Dharmanand Vernekar, another Goan director feels the same that Goan films depict the issues that come along with “Goenkarponn – the Goan identity.” “Good cinema,” he says, “should portray what is happening in society. It cannot simply be fiction.”

While we can see a difference of opinion on the topic of what makes a film ‘Goan,’ many of the Goan filmmakers interviewed feel that movies sacrifice much to the altar of commerce. As Goan filmmakers there is also the implicit responsibility of exploring the authentic lives and culture of the people of the land. For instance, many of the new movies released in Goa have an aesthetic drawing upon the Christian-inflected culture of Goa, indeed set in Christian cultural milieus; churches and wayside crosses, therefore, are not just religious marker but also markers of culture featured prominently in films. This is significant as much of the cinematic portrayal of Goa imagines this state as influenced by Southern European and Christian culture. Such a process can be seen, no doubt, in the countless Bollywood films set in Goa, but this appears to be a different process. Filmmakers in Goa are drawing on the popularity tiatr artists, a Konkani art form that draws on, and is set in a Christian cultural milieu. “I agree that there is a pattern,” says Shetgaonkar, wherein the films that are popular draw on Christian cultural markers and those that don’t do not find throngs of crowd watching the films twice or thrice.

Barretto, Shetgaonkar, and Moghe all agree that commercial concerns dominate in such creative choices. “We have stopped looking at films as an art-form. Films are like commodities to be bought and sold.” Practical and pressing compulsions like financing the film, necessitates compromises, says Moghe. Barretto, Shetgaonkar, and Moghe feel that such a creative choice of either prominently using tiatr artists or Christian culture has nothing much to do with the fact that Goa’s encounter with the Christian religion and the culture that it spawned over the centuries.

It is interesting to note, in this context, Moghe insisting that the story needs to be told with “honesty”. The Goan directors feel that Goan filmmakers have the potential to deliver stories that are authentic to the culture – provided that there is a fidelity to the nuances of the story. They feel that the difficulties the filmmaking industry presently faces will go away through a refinement of the creative process. 

(A version of this article was first published in The Peacock, 20 November, 2016)

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

THE FACE OF ‘DEVELOPMENT’



What does ‘development’ mean to the common man? S/he generally expects that the state should provide infrastructure facilities like roads, bridges, hospitals, sports complexes, transport facilities, etc. But while asking for basic amenities is one thing, development is often used to suggest the urgent need of large-scale investments in various types of industries and projects like bridges, stadia, big hotels, etc. The latter – along with its inherent urgency – is often responsible for the destruction of communities and land. There is, therefore, a gap between what development supposedly seeks to achieve and what it eventually ends up doing.

While notions of development may have changed over the years, its core has been the same. Since the day of the establishment of the Indian state, development was linked to economic modernization. More recently this vision of ‘development’ has been augmented with plans for improved urbanization (‘Smart Cities’) and a move to increase the reach of the internet (‘Digital India’). In each of these cases the promotion of ‘development’ is seen as a solution to all, or if not, most of the problems that are faced by the society.

The tourism industry in Goa helps us to see the gap between the theoretical and practical aspects of development. Land and community resources were used in this development, ostensibly, for the betterment of the same land and community that provided the resources. However, this has not been the case with the way the tourism industry has developed. Considering the present situation of the tourism industry, and in view of the fact that the government commissioned a new Master Plan for tourism this year, re-visiting some older blueprints for tourism development such as the ‘Master Plan for Tourism Development in Goa, July 1987’ (MP 1987) that initiated the massive tourism development, leaves little doubt that we need to urgently re-think how community and land resources should be used.

According to MP 1987, the travel industry was growing rapidly and there was a need to catch up with it since Goa could not be “immune” to such a global economic trend. MP 1987 sought to promote tourism, but it had also noted the problems attendant with the tourism industry. It recognized that the “management of tourism is a very complex task. It makes enormous demands on the resources of the place, natural and man-made”. MP 1987 was not in favor of “sacrificing the quality of the local environment” to make quick profit. The destruction of the environment could also lead to the loss of the “cultural mooring” of the local society, the report had warned.

The authors of MP 1987 had also conducted a sample survey of the Calangute-Candolim beach belt, to get a sense of the problems that these areas faced. Even before the advent of large-scale development, the survey revealed a proliferation of unauthorized construction activity, with the commercial activity encroaching on the roads due to a lack of space. The lack of space was leading to traffic congestion. Shortage of drinking water, absence of garbage and sewage management, drug trafficking, prostitution, and high land prices were the other problems identified by MP 1987. The survey also found that tourism development had bred conflict between traditional occupations, like fishing and agriculture, and tourism-related activities. This resulted in social and economic imbalances in the village economy, the report added.

To avoid any adverse effects of tourism development, MP 1987 suggested that it was important to “arrive at a volume of tourism which will bring optimum benefit” to the local people and the national economy. However, the report had admitted, in earnest, that there were “no standards available” to determine the volume of tourists that Goa could handle. Perhaps this might very well be the case as one can observe a contradictory logic running through the report: there are recommendations made for the increase of infrastructure to accommodate the increasing influx of tourists despite the fact that MP 1987 recognized that the carrying capacity of a small place like Goa was limited.

Nearly thirty years later, the Government of Goa has commissioned another Master Plan for tourism. R. Benedito Ferrão recently wrote about this Master Plan and argued that while the Master Plan made suggestions about protecting the environment and involving local Goans, there was precious little said on how exactly to do this. Further, this most recent Master Plan envisaged the role of Goans as only service-providers, and not as stakeholders. This appears to be quite similar to the vision of the MP 1987. While the initial Master Plan was prepared by the government, the recent one was drawn by a MNC. If at all anything has changed it is the shift towards opening of the economy for corporate or private exploitation.

This should force us to recognize that the language and practice of development is marked by a one-way power relation wherein communities – often marginalized – have to bear most of the brunt. While at least the Master Plans of 1987 and 2016 made the effort (or is it pretence?) of involving Goans to benefit from tourism development, other instances such as the often violent and cunning manner in which communities are dispossessed of their lands – in Tiracol, Betul, Loliem, and Mopa – shows us the blatantly brute power of actual ‘development’, as opposed to the subtle variants of the tourism Master Plans.

Rather than the emphasis on development, the importance and utility of public amenities, such as roads, bridges, hospitals for community use, need to be highlighted. The ambiguous language and practice of development needs to be replaced with a concrete vision that keeps marginalized communities and the environment safe.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 23 November, 2016)