Nothing could have been more clever. Arindam Sil’s film Korpur, a political thriller based on an education scam that occurred close to three decades ago during the Left Front regime, was released this March, just ahead of the announcement of the West Bengal Assembly elections. That’s not all. Sil had cast two Trinamool heavyweights in his film.
But say as much to Sil and he makes korpur of the matter. “I know many people will read between the lines, but my film is a political thriller, not a political film,” he says.
He continues, “Korpur was planned for this season when people are talking about elections. I wanted to generate some excitement, nothing more.”
That may be the case, but the use of the Bengali words bhoy and bhorsha from the film have since become the election chant of a third political party. “Those posters might have been made after watching my film,” says Sil, bursting into laughter. And then after gathering his thoughts, he adds, “Jokes apart, in politics, fear is an important tool. You see, the way Trump is threatening, he is trying to instil fear. He is trying to say that I will wipe out a civilisation. And what did he start with? He started by saying we are attacking nuclear bases…”
I am meeting Sil at his office in south Calcutta. It is full of books and certificates and trophies. On the table, there is a copy of Dan Brown’s The Secret of Secrets, an ornate brass paperweight perched on it.
For a while, we talk about Korpur and the very real scam that is at the heart of it. Sil says, “I believe in a system corruption works like termite.” Does he mean to suggest that the more recent state School Service Commission scam from 2022 involving Trinamool’s Partha Chatterjee, was less serious? Sil’s reply, “That is a personal thing. The system was not involved.” But he quickly adds, “I abhor that too. Any criminal activity involving the health and education system of a country, I abhor. But in our country we thrive on corruption. That is why we cannot make political films. What kind of political cinema does the Iranian film director Jafar Panahi make despite being under house arrest? Despite being jailed? About his country? About the system? He is so outspoken. We don’t have that kind of courage.”
Sil says his intention behind making Korpur was to address the basic problems in the education system. He boasts that students from all over Calcutta came forward to express their gratitude. He says, “The same thing had happened after I made Dhananjoy.” Released in 2017, Dhananjoy is based on the rape of school student Hetal Parekh in the 1990s. It was alleged that she had been raped by security guard Dhananjoy, a fact he continued to deny till he was executed in 2004.
Sil says, “When Korpur was announced, people started hitting me below the belt. But I have taken it. I have the guts.” Guts is one thing, but why cast ministers of the ruling party in a film that lays bare the machinations of their political predecessors? Just laughs and raised eyebrows? This time Sil is dead serious. “I have detached myself from their other identity. To me, suitability is what matters. Kunal Ghosh knew a lot about the case. His mannerisms were a perfect match. As for Bratya Basu, he is one of the finest actors. In the film, he plays a wronged cop.”
Sil adds, “In fact, a career in acting and the profession of a politician are very akin to each other.”
And it is from there that we start to drift away from Korpur and to a topic more recent — the death of actor Rahul Arunoday Banerjee and all that it has raked up about the Bengali film and television industry.
What is the real problem with the Bengali film industry, I ask him. Does it have to do with too much political interference? Sil’s reply, “The Bengali film industry has never been united. In the 1960s, there were two organisations — Shilpi Sansad, which was founded by Uttam Kumar and he strictly maintained that it was apolitical, and the Left-leaning Abhinetri Sangha, which had Soumitra Chatterjee at its helm at one point — and actors were affiliated to one or the other. The Federation of Film Societies of India – Eastern Region was politicised to the extent of being unionised. I saw the chief minister in the 1990s come to Technicians’ Studio before elections and have cha and telebhaja.”
“But,” he says and takes a deep breath. “But those days the filmmakers could still go about their work, appreciate each other, and they also criticised each other, but openly. They were not harmful. Now, all those socialisations that you see out there — they are fake.”
He talks about what happened to Rahul. “It is sad that the death of a colleague has finally united us. But even now, people are trying to show off their power, their contribution… I personally believe that politics should be kept out of art, culture and sports.”
Sil goes on impassionedly, “As for Tollywood, we, filmmakers, have to become bigger human beings. We need to take responsibility for what is happening and how it is happening. We have to own it too. Right now, that is what Tollywood is missing.”