Stills from Tasher Desh

Nikon, 35, who graduated in editing from SRFTI, is the man in the wheelchair who snips Q’s films, from Bishh to Tasher Desh (except Gandu). A t2 chat...

Were you a movie buff in school?

I was a huge SRK fan in Class X! (Laughs) And then one day I chanced upon Krzysztof Kieslowski’s Three Colors trilogy at a video store. There was a sexy image of a girl on the cover, so I thought that the film must be about good sex! I was looking for titillation. And then I was struck by the pacing, framing and the subtleness of the film. And then I watched Trainspotting, which blew me away. I was 17.

Why did you join SRFTI?

As I was finishing B.Com at St. Xavier’s, I realised that I wanted to do something creative. But the opportunities were so limited. Video was not developed yet. Everyone was shooting on film. There was a huge cost to learn. Now everything is so democratised. You can watch online tutorials, pick up skills and work from a desktop computer. I applied to National Institute of Design and didn’t get through. So I was very depressed. I went to visit my cousin who was studying there and I saw everyone creating art together. That’s when I decided that I had to get into a space like that where I could explore my interests and meet like-minded people. The closest place was Satyajit Ray Film and Television Institute (SRFTI).

Why did you take up editing?

Because I was a lazy f***er and I wanted to sit in an air-conditioned room and work. I am good with computers and I thought I’d get a job after I pass out. Digital editing was the catchword then. I got through SRFTI in 2002 and I was super happy!

Did you meet Q then?

Yes, in the first year. Q was making a digital film, Tepantorer Maathe, in Calcutta, and he came over to the institute. He was this weird-looking guy with red hair, and I thought, ‘Lokta shubidher noy!’ But then we smoked up and hung out. He was looking for an actor and I auditioned for him. At that time, I was a purist, anti-flash, anti-glamour, and Q was in his glam mode in neon clothes, which completely threw me off. The audition didn’t go well for me. Then we lost touch. I had my accident the next year.

How did that happen?

It was a car accident in 2003. I was drunk, stoned, driving on the highway… but it got my life back into focus. I was partying a lot and was not focused on the craft of editing.... I was hospitalised for six-seven months. It was a spinal cord injury… then I had to come back, get integrated into society. The accident changed my mindset. I had a family set-up here to help me out. So I started looking out for people whom I could work with. Q was the only guy in Calcutta who wanted to do something different. That’s how we jammed. We hooked up for a commercial. I got my first job from Q, and it gave me huge confidence. Because of my disability I couldn’t do all kinds of work. After a few months he asked me to edit Bishh, and then the documentary Love In India.

What kind of films were you watching then?

By 2005, I had started watching films by Takashi Miike. He blew me away with his style and energy. A South Asian wave was happening then, led by Japanese, Korean, Taiwanese and Chinese directors. Q and I shared a common sense of aesthetic and taste, and an understanding and appreciation for their craft and storytelling techniques.

You had a purist attitude towards cinema. How did the transition happen?

Takashi Miike has this guerrilla punk attitude towards cinema, which someone like Jean-Luc Godard has, but from a European standpoint. I totally get that.

How was your experience working on Love In India?

I really came into my own with Love In India. We had to construct a narrative from the footage Q shot for over three years. It was a co-production between four countries — Finland, Australia, Germany and India. It was a TV production. So we had to make changes and make it more streamlined. Each country had a different criterion. Australia wanted a 120-minute film, Germany a 90-minute one and Finland 50 minutes. So we made three films — 120 minutes, 90 minutes and 50 minutes. We edited like crazy for one-and-a-half years. Q used to drop me home early in the morning. I locked two versions, and then caught a flight next day on December 24, 2008, to Vancouver.

Why did you go to Vancouver?

I wanted to get out of Calcutta, I wanted to get away from the traditional film space. I was stuck here for a long time. I got into the Emily Carr University of Art + Design in 2008 to study animation and motion graphics. I came back in November 2011, and I realised the whole scene had changed.

How did art school change your perspective on cinema?

I got exposed to a lot of avant-garde films. At the university, I had two great visiting professors — Thomas Riedelsheimer, an amazing filmmaker-cinematographer from Germany, and Robert Fenz, a great experimental filmmaker. He only shoots on 16mm, silent. He introduced me to works by avant-garde filmmakers like James Benning and Stan Brakhage. We would drink together at night and he would tell me stories....

How do you work with Q?

I have huge respect for Q’s work ethic. He really pushes you. I grow because of that. People don’t know how hard he works. We are good friends and we compete even when we are editing. It is such a spontaneous process, like playing two guitars together. He is not a passive observer, he’s so actively involved in the process. Both of us believe in physical sensory cinema, and that’s what we set out to do in Tasher Desh.

Forthcoming projects?

Surojit Sen and I are writing the script for Ludo, which Q and I will direct. It’s a historical-horror film. I am working with the Houston-based professor-cum-filmmaker Ashish Avikunthak. The film deals with Kali and tantra.

Arindam Chatterjee