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| Film buffs queue up at Nandan. (Sanjoy Chattopadhyaya) |
A film festival is a kind of jungle. Swinging from vines across canopied heights are the actors, directors, writers, and the odd producer or politician. Commonly found foraging in the foliage are members of the press. Spectators stampede through the wide trunks of trees in search of nothing more than a seat, and film students wander wide-eyed through the milieu, unsure of their status as hunter or prey.
Consider also in this scene the jungle explorer: the non-delegate, non-guest without a press card. How far, wondered this particular explorer, can I make it into the jungle without being detected by hungry predators, hit by falling branches, or forcibly removed by security guards?
The trick to entering the halls undetected is to follow large moving crowds while camouflaged as a film buff (in black, spectacles optional). Once seated in one of the impressive halls of Nandan, comfortably arranged in one of the reclining leather seats, take out a notebook and make notes. Not too many — you don’t want to look like a novice — and write down phrases such as “visionary cinematography”, “masterful editing” and “original interpretation” even if the film contains none of these elements.
Now to the inner sanctum: The Press Conference. At the threshold, the explorer must choose: go big or go home, for here the thrust and parry of jungle conflict can be observed at full force. Both Hungarian director Endre Hules (The Maiden Danced to Death) and Swiss director Oliver Paulus (Tandoori Love) defamed the Hollywood takeover of European cinema in separate discussions. The Venezuelan government’s censorship of its film industry was suggested by a press delegate and vehemently refuted by director Marité Ugas (The Kid Who Lies). Continuing the theme of artistic censorship, the Taiwanese director of Everlasting Moments, Wen-Pin Chen, declared, “I am happy to be making films in Taiwan, and not China.”
As the afternoon light fades over the jungle, the thickets grow dense with the growing crowds. One diagnosis is easy: Calcuttans love their films. Trying to get into one of the evening shows is tantamount to challenging a rhino to an arm-wrestling competition. The courtyard of Nandan teems with queues that lead everywhere and nowhere, rather like some of the art-house films screened throughout the week. Nevertheless, there is natural order in apparent chaos, and the explorer leaves unscathed, if somewhat overwhelmed.
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| Soumitra Ray in a new role |
Tired of long, hectic international tours and shows often in double shifts, Soumitra Ray of Bangla band Bhoomi has decided to pause and do things that will give him the “excitement of a new adventure...”
One such adventure has been his foray into theatre — Manoj Mitra’s upcoming play Aschourjo Funtosee.
“I have just finished scoring nine songs. The lyrics are by Manojda and Bhoomi member Robin Lai. A young singer, Irene, assisted me with the music and vocals. We had to record all the songs so that the group could practise singing them on stage and blend them with movement and physical expression,” he said.
“Scoring for theatre is so different from composing songs. One has to understand the situation, the mood and the characters,” he added.
He said Aschourjo Funtosee is a very unusual and meaningful take on the Ramayan. “On one level it is a crazy comedy that draws on various versions of the epic and Indian rural traditions (hence the folk music flavour) and on another it is urban and contemporary.... I think the songs have turned out rather well,” Ray added with a grin.
