An Interview with Indian Cinema's Saving Grace
By Mo Shah

Lounging a little too casually in his crushed red silk kameez, and speaking in a melodically effeminate accent usually reserved for the fashion glitterati, one would not immediately pick up on the fact that they were sitting avec India's most critically acclaimed contemporary director. Avec whom? Avec Rituparno Ghosh, a man who has ridden a meteoric juggernaut of critical and commercial success that has led to near-universal acknowledgement of his work slowly filling that ever-dilating void punctured in Indian cinema since the death of the legendary Satyajit Ray. Fortunately, bestowing the admittedly finicky Rituparno with such praise, even for this brief moment in time, would render the director speechless, for Satyajit Ray has been more than just a salient influence on Ritu’s trajectory into the film business – he is perhaps, Ghosh’s guru.

Rituparno Ghosh’s demeanor may not suggest the genius of an individual who has almost single-handedly revived a global interest in Bengali films, a cinema that was, at its pinnacle, regarded amongst the pioneering voices of 20th century art. This is not to abrogate some of the fine work that has been steadily released from Bengal, but the fact remains that not since Ray has a Bengali director shifted the attention of Indian and non-Indian moviegoers away from Bollywood and towards Bengali films for such a protracted period of time. That alone is an incredible feat for a director who shies away from the mainstream. In an industry where popular films have become as lavish, formulaic and dumbed-down as Bollywood blockbusters, Ritu’s films offer a breath of sophistication, intellectual stimulation, and respect for a medium that has long been disgraced by Bollywood’s need to generate lakhs over legends.

While Ritu was in New York for the Human Rights Film Festival’s screening of his award winning Aishwarya Rai vehicle Choker Bali, he managed to squeeze in a little tete-a-tete with EGO Magazine. Despite being an extremely humorous, eccentric, and absentminded individual, Ritu was very serious when it came to the subject of Bengali films and their distinction from the popular Bollywood cinema of India. In addition to some truly lighthearted and hilarious moments, this one particular theme seemed to govern our exchange.

Choker Bali is a brilliant film. In fact, the character of Choker Bali might just be one of the most complex, layered, and dynamic women to grace a Bollywood movie for decades. Almost all of your films deal with complex female protagonists. How do you get inside the psyche of your female characters so well?
Well first of all, this is not a Bollywood film. It is not Bollywood, because it is not Bombay. There is a central core entertainment industry in Bombay, and people from various regions come and partake in this mainstream cinema, although Hindi may not be their first language. So Bengali cinema has always existed outside of the mainstream. It has its own traditions. And who do we show these Bengali films to? We cannot show these movies in Bangladesh because it is against the law to show our (Indian) films there. Therefore Bengali cinema has its audience primarily in West Bengal. And then you have a smaller audience dispersed throughout India and the world that takes an interest in these films. Some of the regional Indian films are brilliant, whether they are from Kerala or Bengal, but often the interest outside of their market is so limited it isn’t even worth the money to put subtitles on them.

Then, do you feel that as a mainstream Indian, and subsequently global audience, we are only exposed to the cream of the crop when it comes to regional cinema? For instance Choker Bali was a hit all over India and performed well globally. Hence we are seeing it play in the United States.
Well, Choker Bali was well received in India and the rest of the world for a completely different set of reasons. In Bombay, the audience was lured to this film for Aishwarya Rai – who is very much a national entity and treasure. Only in South India can one not tempt an audience with a Bollywood star, because they have created their own mainstream cinema, with its own loyalties. It is as prolific as Bollywood. In fact, South Indians are descendents of the Dravidian culture, which is culturally more endowed and historical than Aryan culture. So their movies are naturally more accomplished. In fact Bollywood always copies from the South – always has and always will - and almost all music and visual awards are awarded to the South.

But what about the stellar output from Bollywood throughout the 50s and 60s?
Well, I consider a lot of the landmarks from that era to be the exception rather than the rule. You look at K. Asif (Mughaleazam) and Mehboob Khan (Aan, Andaaz) and they are remembered for a couple of films rather than a series. In fact these directors are basically “schools of thought.” Guru Dutt is a "school of thought." V. Shantaram is a "school of thought." I would not call any of them a systematic continuation in cinema. Look at Bollywood today – take Sanjay Leela Bhansali (Devdas) even he has not established a "school of thought." He has not done enough.

Does he need to?
As a director, no…it may not be. But when we study the history of cinema it becomes important. You need to be consistent so the cinema today has a path towards tomorrow. Bollywood does not do that for the most part. Bengali cinema does. Aside from Guru Dutt, there are very few people who can influence filmmakers of today in Bollywood. The same can’t be said of Bengali cinema. We influence future filmmakers and the medium enhances and moves on.

But do you think Orson Welles and other great filmmakers really made their films thinking future generations should learn from them and improve on them?
No, not consciously. But you have to be responsible to the industry. By enhancing your own growth as a filmmaker, you are enhancing the industry. Otherwise you are always going to be stuck to the cinema of yesterday. Also, in a developing country like ours there is an added responsibility to the filmmakers to educate the public.

Didn’t that happen with the films of the 50s? They had very socialist themes. And I'm speaking of Bollywood now, not Bengali cinema.
No, actually it didn’t. It is very tricky because it is well guised. You see, they targeted either the masses, who are poor, or the richest of the rich. Look at all the films of the 50s, 60s, 70s, there is not one film with a middle class character, let alone hero.

And does this rule apply today?
Look at cinema today in Bollywood. Look at Sharukh Khan in Kabbhi Khushi Kabbhi Gham. He comes home from college in a helicopter! Heroes use cell phones that don’t exist yet. So cinema today is even more scaled up. Bollywood cinema had never and has never allowed space for middle class characters, let alone sensibilities. The only thing about the unreachable upper class characters is that they have middle or lower-class values. Like these characters who go abroad and study in the best universities and come back and touch their “papa’s” feet. Again, we don’t see this put-on pretense in Bengali cinema.

So we’ve established that you are part of a tradition that is separate from Bollywood. Certainly one that is more authentic. Was there a single moment in your life, while growing up, when you knew you would be doing this? Was there a salient influence? A certain film? A particular aspect of your upbringing?
An influence? Ray. Undoubtedly Ray.

Nothing or nobody else?
Well, you see, my parents were artists. Painters. My father, Sunil Ghosh was a documentary filmmaker. They met at an art college. So when other children went to carnivals and toy shops – I would go to artisan shops. Because that is where my parents had their friends. And I was left in the hall, running around – looking at paintings.

So it was fostered? The artist in you.
Certainly. And it left a great impression on me. But interestingly, it was fostered at a young age – when we grew up…we were restricted from pursuing arts or literature.

For traditional reasons? As in, filmmakers and artists are usually not wealthy?
Yes. My father said if I wanted to study English and Literature then I should find a place to beg on the street. So I went on to study Economics. And I loathed Economics. So I was fortunate. I went to a college where I hated my subject. So I did so many other things. If there was a film-festival, I was there. I saw my first Goddard there. I saw my first Bergman film.

Beautiful. Which ones?
The Goddard film was Wicked. The first Bergman film I saw was Silence. And I sat and saw that film. And soon, just out of interest I saw all of their films. And I began participating in conversations and dialogues on these films. And I was young and opinionated…I did not want to sit like a dumb boy on the side. In youth, you have a lot to prove. So my mantra was that I did not attend class because I was a culture freak. But I had to know about culture. And so, without studying anything I got into film. I went into advertising, journalism and finally, scraped enough together to make movies.

How do your parents feel now?
Now, they say I would make a much better artist than them. I don’t agree though…I can’t hold a brush.

But you have proven to be a brilliant artist – just in another medium. Besides the film Raincoat, every single film you have made has been in Bengali. And almost all these films have garnered wide acclaim, and awards not just for you, but for the actresses involved as well. Why do you concentrate on female protagonists? How do you direct and write your characters so well?
I simply am more interested in these characters than mainstream protagonists. I like finding unconventional characters and fleshing them out. And for some reason I have a knack for writing good female roles. I also place these females in unconventional situations. For instance, in Choker Bali, we see the female characters immersed in an odd family dynamic. You see, when Tagore wrote Choker Bali, marriage amongst cousins was frowned upon in his region.

And here we have four almost family-like figures who are so close. The men and the women. So it’s almost…incestuous?
Exactly! It can certainly be read that way.

And you even attracted Kiran Kher to act for you in Bariwali (2000). And she doesn’t even speak Bengali! That is quite a feat. Sharmila Tagore, Aishwarya Rai – I mean there are so many actresses who want to work with you. Regardless of the film’s box office potential. What is the secret to your success as a writer/director?
Well I write my own screenplays. You see, Choker Bali…and even Raincoat – these are all stories that other people have written. But I alter them to not even resemble the source material. Tagore’s Choker Bali is very removed from my own. Our stories share very little in common. I think women feel I portray them in…not a good light…but an interesting one.

I agree. I think your characterizations in script and direction on screen have led to some of the most remarkable female performances and unique stories ever portrayed in India. Are you impressed with the new actresses that Bollywood is churning out? Is Aishwarya the first in a long-line of Bollywood stars you would like to acquire for your films?
Thank you for your first comment. Well, Rani (Mukherji) was slated to play a role in one of my films. But she opted out because it was the role of a common maid. Honestly, I am a bit of a snob when it comes to actresses. I feel that they should have some pedigree. A lot of the so-called popular actresses today look very common and can very easily fit into maid roles. I mean look at – (okay EGO Mag reader, you can insert ANY popular “sultry” new Bollywood actress that’s been doing it for you lately – Ritu did!) – she should be wiping floors!

Well despite that, I am sure there will be no shortage of women willing to work their hearts out for you to further your vision. It’s been a pleasure chatting with you – and best of luck with the upcoming production of Mahabarat.

And with that, we ended our discussion. Despite frigid conditions in his hotel room, Ritu asked someone to turn on the air conditioner, which he rather reluctantly let me switch off during our interview. Soon his thoughts drifted away - to clothes, and what he should pack for his trip to DC. He was wondering what DVDs to take with him on his trip. We joked around a bit. He even prank-called a journalist he had no intention of meeting for an interview. And soon I realized, that this remarkable man, this artist who has done so much in such little time, is serious about one thing and one thing only - his art.