Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Humans in My Backyard by Vishal Menon Vishal Bhardwaj: Fascinated by Stories of Human Conflict

Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Humans in My Backyard by Vishal Menon Vishal Bhardwaj: Fascinated by Stories of Human Conflict. Filmmaker Vishal Bhardwaj, best known for his Shakespearean trilogy Maqbool , Omkara and Haider , says he is fascinated by stories of human conflict. (Also Read: Now, Vishal Bhardwaj Wants to Adapt Shakespeare's Comedies) In conversation with scientist-turned-filmmaker Bedabrata Pyne at Kolkata Literary Meet, Vishal said, "I always look for a story which could give me good human conflict (drama). Vishal gave a thumbs up to the Indian tradition of filmmaking, saying films like Lunchbox were made from time to time. He added that Gulzar had always made a strong impact on his cinematic choices. Imman on a mission. With songs of Kayal becoming more popular by the minute, Vishal Menon talks to composer Imman about his super-hit collaborations with Prabhu Solomon. Share Article PRINT AAA. With songs of Kayal becoming more popular by the minute, Vishal Menon talks to composer Imman about his super-hit collaborations with Prabhu Solomon. A week before the release of Kayal , Imman invites us over for a chat at his studio in Virugambakkam. Excerpts: Kayal is your fourth collaboration (after Lee, Mynaa, Kumki ) with Prabhu Solomon. How important is it to sync with a director to compose successful albums? Each time he comes with a script, I’m excited at the opportunity it presents for melodies. It is a pleasure to compose songs you like to listen to yourself. He says he wants songs one can listen to at night. There aren’t many directors who give you that opportunity and I respect how he lays emphasis on the lyrics. For him, songs should work as effectively as dialogues. Some directors sometimes ask for flashy phrases like mercury pookal in their songs, but Prabhu’s films always have characters who sing like they speak — such as ‘Unna ippo paakkanum… pesanum’ in Kayal for example. So does Prabhu come prepared with lyrics? Not always. He comes along with the lyricist (Yugabharathi) to my studio. I prefer to work early in the morning and so we start at around 6.30. I don’t usually have a preset tune and choose to go with the flow. We try to finish at least one song by lunch-time. In fact, this impromptu style of composing is something I started only after Mynaa . Earlier, I used to work alone and give directors scratch disks with the pallavi and dummy lyrics. I have since changed that approach and all my songs are now tailor-made for the situation. A character’s identity, educational background… all these are factored into my music. I believe these sessions are when true creation takes place. Does it bother you that other directors don’t ask for as many melodies? Not really. You cannot survive too long in the industry with just one kind of music. When directors ask for jazz or rock, I oblige. Nevertheless, I ensure that tune is the driving force. Beats and effects should be secondary. Only then will a song remain etched in public memory. But with songs driven solely by tune, aren’t you worried you could alienate younger listeners? I don’t feel so. Take an album like Kumki or Kayal — the listeners are mainly youngsters. You and I live in the city and so, we are only exposed to urban audiences. But the youngsters in the villages are different. Tunes with a regional identity are what matter to them. That said, we hardly hear songs that use ghatam, tabla, strings and woodwind instruments in commercial cinema anymore. People think these are outdated… that they are not ‘youngster material’. But albums like Veyyil, Aadukalam , and Paruthiveeran have proved the opposite. I believe that the more regional you are, the more international you become. So, if you want a Shakira-like song, listen to the original — don’t ask for a Tamil imitation. You started composing at 15. Have you always believed in the importance of songs with a regional identity? No. These are important lessons I picked up along the way. My views on music were totally different when I started out. We have grown up listening to songs composed in a 6-8 talam count as opposed to western songs that have a 2-4 talam count. In our set-up, we know songs that use this formula will go on to become hits. And we cannot get too experimental. You are a sought-after composer. Your Wikipedia page says you’ve worked on 14 films this year. I thought it was 12! ( Laughs ) It’s just coincidental that a lot of my earlier films are releasing this year and a few of them are getting advanced. Also, I don’t have any reservations about who I will work with. I trust my instinct while choosing films… some fail, some exceed expectations. I don’t party so I can go to bed by 10.30. I wake up early and so, I get a lot of time to work on music. What have been some heartening responses to your tracks? During the screening of one of my films, I met a doctor who spoke to me about an autistic child who wasn’t reacting to treatment. This boy, who could not even say appa/amma, was apparently singing the whole pallavi of Soi Soi (Kumki). I was astonished to hear this. Another instance involved African boys who were brought to India for a brain-related treatment. I was shocked to hear that they enjoyed watching ‘Fy fy fy’ ( Pandiya Naadu ) and ‘Oodha colour ribbon’ (Varuthapadatha Valibar Sangam) on TV. It is these reactions that matter most. We are told that you only like to compose in the comfort of your studio. It’s also known that you spend all Sundays at church. I work in my studio from early morning to night on all days except Sundays, when I spend the whole day at church. From Monday to Saturday, it’s all work. I start with a prayer before I sit down to compose. Directors narrate a situation and explain that their song should sound like a particular number, but at the same time, should be original. Under such circumstances, when a fresh tune emerges, it is magical. I’m surprised every time it happens. About six years ago, a producer came to me with a Sri Lankan song and insisted I copy it for his film. Despite my giving him several variations, he remained stubborn and wanted exactly that tune but with Tamil lyrics. After a point, I gave in and they were about to start shooting. I started feeling guilty and immersed myself in prayer. This was perhaps the only time a composer was praying that his song never came out. Two days later, they invited me to the studio and made me listen to a track. Another film had copied the Sri Lankan song and shot its video too. They asked me to compose another tune for them. My prayers had worked! You’re already 15 years old in the industry but you’re only 31! See… my dad is a teacher, my mother a housewife and I come from an ordinary middle-class background. When I wanted to buy an expensive keyboard, my folks offered to mortgage the house for it. As you know, I worked on my first film when I was 15, but it only released when I was 19. I was a nobody when I worked on Thamizhan . When it didn’t work, I didn’t feel disappointed because I had not set my sights on becoming a film composer. I was happy to go back to making jingles. But a few films kept coming my way. Though there were hit songs like ‘Azhagiya Asura’ ( Whistle ), no one knew I’d composed them. And films like Giri and Thalai Nagaram happened which typecast me as a composer suitable only for Arjun and Sundar C. I had become a mass composer, making songs suitable for the tea kadai. So, what changed? Films like Autograph, Veyyil, Kaadhal, and Angadi Theru started changing the face of Tamil cinema. The directors of these films, however, didn’t seem to want to work with me and this got me thinking. Finally, Prabhu Solomon came along when both of us were in the same boat — marginally successful but without any major breakthrough. Lee didn’t do too well, but Mynaa clicked and everything changed. Fascinated by tale of good human conflict: Vishal. Filmmaker Vishal Bharadwaj, best known for his Shakespearean trilogy ‘Maqbool’, ‘Omkara’ and ‘Haider’, says he is fascinated by stories of human conflict. In conversation with scientist-turned-filmmaker Bedabrata Pyne at Kolkata Literary Meet, Vishal said, "I always look for a story which could give me good human conflict (drama). "My films and my subjects make very strong impressions on my cinematic vision. My genre has to be everyman’s genre from ‘Makdee’ to ‘Omkara’ and ‘Haider’. The director said his actors know the space they have to work in and are familiar with their lines. Vishal, whose ‘Haider’ was screened at Busan and Rome film festival last year, praised Irrfan Khan, Saif Ali Khan, Tabu, Kay Kay Menon and others. "I choosenot to direct my actors. I tell them," he said. Vishal gave a thumbs up to the Indian tradition of filmmaking, saying films like "Lunchbox" were made from time to time. Filmmaker Anjali Menon On Why She Chose To Pitch Her Next Film Rasa At Film Bazaar. 'At this film market the delegates coming in may not be familiar with my work and I think that’s great,' says the filmmaker. Posted on January 18, 2021 January 18, 2021 3 minute read by Vishal Menon. Among the many filmmakers (21 in total) whose works have entered Film Bazaar 2021’s Co-Production Market, the name of Malayalam film director Anjali Menon stands apart. For one, she is already an experienced filmmaker with many hits in her career like Bangalore Days and Koode . The platform is one that presents independent filmmakers with the chance of pitching their projects virtually to a curated audience of Indian and international producers, distributors, festival programmers, financiers and sales agents at the Open Pitch Online. Menon has pitched her 90-minute film Rasa which is about Manju, a Nepali maid in a South Indian household who falls in love with Bharatnatyam. We spoke to the filmmaker about why she chose to pitch Rasa at Film Bazaar with delegates who may not be familiar with her work. An edited email exchange between Anjali Menon days before the Film Bazaar. You’re a successful filmmaker who has made superhit films like Bangalore Days and Koode, which were both critically acclaimed as well. Since NFDC’s Film Bazaar is a platform for unknown and independent filmmakers. Why did you take this route? There is great liberty in being an unknown filmmaker. You can surprise yourself and others. At this film market the delegates coming in may not be familiar with my work and I think that’s great. It gives me an opportunity to start afresh—do something very different without having to meet any set expectations. But more importantly for RASA I am seeking the kind of artistic approach to filmmaking and content that requires like-minded collaborators. And I believe Film Bazaar can be a good place to connect with some of them. What is Rasa about? Rasa is a story about how basic human emotion and rhythm can connect even an uninitiated spectator deeply to a classical art form—in this case Bharatanatyam; and the story is set in the backdrop of class, community, culture and disparity. What about this film made you take this route? Is there a difference between producers in Film Bazaar and producers outside when you pitch a story? If there is, how different is it? The ecosystem for the 1000+ films made in our country every year is mainly geared towards commercial films. The constant focus is on the market and the audience. The Film Bazaar brings together people who are seeking to make artistic cinema and that is a rare opportunity here. My key priority is identifying good partners who identify with this kind of film. Did you have other options for a platform like OTT apart from Film Bazaar? OTTs do give a lot of opportunities for producing content but I am really on the lookout for individuals, particularly experienced producers and mentors who can nurture the artistic vision and take the subject to its real potential. Would you recommend a Film Bazaar route to aspiring filmmakers? If they are seeking to make artistic cinema, yes surely. NP Prakash, the producer of your film Rasa is part of Little Films India. What can you tell us about this collaboration? NP and I have a great working relationship from my first film onwards and it is born from deep respect for each other’s skill and process. That kind of faith can really empower the filmmaker. Vishal Menon's Blog. At long last, after years in my mind and 48 hrs on the road, I see the great Himalayas; and I am ….Stupefied… it’s the closest word I can think of, that describes how I feel; The dictionary is more prosaic , it stops short of describing this word like I would; ‘to make stupid’; The ‘been there done that’ fleece wrapped machismo is bruised by the blinding light reflecting off Mt Dronagiri ( dunagiri) at over 7066 mts its snowcapped peak is white to a fault. About 30 Kms from the town of Joshimath (Uttrakhand) at the foot of this imposing mountain, At an altitude of 2500 mts, the rarefied air sucks the wind out of my lungs faster than I can fill it and the effort involved in just breathing leaves my befuddled mind groping in vain for more cliché-defying adjectives. I thus submit and resolve to refrain from describing, any further, the grandeur of these mountains. My foray into the Nandadevi National Park begins at the one mule town of Suraithota, my search for its sole equine resident, to help carry my stuff to Tolma, a village about half a day’s climb from here, is fruitless. It so happens that my visit coincides with the Sikh pilgrimage to Sri Hemkund Sahib and all equines within a 100km radius have been requisitioned to ferry the good humored, burly Sardars upto what is one of the world’s highest places of worship. Suraithota bears a uncanny resemblance to the towns in the old monochrome western flicks, right down to the tones and hues…grey, dusty with harsh highlights and dark shadows, Walking into the local equivalent of the saloon…the tea house…I ask for and find my contact …Govind. Preliminaries are quickly dispensed with as I reconfigure my gear from pack-Mule mode to backpack mode…Govind looks on critically his face that otherwise gives away little, seemed to betray a hint of bemusement. He even let it slip that he was surprised, on learning that Iam neither Bengali nor Firangi . He sportingly hoists the much heavier pack, while I gratefully acknowledge his choice, we make our way out of the Chaai shop. Logistical worries soon get overshadowed by an eerie yet familiar connection to my own hometown, Bangalore, hundreds of yojanas away….Traffic pileup… uncanny as it may seem, I am in the middle of a traffic pile up of Himalayan proportions. We were Smack Bang in the middle of a river of sheep!! Although, road rage is uncommon here, Iam told that those foolhardy enough to interrupt the convoys of army trucks and commuter jeeps in their path usually end up getting eaten; fortunately for the sheep, the convoys of truckers on this occasion were probably vegan!! Suraithota seemed like the only place outside of New Zealand where sheep outnumber people by several orders of magnitude. I even tried counting the sheep in a spirited attempt to wait out the impasse. I watch, the immigrants from Jharkhand, who labor in the thin mountain air, building roads, their protein starved eyes devouring the fat tailed sheep with so much intensity that their form seemed to dissolve into a haze of blood lust. The Shepards bring up the vanguard; they peer around the wheel arches of the waiting trucks to ensure that there are no human predators ready to ambush a passing lamb. Even the otherwise laid back Sheppard dogs pick up on the tension and in response to their masters heightened alert, appear stiff and anxiously steal glances at them, unsure of what to expect. I am intrigued by the spiky metal collars that adorn the necks of these sheep dogs, this evens out the odds of of them surviving a leopard attack, Iam told. The shepards are making their way up the mountains to their summer pastures, their flock consisting of a few kilometers of Sheep and goats, a handful of dogs and a few stunted ponies loaded with tents and supplies are a common sight. The goats also carry little saddle bags of salt a valuable nutritional supplement for the animals. Everything in sight is covered by a patina of fine grey dust, shimmering in the harsh noon light. The air is viscous with dust, diesel fumes, and with the distinctive odor of pheromones released by the Billy goats. The goats are impressive, their long silken hair glistening and helical horns give them an extraordinary, almost regal presence that I have never noticed in goats before. These flock s are led by big strapping Billys’ called “Judas Goats” so termed for the dispassionate ease with which they lead their cerebrally less endowed cousins- the sheep, either up to the pastures or to the butchers yard, the latter being a betrayal, comparable to their, more famous biblical namesake, Judas Iscariot, infamous as he who betrayed his flock. The climb to Tolma was along a path through a pretty Pine forest. We made slow progress as I stopped every few minutes to reach for my camera and snap a few pics, in fact, the added incentive of a chance to catch my breath was just too tempting to pass up. In hindsight, Govind and I did agree that our slow pace was rather fortuitous, when an ominous creak was the only perceptible cue before a huge Deodar (Himalayan Cedar) tree, among thousands around us, gracefully slumped to the ground about 20 mts up the slope, smack in the middle of where we might have been standing. A quick autopsy of the tree revealed that much of its base was burnt to a cinder…presumably by forest fires. The appearance of fruiting trees pointed to people as we went around a bend and took a path flanked by small terraced fields I learnt that farming was restricted to Orchard fruit like apples, peaches, apricots et all and staples such as Barley, Potatoes, amaranth seeds aka Ramdana and of course the ubiquitous Rajma. What was even more interesting was the generous presence of Bear poo or scat, if you prefer. Tolma is a village that belongs to the Bhotiya community, traditionally pastrolists of tibetean stock they are hardy and hospitable people and enjoy such charms as basking in the morning sun and smiling indulgently at strangers passing through. Tolma is the community’s summer home they all have a second home down in the valley so one doesn’t have to deal with the particularly acerbic winters. Tolma was everything that Suraithota wasn’t, the village is as picturesque a Himalayan village as you imagine, This village is the gateway to Nandadevi National park and thanks to the fact that no roads have gotten closer than 4 hours from it, it’s one of those places you wish you would never have to leave. This selling proposition has not been lost on the tolma-ites, If the profusion of accommodation options in the community are anything to go by , The Tourism business has been quick to catch on in Tolma, In fact, there are as many as 5 homes exclusively for tourists and given that only about 25 families make up the settlement …that’s a lot of options. Of course it must be said that some of the quaint cedar –wood houses with slate slab roofs that particularly caught my fancy, were in fact reserved for the village cattle.