CINEMA
Universal appeal
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ADITI DE writes about a festival of Indian and Bavarian films in Bangalore that transcended cultures and continents.
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A FILM festival loses its festivity without public participation. Especially when held in Bangalore, bypassed by the international cine-festival circuit for over a decade, its isolation enhanced by the cancellation of the International Film Festival of India (IFFI) in 2001 due to drought. Even the local Suchitra Film Society's festival in March 2003, studded with big screen gems, failed to make the grade due to operational glitches that kept viewers at bay. Against this backdrop, the "Made in Bavaria, Made in South India", the Indo-German film festival, took Bangalore by storm from October 31 to November 6.
Brought into being by the local Max Mueller Bhavan, the FilmFernsehFonds Bayern (a Bavarian film-funding institution), and gotoBavaria (the German State's marketing and inward investment agency), supported by the Karnataka and German Governments, the festival proved outstanding from many angles. To Bangaloreans, the free-pass cine-festival allowed access to the non-mainstream moving image in a celebration that transcended cultures and continents. Its nine Bavarian films showcased distinctive genres from German cinema — such as the entertaining 1999 children's film "Annaluise and Anton", directed with sensitivity and sense by Caroline Link, the 1998 spoof on contemporary love by director Marc Rothemund titled "Love Scenes from Planet Earth", and the dazzling 1995 high-speed recording of the legendary Hubert von Goisern's last concert, "Wia die Zeit vergeht". What else was on offer? The touching story of musicians torn apart by politics, Joseph Vilsmaier's 1997 "Comedian Harmonists", based on a true life Nazi era story. Oliver Hirschbiegel's "The Experiment" (2001), chilling testimony to a routine research exercise in prison that veers out of control, crafted with consummate skill. And a more visually ordinary look at small town politics through Thomas Kronthaler's "The Hypocrites" (2001).
Its south Indian selections were distinctive for their deep roots in local culture, with varying degrees of universal appeal. Culled from the best of regional fare, it included the legendary Adoor Gopalakrishnan's slow-paced, visually repetitive 2002 musings on an executioner's fate, "Nizhalkkuthu" (Shadow Kill). Definitely not on par with "Swayamvaram". And Mani Rathnam's overly dramatic, lengthy plea for peace, "Kannathil Muttumittal", made two years ago. And Janaki Viswanathan's "Kutty" (2001), K.N.T. Sastry's "Tiladaanam" (2001), G. Neelakanta Reddy's "Show" (2002), Lingadevaru's "Mouni" (2002) and Kavita Lankesh's "Deveeri" (2001).
The choices, to this film buff, highlighted alternate aspects of the cinematic art, beyond song-and-dance routines and big budget stars, especially through five movies. The inaugural film, Link's "Nowhere in Africa", for one. To the organisers' delight, it won an Oscar for Best Foreign Film after they had zoomed in on it to open with. It proved the director's versatility, her conceptual skills and eye for visual detail through a narrative of individual cultural metamorphosis, through layered journeys. Though the screenplay took a rather black-and-white overview of African lifestyles, its unravelling was impeccable. The characters morph into other beings through exquisite close-ups, revealing onscreen conversational battles, and picturesque encounters against untamed landscapes. It brought the viewer into a head-on collision with an inescapable question: What is civilisation?
Shaji Karun's in-depth Malayalam lyrical exploration of sadness proved essentially dramatic in "Vanaprastham" (1999). The key to its success was Mohanlal, an actor nonpareil, in the central role of a low-caste artist who transcends his origins as a Kathakali superstar, only to be felled by the love of a princess. "Vaya Con Dios" (Go with God), Zoltan Spirandelli's 2002 venture, was, to quote him, a "clerical road movie". In it, three monks cloistered in Cantorian retreat, whose communion with god is through sound, undertake a journey through our world en route to another monastery. Inevitably, their novel experiences transform them both spiritually and physically — through encounters with technology, love, greed and scholasticism.
Worlds away, "Tattoo" (2002) redefined the screen thriller with style. Directed by Robert Schwentke, it recasts the detective narrative through a gore-riddled, graphically detailed trail to the collector of live human tattoos. Its tale within a tale unmasks the inner lives of the cops on the homicide beat, while in the hot pursuit mode. Replete with unpredictable turns, it uses zoom and dolly shots to enhance suspense, to create a film that's Hitchcock without the master's subtlety.
Kannada director Girish Kasaravalli's "Dweepa'"won us over for essentially human reasons. His rudimentary rural plot allowed for interfaces with character, with counterpoint, with narrative interplay. Distinguished by an unforgettable performance by veteran actor Vasudeva Rao, its inner and outer landscapes reflected each other between frames, searing the inner eye with their testimony.
How can alternate films combat the dominant mainstream? By creating a parallel circuit, a distinctive audience, a marketable language? These issues hovered in the air throughout the screenings.
What did this non-competitive event set out to achieve? Juliane Stegner, director of Bangalore's Max Mueller Bhavan and the event's chief coordinator, explains, "We felt it might foster relations between film professionals in south India and Bavaria, by showing the Germans the non-mainstream films produced here. If sponsorships come in, we could make this an annual event."
Kasaravalli, responsible for the film selection, stresses, "A festival offers us a chance to dialogue with other cultures. We realised how similar the plight of the Bavarian and Kannada film industry was, in competition with Hollywood and Bollywood respectively. In the face of this dominant culture, it is important for us to retain our plurality." Significantly, he adds, "I'd term this a theme festival, not an international one."
No matter what the nomenclature, the teeming crowds at each screening, the issues raised at each discussion, proved a fact beyond dispute. That this was essentially a people's festival, when Bangalore held its own as a cine-celebrant.
Bangaloreans would will this to be an annual event. Any takers on the sponsorship front?
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