Tuesday, 24 December 2024
Tuesday, 24 December 2024
On the afternoon of December 30 six years ago, Mrinal Sen died in Calcutta. Being in Mumbai, I was asked to get in touch with three people — Shabana Azmi, Naseeruddin Shah and Shyam Benegal – and get them to speak on the just departed filmmaker.
Azmi and Shah, both frequent collaborators with Benegal, were prompt in their responses, while Shyam babu – as he was called by everyone – said he was busy that Sunday afternoon. He asked me if I could please call him in a day or two.
In a newspaper, a day is already too late. It made no sense telling that to the octogenarian filmmaker. I said, “It is all right, sir.” I went on to tell him I had met him 13 years ago at the Taj Bengal in Calcutta. He of course could not recall. But since then we stayed in touch.
I made it a point to wish him happy birthday every December 14. Even if a day or two late, he would always reply. This year when he turned 90, I wished him. There was no reply. There will never be one.
Shyam babu made films about India. This country – its contradictions, hope and hopelessness, drudgery, exploitation, oppression – was what Shyam babu explored in all his films, whether they were about a milk cooperative (Manthan), a female actor from the 30s and 40s of the previous decade (Bhumika), a den of prostitutes (Mandi), everywhere Shyam babu was looking for India.
He was asking questions in a manner that others were not comfortable with, though they were also asking the same question, differently.
Exactly 50 years ago, Shyam babu burst into Hindi cinema with Ankur. Not mainstream. Artsy, in fact. Just like Mani Kaul and Kumar Shahani and to a certain extent Awtar Krishna Kaul (whose 27 Down was released the same year as Ankur) Shyam babu was breaking stereotypes.
His protagonists were angry, but not like the Vijay Vermas and Khannas as seen in the “angry young man” films in the early 70s. The anger was quite unlike those seen in the “escapist” fare that came across the Hindi films of that era popularised by the Salim-Javed duo.
The first two feature films – Shyam babu was already a well-known advertising and documentary filmmaker before – Ankur and Nishant were largely influenced by his upbringing in Hyderabad (now in Telangana), a largely feudal society carrying on with the legacy of the Nizam’s.
The shape that Ankur took gives an insight into the mind of the young Shyam babu. He wrote it as a short story for his college magazine and later turned into a script. The idea of Ankur came from a visit to a farm owned by the family of one of his friends in college.
Shyam babu could see for himself the patriarchy, the tyranny of the feudalistic system and the oppressed classes, which became integral to his films.
When he started out as an independent filmmaker, Shyam babu wanted to develop his own language of cinema, free from any tradition, including that of his cousin, Guru Dutt, or Satyajit Ray, whom he greatly admired for breaking with tradition.
Shyam babu regarded Ray as an inspiration but never copied him in any aspect of filmmaking. That is what made him stand out among all the filmmakers of what came to be called the New Wave in Indian cinema.
Shyam babu also provided the opportunity to one of India’s finest actors – and a star nonetheless – to get involved in “meaningful” cinema. Shashi Kapoor was no stranger to the “other” kind of cinema, having been a part of the Merchant-Ivory camp as well as his own exposure to theatre with Geoffrey Kendall and his touring theatre company.
The two had an extremely satisfying partnership cinematically with Junoon and Kalyug, the latter possibly one of the finest interpretations of the Mahabharat with an ensemble cast set in the corporate background.
Shyam babu made films only when he had the complete freedom to choose the subject. It did not matter to him whether the money for the film came from Shashi Kapoor (Junoon and Kalyug) or the Ambanis (Zubeida).
When he decided to make Manthan, five lakh farmers in Gujarat each offered Rs 2 to the film and then went in droves to the theatre, making it a box-office success.
Similarly, for Susman, the handloom workers’ association had chipped in. The box-office and even artistic impact of Susman was not quite the same as Manthan from the previous decade.
Two of his finest works came in the national television Doordarshan, both in the ’80s. The first was based on Jawahar Lal Nehru’s Discovery of India, called Bharat: Ek Khoj which was aired on Sunday afternoons.
The second was based on an armyman’s travels using the backbone of India, the railways, titled simply Yatra with the late Om Puri. It would air every Friday at 9pm.
Shyam Benegal gave India some of the finest actors to have ever emerged. Shabana Azmi, Naseerudin Shah, Om Puri, Smita Patil and others.
Shyam babu went on making films irrespective of their impact on the box office. The last film he made was in Bengali, a biopic on Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. He had two or three more ideas when age and chronic kidney ailment caught up with him.
