Too fat! I felt nauseated,” said an award-winning producer, as he came out of the theatre nodding his head in dismissal. We were at a Salt Lake lab, where the closed-door show of Icche was being held ahead of its release on July 15, 2011. The film marked Nandita Roy and my debut as directors and came at a time when we had almost lost all hopes of it seeing the light of day. But Didi and I were far from discouraged; by then, we were immune to brutal remarks that came to us in plenty.
The germ of casting the powerhouse performer, Sohini Sengupta, goes back to an evening stroll at Deshapriya Park, where a mother in mismatched clothes and unkempt hair was dragging her child along, as they spoke about the latter’s school that day and how her dreams were shattered by whatever he did. I ran to Didi’s house, which was a stone’s throw from Deshapriya Park and told her about the mother. We felt Sohini would be perfect for the role. And we did what we felt — went ahead and cast her in the mother-son relationship tale. Samadarshi Dutta was cast as the son. Thereafter, it was a roller-coaster ride.
I remember having a hearty conversation with Rituparna Sengupta, who came out in full support of the film and was its presenter, the subsequent meetings that she fixed up and the endless waiting game that followed. Among the many meetings I attended, one was with a producer who was vehemently opposed to the idea of casting a woman, who was on the plumper side, as the mother. “There are so many pretty actresses, who are slim and attractive. Why don’t you rework on your casting and get back to me?” went the producer. But the film had to be with Sohini or NOT be. We couldn’t imagine anyone else as the mother, powerful and dominating, whose world centred around her son. It took us eight years to make the film happen and another three years to bring it to the theatres.
A moment from Icche
On the night of the release, a National Award-winning director called up to say we had taken a big risk by not casting a glamorous lead. “Fatka khelechhish,” were his exact words, and he added that if this works, the film would go on to win hearts. By God’s grace, it did. The film ran successfully for 100 days and was talked about for its content and realistic casting. The same director called up four weeks later and said, “You must tell the media that I was the first one to have predicted the film’s success.” The producer who called the mother in my film ‘fat’, offered us four films and the one who asked us to get back to him after casting a glamorous lead still regrets not doing the film. But I am glad we could stick to our conviction even when we had zero resources to make a film.
Now years later, both Didi and I are thankful that Icche happened the way it happened. So, when we first heard the story of Fatafati, it made me remember my first outing as a filmmaker. At the core, Fatafati is a middle-class love story and how the woman realises her dreams while not conforming to the societal standards of beauty. It’s good fun. But the fun is not directed at a few, but the audience in general.
I am sure everyone who sees the film will be able to relate to at least one character in Fatafati. Also, a decade later, I am hoping the eyes that see a film now have also matured and we don’t see anyone on screen as fat or slim, but as the character portrayed, even though body shaming is a deep-rooted problem. Even now when I meet someone after a gap, he tells me if I’ve put on or reduced. I can easily replace my weighing scale with intermittent gatherings, as that is still the easiest way to figure out about the way I look. It’s the same with most people in the city. Just that not many ask about the other’s health, both physical and mental. If we do this, we’ll start a far more meaningful dialogue.
Shiboprosad Mukherjee is an Indian Bengali film-maker, actor and screenwriter.
