Jhilli (Discards), the directorial debut of strapping young filmmaker Ishaan Ghose, bagged the Golden Royal Bengal Tiger in the International Cinema section classified under Innovation in Moving Images at the 27th Kolkata International Film Festival that ended on 1 May.
Ishaan Ghose is a grounded young man who stepped into direction at the not-so-young age of 35. He also bears a cross, if one may call it that, of being the son of renowned filmmaker Goutam Ghose who has bagged awards left, right and centre, both nationally and internationally.
Ishaan did his first independent work as cinematographer for his father’s film Shankhachil (2016). Besieged by the media and showered with praise at the festival, the filmmaker still made time for an interview for Cinestaan.com. Excerpts:
What were you doing before you debuted as an independent director?
It took me 12 years of work in different situations, shooting documentaries, advertisements and feature films, to get to a place where I felt I have practised my craft enough to begin working on something with which I can express myself wholly. I also feel that as a filmmaker, the most important thing is to experience life and share your feelings and thoughts with people. Filmmaking to me is very personal.
How was the chemistry like when you were working with your father?
It was very enriching and encouraging. Most importantly, it was always about the craft.
Did your father’s being a much-awarded and internationally recognized filmmaker create any kind of pressure or motivation for you?
This thought never occurred to me, as we have been a travelling family making films and I have been experiencing this all my life. As for my father, awards were always like rewards for honest hard work. Awards and accolades were never the real motivation. I feel the same too.
What is the reason for naming your film Jhilli?
One of our main characters to me in the film is a bone factory adjoining the Dhapa dump yard. All the carcasses of the city are brought there and then their bones are separated from the flesh and thrown inside a specific machine. The bones get crushed, the skin and cartilage are separated from the fine bone grain, which becomes the final product used for many purposes. The part left out while grinding is called Jhilli.
You belong to a close-knit, upper-middle-class Bengali family living in the upwardly mobile South Kolkata neighbourhood. How were you pulled to a documentary on a Tiljala ragpicker? Please also tell us why the concept did not happen.
As a filmmaker, it does not matter where I come from; the only true motivation is to discover life as much as possible, and our job is to find stories that need to be told.
Coming from a better situation, the responsibility is more to share and discover human suffering and uncover things that are kept hidden.
I started working with an NGO [non-governmental organization] in 2016 with my sister Anandi to document the ragpickers around the Tiljala area. We shot a lot and spent a lot time with them. Unfortunately, the NGO had some issues legally, so we had to discontinue.
Dhapa is a place shunned by everyone. We cover our noses whenever we pass by. It offers the worst to any filmmaker in terms of sound, visuals, plotline, music, etc. So, why Dhapa?
That was the real motivation: discomfort. Firstly, I wanted to get into a world I am not familiar with, completely different from my past experience. It was about the suffering of people working there in a city where there is a Trump Tower just 2km away from the dump yard.
I also feel that to create anything memorable and worthwhile, discomfort, apart from physical and mental endurance, is the most important thing. The whole process was like my own endurance test, wading through obstacles and surviving it.
There is a story hiding under that massive dump? How and when did you conceive it?
I started visiting Dhapa and doing research work right after the Tiljala documentary had to be dropped. There were so many layers in this world which had not been documented before. I jumped right into it and it became an obsession to find truth.
Who wrote the script?
Initially there was no script and we started shooting with the actors, giving them physical work and exploring the place, shooting the film like a documentary.
Then I felt that creating characters and giving them things to say and building a narrative is important to create an emotional connection. So, I always had a script in my mind. Each day of the shoot, I would tell my actors about the situation and give them things to do. Slowly, with the process, editing and finding things, I developed some storylines and kept shooting. This was the basic process.
Has your father's method of working influenced you in any way?
I learnt from him the value of discipline, of preparation, and the importance of research.
What is your definition of cinema?
The definition of cinema for me is to experience life to the fullest, and share your own joy and sorrow with your fellow humans. I feel that is what inspires us to watch cinema, more than anything. It speaks a lot about the filmmaker.
What does this prestigious award mean to you? Pressure? A boost? A fear to sustain the unique perspective you have set in your next films? All of these?
Above anything else, this award is a great validation point for independent filmmakers and cinema. This has given me a lot of faith on following my heart and instincts and being true to myself. We all are longing for appreciation and love, that is why we make or create anything. It is that shared experience that we seek.
The boy who plays the main role in Jhilli, is he a natural picked from the neighbourhood or a trained actor?
His name is Aranya Gupta (Bokul). He is my friend’s brother, a painter. He had never acted before.
What problems — physical, social, personal, local, legal, since your setting is Dhapa — did you have to face while shooting and cutting the film?
I made the film very discreetly. No one knew about the process apart from my family. A lot happens in four or five years in someone’s life. I have no complaints, only gratefulness.
Any censorship issues?
We got our censorship done. We got an 'A' certificate. We had to cut a few shots, nothing major.
How long did it take from conception to screen?
From February 2017 to June 2021. In between, there was a long gap of inactivity with the film, but I guess it all counts.
Your entire family is steeped in cinema. Is that a pressure or a boost or both, in different ways?
It is really inspiring that we follow a path that’s uncertain together.
Who are your icons in cinema — Bengali, Bollywood, documentary, international?
Bengali cinema: Mrinal Sen, Ritwik Ghatak, Goutam Ghose; Bollywood: Guru Dutt, Kishore Kumar; documentary: Louis Malle, Tony Gatlif, Werner Herzog; international: Charlie Chaplin, Stanley Kubrick, Andrei Tarkovsky, Wong Kar Wai.
Which are your father's five best films according to you, and why?
Hungry Autumn (1974), it was his first independent work; Maa Bhoomi (1979), because of the subject and doing something totally out of comfort zone; Paar (1984), the gold standard of new wave cinema in India; Bismillah Khan documentary, for documenting and filming the wisdom of Bismillah Khan; Dekha (2001): pure cinema.