Not just Mrs Aamir Khan

(Published in Sakal Times on June 23)
Kiran Rao is distinctly her own self — enormous talent, intelligence, warmth, simplicity all packed into one small frame. After directing the much-acclaimed Dhobhi Ghaat, she is now presenting Anand Gandhi’s debut feature film Ship Of Theseus. In a free-flowing chat with Renu Dhole, she talks about her passion for cinema, bringing up son Azaad and co-existing with mainstream Bollywood

It’s great that you’re backing a film that would’ve found it hard to get a release in India, given the fact that the audience here is not exposed to alternative, independent voices like Anand’s. But a lot of the press around the movie is now calling it Kiran Rao’s Ship of Theseus. When you associated yourself with the film, did you ever fear that your name would overshadow the filmmaker’s?

There was that concern, yes. I was worried that might happen. But it was short-lived. Anand has a unique voice. I may be better known, so perhaps it’s easier to connect my name to the film. But once you watch the trailers, once you reach the theatre, you’ll see that this is completely his film. I can’t take away from what is entirely his credit. My association with the film wasn’t planned. I just happened to see the film and it turned out to be such a beautiful, complete film, you can tick all the boxes — novel idea, great cinematography, great writing? Check. Check. Check. It has a very strong philosophical core that the audience can unravel in their minds over time, that perhaps demands repeat viewing. It’s not for easy consumption. You’ll have to step out of your comfort zone to engage with the film. I knew this is the kind of film that needs nurturing. I initially doubted the difference that an individual could make, and my ability to do it as well. But whatever little goodwill or celeb quotient I have, I thought the film could make use of that.

Now that you’ve stepped into it, do you plan to carry forward your support for meaningful, independent cinema in any serious way?

I’ve not planned to do it in any long term way. I’ll see the outcome of this, first. Also, I have such a limited bandwidth, being a mother and a filmmaker wanting to tell stories myself. But if the need arises, if there’s something really great that needs to be supported and nobody is doing it, I’ll definitely do it.

You are giving this film a limited release, but the online ‘vote for the film in your city’ is a an interesting strategy. Do alternative films need alternative methods of distribution?

Definitely. Filmmakers also have to realise is that the scenario is changing. We need to look beyond theatrical releases and explore other avenues of exhibiting films like online distribution. For someone sitting in Jamshedpur, there should be other options to see good films than torrent downloads; and it’s patronising to assume that good cinema is received only in big cities. Also life has changed so much. People sometimes even miss watching a film that they really want to, in the theatres. And then it’s gone in a matter of weeks. Films, like books, should have a longer life and the filmmaker should be able to earn from it for a long time. I realised that more people watched Dhobhi Ghaat on flights rather than the theatres. So we can’t shy away from these alternatives. Also, getting a big release is very hard — there’s a big machinery that goes into it. And not all films can bring in the box office numbers in spite of being good films. It’s actually been a passion project for me — finding alternative exhibition spaces for different kinds of cinema. There are so many preview theatres, halls that are lying dormant. Could we make use of such spaces — clubs, theatres — where you pay a small amount and enjoy good films? We need to explore that.

You speak so passionately about cinema. Does motherhood, which is equally emotionally consuming, ever conflict with your love for films, your aspirations as a filmmaker?

It’s a tricky thing you know. Life is certainly richer, happier because of my son. Had I not loved films so much, I would’ve probably spent all my time with him, taking him along to enjoy the beautiful greenery in the monsoon. But I realise that I won’t be a happy person if I did only that. Films are what drive me. So I’m trying to see how to balance it out. But if it comes to a toss-up, I have no doubts which side will win. I’ve not gone there yet. Luckily for me, this is not a 9 to 5 job. And I have the infrastructure at home, with my husband and mother in law…I can leave him at home reassured that he will be taken good care of. But yes, writing is difficult. It’s difficult to find that space in your mind again, to immerse yourself completely into something, to leave everything behind. You wonder if you’ve begun to lose that edge — that’s a fear with all of us. So in October last year, I got back to reading old books, trying to find ways to get the writing started. But with motherhood, all these things, these spaces in your mind, turn into mush — though it’s a happy mush.

Do you ever see yourself directing a film without writing it yourself?

I’ve begun to think that is a possibility now. The writing has to be superlative enough to make me want to direct it — and that’s rare. Also, I’ve realised that I don’t make films to just make films. I make films so that I can write, I can immerse myself in music, I can think about how to shoot it. It’s a coming together of all the things that I love about the creative process.

When it comes to writing or directing, your sensibilities remain very unconventional vis a vis mainstream Bollywood. Is it difficult to retain them when you’re surrounded by company that represents everything you are not?

I remember feeling a bit out of the mould initially when I was exposed to this company. But I would observe and learn from this exposure to different people. It wasn’t that difficult. Being in strange company went on to add layers to my understanding of human nature. Also, I have to say, it did change my attitude to the mainstream. I was a hardcore film school person dismissive of the mainstream. But I have come to learn that different things drive different people. And of course, age has made me more understanding of different people in the industry. I am however critical of the fact that there is not enough rigour, not enough engagement with the craft of filmmaking that’s practised in the industry. People are in awe of 3 Idiots because it had great content and did so well commercially. But Raju spent 2 years working on the script. You have to give it that kind of time. Most people in the industry I feel are happy to make movies without giving it that kind of time and thought.

Being surrounded by mainstream Bollywood also comes with its own pressures. Was it difficult to be different, to hold your own, when all you are expected to do is augment your star husband’s identity?

I used to be amused at the kind of attention my clothes, my looks attracted initially. Fashion wags telling me how to dress, film magazines advising me what kind of films I should make — it used to amuse me. But then I understood that being the companion of a much-adored figure in the industry makes curiosity natural. It didn’t affect me deeply though. I of course realise the responsibility of being seen with Aamir — I have to maintain the dignity of public life. I can’t go and just do my own thing — I feel protective of his stature. But now I don’t mind dressing up and going out — why not? I’m enjoying it, as long as nobody is asking me to wear a gown! (laughs)

When do we see you directing next?
I’m working on a script, yes. But let’s see when it happens. Writing is a little slow now.