Cinema
The Satire of Subhash Kapoor
The one-armed director of Jolly LLB, who has landed the job of helming the third part of the Munna Bhai series, on how he inhales life and exhales cinema
Lhendup G Bhutia
Lhendup G Bhutia
24 Mar, 2013
The one-armed director of Jolly LLB, who has landed the job of helming the third part of the Munna Bhai series, on how he inhales life and exhales cinema
The mannerisms of Subhash Kapoor, director of Phas Gaye Re Obama and Jolly LLB, who will next work on the third instalment of the Munna Bhai series, are less those of a Bollywood director and more those of the journalist he used to be. In his office located in a decrepit Andheri building developed by the Maharashtra Housing and Area Development Authority, he drinks copious amounts of tea and smokes a large number of cigarettes, all bought loose. When he runs out of them, he asks someone to fetch a few more, but never an entire packet. The office itself is bare. There is very little furniture, and even drinking water is got from an upturned Bisleri jar, as opposed to a water purifier. Kapoor has an easygoing air about him. And although he is one-armed, he performs his routine tasks, from lighting a cigarette with a matchstick to driving a car, himself.
Q What did you do before becoming a filmmaker? What drew you towards films?
A I come from a middle-class family in Delhi. For us, back then, you completed your graduation—post graduation, if you were academically inclined— and then landed a government job. But in my college days, I got drawn towards student politics and unions. So after I completed my education (MA in English Literature), because I was inspired by the ideology of Leftist parties, I had this urge to travel to rural areas. I got a job with the National Literacy Mission in Lucknow. And for the next two years, I travelled to various parts of eastern UP. I had always lived in Delhi before this, and travelling in those regions, seeing the poverty [there], was an eye-opener for me.
I later got a job as a journalist with Home TV. I worked with Karan Thapar in those days and mostly covered politics. This went on for a few years. In 2001, along with my wife, I started a production house. I had been close friends with Shoojit Sircar and Dibakar Banerjee from my days at Home TV (Banerjee and Sircar were freelancers who made promos for the channel). Both had ventured into films— Banerjee with Khosla Ka Ghosla and Sircar with Yahaan—and I started to feel the itch too.
Q What happened then?
A I moved to Bombay along with my family to make films. I had never been to a film school, and had little contacts in Bollywood. I also did not want to go through the usual routine of becoming an AD (assistant director) for a few years before a director and producer liked my script and me enough to give me a film. So some of my friends from Delhi and I pooled in money for my first film—Say Salaam India. Back then, I did not even know how one marketed or distributed a film. We were lucky enough to get a distributor (Manmohan Shetty). And we timed the release of the film to coincide with the 2007 World Cup. India, however, crashed out in the first round. And our film opened to empty theatres.
Q How did the idea of Phas Gaye Re Obama (PGRO) occur to you?
A After Say Salaam India, I decided to give directing a shot once again. I wrote the script of Jolly LLB and started fishing for financers. It was 2008-09 then. And all the producers I approached had the same reason for refusing me—the recession. That’s when I thought, ‘Why not make a film around the recession?’
Q Can you tell us how you approach your films? How do you conceive of your characters and situations?
A As the expression goes, I inhale life and exhale cinema. My characters, the way they speak, their dialogues, they all come from some experience I have been through or are reflective of my concerns. Back in my first year of college, I had decided to stand for elections in college. There were around 10 candidates in all. But one candidate, who was some sort of a goon, made everyone else withdraw his/her candidacy. I, the young idealist that I was, refused to do so. On the last day, he roughed me up a bit, after which he took out a knife and said, “Gaand pe itne chaku marunga behenchod, suraak bhool jayega. Ek ghante mein naam withdraw kar” (I’ll poke so many holes in your arse, you’ll forget where your arsehole is located. Withdraw your name in an hour). I promptly took a bus back home and did not come to college the next day. All through that night, I could not stop thinking, ‘Kya line mara usne’ (what a line he used). When I was writing PGRO, I used that line for one character’s dialogue. In fact, that film itself is based on a conversation I had had. I was talking about making a film about the recession with PGRO’s producer Ashok Pandey. His wife was preparing for a journey to some villages in UP then. I remarked jokingly that she should be careful, or she’d be kidnapped. That’s when she said, “That’s alright. We wouldn’t have money to offer in any case.”
Q So what about Jolly LLB?
A I actually have a lawyer friend called Jolly. But this film isn’t about him. I just used his name because I found it unusual. When I was a journalist with Business India TV, in 1998-99, I was covering a few stories which required me to visit Patiala House. That’s when I realised how fascinating courts are. I spent a few days there and came across such unusual stories. The courts are nothing like what we are shown in films. Even back then, I remember thinking, ‘If I ever become a filmmaker, this would be a great setting for a film.’
Q Both PGRO and Jolly LLB are satirical films. Why is satire your preferred genre?
A It certainly seems so. But I don’t know why. Even in college, my favourite authors— one for certain was (Saadat Hasan) Manto—were satirists. Perhaps I’m creatively inclined towards it. Some years ago, I was in a hospital. My father-in-law had just suffered a cardiac arrest. And everyone visiting him was in such a pensive mood. But I found that ward so unusual. There was a sort of hierarchy among patients. One fellow was telling another, “You’ve had just one heart attack? I have had three,” while another would ask, “How many stents do you have?” Nobody found it funny, but I was close to laughing.
Q You are directing the next Munna Bhai film, Munna Bhai Chale Dilli. How did that happen? And did you have to insist that you would write the script?
A Both Rajkumar Hirani and Vidhu Vinod Chopra think that I have the right sensibility to make the next Munna Bhai film. Hirani is currently too busy with another film (Peekay) to start on Munna Bhai. They had a few ideas and thoughts about how the film should progress. But I don’t like to do a film of which I haven’t written the script. It makes me feel like I am not in control. So I told them that. I also told them, “I need some time to see if I can come up with a fresh story. I don’t want to do a film just for the sake of it”. They were a little surprised, I think. They thought I would jump at the opportunity. But I sat mulling the film for about two weeks. And when I finally had an idea, I approached Vidhu. He thankfully liked it.
Q Has the fact that you don’t have an arm ever proven an obstacle for you? (His left hand had to be amputated after he fell off a building and landed on the construction material of another.)
A Oh no, not at all. I lost my arm when I was five. So for me, I have always not had a hand. I learnt to ride a bike in another two years. I was driving by the age of 17. I have driven long distances, like Goa to Bombay and Kashmir to Delhi. I played cricket for my college team. I even had three good-looking girls as my girlfriends before I met my wife. I have never thought of not having a hand as a handicap. Here and there, when people see me driving, they ask, “Sir, yeh aap kaise karte ho?” (Sir, how do you do this?) But I don’t understand the fuss about it.
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