‘Punjabi cinema lacks conviction’

Nonika Singh talks to Rajeev Sharma Punjabi filmmaker who won a National Award

“I don’t make films for festivals nor for money.” With these words filmmaker Rajeev Sharma takes a well-deserved bow. As his debut film Nabar picks up the National Award for the best Punjabi film, an honour that comes to Punjabi cinema only once in a while, he looks back at his journey in the arc lights that started with theatre. An alumnus of the Department of Indian Theatre, Panjabi University, Chandigarh, his theatre group Lok Kala Manch Mandi Mullanpur, Ludhiana district, is set to celebrate its silver jubilee this year. While theatre remains his first love, his career graph has seen him halting at senior positions with many television channels. Last year his short film Aatu Khoji won critical acclaim. He made documentaries on Punjab’s revolutionary poet Avtar Pash and the famous dhadi singer Idu Sharif. He is looking ahead at another film Rakaan-s and is neither eyeing houseful theatres nor film festivals. A director who asserts he is not a festival kind of director, Sharma dedicates his National Award to those who have dared to fight injustice. He talks of the award and the kind of cinema he believes in. Excerpts:
Do you think two National Awards in a row for Punjabi films will open doors for other filmmakers?
I can’t say for sure whether Gurvinder Singh’s film Anhey Ghode Da Daan last year and mine picking up the National Award this year will set a new trend of meaningful films in Punjabi cinema, but yes my short film Aatu Khoji did inspire many youngsters to work in the realm of short films.
Why did you feel the need to switch to feature film?
After watching Aatu Khoji many viewers felt that the film was good but too brief. Perhaps audiences in India are trained to watch longer films and feel a trifle dissatisfied with a shorter format and hunger for a longer run time.
What clinched the award in your favour?
I think it’s the subject and the music as I used Gurbani and gave it a contemporary twist.
Your film deals with immigration racket, a problem that has devastated many families in Punjab. How did you think of making a film on this?
Herein I owe a debt of gratitude to journalists. Reading a newspaper report about a High Court judgment on the murder of a young boy duped by illegal travel agents set me thinking. The fight of the old man who had lost his son truly moved and impelled me. Thereafter, I wrote the script and the screenplay.
Was finance a big issue?
Indeed it was, to begin with. Whoever I approached, pressured me to take big actors and make a commercial film. I did toy with the idea of casting the singing icon Gurdas Maan. But ultimately after finding my producer in Jasbir Singh Derewa, I settled for lesser-known actors. The best compliment I have received so far is “your actors look like characters”.
Is it difficult to market such films?
Making a film is only 25 per cent of the job. The real crux lies in how to take it to people. But I must clarify that I am not looking at screening my films in multiplexes which cater to the urban and neo-urban audiences. My exhibitors are not cinema people. I have made this film for the common man who lives in villages. Since he can’t afford high-priced tickets, I intend to reach out to him. Actually, I am in the midst of evolving an alternative system of distribution.
Today Punjabi cinema seems to be in an exciting phase and new films are being announced every other day. What is your take on the Punjabi film industry?
It’s not a cinema of conviction, but that of bhed chaal and fads. Sure, a few films did good business but many have flopped too. Anyway it’s the kind of cinema that doesn’t interest me at all.
How would you describe your film?
It’s serious cinema with a purpose through which I hope to inspire not other makers, but the common people.
Do you feel bogged down by the weight of expectations after the National Award?
Not in the least. I have already moved on to my next film Rakaan-s, an ode to women that will bring together narratives of four women and deal with burning issues of drug abuse, land-grab and also a flashback to the ’84 riots. Through my films I also intend to create a dialogue between the urban and rural populace. I think the urban class must empathise with the man living in villages whose reality is very different.
You pick unusual names for you films. Any particular reason?
Yes. nabar means rebel and rakaan in Punjabi refers to a woman with an attitude, a dare and an independent mind. These words are no longer heard. Through my films I want to save words that are fast vanishing from our language.
Will you always make films in Punjabi?
In all likelihood, yes.

(With thanks from The Tribune, March 24, 2013)