Kanu Behl interview: ‘Films like Pushpa are morphine to the masses, anti-healing’

In an interview with The Federal, Behl explains why he is constantly drawn to edgy characters on the verge of a meltdown. In Behl’s earlier film Titli too, the protagonist (Shashank Arora) is shown at that breaking point, where he wants to dump his two brutish brothers involved in carjacking and bloody violence. Behl finds it exciting to capture characters on the brink, when they are going through an upheaval. “It’s what we call ‘manthan’ (churn) or when people are at the cusp of change. I like to catch the character at that stage, then it gives the possibility for the viewer to attach themselves to their journey. This desperation and nakedness helps the audience to connect,” he explains.

The faceless villain of real life

For Behl, most of us are journeying in this ‘dark and desperate’ space but hate to acknowledge it. There are no Ramas walking on this earth in Behl’s world willing to take on an evil Ravan. In Despatch too, Joy is not about to expose the wrongdoings of one corrupt guy but is instead battling an ‘obtuse, foggy’ criminal world where the real villains remain hazy and unidentifiable. The film, initially stirred by Bengaluru journalist Gauri Lankesh’s murder, does not aim to unmask a villain’s identity at the end.

While doing extensive research on the infamous Mumbai underworld, which was once dominated by dreaded gangs led by notorious dons like Dawood Ibrahim and Chhota Rajan, the director found the “real world” is now peopled with villains who remain faceless and “hidden”. No one today will ever know who is involved in a particular crime or killing in Mumbai or why it was committed, he says emphatically, pointing out that this is what his Despatch co-writer and he discovered after one and a half years talking to lawyers, crime journalists and the police.

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So, while watching Despatch, if you find the story careening down a rabbit hole, with no end in sight, Behl suggests not to chase the plot. “The plot kahin jaata nahin (does not go anywhere) so no point following the story,” he points out. Instead, the gaze is fixed unrelentingly on Joy’s inner turmoil as he chases his big crime story to get back in the reckoning in his job. Behl evocatively describes it as a “Faustian journey of a modern coward who is selfish and greedy” ready to go to any lengths to achieve what he wants. Behl is more keen on character studies, on how his characters behave when they are shoved in the deep end. So, the reference to T20 corporate honchos, key figures hiding in London or real estate thugs are just red herrings that really lead nowhere.

On the intimate scenes

Behl also uses explicit sex scenes between Joy and his women in Despatch to get into the skin of the characters, he claims. In Behl’s view, when two characters are in such an intimate space, it is hard for them to lie in front of the camera and as a result to the audience. “As long as I am not being exploitative, I do not want to miss out on the opportunity to put my audience right there like a fly on the wall to watch a very intimate scene between two people and how they play with each other. This then gives them the best insight into the character,” explains Behl.

How did Bajpayee react to the sex scenes? (Bajpayee had complained at a film festival that he had to do 40 retakes for these scenes which left him with a sore back!) Behl replies, “He’s so completely open. Manoj doesn’t walk into a set with any agenda but to make the best version of the film he has signed up for. Nothing else is at play. I had no challenges here as he is someone who is as interested in exploring and pushing the boundaries.”

His favourite scene in Despatch with Manoj is the one at the end, when Joy is cornered and completely alone inside the confines of a taxi and he starts to howl. “I was bowled over by that scene, amazed at how Manoj can be so emotionally naked, so vulnerable and for being such an honest actor who completely plugs himself into the moment,” he adds.

Hindi cinema in crisis

Behl admits that Hindi cinema is going through one of its worst phases and it is not a ‘pretty sight’. There is a “broader crisis” facing Hindi cinema, especially independent cinema, he says. “The problem is that resources are concentrated in the hands of a few people and it’s these people who are taking decisions on what the larger masses can see, say or cannot say. In this situation, we are looking at a forced dumbing down of films to achieve a complete subjugation at an intellectual level,” he adds. However, he is also largely hopeful that these things are cyclical and eventually there will be a tipping point. It is just a matter of when, he reckons.

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On the trend of independent films taking the route of showcasing their films at international festivals, Behl, whose Titli was also first screened at festivals, says, “For a small film, to open at a film fest is a good weapon to have in your arsenal. Independent films don’t have good commercial heft and they find it hard to get their films to see the light of day in India. Countries like France, Germany and the US have a certain system to help a certain quality to thrive, in the absence of that festivals become a jumping point for independent films.”

On the dominance of South films

Behl also slams the trend in Indian cinema to push for “event-based films” today or what he terms the ‘Pushpa syndrome’. “A false narrative is built around cinema to go and watch films for pure entertainment and leave your brains behind. This Pushpa syndrome feeds into the over-simplified films we had in the 1970s. Everything is dumbed down and sold as some sort of morphine to the public to run away from their problems.”

However, Behl, who is a product of the Satyajit Ray Film and Television institute, feels this morphine-addiction actually exacerbates the problem. “There is a reason human beings need to feel a certain catharsis, if we are going to deny that catharsis, not wanting to live any sort of discomfort away from our real life, how are we going to heal ourselves?” he asks.

“This Pushpa syndrome in cinema is anti-healing,” he asserts, designed to keep wounds raw and to keep people hurting. “While hurting, people look for numbing experiences and as a result no healing is happening,” he says. However, this is luckily only one kind of south film as good things are happening in parallel with Malayalam cinema, which is worth watching and is reinvigorating. Malayalam cinema has built a successful economic independent cinema model which is thriving due to a sensitive audience as well, he says. “While Hindi cinema is floundering with a resurgence of the banal films of the 80s, the wheel will have to turn…sometime.”