Suresh Urs interview: ‘Frames that move in succession open up another world before me’

It wasn’t a burning childhood ambition that set Urs — the winner of five Karnataka State Film Awards, two Tamil Nadu State Film Awards and Lifetime Achievement Award by the Karnataka Government — on this path. Instead, it was a twist of fate. “I never harboured a dream of becoming a film editor. To be honest, I am an accidental film editor,” Urs admits with a candidness that belies his status. Yet, despite the serendipity of his career path, Urs speaks of his profession with a fascination that borders on the poetic. “Frames that move in succession never tire me. They mystify me and open up another world before me,” he says, encapsulating the enchantment that keeps him tethered to the editing table, day in and day out.

Urs’ first National Award came nearly 29 years ago for Mani Ratnam’s Bombay, a film that remains a touchstone in Indian cinema. And just when the world might have thought Urs had already peaked, he surprised everyone by clinching another National Award for Best Editing for Madhyantara (2020), Shenoy’s non-feature debut short.

This latest accolade, Urs admits, was “totally unexpected.” In a world where predictability often reigns, Urs’s career is a testament to the magic of the unforeseen. His journey, marked by an unplanned start and sustained by a deep love for the craft, is a story of passion meeting destiny. And if you ask him, he’s not done yet. “I want to breathe my last on the editing table,” he says with a wry smile, an artist committed to his work until the final cut.

A cut above the rest

Urs, who has evolved from wielding scissors in the era of celluloid to mastering the mouse in today’s digital world, has sat behind countless editing tables since he first edited Teesri Cheet, a Konkani film, 47 years ago. From the best works of Girish Karnad and Girish Kasaravalli to Shankar Nag and Mani Ratnam, his touch has been relentless and precise. Though his entry into the world of film editing was accidental, Urs has proven time and again that sometimes fate knows best. He has received accolades for his work, but perhaps his greatest achievement is the quiet, unshakable dedication he brings to his craft every single day.

When The Federal visited him at Chamundeshwari Studio on Cunningham Road in Bengaluru, Urs was, unsurprisingly, immersed in editing. Over the years, he has not only honed his skills but also developed a deep spiritual maturity. As he recited the Bhagavad Gita’s sloka — “Karmanyevaadhikaraste Maa Phaleshu Kadachana” (“You have a right to perform your prescribed duty, but you are not entitled to the fruits of action. Never consider yourself to be the cause of the results of your activities”) — it was clear that Urs had long adopted the philosophy of doing the work for the love of it, rather than for the recognition it might bring.

“After a few disappointments, I stopped expecting awards and rewards,” he said with a calm smile. The National Award for Madhyantara caught him completely off guard. “When someone called to inform me, initially, I didn’t believe it. When it was confirmed, reality slowly sank in. Of course, I am happy. I am getting a National Award for the second time in my career as a film editor,” he added, the smile still lingering.

His debt to the masters

Urs is as unpretentious as they come, a trait that traces itself perhaps to his humble background. He didn’t study the craft at any film institute; rather, he taught himself — an autodidact in the truest sense. His childhood, by his own account, was “not particularly special.” As the second eldest in a family of farmers, he spent his early years tending to cattle and working the fields. “I was born and brought up in Kolagala village in Heggadadevanakote taluk of Mysuru district. I learned my alphabets in the premises of a temple,” Urs recalls with a hint of nostalgia. The image of him crossing the Kapila River to take his Class 7 exam speaks volumes about the simplicity and determination of his youth.

Life took a dramatic turn when his father, driven by vice, sold the family land. Urs, unwilling to stand by, fought with his father and left home in search of a job. His cousin, the noted actor and dubbing artist Sundar Krishna Urs, was then working for a film company in Mysuru and offered young Suresh a chance to assist the cinematographer, Madhusudhan. It was in these early years, working as a clapperboard operator and continuity writer, that Urs began to learn the language of cinema. He gained more hands-on experience assisting Telugu film editor Hanumantha Rao. “Later, I was asked to assist Umesh Kulkarni, who was editing Girish Kasaravalli’s Ghatashraddha and Balu Mahendra’s Kokila,” he says.

When Kulkarni declined to edit Teesri Cheet, Urs took on the project with whatever skills he had pieced together along the way. The industry took notice, and soon he found himself editing a Tulu film produced and directed by Sundar Krishna Urs. “It was S. Ramachandra, who is my ‘Guru’ in understanding the value of visuals and assembling them in accordance with the spirit of the script,” Urs says, crediting the veteran cinematographer for shaping his artistic vision.

In the years that followed, Urs split his time between Chennai and Bengaluru, working on films across languages — Kannada, Tamil, Telugu, and Malayalam. His body of work includes collaborations with some of Indian cinema’s greatest maestros, including Girish Karnad, Girish Kasaravalli, Mani Ratnam, T.S. Nagabharana, and Shankar Nag. What sets these collaborations apart is the creative freedom these directors granted him. “The maestros are the ones who gave freedom to their artists and technicians to do their best and not just conform to the script,” Urs explains, singling out Mani Ratnam as an example. “Every film I worked on is different, and every filmmaker is unique. But the greatest often bring out the best in you by believing in you.”

Indeed, Mani Ratnam’s belief in Urs has led to some of the most iconic films in Indian cinema. Besides Bombay, which earned him a National Award, Urs edited six other Ratnam films, including Roja, Dalapathi, Thiruda Thiruda, Iruvar, and Dil Se. When asked about Mani Ratnam’s style of working, Urs lights up with a hundred anecdotes, clearly still in awe of the filmmaker’s visionary approach. He recalls his initiation into Ratnam’s inner circle during the making of Dalapathi, a project that not only cemented their professional relationship but also left a lasting impression on Urs as an editor and a storyteller.

‘Working with Mani Ratnam was the best time of my career’

Working with Mani Ratnam, according to Urs, was the best time of his editing career. It all began when Mani Ratnam, impressed by Urs' work on Malgudi Days, sought him out. Satyanarayana, one of Ratnam’s associates, arrived at Prasad Studio, where Urs was editing, only to be surprised by the unassuming man behind the acclaimed cuts. “When someone introduced me, he didn’t believe it at first,” Urs recalls with a chuckle. When he finally met Mani Ratnam at the G V Films office, Mani Ratnam's first question was disarmingly simple: “Which of my films have you watched? Did you like them?” Urs, not one to mince words, responded honestly, “I watched all your movies. But I didn’t like Anjali. I was disappointed with the way you ended the film; you could have gone for a more positive note.” Mani Ratnam’s reaction was a smile, followed by the offer of a lifetime: a chance to work on Dalapathi. Urs accepted immediately.

Reflecting on his collaboration with Mani Ratnam, Urs doesn’t hesitate to label it the best period of his career. “Mani Ratnam’s humility comes from his art. He shares his vision openly with his technicians and values their input, creating an environment where creativity thrives,” Urs says, his admiration evident. “He is the kind of leader who is there through all the struggles (of filmmaking), and despite being as good as he is, he gets nervous and questions everything just so that he can find and fix anything that we might have missed,” Urs says.

Urs recollects how the song Chinna Chinna Asai from Roja was re-shot after a thorough discussion with the crew. Similarly, a suggestion from the team led to the inclusion of a song to enhance the flag-burning scene in the same film. One of the unique aspects of working with Mani Ratnam was the freedom he granted his team — the freedom to experiment, to make mistakes, and to learn from them. “Where will you get filmmakers of the kind in the country? I learnt a lot while working on six of his films,” he says.

While shooting Bombay, Mani Ratnam was worried about the picturisation of the Halla Gulla song. “After cutting the visuals he shot, I showed him the results; he was convinced and continued the shooting of that song. He dedicated the song to me through an advertisement in a Tamil daily when the film completed 50 days in theatres,” said Urs, extolling Mani Ratnam’s generosity and his ability to recognise the talents of his crew members.

Urs remembers the challenge of editing the soliloquy at the end of Iruvar, a task that tested his skills but ultimately won Ratnam’s appreciation. “Mani Ratnam’s strength lies in his attention to detail,” Urs says, adding, “I’m blessed to have worked with him.”

Why editing is like architecture

Elaborating on his approach to editing, Urs says that the shots and takes don’t necessarily carry the tone, tenor and flow of the finished film. “I would approach each project thinking how the filmmaker would present his art. That would help me see the final work just as how it should be. My responsibility lies in making the material available as the best version of itself,” he says.

To Urs, editing is like architecture: “The bricks and mortar are the same for all structures, yet every architect creates something different by understanding the people’s needs.. The key is vision, and each filmmaker has his own.” When some filmmakers execute this vision on the spot, Urs just follows their instincts. “When I fail to identify those instincts, I just restructure to the best of my ability, using the existing visuals,” says Urs.

One of Urs’ most memorable achievements is his first National Award for editing Bombay in 1995. It’s a story he tells with a mix of humour and humility. “Everyone expected me to win, and one of my friends even threw a party at Besant Nagar.. But when the partial list of winners didn’t include my name, I was so disappointed I left the party, boarded a bus to Bangalore, and switched off my mind. Upon reaching, my brother told me, ‘Vijayamma (noted writer and journalist) called to congratulate you for winning the National Award.’ By that time, a morning daily had published a report stating, ‘Suresh Urs wins the National Award for Editing Bombay,’” Urs says, still amused by the memory.

Despite the acclaim, Urs maintains a grounded perspective on awards: “We expect recognition based on our work, but we must remember that other films compete too. One should never feel entitled to an award.” This wisdom guided him through his second National Award for Madhyantara, a recognition he attributes to the film’s straightforward narrative style.

As for directing his own film, a route many editors have taken, Urs is unequivocal: “No, I’ve never dreamed of it. It’s beyond my imagination.” In his view, film editing remains his true calling, a craft he continues to perfect, always with the same unpretentious dedication that brought him from a small village in Karnataka to the heights of Indian cinema.