Showing posts with label Arun Nambiar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arun Nambiar. Show all posts

50 years after, Bimal Roy lives on, thanks to documentary on Kumbh Mela


Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; January 8, 2016)

Today is Bimal Roy's 50th death anniversary. The filmmaker who bagged two National Awards, the International Prize at Cannes and 11 Filmfare Awards, with Madhumati taking home five, passed away on January 8, 1966, at the age of 54. After his untimely demise, the family retained his office at Mohan Studio in Andheri till they were told to vacate the premises by a builder. That's when his son, Joy Bimal Roy, visited the bungalow adjoining the studio, on the first floor of which was his baba's editing room and library where he kept stock shots and live sounds.

"This was in 1999 and it was there that I discovered half-a-dozen reels tagged Kumbh Mela. Baba had started a film, Amrit Kumbh Ki Khoj Mein, based on Sameresh Basu's novel, Amrita Kumbher Sandhane, and ma would fondly speak about some scenes from it, including one in which a father is separated from his son. Thinking it was that film, I started watching the negative and discovered it was one-hour footage of the Kumbh Mela in Allahabad and the negative was in perfect condition," says Joy.

He decided to edit and curate the footage as a documentary tribute to his father but didn't have the funds till Yash Chopra approached the family for the overseas video rights of Bimal Roy's films. When Joy told him about the Kumbh footage which he could incorporate as a bonus, Chopra allowed him the use of his editing facilities and his editor. Joy cut a 11-minute documentary which begins early in the day and ends with an aarti on the Ganga at night, with shots of pilgrims arriving by train, bus and on foot all day.

Since it was silent footage, he had to decide on the sound and after toying with the idea of using orchestra and even Indian classical music and Marathi folk, Joy was put in touch with a sound engineer, Arun Nambiar, who came up with the idea of using music from his father's own films. Arun left for Bangalore after two days, but Joy took his idea forward, using music from Devdas for the train shots and Madhumati for the mela sequences.

"There's a scene of a pandit speaking which I matched with a scene of another pandit speaking in Parakh. I have used one song, Kabuliwala's "Ganga aaye kahan se" since Kumbh is all about the Ganga," says Joy.

Not many in India however saw the documentary as it was only attached to the overseas DVDs. Joy did premiere it in January 2000 during an exhibition of his father's photographs at Mumbai's Nehru Centre. But the film arrived from Adlabs only on the morning of the screening, and when he played it, he discovered to his shock and horror that the sound was not in sync. "There's a technical issue when you transfer sound from film to video. So the "Ganga" song at the beginning started after the boat had passed and played on in the end after the aarti had ended, spilling into the title credits. I was so disappointed that I never looked at the film again. I did not even have a copy of it. But then my nephew and a journalist from Kolkata told me that it was available on YouTube. When I watched it, I realised it was a perfect print with the song in sync," says Joy who's finally happy he unveiled one of his baba's last footage on screen.

Filmistaan: What does Pakistan sound like?


Kripa Krishnan (MUMBAI MIRROR; May 28, 2014)

When sound engineers Arun Nambiar and Faisal Majeed first started work on the sound design of Filmistaan, they were confronted by a tricky question, What does Pakistan sound like?

The film by Nitin Kakkar which won the National Award for Best Feature Film in 2012, revolves around an affable, albeit dim Bollywood worshipper who is kidnapped by a motley crew of wannabe jihadis and held hostage in a Pakistani hamlet.

When the bound and blindfolded protagonist comes to his senses, he deciphers the sounds around him to come to the chilling realisation that he has crossed the dreaded border.

“Sunny wakes up to the cricket commentary and is puzzled when a Pakistani batsman is lauded for a six. Then he recognises the tune of the hit song Yara Sili Sili from Lekin, sung by Lata Mangeshkar" says Arun. So, do cricket and Bollywood, India's famous national passions, reign supreme in the sounds of our estranged neighbour too? The answer is yes and the team got the copyrights of the Pakistani number Vay Main Chori Chori, the original which inspired the Lata number and a dubbing artiste mimicked the Urdu drenched commentary of Pakistani radio jockeys.

Strummings of the traditional Arabic guitar Oud and Punjabi folk songs weave together the aural tapestry of Sunny's puzzlingly joyous abduction.

But as the film progresses and the threat of an assassination looms large, howling winds and rustling gun triggers, create an ambience of terror. Instead of using a high octane piece to play in the background as a desperate Sunny finally attempts to escape, Faisal and Arun decided on a melody played on the Oud, again.
“The winds play a central role in establishing the fact that he is held hostage in the middle of nowhere.
When accompanied by the Oud it creates a haunting ambience, especially as Sunny is running for his life. It also provides a stark departure from the hustle and bustle of Mumbai,“ says Faisal.

The Maximum City's sounds, include the cacophony on the set of a TV soap, where Sunny is an assistant and the drone of cricket commentary. This hubbub pervades his life and then follows him to the other side.