Ashim Ahluwalia, whose 2012 film Miss Lovely was an official selection at Cannes, still refuses to call himself a part of the Indian film industry. Arjun Rampal, so far the 'Mr Lovely' of Bollywood, tells him he's mainstream now ­ whether he likes it or not ­ and to stop being a drama queen. What both agree on is that their respective 'sides' had wondered if they'd 'sold out' or 'lost it' when they came together. And both refuse to put their film Daddy in a box either. “It's a gangster film but not what you think that means.“ “It's not a biopic, but it's definitely not a documentary“. “A guy from Dagdi Chawl is going to enjoy it, so is a Korean-cinema buff“. So what exactly is Daddy, the biopic-but-not-a-biopic on the Mumbai gangster (and briefly, politician) Arun Gawli?

From Miss Lovely, five years ago, to Daddy now, can we finally call you a Bollywood filmmaker, Ashim?
Ashim: This word, I just don't get it. I know when I was making Miss Lovely, it was a thing I really hated because it was very difficult for me to make the kind of films I wanted to make. I think, for me, Daddy is no different from Miss Lovely, in the sense that I take complete ownership of the film. I don't feel like it's a studio movie, or a 'star' movie, which I wanted to do to break into the industry. The only aspect of 'Bollywood' here is the fact that the film is mounted on 'X' scale, and Arjun's an actor from the industry. But I think it breaks all expectations because for me, it's a very real film, and it's made in a way that's unlike anything else. I can't even compare it to any film that exists, including earlier films like Satya.
Arjun: It's a global film. It's not something we can slot as a typical gangster film, which we're used to. When you go into that genre, you have that typical treatment. The story arc is also more or less the same. Which is fair, all gangsters do have that arc, they all end up becoming Robin Hood, they become leaders of certain areas, they make their own rules. Even Gawli's like that. There is the rise of him, and then the fall. The rise and fall of a gangster is that.

Ashim, after being a critic of the mainstream industry, what made you say yes to this?
Ashim: When Miss Lovely was in Cannes, I'd have people ask me, 'so now are you ready for SRK, are you ready for this...', and I was like, dude, I don't get it. If I was, I would have done that 15 years ago. Why would I wait for so long? I clearly want to make a different kind of film. So I am very paranoid of the industry because of the relationship that directors have with it. Directors are very low in the food chain, let's be honest about it.

Lower than writers, even?
Ashim: Well, it's changing. Because the industry is collapsing, it's changing. Writers, directors...Other than the star, the music director, perhaps, then the choreographer comes in, then the action director, and then the director, somewhere near the bottom, somewhere near the spotboy, you know!
Arjun: (Laughs) That's so unfair!
Ashim: No, that's not unfair. I can name five that are not those guys - ­ five. And if you're an intelligent director and you want to have control over the project, you don't put your head in this, right? You just don't. So I think Arjun knew that. And we'd shot a commercial together, we hit it off. I said, this guy wants to do something different, let me read the script that you've written. And I said, wait a minute, this guy's not written himself as a hero. He's written himself as a Gawli-like character, it's a very character-centric story. Because our screenplays are written around the persona of the star. The star plays 20 characters, and all of them you can't tell apart, because it's the star that dominates. Which is fine for a certain type of film. But this film needed him to be that guy. And I was excited that there was someone here who's not going to dominate it and say, let's put a song here, introduce an item number, or cast this supermodel as Asha Gawli.

Arjun, since you produced this film, you were able to do what you wanted to do?
Arjun: Absolutely! If I had sold out to a studio, the control would have gone. It's not a massive budget film, but it's also not an indie film. It's in the middle, but because of our expertise, it is a massive film. You see it in the scale, and in the detailing that Ashim brings to the canvas, it requires a tremendous amount of production support. To recreate that era takes a lot of effort. What I learnt from this film is that all the magic of a film lies purely in the detailing. And Ashim is a master of detail. You could be giving your best shot but he'd be looking at a cup behind your head in the frame somewhere!

This is your first sort of, experimental space...
Arjun: This is not an experiment at all, for me. The film has an audience that can only grow. I know that my audience is that guy in Dagdi Chawl, he has to enjoy the film, and he has to feel that his Daddy has been justified properly. That guy is your main audience, those are the people who gave us our stories. I want the cops to say, 'yes, these guys didn't mince words about something'. I want his rivals to say the same thing. I want every Mumbai guy to say, 'these characters are bang on' ­ the guys who know the story. So it is not an experiment. It is an authentic gangster film, which is a genre I've grown up watching, and is one of the reasons I'm an actor. Seeing Brando, Al Pacino, or Amit ji in Agneepath - ­ those were the performances that were etched in my mind at a young age and I always wanted to play one.

How is Arjun not a conventional producer?
Ashim: Because I said, let's do a biopic. Now, a biopic on Abraham Lincoln will always have his point of view, right? Here, you don't have Gawli's point of view, you have all the other people's points of view. So it's in the form of an investigation, and different people, depending on what their relation to him is, say either he is a great, wonderful, amazing guy, or he is a really dark and scary guy.

In a sense, aren't you making a documentary?
Arjun: No, but that's the whole challenge. How do you make a film that is authentic and you don't go down the propaganda route? Show all the facts, but also make it entertaining? You have to get sucked into it, you have feel what the characters are feeling. You have to feel the heaviness of the world they come from. But not a documentary. The entertainment comes from the masala in his life.

The regular accusation of making a gangster look glamorous, does that work? Because in Delhi, every third crime has a guy quoting a movie, saying I got inspired by this.
Arjun: I think there should just be a law for anybody who says a movie inspired me to do this, that you're going in for 10 years the minute you make that excuse. They shouldn't come after the industry and say you're ruining these people. That's not true. If you see our news channels, they show the goriest, most gruesome stuff all the time, uncensored. And films are censored left and right.
Ashim: The question is, is he aspirational? He is not! After watching this, you don't want to be Gawli.
Arjun: Even Gawli, it took us two-and-a-half years to convince him. It takes a lot for a man to give you those things. Somewhere he realised that this is what will make his story different from all the other guys whose stories have been made in pieces. And he was very brave to give us his story. And he also said, say it in a truthful way, and don't show me as a hero. When he saw the film also, he said, 'tumne mujhe dialoguebaazi diya hi nahi poori picture mein', and I said, 'aap karte ho kahan!' So he kind of understood that the message is, if you live in this world, this is what's going to happen to you.

If this is not a gangster film like people know it, not a Satya, or Gangs Of Wasseypur, or Raees or a Quentin Tarantino film, do you think the audience will consume what they are not used to seeing?
Arjun: But you also have a commercial actor here!
Ashim: But they are not consuming what they are used to seeing! That's why the industry is crashing. That's what people keep doing, keep giving them things they are used to seeing. 'Let's give them a gangster film where the guy wears Dolce and Gabana and walks in slow motion'. You don't want to see it again, you're done with that. The audience has actually grown up a lot, which is why we're in a position where we can make the film. We put the trailer out and we didn't expect the response we got ­ nine million views.

During Miss Lovely, you'd said what the world thought of as Indian cinema wasn't totally representing what was coming out of India. Do you think that is still true?
Ashim: I think it has been a complete breakdown. In the last five years, the industry has collapsed. Nobody has a formula, the blueprint is gone. And for many people, it's nerve-racking. Because that blueprint was there for 50 years. You knew which star got you how much money at the box office. There was a way to calculate the entire returns on your film, based on who's the music director, how many songs and how many stars, who's the girl, etc. Now they can't, because it's just not working. It's not computing. So that's fantastic for me, fantastic for someone like Arjun who wants to do new stuff, fantastic for a lot of people in the industry who want to give it a new lease of life.

You and Arjun are still an unlikely combo...
Ashim: It's a crazy combination, totally crazy.
Arjun: There are a lot of similarities between us. Like he calls me his twin sometimes!
Ashim: An evil twin.

You two working together is essentially saying the whole system has broken down.
Ashim: It's true. In a weird way, this film is a sign of the current state of the industry. In fact, if the two of us can work together, make a film and give it this kind of release, and still not compromise on it, and say that I want people from Dagdi Chawl, I want somebody who loves Gawli, they can watch it. Yet a cinephile, who watches world cinema, who watches Korean gangster movies, is not like, 'boss what is this, why is this guy flying, why is he jumping?' They still respect the other audience.

Filmmaker Ashim Ahluwalia doesn't like playing by the rules. While his second feature film Daddy chronicles the life of gangster-turned-politician Arun Gawli, his narrative style, the filmmaker insists, is not borrowed from Bollywood. He admits that stories about people who live on the fringes of society excite him. Also, he is happy that the Hindi film industry has got a new lease of life thanks to the independent filmmakers, who introduce new styles of storytelling. Excerpts from our conversation with him...

Your debut feature film Miss Lovely was about the soft-porn industry in Mumbai, while Daddy tells the story of a gangster-turned-politician. Both the movies delve into the underbelly of the city. Are you particularly drawn to these narratives?
I am drawn to characters who live on the margins of society. I feel that I am on the margins of the industry and so, I like characters who don't belong and are outsiders. Be it a gangster like Gawli, a C-grade actor or a producer making something in the middle of nowhere - when they don't belong is when they are free. You see them for who they because they don't conform. I like characters who don't play by the rules.

You don't play by the rules either, when it comes to your style of filmmaking. Which section of the audience are you targetting with a biopic on a gangster like Arun Gawli?
I think of people I know when I think of the audience. That could be my driver, who knows about Gawli. Or, it could be a friend who is a cinephile. It could even be somebody who is really into Bollywood and watches every single release. I don't think you can make a film keeping box-office collections as the primary objective. People who make a film keeping that in mind often fail. I have never felt that anything I have made has lost money. When a producer says, 'Get me a star and I will give you the money to make the film', it still doesn't guarantee box-office success. Films should engage emotionally and can't be made with a calculator. So, my logic is you are better off with me because you will make a cheaper film and get back your returns faster.

You also don't want to adhere to the norms of filmmaking that are prevalent in Bollywood and yet, you are working with a mainstream actor like Arjun Rampal. Isn't that contradictory? Then, how would you slot a film like Daddy?
My films are difficult to slot. Miss Lovely went to the Cannes Film Festival, so technically, it was an art-house movie though the narrative was about the B-grade film industry. My first documentary was about call-centre about call-centre employees, but it was shot like a sci-fi movie. I take to these hybrid forms. I don't want to be slotted as a Bollywood director, an art-house director or an independent director. The best response I got for the Daddy trailer was, 'There is so much of you in this'. I take that as a huge compliment because I can retain 'me' in my films. Arjun knew what he was getting into, as we had shot a commercial together. I don't mince my words. I find filmmaking in Bollywood to be plain lazy. The industry assumes that since everybody is used to a certain format, one can continue doing that. While working on Daddy, my question to Arjun was, 'Will I have the freedom to direct it the way I want and will you back me up?' I told him that if he wants to protect this project and doesn't want to get typecast again, he needs to co-produce the film. I have a clear image about how a space, environment or a city looks. When you are making a movie like Daddy, you know that it has to be shot in central Mumbai. If I am making a film on Arun Gawli, I can't have him wearing branded clothes. Arjun agreed with me. It's not a normal gangster movie from Bollywood. I wanted to shoot with a 27-year old French Canadian female director of photography had, who never shot in India before. I was convinced that she was right for the movie. These decisions would have had other producer balking. Filmmaking is not my bread and butter, I do commercials for that. When I am making a film, I want it to be my take.



Though you don't want to be slotted, your films are essentially seen as off-beat. How do you respond to the mainstream industry calling independent films pretentious?
Well, it's an invalidated statement for me. Independent cinema is the reason why Bollywood has become more interesting, it was dying otherwise. An actor like Nawazuddin Siddiqui has infused new life into Bollywood. Many of the current directors have also come from the independent space. There is a certain synergy between the two spaces, it's not a case of one versus the other. Christopher Nolan's first project was a black and white film, which premiered at Sundance. He is now making the Batman series; he is mainstream Hollywood now.

Where do you go from here? Clearly, you won't be helming a Bollywood fantasy drama anytime soon?
The concept of Bollywood itself is undergoing change. I hated the films of the 1990s not because they were bad films, but because they didn't allow me to make the kind of films that I wanted to make. But times are slowly changing and even the most traditional producer might call you today and say, 'I want something different'.

Ram Gopal Varma is like the 'Godfather' of the gangster sagas in Hindi cinema. What is your take on his style of filmmaking when it comes to this particular genre?
I am not even a fan of The Godfather or Ram Gopal Varma. I prefer the Italian mafia films from the 1970s, which is what Francis Ford Coppola ripped off. We are obsessed with The Godfather, and I have never understood why because that's not the only film made in that genre. Satya was an interesting film because the environment and the actors were real and that was very refreshing. That is closer to the kind of cinema I love. Though it's very filmy, it was radical in what it did for the genre within the paradigms of Hindi cinema.

When an intense Nawazuddin Siddiqui suddenly pops up in the trailer of a mainstream masala film, the first thought is: Has he switched sides? The actor who's the poster boy of Indian indies says that the grey character he plays in Kick is an exception which he made to extend his market.“Salman's (Khan) star power makes Kick a mass entertainer. By being a part of it, I can help my small films find a bigger audience,“ he reasons.

Nawaz is bitterly disappointed that despite the international acclaim and all the awards, a film like Miss Lovely disappeared without a trace. “Sajid (Nadidawala) spent more on the costumes of Kick than these people did on Miss Lovely's entire promotion. The film just came and went. Pifffft!“ he sighs. He's aware that unless marketted well, the same could happen to the upcoming Monsoon Shootout, which garnered much appreciation at both, Cannes and Toronto film festivals.

Won't the disappointment eventually turn to disillusionment? Naseeruddin Shah, one of the pioneers of the parallel cinema of the '70s, is cut up that the films he did for a pittance gave him little in return except for a few National Awards. Nawaz asserts that the scenario is different for indie cinema today. These Rs 4-5 crore film do a business of around Rs 20 crore thanks to a more receptive audience. “Even the ones that don't do well, can recover their cost from satellite rights. So, the risk is negligible, unlike in the '70s when many such films didn't even make it to the theatres. Today, Gangs of Wasseypur, Kahaani and The Lunchbox are hits globally," he beams.

Was The Lunchbox as delicious for him as it was for his co-actor and the film's co-producer Irrfan Khan? “It gave me more than I had expected - Best Supporting Actor at the New York Film Festival, the Asian Film Festival and even at Filmfare," Nawaz crows.

So why the rivalry with Irrfan? That, he insists, was media created, pointing out that they were on stage together at Sundance. “I respect Irrfan as my senior. As actors we do our own thing," he says.

So, is Salman his new buddy? Nawaz laughs, pointing out that Salman bonded more with Randeep (Hooda), even whisking him off to the gym. “Looking at me, he must have realised that there was no scope for growth here," he grins.

Buzz is, after getting the Salman Khan-starrer Kick, he has escalated his pay packet to Rs 1 crore ? This draws another laugh, “I was getting the figure you mentioned even before Kick. Yes, the film has given me a financial boost. I don't need the money, but like the stars, we actors have our fan following too and a hike in salary shows respect."

Since the characters he plays are so complex, he keeps his life simple. “My brother got me a ghar and a gaadi, I didn't come to the city for money. I often think of getting a farm near Pune or Nashik and doing some khetibadi. After all, I am a farmer. I can come to Mumbai when work calls," he says.

But from what we've heard, when Rajkumaar Rao came visiting in an Audi, he wanted to trade his Endeavour for the sedan. Nawaz wishes for a Maruti 800 which is easier to manoeuvre. “I find my car too big. So, I often travel in rickshaws,“ he says.

Meanwhile, Kick hasn't brought in any big offers. Buzz about Raees, he says, is pure fiction. “Mujhe khud bhi nahin pata tha film kab mere paas aayi and kab maine refuse kiya," he laughs. “I read about it in the papers but I was never approached. Had I been, may be I would have accepted it."

The only other commercial film he has is Sriram Raghavan's dark thriller Badlapur. He's trying to give the character a 3D appearance. That apart, he is experimenting with comedy in Ghoomketu, is in awe of Buddhadeb Dasgupta's one-take trolley shots for Anwar Ka Ajab Kissa and is amazed by the love Maajhi: The Mountain Man had for his wife. After she fell off a mountain, he spent 22 years carving out a road from it. “I've never done anything like this for my wife," he admits.

Rumours are rife that there are frequent tiffs at home and there were even talks of a divorce. “We've been married for four years. There must have been hardly four days when we haven't fought,“ he laughs.
“Jhagda to hota rehti hai, lekin baat divorce tak kabhi aayi nahin. Haal chal theek thak hai!“ Inshallah! 

From left: Actor Lalit Behl, Ranveer Shorey, YRF’s Avtar Panesar, director Kanu Behl, actor Shashank Arora and Guneet Monga at a photo call for their film, Titli, at the ongoing Cannes Film Festival. Titli is the only Indian film in contention for an award at the fest. Pic/PTI - See more at: http://www.mid-day.com/articles/do-b-town-filmmakers-really-benefit-from-the-cannes-film-festival/15321174#sthash.6z1M1UlI.dpuf

From left: Actor Lalit Behl, Ranveer Shorey, YRF’s Avtar Panesar, director Kanu Behl, actor Shashank Arora and Guneet Monga at a photo call for their film, Titli, at the ongoing Cannes Film Festival. Titli is the only Indian film in contention for an award at the fest. Pic/PTI - See more at: http://www.mid-day.com/articles/do-b-town-filmmakers-really-benefit-from-the-cannes-film-festival/15321174#sthash.6z1M1UlI.dpuf

At the Cannes film festival that is currently underway, red carpet appearances by Indian beauties once again grabbed the headlines. Like every year, there has been a steady stream of delegates from B-Town who find themselves at the French Riviera — where they pose for pictures, if nothing else. This has been so because Cannes is not just about competition; the festival offers scope for exploring new markets and that’s a race our industrywallahs don’t wish to be left behind in. The fact remains that it has been more than six decades since an Indian film bagged the top honour there.

All of which begs the question: is all the brouhaha worth it in the end? Do filmmakers get decent returns after spending huge amounts on exhibiting their films at the festival in the non-competitive categories? Turns out the answers are not really straightforward. But there is an underlying hope to do better, regardless of the film’s fate.



Indian premieres
Dibakar Banerjee, co-producer of Titli, the only Indian feature film in contention for an award this year, doesn’t sound worried about the film’s business prospects — at least for now. “Films and their market are interlinked and festivals act as a medium between the two. That’s also why we thought Titli should premiere at Cannes. We feel that it’s the best possible launch pad for the film. It is in the competitive category so obviously, it’s going to attract the best possible distributors.”

The competition category does get more eyeballs although Indian films have peripheral channels too. Like setting up stalls at the festival and hoping to find interested parties and territories. That’s one of the reasons why run-of-the-mill films like Shortcut Romeo, Kites and Hissss manage to get screened.



Making waves
Not very long ago, there was a stigma attached to the film fest circuit. But there’s no doubt that now there’s a sudden rise in Hindi films being screened at film festivals.

Ashim Ahluwalia’s Miss Lovely — which was screened at Cannes in 2012 — followed a slightly different route. Although the film hardly created waves upon its release in India, he managed to sell its theatrical rights in many territories, including the US, where the film will release on June 20, 2014. The film was also sold to distributors in Europe, including France and Eastern Europe as well as Latin America. Thanks to it screening at Cannes, Fortissimo Films sold the film in new markets such as Japan and Taiwan.

Ask him whether the hype about Cannes is for real and Ahluwalia chooses to play it safe. “I can’t comment on other films, but having Miss Lovely in the official competition category at Cannes was helped boost my film’s international sales. I would say that it was an essential platform for my film.”



Last year, DAR Motion Pictures, with films like The Lunchbox, Ugly and Monsoon Shootout, attended Cannes. All three ventures were premiered at the event although none were slated to win a major award. In such a scenario, business must be the motive, right? Wrong. According to Vivek Rangachari, producer at DAR, it’s too early to discuss profits. “It will take years before we talk about money. We have a long way to go before we stand shoulder to shoulder with international films. It won’t happen overnight anyway. Cannes might look like a glitzy event but it’s all about business. And that happens in the background with the sales agents, distributors and publicists from across the globe at work,” says Rangachari.

Wider reach
Director Anand Gandhi of The Ship of Theseus fame is currently working on his second cinematic venture, Tumbad. Interestingly, Ruchi Bhimani, the film’s producer, is at Cannes and she has an agenda on her mind; she’s scouting for suitable co-producers for the film. “The whole industry lands up there. The curiosity surrounding Indian films is recent and it has to be generated regularly because of the opportunities that lie ahead. It’s the same old question: How am I going to make my next film? Who’s going to watch it and how will I reach out to more people in different territories? Once you find people willing to back you, money is going to follow,” says Gandhi.

Obscure figures
Having shown three films at Cannes, including Bombay Talkies, Ugly and The Lunchbox, Anurag Kashyap is another regular at Cannes. He’s clearly in favour of the current trend. He believes that the event does help cinema — both art house as well as the commercial variety. “I don’t think the Cannes film festival is overrated. For instance, I don’t think people had any idea about how much business The Lunchbox did. Let me tell you that it’s much more than our mainstream films.”

Indeed, the latest buzz says that it has replaced Indonesian blockbuster The Raid 2 as the most profitable non-American film in the USA. But at the same time, getting the exact box office figures for this Ritesh Batra film has become quite a task.

Kashyap explains that when you sell a film’s worldwide rights to a distribution company, the company will exploit the film’s potential and they aren’t transparent about its collections. So we don’t get to read the exact figures. There are many companies that have their own overseas distribution houses. Why are they running them if these films are not making any money overseas? The answer is pretty simple. "They make money but they just don’t report the figures,” he says.

All about the business
Trade analyst Komal Nahta says that when production houses or filmmakers set up stalls at Cannes in a bid to lure international distributors, they end up shelling out a hefty sum of money. “It’s more of an investment for the future. If a film sells well, great. If not, it’s a loss for the makers. But that’s what this business is all about — it’s a gamble,” he says.

Then again, not all Indian films manage to get to Cannes, despite many makers trying their best to showcase their work there. Director Ajay Bahl knows a thing or two about it. His film, BA Pass, missed the deadline for Cannes last year. He eventually released the film in India instead of waiting for one more year. “Getting selected in the competitive categories is the way to go for any film — be it Indian or international. Setting up a stall to sell a film in international territories, on the other hand, could be a cumbersome task,” he says.

(with inputs from Asira Tarannum)

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