The Cine Technician (1953-1956)

16 THE CINETECHNICIAN Jan. -Feb., 1953 AMERICAN ART DIRECTOR IN INDIA by George Jenkins, Society of Motion Picture Art Directors THERE is one country on this shrinking planet that has an annual output in feature motion picture production footage that is said to exceed that of the American film industry. This country is India. In spite of this quantity of film, most of us have never seen one of the many pictures made in this over-populated and mystic land. Well, I had the opportunity this past summer to see first hand what the real Indian film industry is like and get to know a few of the people in it. I went to India with two very interesting assignments; one, I was to work directly with the allIndian motion picture company, Minerva Movietone Studios, in Bombay. My job there was to be colour adviser and ambassador extraordinaire without portfolio. My other job was to absorb and photograph as much of the Indian atmosphere as possible in preparation for designing the picture Monsoon for the independent American company. The Film Group, Inc. This little article deals only with my experiences with Minerva Movietone. The name of the picture I was to work on was Jhansi ki Rani, which means in English " Queen of Jhansi." It is the dramatisation of the life and tragic death of the Maharani of Jhansi. This was a part of the Indian Mutiny in 1857. The Rani was shot by British soldiers as she was leading her regiment in a suicidal charge during the siege of the fort at Jhansi, a small province in the west central part of India. The Indian does not speak of this battle as a " mutiny." To him it is the beginning of their own fight for independence, similar to our battle of Lexington and Concord, and the brave Rani of Jhansi is a national martyr — the Joan of Arc of India. This story had important national significance in this sixth year of India's freedom. The picture was to be made in Hindustani, the language most films are shot in; but for the first time in an Indian picture, an English version was to be made. Rusi Banker had already been preparing the designs for about six months. There were a great number of sets and most of them were based on the authentic buildings, some of which are still standing, in sad need of repair, in the town of Jhansi. The amount of research that Rusi Banker had assembled could not have been improved upon by a major studio in Hollywood. Documentation by photograph, measured drawings, sketches and maps of all the various locations, were beautifully catalogued. I was amazed when I learned that he had taken all the pictures himself and was his own research department. I was also surprised to find that the Indian Art Director does all his own (hatting and the original drawings arc sent to the mill, no blueprints ever being used. The working drawings are, of course, in far less detail than we are used to, and are drawn on heavy paper instead of tracing paper. In going over the various sets, I soon began to realise that this mild, unassuming young man, that I had flown half way round the the world to help in his colour problems, was teaching me a few tricks in organising his work, and getting the job done in a calm manner. Very few Americans are aware of the differences of the Islamic, Hindu or Buddhist periods in Indian architecture. We all know our Greek and Roman orders from architectural school, but how many of us could distinguish the difference between the Imperial Style of the Khalji Dynasty in Islamic architecture and the Mogul period of Shah Jahan ? The Indian Art Director must know his own native architecture and Rusi Banker turned out to be a walking encyclopaedia on the subject. In addition to this knowledge, he must know the architecture of the Western world, which has been superimposed on his own native style by the years of British rule. I realise how easy it is for us to make conspicuous boners in this strange architecture, and I see how the educated Indian is amused, but not pleased, by our ignorance. Everyone, at one time or another, has heard someone say India is a colourful country. It certainly is very true. This colour adviser in that colourful country was confronted with a complex dilemma. The native sari is brilliantly coloured and the Indian women love certain characteristic clashing colour schemes. The Hindu and Mongul temples are brilliantly coloured inside and out, most of it is in what we might call primitive taste. Many houses are brightly coloured in blue, pink, turquoise, yellow ochre and Indian red. The national taste in colour ... is on the opposite end of the spectrum from the restrained sophisticated colour sense of the English or American. Psychologically speaking, a predominating Indian trait is a feeling of inferiority. This feeling of inadequacy and humility is born from the philosophy of the religions of India and has long been nurtured by the British. Consequently, they look with envy on all things foreign, including every colour picture that comes to India. Good or bad, they are anxious to copy. They are, at the same time, aware that it does not fit their native land. I did not feel that I should guide this Indian artist away from his native colour instinct, even though he was not proud of it. This was an Indian picture to be made for the great nationalistic audience in that country of three hundred and fifty-three million persons. The number of people from the Western world who will see this picture will be far less than its potential box office in its native land. The plan 1 decided to follow was to give advice on the dramatic value of colour, which is almost universal, and its relation to the mood of the scene. I also wanted to awake in Rusi Banker pride and confidence in this unsophisticated and primitive feeling for colour which he possessed naturally but was hesitant to express. I set out to accomplish this with trips to the museum where miniature paintings, fabrics, and frescoes could be examined. We went to shops and discussed the colours of the native materials in contrast to the imported ones. We made many trips around all sections of Bombay . . . pointing out to him the common everyday things in his life that were characteristically Indian but being seen so often. were taken for granted. ... A strong feeling for his national heritage slowly developed, bringing with it confidence. i 7 urn t'< /»"/' 211