Synopsis
Naveen (Bhuvanesh Shetty) works with
a religious publisher and has moved into a new
colony - the buildings look scarily similar and
the landscape barren. He notices Sonali (Rasika
Dugal), a colleague. She is amused by Naveen's
rings and somehow they become friends. Every ring
that Naveen wears protects him from a fear, and
now they cripple him. Naveen's astrologer warns
that Sonali will upset his belief system. Yet,
as they float in a manmade lake, the hopelessness
of the landscape fades into a delightful liberation.
Naveen struggles to withdraw from the institutions
that govern him. Will he learn to trust his own
choices – ones that will influence Sonali's
destiny?
When is it that many, varied tiny thoughts once
jotted onto little scraps of paper and shoved
into pockets find their way to a coherent whole
– to a film? I can’t identify the
singular moment or thought that lead to Us
Paar or The Opposite Shore. Perhaps
it’s what people call fate (I made it because
on some level, I needed to understand the power
of the mystic) or perhaps it was mere chance…
 The
film began as just this - a quest to understand
fate and why we, especially Indians, cling to
the notion that our life’s journey has already
been written, that our karma is predestined. It
began with a fascination with ‘naadi’
leaf reading. Every where I went I would read
about it, hear about and when they couldn’t
find my leaf, I began having extremely romanticized
visions of my central character sitting under
the shade of a peepal tree when his destiny comes
floating down to him. After many months of research
and many tussles with the script, I left that
idea behind (not to mention, ola leaves can’t
possibly float down – they’re very
stiff and all bound up in cupboards all over India!)
and moved on to what had begun interesting me
even more – the psychology behind why we
need to look ahead, need to cling on to ‘the
known.’
I delve so much into the process before the shoot,
of the motivation behind the script, because this
was perhaps most important in the journey of this
particular film. Many astrologers and endless
discussions later, Hansa my script writer, and
I embarked on what began as ‘Naveen’s
rings’ and ended as The Opposite Shore.
We learned soon that nearly every cynic had been
to some astrologer or another, whether in serious
quest or with curiosity. They all asked the quintessential
questions – Will I be rich, Will I be famous,
and then always the softer, more urgent question,
eyes downward, Will I find love? And so, our story
began with love as Naveen found Sonali or as Sonali
discovered the power of gemstones, whichever way
one reads it.
Our first line before the story began, read something
like this “How Naveen let go of his twelve
rings and exchanged new fears for old.”
It’s another matter, that eventually Naveen
didn’t lose the rings, he clung on to them.
We all have physical manifestations of fear, the
crutches that have become symbolic to our lives.
I may collect every old photograph, you, every
friend, Naveen every gemstone. The film became
a vehicle by which we could explore this brand
of fear and what would happen to Naveen when this
fear collided with desire. At the end of the film,
essentially Naveen has to make a choice, between
Sonali, a new life and his rings. Hansa and I
never really knew which way he would go –
we said we would let the film tell us. There in
the middle of the Vashi lake, the secret is we
took four different takes – Naveen clinging
on to the rings, Naveen dropping them in the water,
Naveen merely caressing the water (You get the
drift).
Can a person change after years of conditioning
and belief in an institution like astrology? Can
love inspire this change? Who were we to answer?
Naveen didn’t change, the film told us so.
And so the film became a portrait of two people,
from completely different ideologies trying to
negotiate a space of togetherness for 30 brief
minutes.
This was my first attempt at narrative and so
Hansa and I were on shaky ground, we both enjoyed
situations, life meandering, without necessary
conclusion, poetic images. We struggled to enforce
a graph with high and low points – we struggled
with the idea that Naveen must change because
otherwise he had no journey. Eventually it was
Sonali who changed and Naveen who got left behind.
Most of my learnings were definitely at the script
stage. With funding, I had fate on my side. On
graduation from the School of the Art Institute
of Chicago I won the Gelman fellowship, for an
earlier film Perhaps, which funded the majority
of my film. I did go over budget (please tell
me, everyone does?) and am extremely grateful
to family for filling in.
When we began production, I was determined that
no matter how low the budget we would do this
the real way – with a full (though small)
crew, and that was a tremendous experience –
to work as a team. There’s something to
be said of low budget films – the team has
to trust each other and have immense faith despite
the odds and low remuneration! Three days before
shoot, our main lead dropped out, but as fate
would have it Bhuvanesh couldn’t have made
a more perfect Naveen. At midnight before our
first shoot at 5:00 am, Kodak informed us our
stock wasn’t available. At 4:45 am my executive
producer Ganesh, had Fuji film in the camera.
We didn’t look back and I learnt my most
valuable lesson. The show must go on and it will
because everyone in the film industry is there
for only one reason – passion.
 The
astrologer in the film was a real astrologer who
did an extempore on his lines. We worked with
him to devise a chart that would be realistic
to Naveen’s character. We practiced with
Bhattji several times and he did very well. However,
one can’t underestimate the sheer convenience
of using real actors especially with a low budget
film.
One of the most gratifying aspects of the film,
was that I collaborated with two of my dearest
friends from art school in Chicago. Daniela flew
down from Mexico to be cinematographer and Amber
from the US to be editor. With Daniela shooting
in a language she didn’t know and even more
tricky, Amber editing in a language she didn’t
understand, I believe it was the passion for cinema,
for visual communication, that kept us unperturbed
by language.
We shot in ten locations, most of them in Navi
Mumbai, over 5 days and nights and no sleep. We
shot scooter scenes on the wrong side of the street
in Charkhop, on a rainy Ganesh Chaturti Sunday
in the middle of the Vashi lake, (with an insect
that refused to sit still), both without permission
but a whole lot of prayer and an exhilerating
joy. We were very fortunate - we used Business
India’s office and friends’ houses
as locations, Dungarpur films’ go-down and
costumes, and the goodwill of Think 16 and Prime
Focus for camera and telecine respectively.
The thrill of seeing the telecine is something
any filmmaker will identify with - the pit in
one’s stomach till the last frame is done
and one can breathe a sigh of relief. Not for
long in my case, when we started editing, we just
couldn’t sync the sound. We had done a telecine
at 25 frames and the sound was synced to 24. Sounds
awfully simple now, but for one week no one could
figure out what went wrong. Amber and I were running
from prime focus to famous with a laptop and external
hard drive, on the phone with editors, like frantic
mice. Finally, Darshan at Galactica hit upon the
solution – we compressed the sound on protools’
film to pal setting and then began, ‘life
after sync sound!’ When we assembled a first
rough cut, I was unhappy – there was something
missing in our identification with the characters.
After some brainstorming we decided to add a voice
over. Some say it’s redundant, others like
it – personally it somewhat filled the vacuum
I was feeling and that’s when I learned
the power of VO. Some screenwriters call it the
easy way out, the same way some art school film
majors poo poo the use of music. All equally valid
points – but if they do the trick then one
reminds oneself – film is essentially about
illusion.
We wished for original music, Dolby sound, a
reverse telecine back to film. Funds didn’t
support all this but 8 months later we have a
30 minute 16mm sync sound fiction film.
What were my misgivings – not enough time,
not enough money – Who doesn’t have
those? Primarily, my fatigue was a result of wearing
both hats – that of producer and director,
the director’s job always takes a backseat
in this situation. When permissions are hard to
come by, dates need to be juggled constantly,
and money is scarce, the storyboard gets pushed
to 3:00 am. Next time I will separate these two
roles, because they both deserve more energy than
I was able to give. And finally, what have I learnt
of destiny - I know just this –
"You are what your deep, driving desire is
As your desire is, so is your will
As your will is, so is your deed
As your deed is, so is your destiny"
Upanishads IV - 4.5
This is also the end quote of the film.
Anushka Shivdasani Rovshen has worked
in advertisement films before doing a MFA from
the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, 2006.
Us Paar is her first fiction film.
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