SHOOTING FROM THE HEART

By Natasha Block Hicks

One of cinematographer Ravi

K. Chandran ISC’s formative experiences, arguably the origin of his odyssey to becoming a master in Indian cinema, was as a 12-year-old old child, secretly visiting his village cinema’s projection room to help splice together celluloid reels that had melted in the heat.

The boy, who would grow-up to become a founding member of the Indian Society Of Cinematographers (ISC), would sometimes take home damaged frames, mount them inside a cardboard holder and use a makeshift projector, created from a shaving mirror and lightbulb casing filled with water, to cast images onto the white cloth of a Dohti (a traditional sarong) as a sort of screen.

“I also memorised all the dialogue to narrate over the images,” Chandran relates, “and this is how the cinema grew into my life.”

A further influence was Chandran’s eldest brother, cinematographer Ramachandra Babu ISC, who had studied at the Film & Television Institute Of India (FTII), and was already making inroads into the industry. Babu would sometimes use his kid brother Chandran – 21 years his junior – as the subject in trick photography.

“He would make it look like I was standing in a glass, or on top of a temple,” Chandran remembers.

Chandran’s first indication that he too had an eye for photography came when he was asked to take some monochrome pictures of a family friend, using their AGFA Click III, a rudimentary, medium-format camera, with a fixed focal length and basic viewfinder.

“The printer called me in to ask me what settings I had used,” recalls Chandran. “He said they looked like professional photographs. I said I hadn’t done anything, but I realised then that the sense of composition, light and shadow came naturally to me.”

Chandran’s ambition of following his brother to the FTII was halted by the death of their father, so Babu invited his younger brother to join his team as an ‘assistant cinematographer’.

“In India, every cameraman will have eight to ten camera assistants, who also act as gaffers and grips,” explains Chandran, “it is a different system to the USA or Europe.”

After a few years of working with Babu, Chandran joined Rajiv Menon ISC shooting TV commercials, and by the age of 24, he had landed Kilukkampetti (1991, dir. Shaji Kailas), his first film as a DP.

“I was fearless and we were having fun,” relates Chandran. “We finished the film in 24 days.

An actor said, “why don’t you make a card saying: Ravi K. Chandran – Fast Cameraman!.”

“That year I did a lot of films,” he continues, “I bought a house and a car. Then I started to become choosy about the projects I worked on.”

The Hindi-language family drama Virasat (1997, dir. Priyadarshan) raised Chandran’s profile when he was awarded the 1998 Filmfare Award for Best Cinematography. (As a matter of interest, Ravi Varman ISC, who last year lensed the mega-budget epic Ponniyin Selvan I (2022, dir. Mani Ratnam), joined Chandran as a fresh assistant cinematographer during production.)

“As my career as a cinematographer started to take off, my plan was to try to learn something new in every film,” relates Chandran. “Even now, I always like to work with different directors so that my cinematic language will improve. When I want to do an artistic film, I will do a smaller-budget film where I can experiment.

“However, in the ‘larger-than-life’ films in India, you are restricted because the actors have to look good. It’s like the Hollywood olden days,” he says. “Also, I have to satisfy the director’s vision first. Editors, sound designers, cinematographers… all of us are helping the director to tell the story.”

Punaradhivasam (2000, dir. V.K. Prakash) which picked-up two Kerala State Film Awards for Best Debut Director and Best Story, was one such artistic film Chandran lit. Another was Kannathil Muthamittal/A Peck On The Cheek (2002, dir. Mani Ratnam), a tale of an adopted Sri Lankan girl’s mission to reconnect with her Tamil Tiger mother.

“We were able to do a lot of interesting work in Kannathil Muthamittal,” says Chandran, “it’s not glamorous, it’s pure storytelling. It had songs and textures, but was done pointedly, which gave me immense experience.”

Chandran took on the narrative-led Firaaq (2008), the directorial debut of actress Nandita Das, in between shooting two mainstream productions: Ghajini (2008, dir. A.R. Murugadoss), featuring Aamir Khan, and Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi (2008, dir. Aditya Chopra), starring Shah Rukh Khan, both megastars of Hindi cinema. The low-budget Firaaq –a fictional day-in-the-life study of vulnerable Muslims after the 2002 Gujarat riots – had such limited funds that the small crew all had to bunk-up together in a few flats to sleep and cook.

“Firaaq gave me the opportunity to express myself,” proclaims Chandran, “we were only thinking about the script’s essence, and what Nandita was trying to tell the audience.”

“We chose filmmaking because we want to tell stories,” he continues, “but by-and-large cinema in

India is not artistic, it’s for the mainstream audience. It’s very hard to find a producer willing to make an artistic film; they may go to festivals, but they don’t make money. So, there’s real joy when you succeed in shooting a project which you really like.”

Chandran emphasises that it is often the smaller films that have the greatest longevity. One such movie frequently cited as highly-influential was Dil Chahta Hai (2001, dir. Farhan Akhtar). Chandran had turned down an all-but-guaranteed blockbuster, headedup by the multi-award-winning director, writer and composer Sanjay Leela Bhansali, in favour of the first-time writer/director Akhtar.

“Everyone thought I was mad,” reports Chandran, “but I liked the script.”

Dil Chahta Hai is distinctive for the filmmakers’ striking use of block colours and bold compositions, some of which, like the image of three friends perched on the wall of an old fort, have been duplicated many times by fans in taggable photo pastiches.

“Dil Chahta Hai created a wave in indie cinema,” says Chandran. “It was very youthful, very cult. People have grown-up watching that film. Even today I will get a TV commercial and be shown Dil Chahta Hai and told, ‘we want that look’. But of course, when we were making the film, we didn’t think anything like that. We were shooting from the heart.”

Bhansali, unperturbed by Chandran’s previous pass, eventually wooed the cinematographer with Black (2005), the tale of a blind-deaf child’s emancipation via the ministrations of an alcoholic tutor, who himself succumbs to dementia as she blossoms into womanhood.

But even today, it remains one of the most iconic films of India.”

Chandran worked with Bhansali again on the romantic fairytale Saawariya (2007), based on a short story by Russian writer Fyodor Dostoevsky. The entire project was shot inside a studio.

“That was a great experience,” Chandran recalls. ‘We had to create everything from scratch. We used a peacock feather for the colour scheme of the film, with blue for the night and green to represent the Islamic tradition of the heroine.”

Chandran had been impressed by the techniques used by Emmanuel Lubezki ASC AMC on Sleepy Hollow (1999, dir. Tim Burton) and a local engineer was tasked with making some comparable space lighting units for Saawariya

“We tested them on an empty studio floor,” relates Chandran. “Some early versions caught fire!” However, their research and development eventually resulted in some workable units.

“Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s films usually have flashing colours,” states Chandran, informally comparing the director to Australian auteur Baz Luhrmann. “But this film didn’t have anything like that. There are no songs, there are dark background blacks and it’s very poetically done. It made a lot of impact on the cinematic visuals in India in that period of time.”

Black won a record 11 trophies at the 2005 Filmfare Awards, including Chandran’s second Best Cinematography Award. This record remained unbeaten for 14 years.

“Black is a little operatic in terms of lighting, setting, composition… what you might call ‘loud cinematography’,” admits Chandran. “We used stylised filmmaking, such as Citizen Kane -style shafts of light, because the film needed that theatrical look.

“That gave us a lot of control over the soft lighting,” details Chandran. “I shot wide open, almost F2.5, and underexposed by one stop. The film has a soft look, with muted blacks and the shadows fallingoff nicely. Everything has a painterly quality to suit the dreamy love story.”

In recent years, Chandran has taken-up the director’s mantle, but he admits that he feels “naked without the camera”. So, in the upcoming FrancoIndian collaboration project Tamara, he is both director and DP, his third outing in this HOD role combination. He also has a personal project of his own authorship in development, which he hopes to helm next year.

“I have a lot of stories to tell,” proclaims Chandran. “However, when you are directing, a project can take a whole year. I am careful to spend it well. As you get older, every year counts. But as long as your brain is active, and your body is active, you can do all these things.”