In India, there are six designated territories for the distribution of movies: Five are domestic and the sixth covers the overseas market. While Hollywood has territories divided by language, all with a ratio of worth, the five Indian territories are approximately equally priced. Each one has many distribution companies. The best deal for producers is minimum guarantee (MG), which is a non-refundable amount the distributor gives up front, whether the film is a hit or a flop. The next best option is a sharing agreement in which the distributor invests in publicity and the film prints, and then all accrued profits are shared in a pre-agreed ratio. The least desirable is an advance. It is actually a loan in which the distributor has to repay whatever difference is not recouped.
Shatranj Ke Khilari had made headlines across India when it was first announced in 1975, excitedly hailing ‘Ray’s First Film in Hindi!’ As such, I had no problems selling it to distributors from all five territories; Ray’s name was a big draw. However, after viewing the film, they decided that since it was an art film it would not make money and all five backed out. Eventually, I found other distributors and we released the film all over India, but the damage had already been done, both in terms of delay and saleability. Film, like fruit, goes past its ‘best by’ date quickly if it doesn’t hit the market right away. The six to seven months lost in this process affected the film’s commercial success. We had to stagger the release across India, instead of releasing it simultaneously, as it should have. Manik-da had wanted—and hoped—that the film would be shown in cinemas nationwide, but that was not to be. As word got out that the original distributors thought the film would flop financially, we were unable to get good distribution packages. Overseas sales became the only hope of recouping my investment. Over the next five to six years, foreign distribution slowly made up the money lost in India, but that’s a long time for debts and interest to accrue.
Most critics in India gave the film good reviews, preventing it from being a complete box-office disaster, but not enough to recover the investment. International response was generally very positive.
28/1/78
Dear Suresh,
I was delighted to know that the LKO1 screening went well. I do hope this augurs well for the film, and I do hope that the exemption will be granted2—at least in UP. I found a tremendous interest in the film in Benaras—which is unique in having a Bengali population of 1,50,000 who all follow Urdu. I still feel that the picture should open in one theatre in the big cities rather than in a chain. Although I don’t doubt that a lot of people are going to like the film, from our side we should create the impression that this is a special kind of a movie.
As for para-dubbing, I’m not yet sure what exactly you’re planning. I hope the original version will play in the principal towns (at least in the main theatres). The actual work of para-dubbing—of which I’m no expert—may have to be done without my presence; the reason being my very tight schedule over the next 3/4 months. Here it is:
Feb 1–5: Rotterdam
Feb 7–25: shooting in Benaras
Feb 28–March 6: Berlin
March 10–20: shooting in Calcutta
April 1: depart for USA
As for the 24 Feb opening (Delhi & LKO?), I may finish shooting a day or two earlier and make it. If not, I shall try to come down just for the opening provided suitable flights or trains are available. As for USA and our friend Kumar, I find it hard to explain to him why a long stay is out of the question; but I will tell you—every other day I have to take a pill (Lasix) for my hypertension; this means I have to stay at home for an 8-hour stretch in order to get the salt out of my system. When I’m shooting, my pressure keeps down (this applies to any kind of work—physical or mental—which I enjoy and which stimulates me). But on hectic foreign trips, especially of the kind that Kumar is planning, my pressure keeps mounting till I’m back home and in a position to resume medication. Kumar must somehow be made to realize this. The trouble seems to be the dates in Washington and LA. Washington has fixed the showing on 2, while Filmex starts on 13. Frankly I feel it is more important to keep the Washington date than the LA. I don’t think Filmex has acquired much prestige yet, even in the USA. In the past all my films have opened in the USA without my presence. I realize that Shatranj is a special case and that is why I’ve agreed to come. But Kumar mustn’t insist on a fortnight’s stay. I hope you’ll try and make him see reason.
Yours,
Manik-da
My dear Manik-da,
Regarding the UK distribution: the prices offered by Cooper and Pallanca will not be acceptable to the government.3 The problem we face there is neither one has a good idea of what the ‘immigrant’ audience attendances are like in the UK. To give an example: For Rajnigandha I had got £16,000 outright, whereas Cooper is offering only $10,000 outright. This he has subsequently changed to a sharing offer. As another example: Even a tiny spot like Mozambique has given us the equivalent of Rs 24,000 through IMPEC.4 And Tunisia is offering Rs 37,500. In view of this, both the Cooper and Pallanca offers are too little. And this can’t be discussed via letters, so I am waiting to see them when I go to London. The release in India and its result will give us a fair idea of immigrants’ response to the film in the UK. And mostly the immigrants are from the Hindi and Urdu (Pakistan) speaking areas of the subcontinent and Africa. And added to this are the views of both Robinson & Gibbs5 that Shatranj could go for a general release in the UK.
Release dates of Delhi–UP: 24 Feb. That means the Delhi première will be on 23 night. I think UP releases are a day earlier, which means the LKO première will be on 22 night. Will it be possible for you to finish your shooting before then? It will be of great importance for you to attend, and I would also like the crew to come with you.
Regarding Bombay & Eastern Circuit: Interestingly, there is complete silence from the trade—no enquiries even. This is what I call circumstantial evidence of some quarters wanting to hold the film. Even a film like Rajnigandha used to get enquiries, so do all films even if they are bad. But in our case—complete silence—I am not discouraged, as I feel we will make our point after the LKO screening, where I told you we had a totally uncontrolled audience of 800 people. I feel very confident that Shatranj will make the breakthrough we are hoping for. No! At no point have I imagined that it will do a business of two to three times its cost. My confidence lies only as far as my belief that it will easily pay for itself, along with the distributors’ commission. But once it breaks that barrier, then anything can happen. Haryana6 has asked us for a screening in Chandigarh on 11 Feb.
Release of the music record: I will be requesting HMV to release the record in Delhi-UP by the 7 February. I hope the timing is correct in relation to the release date. Thereafter, they can release it elsewhere in India and also overseas.
Further, may I please ask HMV to go ahead with the dialogue record? I assume they have already taken your view on it. In any case, I will ask them to meet you before you leave for Benaras.
I feel sure that the movement you started with Pather Panchali will come into full swing, and stay, over the next two years, if not earlier. The ‘commercial’ cinema, I think, has got itself into a hopeless mess by announcing so many multi-star-cast films. The hottest (box office) film in Delhi and Bombay is Rajshri’s Dulhan Wahi Jo Piya Man Bhaye. It has all new stars, and has been released without a single hoarding or poster. And it’s creating havoc. The new girl Rameshwari is very good. I think all this augurs well for Indian cinema today. When this happens, then what we can make is wide open. To break the possibilities wide open has been my endeavour as a producer. And I hope it will continue to be so.
Regards,
Suresh
May 29, ’78
My dear Manik-da,
I’ve been wanting to come to Calcutta but I can’t afford to at this time. I am using all available funds to pay off personal loans of friends and relatives, so I feel guilty in spending money on air fares, and I can’t bear long journeys by trains—especially in this hot weather.
I wanted to discuss two things with you:
1.The possibility of editing down two scenes in Shatranj: (a) Outram and Fayrer (b) Amjad’s long monologue. Both these scenes are a bit too long and make the audience restless in an otherwise very absorbing film. It is not absolutely essential to do this if you feel it will detract from the film. Only in the case of the Fayrer scene can we avoid having two separate versions if the scene can be reduced to near half its length.
2.I have already talked to Shyam Benegal7 about doing a film with him around Oct/Nov. If everything is all right with you, and no great bitterness remains with your unit about the Shatranj experience, I would very much like to do a film with you again. I guess because of your previous commitments, you will not be free before March ’79, which suits me fine. I would like to make the announcement concurrently with Shyam’s film, and we could work out the details later. I personally would like to do a co-production in English with an international cast, but the choice is up to you in this matter.8
I am still confident that the film will make a strong showing at the Bombay and Calcutta releases. The Delhi–UP release got badly bungled in that too many stations were covered simultaneously. For Calcutta we’re thinking of a single-print release. By August, we will also have our English subtitled print back9 and we can release that in Calcutta.
After the release of the last production and before the beginning of the next one, I always get acutely depressed. The best remedy for me in such a state is to go into complete solitude; catch up on my reading and let my thoughts wander; dream about the future and sort out the past.
Do please write to me; and if the situation changes I will try to come to Calcutta before you leave for London.
I hope boudi’s thumb gets better soon.
Yours,
Suresh
1/6/78
My dear Suresh,
Pablo10 dropped in this morning and gave me your letter. I agree with you that the film would improve, pace-wise, if the 2 scenes you mention were shortened. With the Outram–Fayrer scene this shouldn’t be a problem and I know exactly where the cut should come. With the Amjad scene, I’ll have to sit with a print and work out a possible way. It’s not as easy, because there are very careful and logical transitions from mood to mood leading to one of defiance. You may recall that it was because I realized that it wasn’t possible to justify Wajid without a great deal of verbalization that at one point I decided to drop the project. I persisted largely because you seemed so crestfallen when I told [you]. Perhaps I also persuaded myself that Amjad’s performance would hold the scene together. I now realize, as I’ve often done before, that it doesn’t pay to mistrust one’s instincts. However, whatever cuts are to be made will have to be made by me, and for that I shall need a print. Or would you rather have me come down to Bombay? I could do that in mid-June—stop over for a day on my way to London—if that’s not too late for you.
Now for your second proposal. While I can assure you that there is no feeling of bitterness left in me, I’m not sure if it would be wise to think of renewing a working relationship just yet. At any rate, I can’t speak for the rest of my crew. I have lost, at least temporarily, my zest for making Hindi films. The proposals which I have already been asked to consider are: (a) A documentary on Rajasthani music for French TV, which I have accepted and which will keep me occupied for the rest of the year; (b) A 3-part film for BBC (each 90 minutes long) on any subject or subjects of my own choice. Were I to accept this, it would keep me wholly tied up right through ’79 & part of ’80. (c) A proposal from UNO to make a film on the ‘horrors & miseries of war’, for worldwide TV screening. This one has only just come. (d) A revival of The Alien under a major US company backing with an updated script and a new title. This must be made soon, if at all. I’m waiting to find out whether we are free to go ahead without reference to Mike Wilson, who was originally setting it up, and Columbia—the original sponsors. In addition to all these, there are two Bengali subjects which I want to do very much. Just now I’m too full of the new film to think clearly ahead, but I see no way how you can announce my name along with Shyam’s. I hope you’ll appreciate my difficulty.
Yours,
Manik-da
July 27, ’78
My dear Manik-da,
I hope everything is going well with your new film.
The print of Shatranj was sent to Calcutta sometime back and I hope you’ve had a chance to edit it. I have no news from the lab regarding this, so please let me know.
The BBC contract was filed for registering 3 weeks back. You may have read in Screen11 that the JCCI and E12 are taking unduly long to register the overseas contract. They are still processing applications of 18th June 1978, whereas ours is of 10th July or so. It’s very infuriating and I’m breathing down their backs.
Mr Pallanca, who is doing the theatrical release, has been sent the spot sheets by me. To avoid confusion (like in America) I have sent him a photostat of your original.
The film is not faring well in Bangalore. We have released the original English version. I can’t figure out why.
There was again some confusion over the Cambridge festival. Pam telephoned Murthy at FFC13 to get in touch with me. I explained that I had already spoken to Carol Holsan when I was in London. I don’t know why the confusion occurred again.
The Indian High Commission in Australia has practically blown our sale by having a publicly announced show—this despite their telling me through FFC & the Directorate of Film Festivals that it will be an ‘Invitees Only’ show. I guess the spell of bad luck is still dogging me and it’s infuriating to be so helpless and not be able to do something about it.
As it is I’ve made enough enemies. Taking on the external affairs and I&B ministries will be a self-destructive exercise. God knows, I feel like doing it to prick some needles in their callousness. Maybe like most others, I should join the bastards—a terrifying prospect.
I’m in a quandary: Shatranj has wiped out my total liquidity and the recovery depends on overseas sales. So far they are slow but my agent in NY is encouraging. I am considering going back to the university for two reasons: to be able to dispel my ignorance and put all the experiences in a proper prospective, and the student life will be cheap. Also I need to rebuild my optimism and drive for an ideal cinema. It’s on the verge of crumbling like a sugar cookie. I’m just barely able to hold on. But like I told you in London, at least I had fun, and I do not doubt the final value of Shatranj as a film.
Regards,
Suresh
24/10/78
Dear Suresh,
Many thanks for the cheque. You’re right about the amount that you still owe me, but you can take your time over it.
I don’t know if Sunil has informed you, but Shatranj is a great success in Calcutta and will very likely run till the end of the year. Word of mouth is very strong and lots of people are going back for a second and third look.
The Gemini people are crazy to turn out such bad prints. Nambi14 was down here a couple of weeks ago and I gave him a piece of my mind, but they seem to be incorrigible. I must send them a strong note once again. Chakravarty, the distributor for our region, seems very upset that Sunil hasn’t yet delivered the 5 or 6 prints that he was supposed to. Do you know anything about it, and can you make sure that this is done without delay?
The latest issue of India Today carries a cover story on Shyam in which Shashi15 has a quote on Shatranj. Is he out of his mind? I can’t imagine a meaner statement from someone who is supposed to be among the more decent and intelligent of Bombay actors, and who is supposed to have stood up so far for serious, off-beat Hindi films.
We’re coming to Bombay on Nov 4 for the re-recording of the new film and will stay (probably) at the Shalimar Hotel for about a fortnight. Could you inform Tinnu please? I hope to see you there.
Best,
Yours,
Manik-da
Oct 24th, ’78
My dear Manik-da,
You must have received the copies of all my letters to Gemini, and must have also heard eyewitness reports on the prints. I just cannot tell you the trouble and agony caused by Gemini. They have consistently supplied us with bad prints.
Whatever the causes are, the fact seems to be that they just cannot/will not give us good prints. It will have an effect on them if you could write them a strong letter on the basis of evidence supplied by me.
One thinks that one’s cap is full, that all the bad that has to happen has happened, but no! One still has to be ready for more, because it never seems to end. Can only hope one’s inner core doesn’t crack, that’s all!
Warm regards,
Suresh
Oct 26th, ’78
My dear Manik-da,
Thanks for your letter.
Sunil has already been keeping me informed on the film’s progress in Calcutta, and I’m happy to hear it’s faring well.
Regarding the prints, I’ve already given them16 one more print, and another has been ordered at Gemini. Further prints can be supplied to them on payment, since the entire contract amount has not yet been received by me from the distributors. I think this matter is already being settled. From my side there is no problem.
I telephoned Gemini and they categorically told me that unless I pay they will not replace the print. Now this is a very surprising attitude, since I have paid them all their old bills. What is left to pay is for prints made afterwards, and there are some clarifications which they’ve not given me. Besides, it was settled that I will pay them on receiving the money from the BBC. It is obvious they agreed to this because they did supply us the prints for dispatch.
The new attitude is mere arm-twisting and blackmail, and their clutching at straws to get out of their responsibilities. The way future sales are affected is this: Yesterday I got a telex from my agent who is at Milan attending MIFED.17 We have an Italian offer but they want the negative to be sent to Rome for taking out prints. From the BBC experience they’ve lost all confidence in our quality. So I am in a quandary.
Still I hope they (Gemini) can see reason. Instead of acting tough they could try to give us the quality which they have in the past.
One always treads ‘the razor’s edge’ between a heightened sensitivity and paranoia. I do not know what to believe; whether the rumours that somebody has been bribed at Gemini to harass us are correct or not. The Bombay prints were sent without the censor certificates, which could have resulted in a confiscation of the prints and the banning of the release. The BBC prints being rejected means that we probably can’t play the film at the Academy18 till next year (as per Mr Pallanca’s letter to me). Whatever it is, the timing of both events has been such as to jeopardize us in a big way and delay the recovery of the investment. And to make buyers shy away from future purchases.
The only thing to do is wait and watch. Even ‘hoping’ seems to be meaningless.
I will be here when you come.
Regards,
Suresh
My dear Suresh,
Many thanks for the draft.
The Chess Players, as you probably know, has opened to superb reviews in London. I have received 3 clippings (Guardian, Telegraph and Observer), and all are first rate. A cable from Richard19 suggests that this is the general tone of most of the reviews. I was wondering if Karanjia20 could be persuaded to flash the news in Screen with suitable quotes. This may revive interest in the film at home, and also squash some of the rumours about lukewarm reception abroad.
New Delhi
Jan 31st, ’79
My dear Manik-da,
Thanks for your letter. I was already in touch with Francis21 to see if I could help in getting the clearances for the Rajasthan project;22 I am sorry to hear that it is now to be postponed.
I am very happy to hear of the London reviews. If you could send me the reviews, I am sure I could try to get a little write-up in Screen.
We’ve made sales to Iraq, Czechoslovakia, Poland and Switzerland (TV). Derek Hill is going to try to sell FRG23 and Scandinavia for us. For France, one M. Lescure, who is the president of an association of 800 art cinemas in France, saw the film and will try to get us an outlet in France. If Germany and France go through, I will be financially in the black.
Only thing is that the ‘traditional’ overseas territories are not yet selling. Unfortunately, Kumar & Shankar24 added to the scare by telling everybody the film is losing money in the USA. They’ve submitted me no accounts except saying the film has grossed ‘over $1,00,000’. In that case, how they’ve lost I can’t understand. Even in the past, we’ve exchanged letters in very strong language on this matter. This time they promised to bring details, but again the same vagueness and shilly-shallying, damaging the potential of the film.
They also have been giving the impression that they’re very close to you, and are making a film with you. I don’t understand what they’re up to, particularly Kumar. I really don’t care, except where they damage our interests, viz., Shatranj. Kumar may be shrewd (over-clever) business-wise but he’s a naive and foolish professional. Even a fly-by-night person in our line is more professional than him.
It was only to build up the saleability of Shatranj that I wanted the statistics and also because it’s my right since the film is on MG with them. Kumar doesn’t understand this basic fact of life. He also seems to have the ‘Krishna Shah delusion’—a peculiar characteristic of many Indians who settle abroad. The delusion being: We are white and all the Indians are bloody natives and the ‘Great White Father’ is going to take over because the ‘Blackies’ are so dumb. Kumar has surprises coming to him!
I’m mentioning the above to give you an example of how the problems come from unexpected quarters, and from people one implicitly trusts, who give the impression of being ardent supporters.
Junoon is doing average business. People are comparing it to Shatranj and are universally saying ours was a much better film. At least the audiences are discriminating enough to see that. Shyam has really taken a beating on the screenplay. But Shashi will not lose money. I don’t think the film could have cost more than 25 lakhs, using Shatranj as a reference. And Shashi has already got 18 lakhs from overseas, which is more than what we have got so far. We will get more once the block of the traditional circuits are broken. That’s where my anger with Kumar boils over. One is realistic enough to appreciate his hiding the returns from me, but to damage potential business, that’s unforgivable.
If you would agree, I really want to make another film with you. I can arrange the money, since my credit is still good. Besides, I’m hopeful more overseas sales will go through and money will be coming by the time we get ready.
I’m more convinced than ever that your films are commercially viable, so I’ve no fear there. Now, of course, I know the game much better.
I’m not a person who settles for second best. If you do not make a film with me, I will go to Shyam as the next best man. But my heart is not in it.
Manik-da, if you are not committed to anything yet, please let’s give it a go-together again. I know the ‘commercial walas’25 are scared—this time they’ll really run. And believe me, they will buy our film.
I’m coming to Calcutta in the first week of Feb (around 7) on my way to Orissa. If you’re there I’ll definitely see you, and if we can work out something together it will give me the greatest thrill.
My warm regards to everybody. See you soon.
Yours,
Suresh
For the advertisement and publicity of the film we travelled to various cities of the world. Manik-da was fun to be with both at home and overseas. He had the curiosity of a child, making every activity an adventure. Like an obedient schoolboy, he would carry a shopping list from his family and friends for Harrods, London’s famous department store, and would faithfully execute that duty first. Once that was done, he would get excited about going to a bookshop, music store or art supply store for himself. He looked forward to watching films and plays and visiting museums wherever we went, but not to social occasions, which he disliked with a passion. And yet, strangely enough, he seemed to have endless patience with the fools and social climbers he encountered when forced to attend these events, even though he saw right through them. Everywhere he went people instantly attached themselves to him in the hope of gaining profit simply from being seen with him.
I learnt a great deal from him during our travels—from film-making to lessons about every aspect of life and about living more consciously. Since he was a master of everything he attempted and a master of his emotions, just being around him was a constant learning experience. Sometimes the lessons were overt; at other times they were more subtle. When my blood would boil watching sycophants hover around him at public events, his patience would calm me.
Sometimes he taught me forcefully. On one occasion, I was all spruced up, ready to take the elevator at the Ashok Hotel in New Delhi, hoping to gain the attention of a gorgeous Sinhalese actress attending the same film festival we were, when the elevator door opened and there stood Manik-da.
‘Baba, you are going to see Andrei Rublev?’
No I am not, Tall Man. I’m on a very different mission tonight. And don’t you try to bully me into going. Besides, who is Andrei Rublev anyway? Never heard of him.
‘You have been seeing the Tarkovsky films, haven’t you?’
No, I haven’t. Don’t know him either. Some Soviet-financed propaganda film-maker?
I stood sullenly in front of him, wishing this encounter had never happened.
‘You must see it. It is one of the outstanding films of our times,’ he said, looking deep into my eyes before he vanished.
Of course, I never did take the elevator. I hurried over to Plaza, where I sat sulking, chiding myself at having given into him yet again, when suddenly something changed. I felt myself being transported into a world of calm and incredible beauty. A film so gorgeous in visual imagery that I just sat in stunned silence, even during the intermission; a film that is a gift and will inspire me forever.
Great teachers teach you gently. It is only they who know if and when the student is ready for the lesson. Their love for their students makes them compassionate, ever watchful of digressions, like an indulgent mother.
I had heard that Manik-da had wanted to be a painter. During the promotional tour of the film, we were at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts one day. The museum was closed to the public that day but was opened especially for us because it had sponsored our show. I can still picture him, standing thoughtfully before an exhibit, chewing on the plastic frame of his glasses, staring intently at a figure on an Inca fabric. I watched him silently for a few moments, wondering what was so engrossing. As if he could feel my gaze on him, he turned to me: ‘Baba, see this? This is why I gave up painting. One cannot possibly improve upon this.’
I was taken aback. Neither my knowledge nor comprehension was deep enough to fathom this remark, until one day I understood. Perhaps he had felt that he could never produce a body of work that could compare with the masterpieces of the art world, but by choosing the medium of film, Manik-da definitely created far better cinema than what existed around him. And for this I salute him.
In our many travels together, we had only one ongoing disagreement: He was indifferent to food while I am a gourmand. Flavour, texture, aroma, presentation are very important to me—most likely a reaction to my student days abroad as a strict vegetarian in meat-eating countries, where for years all I could find to eat in restaurants was bread, baked potatoes or French fries with ketchup.
One day we were having lunch at a London restaurant. As I watched him chew on a leathery-looking sandwich—which I would have immediately sent back—I felt deeply embarrassed at being his producer and providing him with such lousy fare. Not knowing what to do about the situation, I finally murmured:
‘Manik-da, how is your sandwich?’
‘It’s okay.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, hoping he would say something objectionable about it so I could send it back and get him a better one.
‘Yes. It’s quite good, in fact!’ he said much to my surprise.
Oh my God! He can’t be real! I thought to myself. But he really meant it. His working lunch was always just a sandwich along with a piece of mithai, paan and endless cups of tea.
We were at the Berlin Film Festival in 1977 where Shatranj Ke Khilari was an official competition entry. When Steven Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind, the closing film of the festival, started playing I was thoroughly amused when one of the projectors failed. So, it’s not only us ‘Third World’ people who have glitches, even the efficient Germans fail sometimes! After every reel the lights would come on in the auditorium while they manually inserted the next one. Finally, in the last reel the aliens came out of their spaceship. Manik-da and I sat there stunned, until we finally dragged our eyes away from the screen and looked at one another in total disbelief. The beings looked exactly like Ray’s description of them in the script and the sketches of his proposed film, The Alien, conceived long before in the 1960s.
The show ended and the lights came on.
‘Did you see that, Baba?’ Manik-da asked me with (for him) unusual agitation.
‘Yes, Dada,’ I replied sadly.
‘Did you see how the alien looked? Do you remember my sketch of it?’
‘Yes, I do, sir. It was exactly as you described and drew it in your script.’ I could hardly bear to look in his eyes. ‘I never would have thought that such a thing could happen in Hollywood; that they would actually stoop lower than our cut-throat Bombay film industry.’
The background to this travesty involves no less than David O. Selznick, one of Hollywood’s greatest producers. Selznick had instituted a film award in Berlin named after himself, which Ray had won twice in a row. The first time he won, Selznick magnanimously asked him to come to Hollywood—this was a man who had discovered Fred Astaire, Ingrid Bergman, Alfred Hitchcock, among many others, and had produced such immortal films as Gone with the Wind, King Kong, etc.—but Ray did not respond. The second time he won, Selznick invited him to a private dinner in Berlin. ‘Ray, why won’t you come to Hollywood?’ he inquired almost plaintively.
‘Mr Selznick, I have heard of your famous memos26… and I am sure I could never work that way,’ Ray responded with a wry smile. And that was the end of that. Selznick never could lure him into his film realm, but Columbia Studios finally did, and that is how the script of The Alien got to be written. In the film studio’s old manner of doing things, they assigned Ray a producer, who unfortunately fell out of favour with the studio bosses. The studio told Ray that even though they wanted his film, they could not do it with that particular producer. As luck would have it, the producer, Mike Wilson, had registered the film in both his and Ray’s names, which made the studio shelve the project. Meanwhile, the script went on to circulate in Hollywood for years.
Back in the auditorium in Berlin, reeling from shock, we were silent and remained so for the rest of the night. What could we say? That in the face of Spielberg and the awesome power of Hollywood we were mere ‘Third World’ film-makers who were only allowed a total allowance of 200 dollars a day for our business travels by the bosses of our myopic socialist republic? Where would we have the money or influence to fight this wrong?
Arthur C. Clarke, who wrote 2001: A Space Odyssey and was an admirer and friend of Ray, wrote a letter to the Times newspaper in 1984, stating that when he had mentioned to Spielberg that he might be accused of plagiarism, Spielberg’s reply had been a rather indignant: ‘Tell Satyajit I was a kid in high school when his script was circulating in Hollywood!’
Much later, on one of my visits to Calcutta, while sitting in Manik-da’s study, he opened a letter with a foreign stamp and postmark. He read the letter with unusual intensity, and then handed it to me. ‘Read this,’ he said, his voice flat.
I looked at the letter, my eyes immediately drawn to the letterhead, which read ‘Swami Shiva Kalki’. The contents were intriguing, all about surrendering the rights to The Alien—the only film Ray had ever agreed to do in Hollywood. But what was even more intriguing was that the writer was a Buddhist monk in Sri Lanka!
‘Remember The Alien, Baba?’ Manik-da asked me, a suggestion of resignation on his face.
‘Yes, sir. How could I ever forget?’
‘Well, this is from the person who was to be the producer of the film. Now, apparently, Mike Wilson has become a Buddhist monk and lives in Sri Lanka … and is concerned about his karma,’ he added ruefully.
At times, it is true that life is stranger than fiction.
Besides the striking resemblance between the images of Ray’s and Spielberg’s aliens, what I remember most about the whole episode was Manik-da’s verbal description of what he had written long before, which was identical to what was portrayed in the film: that the aliens were ‘benign by nature, small and acceptable to children, possessed of certain supernatural powers, not physical strength but other kinds of powers, particular types of vision, and that they take interest in earthly things’.
In fact, this was not the only science fiction he had written. He had published a whole series in the genre. It was a subject of great fascination to him.
And to this very day, some models for extraterrestrials bear a close resemblance to Ray’s sketches from the 1960s. So, the next time you see a picture, TV show or movie with a slim, silver-hued, shiny, wide-eyed alien, know that it arose from the ever-creative mind of one of the world’s greatest film directors.
22/11/79
My dear Suresh,
The report in India Today is not strictly accurate. ‘Mahakasher Doot’27 was conceived as a short story, not as a film script. Sumit Mitra, the India Today correspondent in Calcutta, knew vaguely about The Alien, and rang up after reading the present story to ask if that was the one I wanted to film. I said no, and gave him a brief account of what happened with The Alien. I was therefore very surprised to read the report in India Today.
Of course, there is more than the germ of a film in the present story, but this applies to most of the science fantasies I have written in the past several years.
Just now I have to make up my mind about the BBC offer before I decide on anything else. Hirak28 will take another month and a half to finish. BBC wants a film on the Raj period—preferably the time of the takeover. I have ideas on it and somehow don’t feel inspired; though the money and the freedom promised are tempting enough. I am in a peculiar state of mind where I find that the more the working conditions here deteriorate, the more challenging I find it. I have got so used to things not being laid out for me that I may actually find it unsettling to work in circumstances of ease and plenty. This may sound perverse, but that is how it is.
Perhaps you will come down to Bangalore during the festival when we could have a fine leisurely chat on future projects.
Yours ever,
Manik-da
15/3/82
Dear Suresh,
I’m sorry for my long silence: There have been problems with Ghare-Baire,29 which needed to be sorted out. We start shooting on 5 April.
There are no plans of reviving The Alien. In fact, the project is all but abandoned.
The incredibly hostile and stupid reaction to Sadgati30 in Bombay has put me off from Hindi films for the time being—although my faith in Beej31 remains unshaken.
I’m likely to be wholly wrapped up in GB (Ghare-Baire) over the next four months or so, and will think of what to do next only after that.
I hope your present undertaking is making a smooth progress.
Ever yours,
Manik-da
Dear Suresh,
Kamleshwar32 was here yesterday to say they were planning to show Sadgati on TV towards the end of this month. They want to make it a double bill with Shatranj and asked me to put in a word to you. I hope there will be no problem with this.
The shooting of Ghare-Baire has been postponed by 7 months. Doordarshan has asked me to do another short Hindi feature. I’m interested because it will serve as a companion piece to Sadgati and I could then exercise my right to exploit the two together commercially.
I hope your film33 is making good progress.
Best wishes.
Yours,
Manik-da
19 April ’82
Dear Suresh,
Doordarshan is upset that you should ask 2 lakhs for Shatranj for TV. They say that even normally you should be getting well over a lakh. I have been asked to put in a word, hence this letter. I hope you will consider.
Yours,
Manik-da
26/4/82
Dear Suresh,
Who was responsible for providing Doordarshan with the atrocious Hindi-dubbed version of Shatranj? For me it was a nerve-shattering experience. Also, the print doesn’t have the cuts I had made in the final version. The sooner this version is taken out of circulation the better. It can do nothing but incalculable harm to whatever reputation the film has acquired.
Yours,
Manik-da
21 December ’83
Dear Suresh,
Thanks for your letter. I got back from the nursing home34 about a fortnight ago and am staying at Gopa’s35 place to avoid callers and phone calls. I expect to be back home in a week’s time. Needless to say, I’m fully recovered.
I got a letter from Costa-Gavras, who is the president of the Cinémathèque,36 concerning the negative and the print of Shatranj. I have asked him to get in touch with you.
All the best.
Yours,
Manik-da
30 Aug 1985
My dear Manik-da,
I am unable to come to Calcutta this week, as the work I am involved in has got delayed. Some meetings I must have before leaving Delhi have not yet materialized.
The enclosed report is for your kind information. I will be obliged if you could find some time to go through it, and consider your and Sandip’s participation in the project37—should it materialize. In any case, I shall be grateful for your comments and views on the report.
I will be coming to Calcutta during the latter part of next week.
With warm regards,
Sincerely,
Suresh
P.S. In case you could participate in the project, the whole concept of getting ‘a dozen directors’ will be dropped.
30 Nov 1985
My dear Manik-da,
I shudder to think how pained you must be to learn that, yet again, the para-dubbed print of Shatranj Ke Khilari was telecast.
Enclosed herein is my letter to Doordarshan, which should explain my side. The print I gave them for the last telecast was checked and re-checked by me. The same was also seen by the art historian Dr Geeti Sen in Delhi, and she too can confirm that it was the original version and an excellent print.
I just hope you will understand that there was no negligence on my part and every possible care was taken by me.
With warm regards,
Suresh
Manik-da and I continued to be in touch throughout the remaining years of his life, by phone, by letter, at film festivals and during my visits to Calcutta. Our relationship remained as warm and friendly as it had been at the beginning, and thereafter, most of the time. As the years passed, we discussed future projects together, one of which was a film based on Mahasweta Devi’s Beej. Unfortunately, after his heart attack he was not permitted by his doctors to shoot away from Calcutta, so this project (requiring extensive location shooting) did not come to fruition. There was also another film we talked seriously about making, in which the legendary Amitabh Bachchan had expressed interest in starring, but which also, most unfortunately, fell through due to an unforeseen betrayal by someone close to both of us.