Madhu Ambat can give up anything. But the camera

Taking Madhu Ambat away from his work even for sometime, calls for a guilty conscience. Ours not his! He reluctantly peels himself away and the next half hour is an enriching potpourri of his life and work – both of which merge so inseparably, it shows.

The film he’s doing at the moment is the Malayalam Makaramanju, starring another cinematographer in front of the camera for the first time. “Santhosh Sivan is playing the artist Raja Ravi Verma in this one,” Madhu tells us. So is this one all about the artist’s life? “Well, it’s not a full biographical account in that sense. It’s more inspired from Verma’s work, his painting of Urvashi and Pururavas, – characters in Indian mythology – the political turmoil of that period and Verma’s own inner conflicts as an artist. That sort of forms the story of the film.”

Known for his very distinctive aesthetics, there’s no question about how the mise-en-scène will turn out. More than two hundred films in nine languages and two National Awards later, it’s more a question of what treat to the eyes awaits us next. So is the visual style of Makaramanju inspired by Verma’s artistic style too? “No, it does not revolve around his style. I have instead used a combination of Vermeer’s strong sense of light and Caravagio’s contrasts to sort of show the turmoil of the artist’s mind,” he shares. We see a hint of all the thought that must have gone into a unique treatment such as this.

After more than three decades of being director of photography, film direction seemed like a natural progression. Madhu has just completed his directorial debut, and film in English, 1:1.6, An Ode to Lost Love. 1:1.6, by the way, is the ratio of a film frame, a lensman’s world view. There are a couple of more scripts that he’s written himself. “The first one I’ve titled, The Death of Madhu Ambat much against a lot of persuasion to change it,” Madhu smiles self contentedly. “It is somewhat abstract and deals with question of absolute realism. What is reality in the world of a filmmaker, for instance, who spends so much constructing a new reality for his film? So what is reality at all? It’s all about such questions.” And we are sure rather than answering any, it raises more questions. To this Madhu laughs heartily dispelling all notions of him being the terribly serious kind.

“The second one is called Black Moon, which is the opposite of blue moon, as in once in a blue moon.” So is this one also pretty abstract? “Well, no. It’s more philosophical. It’s about this woman who is trying to seek happiness from material wealth. Deals with loss, happiness and that sort of thing. Simpler story. More understandable than The Death of Madhu Ambat,” he smiles. We wonder if these offbeat films are meant only for the festival circuits or what. “Well, they can be multiplex releases as well, especially Black Moon,” he says. Competing with the more masala variety of films that we seem to love the most? “How can you know people might not like something without even offering them something different? And audiences are now a bit more open to different genres and ideas than they were even a few years ago. We are somewhere in the middle of being asleep and awake. Just a matter of time.” And from the filmmakers’ point of view? “It’s about looking beyond the tried and tested. Going beyond the masala. Getting out of our set frameworks and limitations. It calls for a paradigm shift, a change in attitudes more than anything else.” This is probably also the reason why we still lag behind despite having very good talent and technology. “Absolutely,” agrees Madhu, adding, “we have very good technicians and there is no dearth of good talent. What’s missing is the right attitude and approach. It’s usually one frog pulling down the other kind of attitude that a lot of people work with.”

Having grayed his hair in the industry (quite literally!) Madhu is the much respected, much loved guru of cinematography. At this his eyes turn moister and fill with affection. Right time to ask him who his mentor was when he started all those years ago. “Sethu Madhavan was my godfather, really,” he shares. “He changed the face of Malayalam cinema back then. I also worked closely with G V Iyer. We did 12 films together.” The nostalgia is hard to miss. So did he always want to be a cinematographer? “I was drawn to the arts. My parents (even so many years ago) gave me all the freedom to choose what I wanted to pursue. I decided to give it a shot and got through at the Film and Television Institute of India, Pune,” after giving up a seat at the IIT. Madhu’s father was a very popular magician, by the way. So did he learn some tricks from his father? “Oh yes,” he smiles at the thought. “I would also hold small shows when I was in college.” But after he started to understand the camera, no other kind of magic held his interest. He can’t stop watching movies and cannot not read. And he’s deeply introspective. The mélange of all this shows in his work. We wonder which films have made a lasting impression on him. “Apocalypse Now is one film that has the most amazing photography. Victoria Solaro writes with light! Then again like Pan’s Labyrinth for its mystical feel and Memoirs of a Giesha. 36 Chowranghi Lane is also quite well shot. Does he have a particular style? “Not really. With every project, I use something new and my style evolves.”

We revisit the classic debate then, on what should be more important – aesthetics or technology? “Technology in India is used to create gimmicks a lot of times. It should aid the visual and not take away. Good photography in a film is all about telling the story of the character and not coming in the way of the viewing experience. Like when you read a novel, you are drawn in by the effect the words create. That’s good writing, versus words that hamper and call undue attention to them.”