Somewhat restlessly comfortable in his unkempt, reel-stacked office, AshimAhluwalia could pass off as a typical, America-returned young film-maker,yet to unravel the nitty-gritty of the "business" of Indian filmmaking.Well, the image is not exactly true. You could call it an illusion, in fact.He might be fresh out of film school (in New York), but Ashim has alreadycompleted his first film — a documentary called Thin Air and now, heclaims to be as certain about an audience as he is about his own convictionas a filmmaker.
"This film is not for the West. It does not paint an exotic picture ofIndia.
"The backdrop is contemporary Bombay. It’s about three magicians — oneold, one middle-aged and one a child their trials and achievements. Eachstory is different, but the film does have a disquieting link between thecharacters. They are desperately trying to cling on to the lost glory of aprofession that is fast dying. It is ultimately a story of the outsiderstruggling to make an imprint in middle-class Bombay life."
There is Shailendra, a small-time entertainer, well into his fifties, whodeludes himself into believing that each time he performs his magic tricks,he steals the show. There is 13-year-old Kruti Parekh the world’s youngestmagician a year ago suddenly questioning her identity since it is sotenuously linked with her being the youngest ever magician and she is"growing old". And finally, there is Niranjan Mathur. A legend who forgetshe lapses into dementia and is forgotten. He lost his audience decadesago. "They are urban, middle class professionals and they have no otheroption but to confront the fact that magic does not cast a spell on peopleany more."
In fact, they did not cast a spell on Ashim and his crew either. Before theyset out to shoot, they didn’t have any of the three in mind. They startedrecording candid interviews with magicians across the city. "The mostdifficult part of the filming was to be with them all the time whereverthey performed, whatever they did. We virtually invaded their private space.But that was the only way we could make them comfortable with the camera.
Initially, most of what they said was contrived. Shailendra painted a veryrosy picture of his profession. Before we shot his first show, he convincedus about his popularity. When we started rolling, we captured the contrary.The few kids who were in the party gave him only half-hearted attention.Their parents were just not bothered. The story of Niranjan Mathur was verydisturbing. At times, he did not know what he was saying. In fact, heexpired before we completed the film. Kruti’s story was again different.
There are moments in the film when you can see her parents goading her intodoing and saying things. It was above all, a rich, yet depressingexperience." No wonder the film has a tragi-comic tone "by turns darklycomic and unsettling". Thin Air bagged the Best Film Award in the SouthAsian Film Festival at Kathmandu, which also acted as an impetus for thefilm to go places. "We’ve screened the film in many cities includingHyderabad and Guwahati." Ashim attributes its appeal to the treatment. "Itdoes not make any statements. We decided on the subject off hand. It was notout of any fascination with magicians. That way, we had an open mind. Westarted shooting randomly and later arrived at the angle the film finallytakes."
For the moment, Film Republic, Ashim’s own production company, is alsotaking work from wherever it comes even from freelancers to make ad films "after all, that’s where the money comes from". But as of now, Titoo andJamini Ahluwalia’s son is looking forward to the screenings of Thin Air. AndAshim shouldn’t be disappointed. The subject apart, the digitally producedfilm is a good-looking one. It is also making an appearance on theInternet. Magic or no magic, this one probably won’t vanish into thinair!
— Thin Air at Little Theatre, NCPA. On March 1. Time: 6.30 pm. Visit:kilima.com/thinair.