Perfect Cinema, where are you?
Where are you the cinema of Pure Images,
Pure Sounds…
Is there anything new at all?
A refreshing frame like a sunny morning during our winters
Or a tune that makes you see a moonlit valley of our autumns…
May be he was thinking. He thinks a lot, at least a lot more than he decides to imply. Taking a decision has always been so tough may be because he knows, the execution is going to be tougher. In an old town by the river, where no one can say whether it’s 2012 or 1932, standing on the stairs of a ghat at least 100 years old, finally he could make up his mind.
- I’ve decided
- What?
- I’ll make a film
- So, what were you doing all these days?
- No, not like that. A feature length film I mean.
- So, finally you father-in-law has decided to become a film producer I guess (giggles).
- You are not taking things seriously enough. Don’t you know me?
- (Laughter) OK. OK. Then?
- I don’t know, I just made up my mind and I’m not going to think about money right now. There must be a way.
- Fine, but what’ll be there in your film?
- You mean content? Story?
- Not that. I mean Sex.
- Fuck yourself!
- You don’t get it dude. Independently produced films do require naked women. It’s what the market demands.
They start moving towards home. They have a scooter kind of non-macho thing that no one would like to ride ever. It looks disgusting
- No, I know, but we’ll need a lot of money to hire such a woman. She’s going to cost me a three and a half feature length films of mine
- But, you’ll be rich, man. Just imagine – New york, Sundance, Seattle, Paris, Berlin, Budapest
- Ya, righto ! London, Athens, Chicago, Oakland --- Step into reality sometimes sucker. We won’t even be left with the money to submit at BYOFF
- Why? Ask your girlfriend to pose nude. Surely she can do this much for a piece of art.
- Sit on my lap, asshole! I’m going to ask your mom --- Auntiji, we are producing some art piece. Please untie your brassiere and pose nude in front of the camera.
- No, seriously
- Yes, seriously. Here’s your home. Get inside and stay there.
The other guy gets down and pokes with a vulgar expression on his face while the filmmaker seems to be deadly serious and sickened with the sick jokes of his friend.
- Did you mind? (The friend says with a giant smile. Evidently he is making faces now)
- No. Do I mind ever? I know that you’ve been a roaring psycho since your very birth.
- Come on man, It was just a joke
- Whatever! Just get lost! We’ll have a serious talk tomorrow morning
Without awaiting a reply, the filmmaker starts his scooter and starts to think again.
Time… why does it always seem to be like a road?
Why do the incidents occur, one after another, in such awful linear way?
Space…why do you tend to get filled so easily with vague objects?
Uncontrolled… Who is going to explain these patterns?
They seem so obvious!
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