He is Hindi cinema’s most recent bad guy. It began, perhaps, with Madras Café (2013) and then we saw Prakash Belawadi in a series of similar roles (negative, one could say, but best categorised perhaps as ‘grey’ characters) in Talvar (2015), Wazir (2015) and Airlift (2015). A sample of his tryst with these roles was also witnessed in last year’s Kannada release, Kendasampige. Belawadi himself sounds surprised when asked about this cine-tryst of his, for theatre has been his stronghold and his identity, he says. Excerpts from a phone interview.
Was the big bag guy move planned?
Absolutely not. I’m a theatre director, the back stage guy. It was after my role in Madras Café , that I was flooded with these roles. Now, I pick and choose and restrict it to four to five films a year. But if someone from Mumbai has to come looking for me and offer these roles to me, it means that something special is coming my way. I’m quite lucky to get some of these scripts. I’m right now in Kolkata shooting for another Hindi film.
But the same kind of roles aren’t being offered to you in Kannada cinema…
Scripts in Kannada have still not found that kind of maturity. Yes, a lot of young directors are beginning to write and, hopefully, they’ll find the maturity to write good scripts. But at the moment, it is not there. Kannada cinema is moving in a direction that is a welcome departure from the past. Whereas in Hindi, in the last decade at least, there is some good cinema and it is finding an audience as well.
Are the working styles and processes different if you compare the two industries?
The most crucial difference is at the first interface itself. In the Hindi industry, a casting director will first call you and tell you about the film — that a particular director is doing the film and will give you a teaser outline of the story which is enough to interest you and give you a hint of the role. If you say, yes, then immediately the director will call and explain the story in detail. Most of the time, they send the entire script. Then they’ll call again and discuss the script with you. The production staff will call you only after you have agreed.
So, the entire approach is creative first. However, in Kannada, the production manager will call you first. Most times, the directors do not even talk to you. Sometimes, if you are lucky, senior producers may call you, which is slightly better. Young directors call sometimes but mainstream directors don’t bother. They don’t send you a script. I don’t even know if they have a script. If you ask for it, they don’t even call back. The production manager will be arguing with you to give you updates etc. How does this work! The planning and scheduling should ideally be done by the direction team, not the production team!
Hindi cinema also embraces changes eagerly. For instance, in Hindi they insist on the use of sync sound. Whereas in Kannada, they insist on dubbing. Often heroes choose these heroines who may not know the language but are good at dancing or whatever. It is another matter that roles offered to women in the Kannada industry have no substance whatsoever. Kannada cinema is slow to adapt. But I’m hopeful that the younger generation of filmmakers will change things gradually.
There is a lot of emphasis on giving out a message in Kannada cinema with every film…
That’s what I mean by a lack of maturity. A message should come from the experience itself, from the aesthetic. If you want to just announce the message plainly, then you’d rather indulge in sloganeering. Why make a film? Over time, Kannada cinema can learn nuance also perhaps. Right now, I feel sorry that it is not there.
