It has been 12 years since Shyam Benegal made a movie. His last was Well Done Abba (2010)—a political satire on the water crisis in a village. Now, at 87, he is helming Mujib: The Making of a Nation, a biopic on Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the first president of Bangladesh and later its prime minister. Rahman was assassinated with most of his family in 1975; only two members of the family survived—daughters Sheikh Hasina, the present prime minister of Bangladesh, and Sheikh Rehana as they were both in Europe then.
What kept the ace director and champion of Indian parallel cinema busy for more than a decade? A number of things, he says, including a TV show and membership of committees and boards and the chairmanship of the Film and Television Institute of India, all of which he has now pulled out of to concentrate on filmmaking because “when one doesn’t have too much time left, one must do what one enjoys”.
After a brief pause, he cheekily adds, “I was just not getting enough work. Basically, that was the truth. People don’t necessarily choose to be out of the public eye.” He smiles warmly as he looks at his core team that is seated on the opposite table inside the office of the National Film Development Corporation (NFDC), which has collaborated with him on the project.
Benegal carries with him an enviable zest and passion that belies his age. At the poster launch of Mujib, he remains seated on a chair for over an hour and a half, answering back-to-back questions until at one point after an interview he politely asks for a cup of masala chai. He turns down a plateful of “healthy” snacks, requesting instead for “spicy, masaledaar samosas”.
Known for classics such as Ankur (1974), Nishant (1975), Manthan (1976) and Bhumika (1977), Benegal has won several awards, national and international. His deep understanding of history and ability to dabble in diverse cinematic genres, including documentaries and biopics like the one on Mahatma Gandhi and Subhas Chandra Bose, with elan is evident in his body of work. Yet, by far, he says, Mujib remains one of his ambitious projects.
The film’s live location shoot took place in Bangladesh, whereas on-set shoots happened in Delhi. The film’s cast is entirely from Bangladesh—Arifin Shuvo plays the title role, Nusrat Imrose Tisha plays the role of Rahman’s wife Sheikh Fazilatunnesa and Nusraat Faria Mazhar plays Rahman’s daughter Sheikh Hasina. “Behind the camera it is us, in front of the camera it is them,” says Benegal.
Rahman was no stranger to Benegal though. “I have a whole library of books about him in my office, most of it in Bengali, of course,” he says. “Among other things, one of the aspects about Mujib that impressed me were his oratorial skills, and in the film I have tried to recreate them in the exact manner as they were delivered.”
Ask him if he revisits any of his films and he replies with an emphatic “never”. “Films have the misfortune of becoming dated very quickly,” he says. “I can’t bear to see my own.”
Excerpts from an interview:
Q\ Do you think history has been A\ kind to Mujibur Rahman?
History has not been unkind to him because he has been recognised for what he has done. But what was unkind to him was the fact that his life was cut short. There is no political figure who is not controversial because if a person who occupies a public chair is non-controversial then he or she is not worth thinking of. And, I don’t think they would have achieved anything either if they had remained non-controversial.
Q\ Did you have to edit certain parts of his life from the film?
A\ No, I never did that. We were never asked to leave out any controversial parts or delete or cut any scenes. There was no kind of taboo. I was free to make the kind of film that I wanted.
Q\What is your own understanding of the man?
A\ I think he was undoubtedly a statesman who was an exceptionally good orator. We have recreated two of his most famous public speeches that commanded large audiences. Those are also the highlights of the film. Personally, when I think of Sheikh Mujib, I always think of one of the Shakespearean heroes. To me, he was nothing less than that. There is a saying of his—’My greatest strength is that I love my people and my greatest weakness is that I love them too much.’ He has created a nation and that is his biggest contribution to history; nothing more is needed. That is good enough. Largely what we learnt came from the research done by my writers.
Q\ Why did you choose Bangladeshi actors for the film? Did Shuvo do justice to the character?
A\ Even before he acted in my film, Shuvo used to re-enact Mujib’s speeches in Dhaka as public performances. I knew him, but I wanted to find out if he would be right for the role. He stood out in the auditions. We had auditioned a large number of people for the role. Shuvo is slightly taller than Sheikh Mujib, but I noticed the passion with which he wanted to do the role; he seemed so keen. He came to my hotel room in Kolkata where we were doing the auditions and said ‘I don’t know whether you will take me or not but this is one role I have to really do.’
Q\ Last year marked 50 years of the 1971 war. Was the film initially slotted for that?
A\ Yes. It was meant to be ready then. But three things came in the way—floods, a dreadful locust swarm and the pandemic.
Q\ Does your film treat Rahman with undue reverence?
A\ It is a human story. It takes the side of humanity. For me, the most important thing was the discovery of the man himself and all that he had achieved in his life before it was cut short by the assassination. He was only 55. There are two things when you are making a historical film about a person—what the impact of history has been on that person and how he, in turn, impacts history.
Mujib fought for democratic values and principles. I have only tried to be as objective as possible. There was no reason to bring in my subjectivity into the picture, also because there was an element of empathy with the subject. This is not a confrontational or a controversial film. It is a balanced portrait. I remember when he was told that there could be attempts to kill him, he said, “Now what? Should I fear my own people?” It was this trusting nature of his and his undying love for his people that also became his tragic flaw.