15 August,2021 07:08 AM IST | Mumbai | Jane Borges
The filmmaker uses a slew of props, including masks, through the film. She says that people often disguise themselves, to hide their bruises. “Strong is the weakest mask,” she feels
We are in a familiar room, when we connect with the multi-hyphenate Sapna Moti Bhavnani over a Zoom call early on Thursday morning.
Behind her is a mannequin, standing against a window; the walls are a shade of mint green or probably, fern - it's hard to tell - and the space, despite the overcast sky outside, is well-lit by ceiling spotlights. This, until she switches them off, because the glare is blinding her laptop screen.
Barely 12 hours ago, we'd been in this same room, but in a film, watching two lovers traverse isolation - the kind many of us experienced during the Coronavirus-induced lockdown. Only here, there's a difference. "Sapna's house was a character [in itself] in the film," feels Rajshri Deshpande, who has joined us for the video chat along with Anshuman Jha. The two actors play the couple in Bhavnani's new outing as filmmaker titled, My Dog is Sick (64 minutes). "It felt like Anshuman and I were playing in her house. Every object in her home, be it the bed, her side table, or cupboard, relayed an emotion. We didn't feel like we were alone. At one point, I had this feeling of being surrounded by hundreds of people, when there was nobody really. I think that's because Sapna has been through so much, and all those experiences shine through in whatever she does, even her home," Deshpande feels.
My Dog is Sick comes close on the heels of Sindhustan (2019), Bhavnani's last feature-length documentary about the migration story of the Sindhi community told through her own familial history and the tattoos on her body. The film travelled to 21 festivals and won nine awards. Her new film is genre-defying. Renowned Australian film critic Alexandra Heller-Nicholas who found it to be a "radicalising experience", said it could "superficially be described as a feminist experimental horror film". Yet, it's hard to pigeon-hole this one. Not only is her cinematic language unlike anything we've been exposed to, the theme is also largely alien to the Indian audience.
The filmmaker explores the idea of dominance and submission in relationships. But, this is just not sexual, as understood in the BDSM (Bondage and Discipline, Dominance and Submission, Sadochism and Masochism) subculture. It's also emotional. The idea, she admits, fell onto her lap, at a bar. "I was having my drink, when this older woman came up to me, and said, âHey! Can you see any guy out here, who I can pick up, and who is older than my 36-year-old son?' She immediately had my attention. I got so intrigued by her that I asked her if she'd role play for me, just for fun. There was this young boy out there, and I said, âImagine you are in love with this boy, and he is treating you like crap. But, you are like this dog, who feels only love. What would happen?' Taking a few swigs of her drink, the woman
replied [nonchalantly], âIf a dog can love you unconditionally, it can bite you too. But, I won't bite this man, I will eat him up.' When she said this, everyone listening to us, including this boy, fell silent. Then she said the most amusing thing. âPhir main bahar jakar ek golden tatti loongi [I will go out and take a golden dump]. I have eaten, digested and thrown this boy out.'"
"But, why golden?" Bhavnani remembers asking her. "She said, âBecause that's how I feel Sapna... That's how I feel'." The production team ended up creating this golden poop just for the film (from glitter and clay), and which she admits took three weeks to perfect, eventually becoming part of the teaser.
With My Dog is Sick, Bhavnani has also become the first Indian woman director to premiere her film at the New Horizons International Film Festival, held this month in Poland. The movie has no dialogue, relying solely on the acting prowess of the cast, and the background score, which is haunting to say the least.
Both Jha and Deshpande admit they had no knowledge about the world that Bhavnani was trying to recreate. "I have been a dominatrix [the person who takes the dominant role in a BDSM relationship] before," says Bhavnani. "A lot of people think if you are a dom, you are in-charge and in a position of power. But, if you understand BDSM, the one who is submissive, also known as the sub, really enjoys all of that, while not doing any work. So, who really is in control here, and who is the power figure? These are important questions to examine even in [regular] relationships and life."
Jha, who has previously worked in an erotica film, Mastram (2020), says that being an actor gives you the opportunity to visit worlds that are otherwise unfamiliar to you. "I see it as a human experience. Sapna is someone I trust, and when you collaborate for a project like this, it becomes a very important factor. So when she came to me with the idea, I'll be honest, I didn't understand a lot of it [BDSM]. But, there are so many things that I don't know about...like football. Does that mean I'd never play a footballer in a film? Of course, I would. In this case, I had a director, for whom this was also experiential; so, I trusted her vision," he says, adding, "There was nothing overtly vulgar [in the film]. Aesthetic is a very thin line. I had someone like Sapna and Rajshri around. I am always very comfortable when intelligent women are handling [a film]."
For Bhavnani, consent was most important when attempting such a film. "I was very particular about it," says the filmmaker. "And I am not just talking about consent between the actors, but also whether I, as a director, could touch them, or if the DOP could shoot in a certain way. Every single person on the set took consent from each other while shooting the film. That's what made us a family; we all were comfortable knowing that everyone would do their best in making sure that everything is projected correctly."
Bhavnani, who is also a leading celebrity hairstylist and the founder of Mad O Wot salon, also makes an appearance in the film, wearing an identical pink wig as Deshpande. For the viewer, it appears that Bhavnani is mirroring the protagonist's insecurities, but then she also seems like a twin, roaming in the same space as her, doing the same things like the character, swinging, sleeping and introspecting, opening up the film to
several interpretations.
The props - from the mask, muzzle, collar to the wig, and netted skin - add more layers to the conversation. Bhavnani feels that people often disguise themselves in masks, to hide their bruises. "Strong is the weakest mask," she says. Deshpande adds, "Slowly as the film progressed, I discarded them all. But [that posed] many questions. Can we do that forever? How many times do we have to shed our skin to feel free? I kept asking the same questions again and again after our shoot, and they will haunt me forever till the time I will really know the meaning of freedom and can meander gently into life."
Jha feels that the freedom in the film came from how fluid it was. "Even the cat [another character, and Bhavnani's house pet] was free to act," says Jha, adding, "That's what convinced me about the script. It was honest and pure, and got me out of my comfort zone. It also touched on the aspect of pain. Pain is not necessarily negative. It can be therapeutic if embraced and this is one such nuanced work that reflects that. It's silent [literally] and that's its biggest strength in a world, which is screaming to be heard."