Missing from postcards

They usually return with a predictable set of stories — about the serene monasteries, the pleasing monks, the surreal weather, the wonderful snow, the rugged mountains, and all the remote wonders of small town life.

But it’s not often that you hear about the Ladakhi film industry. Did you even know of its existence? The local film industry in Ladakh, a relatively new one, has over the past few years become a rage in Ladakh, making Ladakhi films more popular than Bollywood films which also have a huge fan following there. Perhaps that’s why filmmakers Samreen Farooqui and Shabani Hassanwalia decided to document this fairly obscure film industry which was revolutionised by the arrival of digital filmmaking, making it possible for Ladakhis to tell their own stories at a reasonable cost.

When Samreen and Shabani first visited Ladakh in 2006, they discovered that the Ladakh that they were experiencing was surprisingly different from the Ladakh they had imagined it to be. In popular tourist destinations like Ladakh, people often land up with preconceived notions of the place, failing to explore beyond what is crammed into their travel guidebooks. Out of Thin Air, a documentary film by Samreen and Shabani, attempts at shaking off some of the typical exoticism surrounding Ladakh by showing a lesser known side of its people — their passion for cinema.

“Las-del, Las-del, Las-del!Calling all grandmothers and grandfathers... elder sisters and younger sisters, elder brothers and younger brothers, children and parents. Come, come to your community hall at 7 pm, for Las-del, Las-del!” a man announces through a loudspeaker from a  Maruti Van which cruises through winding roads surrounded on either side by vast stretches of land, a few houses and mountains. You can’t miss the wind howling in the background, or the toll of bells. On a poster on the van, a girl with heavy jewellery holds peacock feathers against her face. Thus begins Out of Thin Air. The poster on the van is of Las-del (Karmic Connection), a film by the Ladakhi Vision Group, one of Ladakh’s leading production companies.

One of the most fascinating aspects of the Ladakhi film industry (it cannot be called Lollywood as L has already been grabbed by the Pakistani film industry) is that it is built by its local people — teachers, monks, police officers, taxi drivers and housewives. So when Norbu, a Buddhist monk, is not chanting prayers, he could be writing love songs inspired by the moon or choreographing “modern” dances. An admirer of Himesh Reshammiya’s style, he even grows a beard and wears a cap when he steps out. A T-shirt he wears in the film is a good way to describe his personality — ‘Same same, but different’. Norzum, a police officer and a popular actress in Ladakh, dreams of acting in Bollywood someday. Bored of doing “facial expressions for sad songs,” she says ruefully, “I want the kind of roles Kajol does. Those naughty ones. I find her very cute.” And Zulfikar Ali, Public Works Department employee and taxi driver, popularly known as Zulzul, is Ladakh’s favourite cinematic villain.

Driving forces

It was Del-wa, Ladakh Vision Group’s third film that actually persuaded Ladakhis to stray away from their regular share of Bollywood films. Del-wa had them so captivated that soon there was Del-wa merchandise being sold. Yet Ladakhis remain smitten by Bollywood. How then did Ladakhi films get so popular? “Rigzin Kalon, a Ladakhi filmmaker, told us that the Ladakhis may aspire to be like the Bollywood heroes and heroines but they don’t relate to them. They want to see someone who looks and feels like them,” say the filmmakers.  

There is also anxiety in the Ladakhi society about losing their traditional culture. In fact, the Ladakhi Vision Group attempts at reviving traditional Ladakhi values through their films. “When Del-wa ended on a note of re-incarnation where the lead pair wore western clothes, the public was angry. Ladakh Vision Group has reshot the end, taking out the western clothes part,” explain the filmmakers.

Typically, the films that do well in Ladakh are love stories and family drama. Action films have the tendency to fail. “Just make them cry and it’s a big hit,” chuckles Tashi Dawa, a former wedding videographer whose action films haven’t done well in Ladakh. But why do only the tear-jerkers pull crowds? “By their own admission, Ladakhis are emotional people and enjoy watching romantic films or family drama. Their films reminded us of our yesteryears, of Madhuri Dixit and Sridevi, of Amitabh and early Aamir Khan of Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak, lovers who stand by their women and shun the world at the cost of their lives. Oh such romance, it had to be preserved somewhere,” say Samreen and Shabani.

But it’s not just about the romance. The wonderful thing about Out of Thin Air is that it reminds us that it’s not always about the money. Though the Ladakhi films are made with small budgets, they are “made out of love” for cinema, as Zulzul points out. Films that explore local film industries, like Out of Thin Air and Superman of Malegaon are important because they show us that passion counts, and imagination too, which is always reassuring.