The Ship of Theseus by Anand Gandhi is a work of art. The paradox at the heart of it is this: if a ship is slowly rebuilt by replacing each of its wooden boards, is the resulting ship still the same as the original, even if none of the original wood is there? The movie remains just as potent and insightful ten years after its release, being both reflective and utterly unique.

On July 19, 2013, the movie was released in India. The 61st National Film Awards gave it the title of Best Feature Film of the Year. HT spoke with the filmmaker as the movie turns 12 years old about its lasting memories, unresolved issues, and perspective of the world where it has developed its own life.

'Looking at your old photos is similar to this'

When questioned if the filmmaker has seen the movie lately and whether his response to it has changed, Anand responds that he only saw it last year at a showing in Goa. I keep looking at my prior work, he continues. It's as if the light is coming from afar. In many cases, the stars we see in the night sky are actually nonexistent. After traveling millions of light years, that light is now finally reaching us. It's at a consciousness, a cognitive occurrence, a process that was constantly evolving, when I examine my previous work. It's similar to looking at your old images. It's not all that different from seeing images of your early years.

"This individual is the foundation," he says. Your main source is this individual. Even if this person is from your history, you can still observe them from a specific perspective. And you may recall this individual's shortcomings. You recall how incorrect this individual was in so many respects. When I consider the movie, some of their thoughts and feelings and some of their insights are quite similar. I can see it from that perspective, which is occasionally weird and foreign to me.

“I appreciate that I have that snapshot of the mind. By the time it reaches people, I mean, even in the making itself, a film takes, especially I take so long. I take four, five years to make a film. So, by the time it reaches people, it is already a star that has mutated or changed. So, it's kind of a snapshot of my mind from that time. And a lot of my ideas and questions have updated ever since. I basically see the building blocks of my current ideas and frameworks,” he says.

On the response to the film over the years

Is there a particular aspect of the film that stands out when people ask about it now? Anand replies, “Over the years, I've seen so many people react to so many of my films in such different ways. For this film, more so because there are three stories and three characters. There are people who resonate more with one and less with the other. There are people who resonate more with the end. There are people who feel that the end is too neatly tied together. There are people who love the philosophical exposition, and there are people who feel that it's too didactic. I've had a wonderful experience with such a wide variety of responses over the years. And that, in my head, somewhere has become a pigeon-holing technique of people. It's my shorthand to understand what kind of person I'm talking to, depending on how they're going to react to the film or how they react to any part of the film.”

He explains, “So, there are people who, for example, do use logic and reason as a means to frame the self and the world and the relationships between themselves and their environment. And they invariably resonate with the second story. And in that, again, there are two kinds. There are speakers who move freely between poetry and reason, and they resonate with Maitreya [played by Neeraj Kabi]. And those people don't necessarily resonate with Charvaka's character, because they feel that that character is too loud in his rationalism and not gentle in his approach to seeking. So, there are all kinds of wonderful responses that have accumulated over the decade that have really informed my own understanding of people more than the film.”

In the movie, one of the most memorable moments occurs when Aida El-Kashef's character Aaliya, who has just regained her eyesight, attempts to snap photographs in the center of a crowded Mumbai street. The sights, sounds, and hazy eyesight combine to create a stunning cacophony that conjures up feelings of restlessness and hyperactivity.

"My cinematographer Pankaj Kumar and I had decided that we'll be extremely thoughtful about every shot that we take at the time," Anand remembers that particular day of the shoot. We had attempted to rehearse this specific sequence, and the more I considered it, the more I understood that it had nothing to to with performance. The actor will not be recreated or interpreted in its entirety. I had established the rule of never doing it, but we will have to get into the subjective. I had never taken POV shots. I had imposed a strict regimen to the picture.

'I decided to be unbiased'

He adds, "We hadn't even done a POV shot, which is a typical blur-coming-to-focus kind of thing, when Aida's character Aaliyah first opens her eyes." We had made several decisions on what not to do. One of those was subjective POVs. For instance, we never see the world through Maitreyan's perspective, his direct perspective, or the subjective perspective when he is ill. When he's delirious, we don't see the world entering a fantastical cut-out, a cut-scene, or a jumble of meaningless events. We don't witness delirium occurring in front of us. Delirium is not shown on television. I didn't make it subjective, even though there were several points where it could have been. I made the decision to be impartial. I decided to stay outside the role and just watch them. I came to the conclusion that I need to be at the forefront of this field in this scene.

"However, what changed in this scene?" Anand asks, adding, "I still don't cut to POV as such, but I do see things from her lens. to cause the confusion, her camera lens, not her eyes. At the time, cognitive neurobiology devoted a great deal of attention to the topic of information filtering and how the absence of one sense would cause the other sense to become hyperactive. The act of filtering and integrating information coherently in the individual will be completely disrupted by the reestablishment of the lost sense. I wanted to make exactly that. My intention was to convey a sense of an overwhelming quantity of data in motion that she couldn't block out. I recall how enraged Pankaj was with me for failing to keep him informed about every shot. I knew there was no way I could prepare for all the shots. We had no choice but to enter and let anything happen.

“That’s really the only sequence in the film that I shot largely,” Anand says in conclusion. Right after that, we were filming a different scenario. Pankaj had a really busy day. Pankaj was determined to be well-prepared for the following scenario. It was meant to be her father's home. The entire song was about Aida's father, and it was included to explain why someone of semi-Egyptian heritage is in Bombay. Because her father lives in Bombay. The movie excluded the entire track. In the midst of traffic, this scene was filmed. In fact, it was the least rehearsed scene in the entire movie. We were rehearsing everything for that scene, but nothing was going right. Just like Aida, we had to be struck by the moment's spontaneity. That was the only way to make it work. The sole other option was to let ourselves be on the edge of the objective and subjective. In the same manner that information was storming past her, we really stormed past her. to emphasize her inability to grasp, capture, filter, and synthesize it.

Read Also: Nagesh Kukunoor Admits: “I Don’t Always Choose Stars, and That’s a Problem”
Get the latest Bollywood entertainment news, trending celebrity news, latest celebrity news, new movie reviews, latest entertainment news, latest Bollywood news, and Bollywood celebrity fashion & style updates!