Resul Pookutty: I will speak my mind... no political system made me

As of now, I don’t have any concrete plans. Honestly, this came as a surprise. I was part of the general council when Kamal was the chairman, so I have some idea about how things work. But I really need some time to understand everything better. There’s already a structure in place, and the upcoming festival has been planned. So, please give me some time — and a little patience. So far, the general perception is that the Academy’s role is limited to conducting the film festival and giving awards.

However, we need to think beyond that, especially regarding how technology — particularly generative AI — is emerging as a significant challenge. If the Academy can play a meaningful role in educating young filmmakers and guiding them on how to use such tools responsibly, it would be a big step forward. Just as smartphones transformed our lives two decades ago, we’re on the brink of another major shift — between 2025 and 2035 — when AI will redefine how we live and work.

When sound entered the silent film era, many of the biggest stars of the time faded away. They were legends in the silent period, but because they couldn’t adapt... couldn’t sing, in many cases... they had to give way to the new generation. In every art form, technology has always played a part in its evolution. So, naturally, some — especially the older generation — feel concerned about AI, while the younger ones are excited. I’m both. I’m excited because of the possibilities it offers.

But I’m also concerned because, from my experience with digital technology, I’ve seen both its promise and its pitfalls. Technology has definitely made life easier, but I’m not sure it has made it qualitatively better. It’s the same with cinema.

Today, AI can take your input and give you an output instantly. But to get the right output, you need knowledge, training, and an academic foundation. If you don’t have research, innovation, and academics, we will only be telling stories. That is what literature does. Literature doesn’t need innovation. It just needs imagination. But filmmaking needs innovation and imagination. The Academy has to be part of that change, leading from the front.

Neither law nor institute was in my plans. I actually wanted to be a physicist. And I thought I would study and conduct research in superconductivity and win a Nobel prize. And I thought I will invent a superconductor. That was one of my favourite subjects. I thought what is going to change the world in the next millennium is the concept of energy. But unfortunately, man proposes, God disposes. It won an Oscar instead of a Nobel. I would have really loved a Nobel (smiles).

I didn’t get admission for MSc Physics. So, I applied for law. While I was doing law, I came across an FTII advertisement for admission to a course called sound recording and sound engineering. The basic qualification for the course was BSc Physics. I applied thinking I can continue my love for physics. I cleared the entrance but I failed the interview as I had no real understanding of cinema.

In the one week that I spent in Pune, I discovered cinema. I came back and for the next one year that I spent at the law college, I studied art. I went to poetry gatherings and watched films. The newspaper column called today’s events became my friend. After one year, I had gained some confidence. I also had something to fall back on. I went to FTII with a lot of confidence and got admission.

(Laughs) Yes. That’s the minimum. I wasn’t willing to take anything less. Or a lawyer like Nani Palkhivala.

When Satyajit Ray was awarded the Oscar for Lifetime Achievement in 1992, I was the saddest person in the institute. I rued that he took my chance (smiles)! Then I thought I would come out of the institute, make a film, and that film would win an Oscar. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought that I would win an Oscar for sound.

Yes, I had been offered jobs in studios in the UK and the US. But I always wanted to remain in India. In the US, when the offer came, I was working on James Cameron’s crew, and anybody would have grabbed it. I thought if I went there as a worker, then I would be a slave. But if I go as a client, the entire equation will change.

Whatever I am today is because of FTII. I went there as a wild beast from a small village in Kerala. I had never seen anyone from any other state before that. FTII gave me an opportunity to interact with and know people from different regions.

The communist movement in central Travancore took birth in my father’s house. Umma was not orthodox but very pious. My mother married at the age of 13. She has been through a lot during her married life due to my father’s communist connections. For us 10 siblings, penury and starvation were our companions while growing up. All these hardships shaped me.

Yes, things have changed at FTII. But it is something that happens over a period of time. Everyone feels that their time at the institute was the best. Of course, many things have been watered down.

See, in a democracy, what do you do? A majority of Indians have elected a political dispensation. They will do whatever they want. Have they done anything wrong? We gave them the power to do the things that they are doing. The beauty of democracy is that we can change them. However, of all the countries that I have travelled to, I would say my country is the best.

It is the need of the hour. If we don’t change, our films will be rejected. The new generation has the appetite and also the opportunity to consume the best in the world at the click of a button. The beauty of Malayalam cinema is that we are still making films based on our people... our voices. What has Hindi cinema done? There is no middle class in those films. So what happened? Those films got rejected. The corporates came and destroyed Hindi cinema. But that is not so in Malayalam.

One day, while working in Ghajini, I received a call from a friend. He told me, “Resul bhai, there is one film Danny Boyle is making in India, and we are doing the line production. I have recommended your name for sound production.” This was a big moment for me. In my hostel room at the Film Institute, I had a poster of the movie Trainspotting. So Danny Boyle was the name I woke up to every day. I said I’m in.

(smiles) That was imbecile me, I would say, looking back. It was not racial discrimination. Let’s be very clear about it. I felt I was not being heard. We had challenges. We shot in a small room. All the small lights were making so much hum, which was undesirable. When I’m doing live mixing, I want to see the action live and I want to see it through the monitor. We didn’t have any space. So I found a space near the roof.

We took two or three shots. In one shot, the cameraman just looked up and he saw me. He said, “Hey, Resul is in the frame,” and asked me to come down. I said no because that was the only spot I could get. I felt very offended. Danny also supported him. I said that wasn’t right and I was quitting if that’s so. Danny came up to me and said he was sorry for having made an error of judgement and asked me to stay. So, I went back. Now, I thank God that I went back… (laughs).

Please amplify the fact that there is a lot of music that doesn’t allow a rewatch. That should go down to the directors and producers. They think that if the sound is low, people will shuffle in their seats. People shuffling while watching a film is not a good thing. So everything has to be loud. That is the idiom of mainstream cinema and that’s very sad. That’s the difference between Hollywood and us. They make it a point to ensure a pleasurable viewing experience.

That line came from an experience during a shoot. The tubelights were making a constant ‘keee’ noise. I thought of it as an unwanted sound and decided to dub that sequence. But when we played the dubbed version, something felt off. The sync track — with that faint ‘keee’ noise — actually worked. It created tension in the scene. That’s when I realised: what I thought was noise wasn’t noise at all — it was part of the environment, adding emotion. Now, I tell actors: “When you’re in front of the camera, I’m not just recording your dialogues… I’m also recording your presence — every movement, every breath you take within the frame. Those subtle sounds define your character.”

A R Rahman wasn’t originally part of the film. I was the one who mentioned his name to Danny Boyle. The song ‘Jai Ho’ didn’t even exist when we were shooting. We had filmed ‘Aaj Ki Raat’ (Don) for that sequence. We were shooting at Mumbai’s VT station between 2am and dawn, after the last train had left and before the first one arrived. It went on for days. During one of those long car rides from Juhu to the station, Danny played a bunch of Bollywood tracks he liked — around 28 of them. Out of those, 22 were by Rahman. Danny turned to me and asked, “Who is this guy?” I told him, “He’s known as the Mozart of Madras.” I told him that if he’s considering an Indian composer, he must consider Rahman. The rest, as they say, is history.

Why should I be concerned? Is this a post that does not allow me to speak? If so, I have no qualms about throwing it away. I will speak my mind. I’m an independent artist, and no political system made me.

I almost died making that film. It wasn’t a mainstream subject, but I tried to pitch it as one. Earlier, a film would fare well if it had a ‘family film’ tag, and I made a family film about today’s children and their troubles. I was very disappointed and took the responsibility for the film not doing well. We also didn’t get the right release window.

Yes, but I don’t know if that would be my next. It’s a very relevant and moving story. I want to tell the younger generation about how Kerala was around 70 years ago. We were an evil society that discriminated against people based on where they were born and asked women to pay taxes for covering their bodies. Kerala’s transformation is drastic.

That’s a film I really want to make, but the current political atmosphere doesn’t allow me to do that. It isn’t because of those in power, rather the overall atmosphere doesn’t allow actors to take it up. I had three big mainstream stars agreeing to it initially, but later they asked if I could change the premise. I said I can’t because there would then be no film. I can’t help but wait till the political climate changes.

Excellent. The current generation of filmmakers has changed the whole paradigm of Malayalam cinema. The Malayalam cinema the world knows today is not because of the movies made by the likes of Adoor, Aravindan and Shaji N Karun. It’s the films made by these young boys. They are the ones who redefined Malayalam cinema. Of course, Chalachitra Academy, the state government, and the cultural landscape have also contributed to it. And don’t forget the huge contribution of the diaspora living in Arab countries. They produce 40 to 50% of Malayalam mainstream cinema. I want to do something for them through the Chalachitra Academy. Why can’t we think of something like an IFFK for the Malayalis in Dubai or Abu Dhabi or Muscat?

Rain. Basically, sound of water – from rain to the water flowing down a stream.

It’s a misconception. Sound is actually the memory, not visuals. At midnight, if you hear a car’s braking sound, you think something bad has happened, right? Maybe an accident. It is the sound that is poking your memory. What are our Vedas? Knowledge. Easily memorable sounds.

Go back to the roots, read literature in your own language. What makes Malayalam cinema stand out? It is rooted in Malayalam literature. In Hindi cinema, there is no Hindi literature. So, language is the most important thing.

For me, silence is an emotion that I arrive at in a film or in a human situation. It is not a sound for me.

I don’t think those were my dreams. I never worked in a film thinking it is an Oscar-worthy film. I only worked and worked and worked. I was trying to refine myself in every work I did. That brought me rewards. When it came, I was delighted. When it did not come, I didn’t feel anything. That’s the emotion I carried out of the film institute. That you don’t want to be famous. You don’t want to be rich. You don’t want to be known. You don’t want to be anything. You just want to be an artist. Just keep on doing your work. I’m still in the same mentality, I feel.

Paulo Coelho is a very big philosopher. He probably had his own reasons to say that. Finding me in the same league as Paulo Coelho is a privilege, I would say. An honour... (folds his hands).