For as long as we can remember Naxalism has served as a recurring theme in Indian cinema, with both parallel and mainstream filmmakers using their craft to spotlight activities that unfold in the Red Corridor. However, it’s also true that many of these movies have often used similar plot devices, so much so that the scenes and characters end being stereotypical. Writer-director Chhatrapal Ninawe breaks that mould with his award-winning Marathi film Ghaath, which roughly translates as ‘ambush’. Streaming on Amazon Prime Video, Ghaath is a crime thriller, starring National Award winner Jitendra Joshi, Milind Shinde, Janardan Kadam, Dhananjay Mandaokar and Suruchi Adarkar.
Set in the jungles of central India, the plot delves deeper into human psyche to decipher the power struggle between the police, Maoists and indigenous people living along the insurgency-hit region. Ghaath had its world premiere at Berlinale 2023, where the director was honoured with the Giuseppe Becce Award, followed by screenings at the MAMI Mumbai Film Festival and the International Film Festival of Kerala. The film’s cinematography is done by Udit Khurana, with Navnita Sen in charge of editing. Meanwhile, Madhur Padwal has composed its music.
Ghaath marks Chhatrapal’s first full-length feature film. Previously, he has made a short film on farmers’ suicides in India, titled A Cheque of Death. In an exclusive interview with The Movie Mail, the filmmaker talks about the making of Ghaath, the inspiration behind its characters, his take on the emergence of Indian independent cinema, and more. Excerpts:
Q. Naxalism being a sensitive issue in India, what particularly inspired you to make a film around it?
A. I hail from Nagpur, but my grandfather used to live in the islet that Perku [a character in the film played by Janardan Kadam] called home. We often hear stories about Naxalite conflicts in Chhattisgarh. However, I wanted to focus on the Red Corridor in Maharashtra that’s closer to my ancestral home. I also love jungles, and wanted to weave a human story around these places and the people who live here. To be honest, all this has been brewing in my mind for a long time. It’s true that any narrative about these locations will be seen either from the Maoists’ or the government’s point of view, but through this film I desired to bring out the human perspective, instead. Of course, Maoism is so intrinsic to these parts of the country that we cannot avoid it in the narrative. But I can always use that window to make the audience feel more humanly toward the characters – be it the tribals, guerillas or police.
So, this was roughly the idea behind writing and directing Ghaath. I have known about these strife-ridden areas since my childhood days. That said, the Red Corridor in Maharashtra [mostly, Gadchiroli district] has been dormant for a long time. So much so, that we have even managed to shoot most parts of the film in these areas. The human angle remains the central tenet of the plot. The conflict and politics remain in the backdrop – in a very subtle and subtextual style, so to say. If somebody wants to explore it further, they can always go back and read about it. I feel, cinema as a medium comes with the luxury of telling a human story visually. As a filmmaker, my intention was to take the audience to those places about which they keep hearing in the news. I wanted to turn the narrative into a more immersive experience. At the same time, there’s also a deliberate effort not to bore the viewers, which is why we stuck to the crime thriller genre.
Q. Did it ever bother you that a film like Ghaath might run into trouble?
A. No, not at all. I never felt anything like that, because I was very sure about what I was making. I am telling a story from the tribal people’s point of view, and if that perspective is wrong in any way, so be it. Here, I am neither taking the government’s side or speaking in favour of the Maoists. For me, the story is more about the characters like Perku and Kusari (Suruchi Adarkar). They are my favourite people in the movie. So, there’s no reason for me to worry about whether the film may run into trouble. Even in retrospect, I would insist on the human aspect of the narrative.
Even somebody like Falgun (Dhananjay Mandaokar) is likeable, despite being brainwashed for most parts of the narrative. You’ll probably still root for him. Whereas, you cannot help but abhor the more powerful characters in the film – like ACP Nagpure (Jitendra Joshi) and Maoist Raghunath (Milind Shinde).
There was no negative feedback during the screenings or festival runs either. It isn’t about showing anybody in a bad light. I am simply telling a story from a human perspective. I have always been confident about my moral compass and patriotism. If you look at mainstream cinema (in all languages), many a time things are misrepresented. They are shown either from the left or right perspective, and somehow the tribals become stereotypical characters in a film. Ghaath is an attempt to break that mould.
Q. Ghaath’s ensemble cast has some very interesting characters. Each role is fleshed out and driven by a motive. What can you tell us about the characterisation process?
A. Before the onset of the Google Maps era, I had the habit of drawing maps before visiting a new place. That, in a way, gave inspiration to carve out the character of Falgun – a nondescript undercover who takes interest in cartography. Initially, the plot was limited to Falgun’s story – a suspicious person chasing a mysterious jeep on his bicycle. But what’s the motive behind? And who’s driving the jeep? These questions needed to be addressed, because if I don’t explain the character who’s in the vehicle, the plot won’t be interesting. Thus, what began as a short story was now developing into a full-fledged feature.
One thing led to the other and the ACP’s character started taking shape. He’s aloof, confused and burdened by inner turmoil. During this time, my co-writer (Vikas Mudki) and I thought of introducing this character called Perku, who’s the complete opposite of the policeman. But what if they become friends? Perku is a rather quirky and gregarious kind of a person.
Research helped me further flesh out this character. I took references from the tragic story of the ‘Man of the Hole’, an indigenous person who lived alone in the Amazon rainforest. Said to be the last inhabitant of Brazil’s Tanaru Indigenous Territory, he was found dead in August 2022. Another story that inspired Perku’s character was that of a Japanese man, who went into the jungle and lived there for 27 years, before government authorities brought him back to the city because of old age. These accounts made me wonder if Perku’s the last of his tribe, who lived in the forest and considered the river his mother.
Then came the character of Raghunath, who despite being a Maoist, eventually wanted to get away and lead the life of a layman. Like in the case of ACP Nagpure, Raghunath is also bullied by his seniors, demotivating him to remain in the movement. Kusari, on the other hand, primarily upholds the central theme of trust in the narrative. Be it in guerrilla warfare or the government trying to eliminate Naxalism from Central India, they need the trust of the local people. It’s the key factor in any operation. In the movie, you’ll notice a constant overlapping of trust and betrayal between ACP and Perku as well as between Raghunath and Kusari. These aspects developed organically and added more depth to the screenplay, which took us nearly two years to complete.
Q. Given the growing recognition of Indian independent cinema on global platforms, do you see this as a conducive time for non-mainstream filmmakers?
A. I feel that in recent times mainstream cinema or Bollywood movies have become increasingly commercialised. They stopped experimenting with themes and narratives. And that’s when producers with independent sensibilities started leaning more toward regional cinema. In film festivals, you get to see a good lineup of movies in different languages. When it comes to Marathi cinema, our films are often widely viewed, mainly these are some interesting projects made with a lot of passion. Another factor that probably works in our favour is that the cost of making and releasing Marathi films is comparatively less. Of course, there are hurdles that we need to overcome. But from time to time, you’ll see one or more good Marathi films making news.
Keeping aside the economics, independent cinema is driven by the simple need to tell stories that are either missing in the mainstream or are not allowed to be told. Thus, when an independent filmmaker does not get the freedom to give shape to their ideas in the mainstream, regional cinema fills that void. Film festivals further support this cause, as they look for limited-budget films that narrate stories that are more heartfelt, authentic and rooted. While American independent cinema is more about making a genre film, earning money and making another one, our films are more about expression.
So, is it a conducive time for independent cinema in the country? Yes, it’s a good time to tell different stories. As storytellers and artists, we are maturing. All the awards and recognitions we have been getting lately at Cannes and other global platforms testify to that milestone. But speaking from the commercial point of view, it’s not the best time yet. Although OTT as a medium started off to provide space for all types of cinema, the digital platforms are no longer supporting filmmakers as much. Only if you have the right contacts and the right kind of backing can you expect streamers to showcase your film.
Q. Any new films in the making?
A. I actually wanted to make this a trilogy, with Ghaath being the first part. The next film is not a ‘story succession’, but rather an ‘idea succession’. It’s about a hunt, with the plot focussing on two generations of a nomadic tribe. The central themes, atmospheric feelings and locations will be more or less similar to that of Ghaath. But it’s a different film narrating the story of marginalised people in a thriller format.
Apart from that, I am also working on a coming-of-age film. It’s kind of an autobiographical piece about growing up in the 90s in my hometown.
