International Herald Tribune | The New York Times
A lens on the Malaysian margins
By Lim Li Min
Published: Tuesday, April 5, 2005
KUALA LUMPUR — Ethnic Indians have been living in Malaysia since the 19th century, but little about their estranged community has been committed to celluloid. "Chemman Chaalai," made by the Indian-Malaysian director Deepak Kumaran Menon, is only one of two films in the country to have done so. The measured, low-key film, made almost entirely in Tamil, deals with an especially marginalized section of the Indian population: rubber estate workers.
"We were brought into the estates, and we are still in the estates," said Menon, 26, whose spartan production house is located in a working-class Indian neighborhood in Kuala Lumpur. The film is his first full-length feature. Intense, he talks and gesticulates quickly, shoulder-length hair framing his face.
Indians are the smallest of the three main ethnic groups in Malaysia and control only about 1.5 percent of the country's wealth. Malaysia's ethnic Malays have traditionally been the country's administrators while the Chinese have generally been in command of the economy.
Indians began arriving as laborers in then-Malaya in the 19th century as workers on British rubber and oil palm estates, once the mainstay of the country's economy. But thousands of ethnic Indians have lost their jobs in recent decades as manufacturing and service industries have supplanted agriculture.
Made for a budget of $40,000, or about 152,000 ringgits, in 15 days, "Chemman Chaalai" was shot in digital video and was funded entirely by Menon's father, Shanker Menon, who is the film's executive producer, and Tan Chui Mui, the producer. The film has been screened at the International Film Festival in Rotterdam and has been invited to the San Francisco International Film Festival. It had a nearly two-month run in commercial cinemas in Malaysia.
Set in the late 1960s, "Chemman Chaalai" is about Shantha, an impoverished girl from a rubber estate who is determined to attend university. But she faces major obstacles. She may have to start working because her family needs money for her eldest sister's dowry. And at a time when girls were not traditionally encouraged to study, her ambitions in her small estate community are unprecedented.
Menon never thrusts any one character under the spotlight for long, framing them instead in long takes, letting the human drama unspool gradually.
Despite being born and raised in urban Kuala Lumpur, Menon is no stranger to estate life. His grandfather was an estate supervisor from Kerala, India; his mother spent all her life on a plantation until she met Menon's father. Menon's childhood also provided plenty of material; he spent many school holidays with his grandmother in a southern Malaysian estate. She spoke only Malayalam, a Kerala dialect, to him; he whiled away long days by throwing stones at passing trains, he says. In the film, a train, a mere blur, passes by the estate, which Shantha looks at longingly. Life on an estate might be hermetic, but there's always a sense in the film of a greater world - and opportunities - out there.
"'Chemman Chaalai' is the story of my mother's life," said Menon, who lectures in animation at a local university. A primary-school teacher and occasional writer for a local Tamil daily, Sooria Kumari, his mother, penned the script after watching Satyajit Ray's Apu trilogy films together with her youngest son. "There were 13 children in my mother's family. She always placed a lot of emphasis on education, but she had to forgo university education for the sake of her siblings," he said.
The film struck a deep chord with the ethnic Indian community. When placing advertisements for actors in local Tamil dailies, Menon received more than 30 calls a day for two weeks. "I was so surprised," he said. "They came by bus, they took the train, but they all wanted to tell their stories."
The stereotyping of the Indian community in Malaysian movies has long irked Menon. His cast was "fed up with the over-exaggerated portrayals of Indians on TV; it wasn't how they were. They wanted the freedom to be themselves," he said.
In Malaysia, the majority Malays have legal privileges that the Indians and Chinese do not. Smaller in number and less vocal than the Chinese, Indians have been marginalized both economically and politically, a problem that is only beginning to be discussed in the country's mainstream press.
But rather than painting a bleak picture, Menon's film is upbeat. In the film, Shantha's parents are happily married, her family close-knit and largely supportive of her ambitions. "Chemman Chaalai," meaning the gravel road, "is the way out to the larger world."
Menon co-founded Onehundredeye, a production company, with his father. Shanker Menon, 62, used to work tarring roads, then became a mechanic. But his interest in photography blossomed into a passion for film.He set up an editing suite, taking students under his wing at home. He also tutored his children in film editing. "I've been carrying cables around since I was 9," the younger Menon said.
That hands-on experience proved useful in the making of "Chemman Chaalai." Menon worked with a minimalist on-set crew of five. He faced the challenge of lighting the film with costly studio equipment at night. He asked actors to find '60s-style clothing from their families. But he had an even greater obstacle in promoting the film to potential investors."I had to completely storyboard it before anyone would give me an appointment," he said.
While the government has supported mainstream directors, almost all of that financial help has gone to ethnic Malay producers.
Malaysia's film output, at around 20 films a year, makes it a difficult market to crack. Most films, some headlined by local pop stars, are of dubious quality. Despite this, a new wave of young, independent directors and digital cameras have opened cheaper avenues of filmmaking. Largely ignored at home, their works have found recognition abroad. Yasmin Ahmad's "Sepet" and James Lee's "The Beautiful Washing Machine" have won awards at international film festivals recently.
Menon is conscious of the debt to his family and community. "I made this film for my parents," he said. "I wanted to make a film they could watch." He says his next film, also in Tamil, won't be quite-as sunny.
End.
