 "Neeraj Pandey heads in the write direction")
If Neeraj Pandey, writer and director of A Wednesday (2008) and Special 26 (2013), had worked on this article, he might have spent “a lot of time picking the font”. The 40-year-old, who believes there is one typeface to suit every genre of story, calls this his only writing ritual. Yet, for his recently-launched debut novel, an underworld thriller titled Ghalib Danger, the manuscript was in the neat and clean Calibri. “At times, I just like to try something new.”
Pandey is a fiercely private man. He is not often spotted on the party pages of entertainment dailies or talking about his work on TV. Generally described as media-shy, the co-founder of production company Friday Filmworks says he prefers it that way. His films have already demonstrated his knack for selecting absorbing stories to tell, but he does not share his own life chronicles as easily. Pandey’s Andheri office cabin too gives away little. It is compact with a low ceiling and window blinds. The grey-and-white walls are bare except for three picture frames: two photos and one poster of the cast of his first film. On a marker board, he has neatly jotted down dates of censor board meetings for the production house’s upcoming venture.
Kolkata-bred Pandey did not grow up wanting to write or make films. Cricket and soccer scored over academics for him in school where he flunked class 9. After discovering his shortcomings with the bat — the cover drive was proving rather difficult to master — Pandey turned firmly to another one of his early interests. His father, an employee of Bosch, had nudged him in the direction of reading and the works of Ayn Rand, V S Naipaul and Gabriel Garcia Marquez among others prompted him to pursue literature. Having been introduced to the films of Steven Spielberg and Orson Welles in his teens, Pandey realised in his early 20s that he wanted to see his writing come to life in visuals.
He shies away from revealing much about the struggles he had to undergo as a newcomer in Bollywood, saying that would be glorifying them. “I knew what I was getting into at that point of time and I knew there would be a certain price to pay for that choice.” Then, reluctantly, he adds: “There were many instances of meeting some very big people who had a different take about me then and now they have a different perception. But that’s life, I guess.”
One of those persons is — likely — actor Anupam Kher, who in an interview with The Times of India said he had initially found Pandey arrogant. Kher, who along with Naseeruddin Shah signed Pandey’s unconventional debut film and helped make it a hit, has worked on two more projects with the director since. It is not hard to see how that early impression may have been formed though. There is a quiet confidence about Pandey. He sinks deep into his chair like a teenager would while playing a videogame or listening to an Eminem song. His eyes are sleepy and demeanour so nonchalant, he looks a bit bored. On the odd occasion, he smiles as if privy to some forbidden information. His scant and carefully-considered answers do not make him an explosive interviewee but for all thirty minutes of the conversation, he stays attentive.
The release of his novel marks an interesting new phase for Pandey, who deems himself a director first. A book was always in the offing but finding a publisher in Penguin’s imprint Blue Salt became easy given his track record as a film writer. He is more forthcoming while talking about his creative methods. Pandey prefers working in solitude, making notes at night and writing in the day. His film scripts are finished solo, usually in less than a week. “I try to sort as much as possible in my head before I sit down to actually write. Then the rest flows organically.” Often, parts of the process tend to leave him a little empty. If a writer has not gone through that, something is lacking, he observes.
A Wednesday was rich with strong and memorable lines spoken by an ace cast. In the less-remarkable heist film Special 26, he exhibited a capacity for light humour. Pandey’s next writing effort Total Siyappa is a comedy that will be directed by Eeshwar Nivas of Shool (1999) fame. As a director, Pandey’s approach is to be organised. He finds the job easier since he writes his own films and includes details that he normally would not if he were scripting for someone else. “You’re talking about involving some 200 people’s time and energy, so one has to be sure and clear about what one wants at a particular moment.” He is also praised in the industry for having a keen eye for detail. Special 26, for instance, set in India of the 1980s, skillfully recreated the era on screen.
* * *
There is temptation to convert Ghalib Danger into a film, says Pandey, but he is not giving it too much thought. “When I was working on the book, the focus was strictly on doing full justice to this format.” Despite his claims, the novel seems to want to be a movie. A lot of it is conveyed in the form of dialogue. Set in a vast time canvas spanning from the 1960s to 2013, the book is fast-paced, introducing characters and telling us about them through flashbacks. It is largely bereft of frills or ample description.
The story is about the convergence of destinies of multiple characters. The protagonist is Kamran, a cocky taxi driver, who gets sucked into the underworld inadvertently and turns into Ghalib Danger. The chapters are speckled with relevant bits of Mirza Ghalib’s poetry. These are, however, never accompanied by English translations. The language is simple but there are sparkling hints of humour such as when a gangster laments the use of an unflattering photograph in the newspapers or when one don is envious of another’s cooler pseudonym.
While his two films and the novel have resulted in him being linked with the genre of crime, Pandey says he is drawn to every variety of stories. His first script was a love story and thereafter he penned a romantic comedy and a social comedy. The stories he chooses to narrate usually seem to be inspired by real-life incidents and enhanced by fiction.
But no part of his new book is autobiographical, says Pandey. “My life is just not that interesting.”
Pandey is a fiercely private man. He is not often spotted on the party pages of entertainment dailies or talking about his work on TV. Generally described as media-shy, the co-founder of production company Friday Filmworks says he prefers it that way. His films have already demonstrated his knack for selecting absorbing stories to tell, but he does not share his own life chronicles as easily. Pandey’s Andheri office cabin too gives away little. It is compact with a low ceiling and window blinds. The grey-and-white walls are bare except for three picture frames: two photos and one poster of the cast of his first film. On a marker board, he has neatly jotted down dates of censor board meetings for the production house’s upcoming venture.
Kolkata-bred Pandey did not grow up wanting to write or make films. Cricket and soccer scored over academics for him in school where he flunked class 9. After discovering his shortcomings with the bat — the cover drive was proving rather difficult to master — Pandey turned firmly to another one of his early interests. His father, an employee of Bosch, had nudged him in the direction of reading and the works of Ayn Rand, V S Naipaul and Gabriel Garcia Marquez among others prompted him to pursue literature. Having been introduced to the films of Steven Spielberg and Orson Welles in his teens, Pandey realised in his early 20s that he wanted to see his writing come to life in visuals.
* * *
In his book, Pandey credits his father with having taught him that “success is both boring and overrated. The more solid learning in life lies in failures”. After he was not accepted at the famed Film and Television Institute of India, Pandey picked up filmmaking skills during stints at Doordarshan and Zee TV. When he had first arrived in Mumbai to find opportunities in cinema, 80 per cent of the people he knew here stopped taking his calls. The first three films he wrote did not get made. Pandey’s maiden film, A Wednesday, was the fourth script he had finished.He shies away from revealing much about the struggles he had to undergo as a newcomer in Bollywood, saying that would be glorifying them. “I knew what I was getting into at that point of time and I knew there would be a certain price to pay for that choice.” Then, reluctantly, he adds: “There were many instances of meeting some very big people who had a different take about me then and now they have a different perception. But that’s life, I guess.”
One of those persons is — likely — actor Anupam Kher, who in an interview with The Times of India said he had initially found Pandey arrogant. Kher, who along with Naseeruddin Shah signed Pandey’s unconventional debut film and helped make it a hit, has worked on two more projects with the director since. It is not hard to see how that early impression may have been formed though. There is a quiet confidence about Pandey. He sinks deep into his chair like a teenager would while playing a videogame or listening to an Eminem song. His eyes are sleepy and demeanour so nonchalant, he looks a bit bored. On the odd occasion, he smiles as if privy to some forbidden information. His scant and carefully-considered answers do not make him an explosive interviewee but for all thirty minutes of the conversation, he stays attentive.
The release of his novel marks an interesting new phase for Pandey, who deems himself a director first. A book was always in the offing but finding a publisher in Penguin’s imprint Blue Salt became easy given his track record as a film writer. He is more forthcoming while talking about his creative methods. Pandey prefers working in solitude, making notes at night and writing in the day. His film scripts are finished solo, usually in less than a week. “I try to sort as much as possible in my head before I sit down to actually write. Then the rest flows organically.” Often, parts of the process tend to leave him a little empty. If a writer has not gone through that, something is lacking, he observes.
A Wednesday was rich with strong and memorable lines spoken by an ace cast. In the less-remarkable heist film Special 26, he exhibited a capacity for light humour. Pandey’s next writing effort Total Siyappa is a comedy that will be directed by Eeshwar Nivas of Shool (1999) fame. As a director, Pandey’s approach is to be organised. He finds the job easier since he writes his own films and includes details that he normally would not if he were scripting for someone else. “You’re talking about involving some 200 people’s time and energy, so one has to be sure and clear about what one wants at a particular moment.” He is also praised in the industry for having a keen eye for detail. Special 26, for instance, set in India of the 1980s, skillfully recreated the era on screen.
* * *
The story is about the convergence of destinies of multiple characters. The protagonist is Kamran, a cocky taxi driver, who gets sucked into the underworld inadvertently and turns into Ghalib Danger. The chapters are speckled with relevant bits of Mirza Ghalib’s poetry. These are, however, never accompanied by English translations. The language is simple but there are sparkling hints of humour such as when a gangster laments the use of an unflattering photograph in the newspapers or when one don is envious of another’s cooler pseudonym.
While his two films and the novel have resulted in him being linked with the genre of crime, Pandey says he is drawn to every variety of stories. His first script was a love story and thereafter he penned a romantic comedy and a social comedy. The stories he chooses to narrate usually seem to be inspired by real-life incidents and enhanced by fiction.
But no part of his new book is autobiographical, says Pandey. “My life is just not that interesting.”