Little justice to a maestro

It was not until 1946 - two years before Ceylon's independence - that the production of Ceylonese feature films began. Nor was the country's film industry autonomous at first, for up to 1952 Ceylonese films were made in the studios of South India and had minimal cultural relevance. All the more surprising, then, that within five years of the commencement of a truly indigenous industry, a feature from Ceylon was screened in competition at the 1957 Cannes Film Festival. The film, of course, was Rekava (Line of Destiny), directed by Lester James Peries. With this, his first venture, Peries established an international reputation, much as Satyajit Ray had done with Pather Panchali at the same festival the previous year.

Today Peries is considered one of Asia's leading directors. In addition he is the doyen of the Sri Lankan film industry. Like his contemporary, Ingmar Bergman, he is among the oldest working directors, having recently, in his 82nd year, directed his 20th feature, the Chekhov-inspired We-Kande Walauwa (Mansion by the Lake). Awards have been bestowed on his films worldwide, the most prestigious being the Silver Lion that Nidhanaya (The Treasure) received at the 1972 Venice Festival. Retrospectives of his work have been held at such venues as New York's Museum of Modern Art, London's National Film Theatre and Paris's Cinemathique Francaise. Furthermore, in 1997 former President Mitterand awarded him the Legion d'Honneur.

Peries began his career as a journalist in Colombo before travelling to London in 1947, where he worked at the office of the Times of Ceylon. A passion for cinema led him into the world of post-war amateur film-making in England. The first writings in Lester James Peries: Collected Works, edited by Piyasena Wickramage, concern this phase of the director's odyssey, during which he made experimental 16mm films, such as the award-winning Soliloquy. Peries admirably captures his early exhilarations, exasperations, and discoveries such as that "most people can act beautifully for short spells," which resulted in a penchant for using amateurs.

A turning point occurred in 1951 when Peries interviewed the English documentary film-maker Ralph Keene on his appointment as head of Ceylon's nascent Government Film Unit. Keene had seen Soliloquy and counselled the journalist to return to Ceylon to make films. After much persuasion, Peries took Keene's advice and joined the unit, where he directed documentaries on development issues. He left in 1955 on being offered the finance for the feature Rekava, the story of a young boy who accidentally becomes a village healer and whose gift brings tragedy and nearly his own death. Admired internationally for its humanism and lyricism, the film provoked criticism in Ceylon for its honest depiction of village life.

Peries writes of the film in "A New Chapter: Rekava" from the point of view of the screening of the rough cut to the distributor. Engaging though this is, it is regrettable that there is no separate account of the little-known and intriguing circumstances of Rekava's appearance at Cannes, which came about due to the involvement of the actress Maria Schell, who saw the film while on holiday in Ceylon and recommended it to the festival committee; the writer Paul Bowles, then resident on the island, who convinced a reluctant government to permit its export; and the film-maker Lindsay Anderson, who undertook a special edit.

"The Future of the Sinhalese Film Industry," written to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the national cinema in 1957, poses some searching questions regarding the direction and standards of film-making on the island. Frustratingly, many of these questions remain unanswered today. Peries quotes the (apocryphal?) story of the visiting American film historian who saw three Sinhala films and pronounced them the worst in the world, and continues by rightly stressing, "the future of the industry will depend on the extent to which we use stories which are rooted in our own soil."

In "The Need for a National Film Archive," written in 1957 when such concerns were deemed premature, Peries cautions, "We really cannot anticipate posterity" and urges that the preservation of the country's documentaries and features be considered of paramount importance. This is a cause Peries has espoused for four decades, yet little has been achieved due to bureaucratic indifference. With this article he anticipated the greatest shortcoming of the Sri Lankan film industry. For Peries it was a prediction with disastrous personal relevance today, for over 50% of the negatives of his films are either lost or decayed.

Peries' impeccable grasp of film history and understanding of the director's psyche is evinced in articles on Jean Cocteau, D. W. Griffith, Satyajit Ray, and the Taviani brothers. Other articles concerning the American and Australian film industries are noteworthy because of their Asian perspective. Perhaps the most appealing is Peries' recollection of the 1972 Venice Festival, at which Nidhanaya won the Silver Lion. Certainly the most poignant is Peries' appreciation of his long-time scriptwriter, A. J. Gunawardana.

Lester James Peries: Collected Works will be of particular interest to aficionados of Sri Lanka's finest film-maker, and to those concerned with Asian cinema. But Peries surely deserves a more exhaustive and representative compilation of his writings. During his time as a journalist alone he wrote many hundreds of film reviews and articles. Some of his more important recent writings on cinema are also absent. Apart from doing Peries little justice, this publication displays poor research and a large number of typographical errors.

The badly reproduced photographs do nothing to redeem its presentation. It is a sobering thought that the only respectable publication in English on Peries remains The Lonely Artist, written no less than one-third of a century ago by the recently deceased Philip Coorey.

Mix- up

There was a mix-up in names in last week's Kala Korner with Felix Premawardena's name creeping in, in place of Fitzroy de Mel, the veteran actor who died some weeks ago. Our sincere apologies to Felix for the error.

Felix is very much up and about and in his usual amiable style, laughed it off when I rang him up to say 'sorry'.

Felix, the veteran big burly actor who has been on stage for the past six decades is rather quiet these days. Many of us still remember him as the hunter in 'Kuveni' and as Irakli, the bandit in 'Hunuwataye Kathwa'. He switched to directing in 1970 with the highly entertaining 'Kaluware Jaramare' followed by 'Mara Bere' and four others. He created stage decor too in his productions. He was quite active in the sixties and seventies and after a fairly long silence, directed a play - 'Susie' - five years ago. His tally of dramas, both Sinhala and English, in which he has acted adds up to over twenty.

"It's a quiet life now," Felix said, having made a big contribution in the noble profession of teaching.

Magic fingers of Ravi & Krishna

It was so comforting to see the popular drummer-man Krishna back in action. Quite in contrast to the way we normally see him (bare-bodied playing the ghattam), he was neatly dressed in a white long banian and sarong. With the other master of drums, Ravibandu, Krishna was presenting 'Magic Fingers' at the Indian Cultural Centre (ICC). The programme was described as 'a colurful and vibrant lecture demonstration on use of traditional drums and percussion in modern day music'. It was colourful and vibrant alright! In fact, super fare!

On medical advice, Krishna had moved out of the scene for a while. 'Give up' was what the doctors had advised him. "How can I?" Krishna laments. It all started as a back ache and developed to serious proportions ending in surgery. All due to his lifting drums - he has so many and obviously quite heavy. That evening he didn't show any signs of discomfort. Obviously he was thrilled to see such a large gathering spreading to the back lawn of the Centre. Pity the sound system failed to carry what they said, right to the back. Yet everyone enjoyed the playing. Definitely we would have enjoyed the performance much more if we had heard the explanations.

Just as much as the duo was at their best, the flautist Priyantha Dassanayake was a treat. The two songs he played, 'C. T. Fernando's 'Malbara Himidiriye' and Amaradeva's 'Sasara Vasanathuru' continue to reverberate in our ears. And then there was the little drummer , Jitendra, Ravibandhu's son clearly proving that he is learning fast from the father.

Krishna did pull out his banian for the duet with Ravi - ghattam and the tabla. And then he introduced us to a heap of sounds using a washing machine tube, a 'sili sili' bag and other odd items. "This is all percussion. In fact, the body produces the best percussion," he said.

The climax of the show (even though Krishna insisted it wasn't one and only a lecture demo), came when they presented what was described as a nine beat rhythm cycle based on two 'ragas'. Ravibandhu played the Pakavaj, a North Indian drum and down the line, some of the traditional drums like the 'Gete Bere' and the 'Devol Bere' were used.

'Magic Fingers' may have meant a lot for connoisseurs of music. Even to ordinary laymen like me, it was a thoroughly enjoyable evening. Well done, ICC, once again!

Songs of praise

Before the commencement of any public performance each year, the Merry An Singers uses its considerable talent to acknowledge its gratitude to the Creator with a service of thanksgiving.

The freewill collection made at the service is donated to a charity or worthwhile cause. This year the donation will be towards refugee aid. All are welcome to share in the devotions and listen to the wonderful harmonies of nearly 100 voices. The Rev. Canon James Ratnanayagam will be the celebrant at the service in the Cathedral, Bauddhaloka Mw, today at 7 p.m. Neranjan De Silva will be at the organ and Mary Anne David will conduct the choir.