|
|
Menzel, anyway, is not a
man of many words. Not just because he thinks his fairly good English
is not up to the mark. Even in his films, visual frames speak more
than the dialogues. Indeed, he agrees, "Cinema is the art of
visuals for it’s a medium meant to be seen not heard." Yet most
directors, including that of Hollywood, he feels, pay more attention
to dialogues. But in his home country, he reveals that when a
screenplay is written, equal attention is paid to the visual language.
Sense of humour, too, he asserts, is a national property of his
country and an integral part of artistic works since the 16th century.
No wonder, it impregnates his bittersweet cinema laden with sarcasm
and irony. His feel-good films, however, are not purposeless. As he
says, "I don’t want to sound pretentious or intellectual. But I
don’t make films for idiots either."
Interestingly, dark, depressive melancholia, too, isn’t his cup of tea. His films like the opening film of the IFFI Don Juans revolving around Mozart’s Don Giovanni end on a note of optimism and hope. He quips, "Life is not so stupid, but not a big trouble either." A sense of humour, he asserts, is not only good for cinema but our general health too. His, of course, is not acquired but one that he lives with and shows ample flashes of. As he wears many hats — those of an actor, writer, director — he says he is most comfortable when he is home. Anyway, making films for homegrown audiences is what he thrives on. Not that he holds viewers in great esteem. On censorship, his views are rather radical as he asserts, "Freedom is for adults." Sadly, he believes, most viewers have the mental makeup of 12 year olds, are not grown up enough to value liberty and freedom, and hence, films have to be monitored. Though sex is an integral part of his films, he is totally against vulgarity, often used as a ruse for freedom of expression. The Czech New Wave Cinema to which he belongs is not just a label for him but an entire thought process of making films differently from his predecessors and, of course, Hollywood. And it’s this original perception of life that pulsates in his cinema that makes his movies universal and compelling the world to acknowledge him. Closer home, in India, his subtle yet forceful cinema impels Shivendra Singh Dungarpur, maker of the much-acclaimed Celluloid Man to make a documentary on him.
|
|||