Fragments of memory

With the triumph of her debut feature ‘Songs of Forgotten Trees’, Anuparna Roy has stepped into a space where only a rare few first-timers dare to dream. By winning the Best Director award in Venice Film Festival’s prestigious Orizzonti (Horizons) section, Roy now finds herself in the august company of auteurs like Luca Guadagnino, Amir Naderi, Jia Zhangke and Lav Diaz — filmmakers who once used the platform as a springboard to world cinema’s loftiest stages.

But Roy is not dazzled by the coronation. “Anurag (Kashyap) Sir told me once that an award doesn’t just bring recognition — it brings the responsibility to make better films, even when you are uncomfortable. I am grateful for that advice. The smell of success is nice, but it is also a reminder to stay humble.”

Roy’s cinematic odyssey has been deeply personal, stitched together with fragments of memory, friendship and loss.

‘Songs of Forgotten Trees’ is not merely a film but an elegy, drawing on her childhood experiences of caste discrimination, rural hardship and fractured bonds. She recalls her Dalit school friend Jhuma, whom her father asked her to abandon. “Back then, I had no idea about casteism. I followed his instructions. But later when I realised, it stayed with me like a wound. Jhuma was married off when we were just kids. The memory haunted me; I knew it would find its way into my stories.”

In her film, memories bloom like trees, and songs carry the scent of loss. The film’s protagonist, Thooya, played by Naaz Sheikh, hums her late mother’s song — an intimate melody that Roy borrowed from Sheikh’s own life. “Naaz is a dear friend. I had heard her mother’s song so many times that it became part of me. I decided to use it in the film because it felt organic. For Thooya, it became a motif of happiness and longing for her mother in Bombay.”

Roy’s filmmaking is steeped in the grammar of images rather than verbose exposition. “My approach was always less expressive in terms of dialogue. I focused on metaphors, motifs, and images more than direct verbal expression. That is how I like to communicate.”

It is here that one senses her kinship with this year’s recipients of the Golden Lion for Lifetime Achievement — Werner Herzog, best known for making two of cinema’s masterworks, namely ‘Fitzcarraldo’ and ‘Aquirre, the Wrath of God’; and Kim Novak, the quintessential Hitchcock blonde from ‘Vertigo’, both of whom she met in Venice. Their encouragement left her overwhelmed. “I have always admired them. To have legends like Herzog and Novak walk up to me and applaud — it was like a dream. I felt so honoured just standing beside them.”

It is ironic yet heartening that Roy’s woman-centric film was backed entirely by male producers and friends. She recounts their contribution with deep gratitude. But the turning point was when Anurag Kashyap came on board to present the film. “He has a simple rule: if he likes a film, he will present it. If not, he won’t. We were fortunate he liked ours. That gave the film its wings.”

For Roy, the journey into filmmaking was fraught with challenges — financial, social and institutional. “The gender discrimination I faced was not just from family, but also from institutions. It was very difficult to navigate everything all alone initially. But then I met people who believed in me, and that gave me the courage to continue.”

Her advice to aspiring filmmakers is straightforward: “The journey is unpredictable. It requires hard work and patience. It’s not hard to make a film, but it’s very easy to give up. You have to stick to your idea, and be honest about your storytelling, your craft, your process, and your team.”

For Roy, the accolade is the opening act of a global cinematic journey. “I am not just representing Bengal. I am a global citizen. Cinema has the power to cross borders. What begins in a small village can echo in Venice. That’s the beauty of it.”

— The writer has served on the jury of various film festivals as well as National Film Awards