Deepa Mehta on the making of <i>Water</i>
Having
made
this
triumphant
film
do
you
think
the
struggle
has
been
worth
it?
Oh,
absolutely.
Absolutely!
The
fact
that
I
had
to
fight
for
five
years
made
it
a
better
challenge
for
me.
People
ask
me
if
the
script
has
changed
over
the
years.
The
script
hasn't
changed.
I
have.
Today
I've
been
able
to
look
at
the
same
script
from
a
different
viewpoint.
If
I
had
made
Water
five
years
ago
in
Varanasi
it
would've
been
a
different
film.
Was
the
shift
of
location
from
Varanasi
to
Sri
Lanka
a
bit
of
a
compromise?
It
isn't.
It
just
gave
me
more
freedom
to
do
what
I
wanted
to.
Varanasi
had
become
a
character
in
it
itself.
I
couldn't
handle
it
as
a
filmmaker.
As
this
gigantic
place
of
worship
Varanasi
had
become
too
large
in
my
mind.
Once
I
moved
away
from
Varanasi
I
felt
creatively
liberated.
Didn't
Sri
Lanka
shrink
your
vision?
I
think
it
made
it
larger.
It
gave
me
much
more
freedom
to
do
what
I
wanted.
The
canvas
became
much
larger.
You've
made
the
widows'
ashram
look
incredibly
squalid.
Didn't
you
think
would
put
audiences
off?
Not
at
all!
While
making
the
film
I
wasn't
thinking
of
the
audience
at
all.
I
said
what
I
had
to.
It's
been
such
an
incredible
experience
of
growth
for
me.
You
do
something
that
you
believe
in.
But
you've
no
control
over
how
the
world
would
react
to
what
you
do.
But
the
way
people
have
responded
to
Water....With
Fire
it
was
mostly
women
who
felt
strongly.
With
Earth
it
was
neither.
But
this
time
I've
seen
both
women
and
men
responding
emotionally.
Where
did
the
idea
for
a
film
on
the
abandoned
widows
come
from?
Eleven
years
ago
I
first
went
to
Varanasi
to
shoot
Young
Indiana
Jones.
That's
where
I
first
met
an
abandoned
widow.
I
followed
her
to
an
ashram.
It
was
a
bit
of
shock.
We
all
know
about
widows.
But
the
whole
ashram
syndrome
struck
me
as
being
utterly
poignant.
The
visuals
stayed
with
me.
When
I
decided
to
do
an
elemental
trilogy
I
knew
Water
would
be
about
these
women
who
lived
and
died
by
water....Water
is
the
ultimate
equalizer.
Either
it
gives
or
destroys
life.
The
film
concludes
with
some
main
characters
coming
to
extremely
tragic
ends...
Not
for
me.
I
saw
the
end
(where
the
raped
minor
girl
is
taken
away
from
the
squalid
ashram
by
the
Gandhian
hero)
as
hopeful.
I
think
The
rape
of
the
little
widow
Chuhiya
is
a
sacrifice
made
for
the
sins
of
society.
Chuhiya
is
the
catalyst
in
the
plot.
Whoever
she
touches
changes
in
one
way
or
another
Your
film
is
brutal
in
expressing
sexual
repression.
I
don't
shudder
from
the
truth
because
it's
the
truth,
and
the
truth
has
to
be
told.
Societal
discrimination
horrifies
me.
There's
the
other
cinema
which
doesn't
tell
the
truth.
That's
another
way
of
expressing
oneself.
I
guess
that
'brutal'
attitude
comes
from
the
harsh
reality
I
had
to
face
five
years
ago
when
my
film
was
stopped.
I realized more strongly than ever, that there's no point in trying to stop the harsh reality from coming out in the open. Life is filled with despair. But I finally found hope in my story.
Do
you
think
Water
has
the
potential
to
turn
into
a
reformist
film?
I
think
it
does...On
March
8,
Amnesty
International
has
chosen
it
to
be
the
film
of
the
year.
I
feel
silly
even
talking
about
the
impact
of
Water.
I
don't
think
I've
done
what
it
has
achieved.
The
film
has
gone
beyond
me.
Recently,
in
Ottawa
it
was
chosen
as
the
activist
film
of
the
year.
I
don't
know
what
it's
about
the
film...but
after
first
five
minutes
of
the
film...when
Chuhiya
asks
her
father
'For
how
long
am
I
a
widow?'
I
forget
I've
made
the
film.
There's
something
about
this
little
girl
and
the
other
characters
that
have
gone
beyond
me.
They're
calling
it
the
Water
phenomena.
I'm
inundated
by
people
responding
to
the
film.
And
they
respond
more
to
the
theme
of
humanitarianism
than
the
cause.
That
theme
comes
through.
I'm
so
glad.
Water
is
about
desire
and
hope.
I
think
your
Kalyani(Lisa
Ray)
is
a
tribute
to
Bimal
Roy.
Oh,
absolutely!
Kalyani
is
my
Bandini.
Water
is
in
many
ways
a
tribute
to
Bimal
Roy.
One
of
my
favourite
directors
Luis
Bunuel
said
that
one
of
the
ways
a
film
becomes
universal
is
by
staying
particular
to
a
culture.
Water
goes
into
a
specific
cultural
phenomenon-the
abandoned
widows
of
India.
From
there
it
goes
into
the
theme
of
deprivation
and
lack
of
dignity
in
all
spheres.
Post-Water
people
in
Canada
are
talking
about
the
persecution
of
the
aboriginals.
In
Karachi,
they
connected
my
film
with
the
plight
of
divorcees.
In
South
Africa
where
Water
has
done
extremely
well
they're
talking
about
apartheid.
Pain
and
suffering
aren't
restricted
to
any
one
community,
gender
or
culture.
Water
embraces
any
kind
of
pain.
It
means
different
things
to
different
people.
A
Jewish
women
in
Paris
told
me
Water
reminded
her
of
the
Jewish
community
where
if
a
girl
marries
outside
her
community
the
parents
blacken
the
mirrors
at
home.
In this context I love John's conversation with Lisa where he warns her that what's good in tradition shouldn't be allowed to die. I wanted the ideas to flow naturally from the film. In many ways, Manorama and Lisa Ray play the two polarities of femininity... Yes, one is the muddy Water; the other is the lotus flower. That's where Arjun's line from Bhagavat Gita came in. That's the line I told Lisa when I narrated the script to her. The only way my Kalyani can survive is like a lotus in the muddy Water. Lisa worked so hard. And can you imagine how well John has done! He learnt to play the flute and to say the Sanskrit lines. Not for a second do we feel he isn't Narayan. Many of the widows are played by non-professional actors. Mridula for instance is a doctor of Hindi literature from Pune. She always wanted to act. She was apprehensive about not wearing a blouse.
You
keep
going
back
in
time
through
your
films.
I'm
a
sucker
for
challenges.
I
believe
unless
we
know
where
we
come
from,
we
won't
know
where
we're
going.
If
and
when
Water
releases
in
India,
the
self-appointed
custodians
of
the
Hindu
religion
would
say
you're
selling
our
misery
to
the
West?
If
they
think
Hinduism
is
not
about
the
truth
then
I
guess
they're
right.
Why
are
we
so
scared
of
showing
the
truth?
Why
can't
we
question
aspects
of
out
tradition
that
aren't
so
great?
By
doing
so
we
don't
become
any
less
great.
Why
are
we
so
scared
of
showing
our
past?
Think
of
what
cinema
would
be
if
there
were
no
films
about
the
Jewish
holocaust!
Why
they
are
not
scared
of
showing
their
horrific
past?
Why
are
we
scared?
That's
the
question
for
another
film.
Why
do
we
want
the
West
to
think
so
well
about
us?
The
Making
of
Water
would
be
as
interesting
as
Water?
Maybe
later,
yes
I
would
like
that.
I've
made
a
better
film
than
I'd
have
five
years
ago.
What
can't
kill
you
makes
you
stronger.
Those
fundamentalist
protests
in
Varanasi
made
me
far
surer
of
my
script.
The
camera
did
and
said
things
that
the
characters
couldn't.
Don't
you
think
the
film
must
be
released
in
India?
It
must.
Right
now
the
Indian
rights
don't
belong
to
me.
But
I'm
not
angry.
I
couldn't
make
Water
until
I
stopped
being
angry.
It
took
me
five
years
to
stop
being
angry.
But
there's
a
lingering
regret.
Instead
of
doing
something
about
the
abandoned
widows
they
aren't
even
getting
to
see
a
film
on
the
theme.
It
makes
for
humbling
viewing.
I
felt
humbled
making
it.
Water
is
quite
lyrical
and
funny
in
its
own
strange
way.
I'm
glad
for
the
way
the
world
is
responding
to
it.
It's
so
sad
that
people
in
India
can't
see
it
yet