Who was John Abraham? A demure filmmaker with long, unkempt hair and piercing, intelligent eyes, who pioneered the wave of realistic Malayalam films in the 70s and 80s? A man of stories, an unfathomable nomad, rebel and alcoholic, who emerged one of the finest avant-garde directors in Indian history? Perhaps his sister Susan Abraham’s words in a memoir describe him best: “Everything that the world knows about John Abraham is right and wrong.”

It speaks volumes about his legacy that, 31 years since the end credits of his life rolled, he lives on as a man, a myth, and a story unto himself. Here is a particularly illuminating anecdote: John was waiting for his flight to Italy, and the famous Flaiano film festival, where his 1986 film Amma Ariyan (Report to mother) was to be screened. He decided to go after clarifying that the organisers would arrange his food, accommodation and travel. Some of his friends arrived at the airport to see him off. One among them was Venu, his cinematographer (and later an acclaimed director in his own right). Venu quickly scanned John—a wraith with bedraggled hair and untameable beard, a bag slung over his shoulder, dressed in a loose trouser and a borrowed coat. Something was missing. No shoes! A master filmmaker heading to Italy, wearing a coat, but with bare feet! Venu ran to fetch a pair of shoes and socks. To this day, nobody knows if John planned to attend the film festival barefoot.

John Abraham graduated from the prestigious Film and Television Institute of India (FTII), Pune, with a gold medal in screenwriting and direction. There was a rebellious side to him, as he was suspended at least four times from the institute. He started his career assisting director Mani Kaul in the latter’s debut movie Uski Roti (1969).

John made just four feature films—including Vidhyarthikale Ithile (This way, students) (1972) and Amma Ariyan (Report to mother) (1986)—and three documentaries in his career, which lasted around a decade and half. But, a number of his scripts never saw the light of day due to his untimely death. Amma Ariyan made it to the list of top ten Indian films of all time, as curated by the British Film Institute. His 1977 Tamil language film, Agraharathile Kazhuthai(Donkey in the Brahmin ghetto), which satirised brahmanical superstitions, was adjudged the best feature film in Tamil in the national film awards. The film was banned in Tamil Nadu for hurting religious sentiments, and Doordarshan had to cancel its scheduled screening, owing to protests. But, now, it is considered one of the best Indian films ever made.

“Only a good man can be a good director. John was a good man,” writes photographer and actor N.L. Balakrishnan, a close friend of the director, in a memoir published by Malayala Manorama. He narrates tales about John’s benevolent nature. Once, John hired a rickshaw to the Statue junction in Thiruvananthapuram city. While disembarking, the driver paid him a compliment, saying that his jeans looked good. John asked him whether he would like to have it. Not stopping at that, he stripped and gave the jeans to the driver.

He cared deeply about the nature and environment. In a number of short stories, animals played the role of the protagonist. Aamayude Aathmahathya (Suicide of a tortoise), Plastic Kannulla Alsatian Patti (An Alsatian dog with plastic eyes), and Poochadukkham (Cat Despair)are some. During a press conference in 1983, a journalist tried to make fun of John by suggesting that “John in Brahmin ghetto” would have been a better name for his film Agraharathile Kazhuthai (Donkey in Brahmin ghetto). Within seconds came John’s witty reply: “How would the donkey face this humiliation?” With an animal as a motif, John was reacting to the exploitation and discrimination in the human world.

In 1984, he started the revolutionary idea of “people’s cinema”, with the formation of a collective named Odessa. John believed in creating a culture of audience who appreciated films for their artistic values. Also, he opposed the existing mode of film production and distribution. For that, the collective toured villages and college campuses, playing street dramas and screening classics like Charlie Chaplin’s The Kid, with 16mm film projectors. Odessa produced and distributed Amma Ariyan with the chanda (market) money offered by the common people. He was crowdsourcing before the word was even coined. The film was screened on a non-commercial basis. Across Kerala, Odessa organised more than 10,000 screenings of Amma Ariyan. It was John’s way of extending his support to the downtrodden. Protests against the privatisation of medical colleges, ration rice protests in Fort Kochi, and a strike by rock quarry workers in Irinjalakuda, were documented in his film.

Like many of his contemporaries, John often found solace at the bottom of the bottle. And it cost him his life. Once, John visited Balakrishnan at a tourist home where the latter was doing a photo shoot. John asked Balakrishnan to take a picture where he posed as a dead body. It turned out to be grimly prophetic—on May 30, 1987, John slipped and fell from a terrace during a house party. He was admitted to the Kozhikode Medical College. But, allegedly, he did not get due medical care, which led to his death on May 31. If the unfortunate incident had been averted, there is no doubt that the face of Indian cinema would have been altered.

An earlier version of the article incorrectly mentioned that John Abraham attended the Cannes festival. The error has been rectified.

source: http://www.theweek.in / The Week / Home> Leisure> Society / by Nirmal Jovial / June 03rd, 2018