PK Nair gave Indian cinema a timeless reel
The founding director of the National Film Archive of India (NFAI), PK Nair, passed away this morning (March 4) at a Pune hospital, his daughter Beena and son Bikash by his side. Nair Saab was over 80, and had been ailing for sometime, but no one wanted to believe that he would leave us soon. In late January 2016, I went to Pune to meet him and we spent a few hours talking about this and that. He was not well and looked frail. When I asked him about his health, he said: "Let's talk about the movies."
And then he gave me a big smile.
From the time he was very young, Nair Saab lived and breathed films. And later in life, when he became director of NFAI, there was no one as single-minded in his pursuit to preserve Indian cinema and associated film material. He would go to any city, any home, and talk to anyone if it led to the discovery of a long lost film print. He was knowledgeable about every kind of cinema, and knew PC Barua's work as well as he knew Jean Luc Godard's.
I first met Nair Saab in 1978 in Paris where I had organised a festival on Indian cinema. At first, he seemed a little fierce, very exacting. He was not one to suffer fools and had an instinctive understanding of who was who. If you genuinely loved cinema, he would help in any way he could with information and insight. His approach to archiving was never deciding whether one film was better than the other; he believed strongly that time curates classics and so the idea was to preserve films for time to do its job.
Over the years, I met Nair Saab frequently. And since 1978, I don't think three months ever went by without me calling him for a long chat from somewhere, whether London or Mumbai. Nair Saab taught me thoroughness and rigour in work - these were the things that informed his entire life. I am sure his assistants at the NFAI saw more of him than his family did. He would work 24/7, and there was no such thing as a Sunday.
His contribution to Indian cinema is truly beyond words, and most importantly, it was at a time when the idea of preserving films was largely disregarded. He started the archive collection in great earnest and influenced countless film students at the FTII who got to see the best and the worst films ever made the world over. Nair Saab believed if you want to be a filmmaker you had to watch films. He gave so much to so many - film students and film masters - everyone in film circles knew him and admired him. He could be tough too but when I think of him I see his winning smile.
Excerpts from an audio interview I did with him in 2001:
PK Nair (PKN): It's difficult to choose a favourite film when you are an archivist. Some films really influenced me in the beginning, as I grew into becoming a filmgoer. In the Indian context, Andaaz really impressed me at that time. Of course, it is the familiar love triangle, but it has details, minor touches - I found the way the staircases have been used very fascinating which wasn't so in later films. In Bicycle Thief, the son tries to hold his father's hand at the end of the film, and even now when I think of that scene, it touches me.
Cinema has its great moments. Sometimes the whole film is not very exciting, but these details are. I try to judge a filmmaker to see if he has this kind of imagination. These touches only come from the director. That is why I liked people like Mehboob, Amiya Chakravorty, Nitin Bose, Guru Dutt. I think everyone needs to be reminded of the old films. These details are in the non-verbal. The verbose part of the Indian film is the worst part of it. It's true one can't completely dispense with the dialogue. But I wish they would talk less and show more in terms of expressions. I used to tell my family, when we were seeing a movie on TV, to switch off the sound and just watch.