Bird’s-eye view

His documentary, All That Breathes, just won at Cannes. It’s about two brothers struggling to keep kites alive amid the devastating pollution of Delhi. Fiction is on the cards, says the 34-year-old. Perhaps even Bollywood. But the thing he’s struggling wi

The word “happy” doesn’t begin to describe what he’s feeling, says Shaunak Sen. “The emotion of crossing the finish line is far more complex and complicated. While I am grateful and overwhelmed, it is also a constant reminder of the intensity of the rollercoaster months that led to this day.” It took Sen, 34, three years to make the 93-minute documentary that recently won the L’Oeil d’Or (or Golden Eye) at Cannes, and before that, the Grand Jury prize at the Sundance Film Festival. All That Breathes is the story of two brothers, Mohammad Saud and Nadeem Shehzad, who work out of a dingy basement in Delhi, rescuing and treating black kites and other birds struggling to breathe in the city’s polluted air.

It’s the kind of story he has always yearned to tell, Sen says. “Films need to be used as a Trojan horse on questions of climate change.” But fiction isn’t off the cards either. Could Bollywood be next? Excerpts from an interview.

What’s been the best thing about the reaction to your film?

Generally, the process is the reward. Making the film, conceiving it, finding the images you’ve imagined, structuring the edit… that work is usually, cumulatively, the most joy-giving. But screening at Cannes, our first physical screening, was quite sacred. Nothing quite matches seeing people’s faces when the lights come back on. Showing at Cannes felt scarcely believable. A whole constellation of my filmmaking heroes was playing in the same section. I haven’t fully processed the fact of winning the prize yet, but it is an exceptional honour.

What can you tell us about the “intense rollercoaster ride” of making the film?

Making an independent film, let alone a documentary that is poetic and abstract, is an arduous process. For a story like this, which isn’t about a hot-button issue, you really need to have a ravenous fascination with the subject.

The story came to me first as a vague texture: the dreamy greyness of the heavy-hanging air laminating the city sky dotted with black kites which were plummeting to the ground. It painted a foreboding, dystopian image of Delhi.

While doing a fellowship at Cambridge University in 2018, I got talking to people who were working in the realm of human-animal geography and relationships and it sparked the idea of a film on the profound relationship between human-non human life. From there I worked backwards, looking for a subject that would fit the theme. Through all of this, you suddenly become the person who can make this film. There’s a cross-pollination between your life and the film — your life becomes fodder for the film and the film itself becomes the colouring agent of your life.

It’s been a turbulent three years for you personally as well…

I lost my dad very suddenly a few months ago, and it was a transformative loss. Not just me, but a lot of people in the crew suffered deep losses. Many of us fell very sick during the pandemic. Even these wins are a constant reminder of this transformative phase of our lives.

Three years is a very long time to devote yourself to something that might be a critical failure. Stapled with that was the emotional risk of being involved with an abstract film, one people might think was too niche, one that no one might be interested in investing in or collaborating on.

We were struggling with resources, and then we spent weeks of sleepless nights racing to meet festival deadlines. It was like jumping off a cliff without knowing where we would land. It is an enormous risk when only your film’s excellence will get you a foot in the door, and even that isn’t assured.

How have the last few months changed you?

I’m generally shy and reclusive. But since this isn’t a commercial film with enormous PR, I’ve had to do every bit of information-sharing myself. It’s been overwhelming. It all feels dreamy and unreal, but also comes at a cost where I am struggling to hold on to my sacred private space. That is the space from which the ideas for my next film will emerge.

Meanwhile, I’m still in pursuit of the mythical world of networking, where one uses these smooth quips of “connecting over lunch”. I do believe that it is important to insert yourself into subsets of people who are stakeholders in your domain, but it isn’t something that comes organically to me so these are skills I still need to pick up.

What has the reaction at home been like?

All these years my mother was a bit suspicious and perhaps dismissive of what I was doing. It was the fact that I was pursuing a PhD that was in some way a source of relief and pride. (Laughs) Now, WhatsApp groups are buzzing, and she’s happy. But telling her I was featured in The New York Times or Hollywood Reporter doesn’t evoke the same response as a piece in an Indian newspaper or in the Bengali media.

Are you more optimistic about the future of your cinema now?

This feels like an unprecedented moment for Indian non-fiction. Writing with Fire was nominated for an Oscar this year. In 2021, Payal Kapadia’s A Night of Knowing Nothing won the Golden Eye at Cannes. Indian documentaries are getting more critical acclaim at A-list festivals. I am sanguine about the turn of events. However, I am not euphoric or giddy about things changing paradigmatically. Streaming platforms have helped, but one has to stay a realist. It’s not like documentary films are suddenly all the rage.

What sorts of stories are you now hoping to tell?

I am interested in the ecological sublime, where smaller, interpersonal stories become metaphors for much larger issues. I am very interested in biology, physics and philosophy and want to work at the intersection of them all. I believe every film begins in the library, goes out into the world and comes back into the library.

I am also interested in exploring fiction. I am scared of the behemoth that is Bollywood because I have never worked in Mumbai but I do hope the street cred from my documentary films will help me get a foot in the door.