A never-ending passion for authenticity

ANANT Singh learnt how to make movies at a time when he wasn’t supposed to, telling stories the government didn’t allow, and found out how to distribute them.

He has created some of South Africa’s most influential films, achieving worldwide acclaim in the process. Nelson Mandela handpicked Singh to tell his story.

“We all grow, we learn, and hopefully for the better,” he says. “I’ve had my excitement, joy and challenges over the past 47 years. What has stayed the same is the family around me, and friends who have been there since my childhood.”

Born in Durban in 1956, Singh recalls watching movies on the projector his father bought. “We would sit around on Sundays, watching these black-and-white movies.

“I think watching Charlie Chaplin and other silent comic heroes like Buster Keaton and Laurel and Hardy was so magical, it had a profound effect on me.”

Sanjeev Singh, his younger brother, remembers the young Anant helping their grandmother sell fruit.

“He would sell fruit from her garden for her. I think that was his first real business lesson,” he said.

That planted the seeds for a distribution business.

At 13, everything changed. “Our dad died when Anant was 13,” says Sanjeev, “and being the eldest, Anant had to step up and be the man of the house. He got a job rewinding rolls of film and was paid R1 a day.”

Although he loved film, Singh chose to study engineering as it seemed to offer better career prospects. The world was changing, though, and a call from the ANC in exile inspired him to ponder how he could help.

Abandoning his engineering studies, Singh used all his savings to buy a small video store.

“It was in a white area and I didn’t know where it would go or if it would work, but I thought: What do I have to lose? I never live my life with a grand plan. It is about doing what I have to do now, although that now may take a long time.”

There were many restrictions on film at the time, especially if you were not white. Scenes from films like The Godfather, in which a black actor slaps Jane Seymour, a white woman, were removed.

Singh would ask white friends to hire films, then distribute to people of colour so they, too, could see what the fuss was about.

With television introduced in South Africa in 1976, the video business boomed. Video stores popped up on every corner and Singh saw a way to capitalise, by focusing on renting licences and distribution.

“I knew the business end of things, because I had taught myself, and learned about distribution. It wouldn’t matter how good your film was if there wasn’t a way for people to see it,” he says.

The popularity of video enabled him to expand his burgeoning