AN ARCHIVE OF THE MIND
Five years after the documentary Celluloid Man, Shivendra Singh Dungarpur revisits the cinephile, archivist and legend Paramesh
Krishnan Nair—who headed the National Film Archive of India from the mid-1960s to 1991—to whom goes the credit of single-handedly safeguarding India’s cinematic history.
Film lovers will find much to appreciate in Yesterday’s
Films for Tomorrow. Published by the Dungarpur-founded Film Heritage Foundation, this book is an anthology of P.K. Nair’s writings, and is filled with the legendary archivist’s uncensored views on everything cinema—from his unabashed admiration for India’s first filmmaker Dadasaheb Phalke to his take on Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s
Devdas (all “technical gloss and gimmicks”, and otherwise “soulless”).
Some of the more delightful chapters chronicle Nair’s earli-
est movie-going outings, and shed light on his crazy hunt for silent films. Lists such as his “most moving movie moments” and films he fears we may have lost forever are a great historical resource as well. The book also contains a discussion—in depth—of the significance of regional cinema (Malayalam cinema gets a whole chapter) and the relevance of documentaries. There are also posters and stills illustrating some of the gorgeous artwork from yesteryear’s films.
Taken together, the essays paint a portrait of a man who wanted cinema to be seen as more than just a means for escapist entertainment, one who felt the need to balance technology and creativity in the arts. Towards the end of the book, what Nair’s knowledge and thoughts most succeed in doing is to make readers embark on a new cinematic discovery by offering them a fresh perspective.