The conflict in Sri Lanka raged for 26 years and continues to be a raw, touchy, emotive subject for many. The cinema of that time was informed by it, holding up a mirror to societal realities. Since 2009, there have been several outstanding films from the island, some of which I have been fortunate enough to watch. Dirty, Yellow, Darkness (2017), for example, by Kalpana and Vindana Ariyawansha, tackles the difficult subject of severe Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in a most sensitive manner. The pair has also made the children’s musical drama, Little Miss Puppet (2020), that I am yet to watch, but I’m assured that a screener is on the way.
Another film that comes to mind is Vimukthi Jayasundara’s festival darling, Dark in the White Light (2015), where the strands variously deal with a Buddhist monk on a spiritual quest; a student trying to test his limits; an organ dealer growing his business; and a surgeon who heals by day and destroys by night. More recently, Prasanna Vithanage’s sumptuous period drama, Children of the Sun (2019), examines the caste system and identity politics.
The reason I mentioned these films in particular is that they are shining examples of narratives that are not directly about the conflict. A cursory glance at the Sri Lankan films that have released this year show the themes to be disaster drama, fantasy thriller, horror, road thriller, comedy drama, detective, and so on. A film that you will see very soon — which deals directly with the conflict, as well as being a coming out and a coming of age film — is Deepa Mehta’s Funny Boy, based on Shyam Selvadurai’s award-winning novel. Its beating heart is Nimmi Harasgama, the actor who plays the central protagonist Arjie’s mother. Nimmi has been a favourite performer of mine ever since I watched her in Vithanage’s August Sun (2003), where she searches for her missing husband, who is in the services. She won best actress at the Las Palmas Film Festival for her performance. The volcano of talent that was Priyath Liyanage, who sadly passed away recently, wrote the film.
Nimmi was gracious enough to speak briefly with me. “Being half Tamil and half Sinhalese, like Shyam, and having lived through the ‘Black July’ 1983 riots, the book resonated with me on so many levels,” she says. “For me, the months spent filming Funny Boy brought back memories of what I witnessed during the riots: burnt vehicles, family members pulled out of cars and beaten, who still bear the scars both mental and physically. I remember.”
Ever since she watched Fire (1996), Nimmi says she’s longed to work with Deepa Mehta. “Being approached by her to send in an audition tape, getting the part, and having the dream of being directed by her come true was an incredible honour. This was one of those rare instances when the universe aligned and a dream came true.”
Here’s looking forward to Nimmi’s future endeavours.
