Once Upon a Cinema: A look at Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s Oscar Story

Vidhu Vinod Chopra ’s FTII diploma film is part of movie lore now. Murder at Monkey Hill was his debut not only as a filmmaker but as an actor too. It heralded the dawn of a new voice, which was evinced by the very first message that appears on the screen: “An attempt at communication with the Bombay financier”, which is followed by “P.S. (Mr. Financier, finance us)”.

The thriller was directed by Vidhu Vinod, with Renu Saluja and Dilip Dhawan serving as associate directors. Renu Saluja, of course, doubled up as editor and Dilip as one of the actors. Vidhu himself played the lead, with Anjali Paigankar opposite him. In addition to a National Film Award, the film was lauded at Montreal and Leipzig film festivals. But Vidhu’s struggle to find a backer, betrayed so starkly at the beginning of his debut film, continued for a long time. He graduated in 1976. Two years later, he made a documentary for Films Division entitled An Encounter with Faces.

The film followed a group of kids from an orphanage. It was shot in the spirit of good-old guerilla filmmaking, playing around with visuals, form and texture. It was an exquisite film, but Vidhu himself was going through a tough phase. He had this insatiable hunger to tell stories but not a penny in his pocket. He wanted to make his kind of films, and was able to talk to many potential producers, actors and financiers but nothing was coming through. He had some compelling scripts and story ideas, but nobody to back them. Both Vidhu and his wife Renu Saluja belonged to a coterie of very talented people who dreamed to change Indian cinema for good. The group included such renegades as Saeed Akhtar Mirza, Kundan Shah, Sudhir Mishra and a few others. They all had opinions and things to say but nobody to invest in their vision. Both emotionally and financially, Vidhu was scraping the bottom of the barrel. And this is when he got a call from Nadeem Khan.

Nadeem Khan was the cinematographer of Murder at Monkey Hill. Vidhu got a call from Nadeem saying that his film Encounter with Faces had been nominated for the Academy Awards. He thought Nadeem had surely lost his marbles. At best, the film must be India’s entry to the Oscars . That didn’t mean it was nominated. Nadeem should get his head examined. But Nadeem insisted that he grab a copy of that day’s newspaper and check for himself. Vidhu ran outside and bought a copy of the Times of India. He turned the first page and there it was. An Encounter with Faces had indeed been nominated for the Oscars. In utter disbelief, Vidhu kept reading it again and again. He rang up the office of Films Division. The officials there confirmed the news. It was true, however improbable it seemed. His film had made it to the Oscars. Which basically meant that he will be invited to attend the Oscar ceremony!

This was exciting. Getting international recognition at that stage of his career was quite something. Even to get nominated was as huge a deal at the time as now. Maybe even more. But the feeling of elation changed to worry when he realised he had to travel all the way to Hollywood on his own money, and he hadn’t any. Then he recalled his earlier experience with another great recognition he got for his very first film. When the National Award for Murder at Monkey Hill was announced, he was told that the award came with a cash component of four thousand rupees, which in the late 70s was a windfall, and more so for Vidhu Vinod. Even to travel to Delhi to accept his award, he had to borrow from friends. The idea was to return the money by dipping into the cash reward. But when he stepped onto the stage to accept the award, he was told the “cash prize” was a government bond worth four thousand rupees, which was to mature in seven years. Vidhu was at the end of his wits. He had no money to even go back, forget repaying his friends. What was money seven years later worth to him? Frustrated and realising that once he left the stage with the award, there was no way to deal with it later, Vidhu insisted that he be paid in cash, then and there. Lal Krishna Advani was the Information and Broadcasting Minister at the time. He was on the stage, and Vidhu’s appeals were directed to him. Advani was irked at this young man’s insolence. Come to my office tomorrow and take your money, he said.

When Vidhu Vinod went to his office the next day, Advani flew into a rage. What did he think of himself? Did he want to hold the ministry at ransom in the middle of a public function? Had he no respect? Vidhu revealed to him that he had no money, and he had borrowed the money to buy tickets to Delhi. In fact, he hadn’t eaten a morsel that morning. That’s when Advani realised that it was desperation and not insolence that had made this young man behave so rashly on the stage. He arranged for a proper, hearty breakfast and ensured that Vidhu was paid his prize money. In cash.

Two years later when he got the news about the Oscar nomination, Vidhu’s thoughts turned to L.K. Advani. That seemed to be the only way to get to the Academy Award ceremony. He boarded a train to Delhi and once again stood at Advani’s doorway. What did he want now, the minister asked. Vidhu said his film had been nominated for the Oscars, but he didn’t have the money to get there, and nor did he have a passport. He had to be in the US in a matter of days, and getting a passport could take weeks, even months. Advani knew that this boy had potential. He was obstinate but also hopelessly talented. He got a passport made for Vidhu in four hours flat, booked an economy class flight ticket, and gave him sixty dollars as the expense for three days in the United States. As Vidhu returned to Bombay with the passport and the money, it was a Saturday. The ceremony was on Monday. He didn’t even have a Visa yet.

Vidhu ran towards the US Consulate in Bombay to request a swift Visa. The watchman stopped him in his tracks. Now, Vidhu had travelled all night, not even slept properly. The guard looked at him from top to bottom and asked him to get lost. Saturday was a holiday. Come back next week, he said. Vidhu tried to reason with him and when he refused to budge, he blew his top. He was furious, and gave the guard a piece of his mind. Hearing the commotion, an American official came out. He said if Vidhu didn’t leave right then, he would be calling the cops. Vidhu entreated the official to listen to him. The Oscar award ceremony was on Monday, and he must be there. “What’s it to you?” the official barked.  His film had been nominated, Vidhu said. The officer scanned Vidhu Vinod for a second and asked if he had any proof. Vidhu showed him the newspaper clipping and his film on the list of nominees. He also produced his newly issued passport and the ticket. The official finally cooled down a bit, but explained that Saturday was a holiday, and he must return next week. But there was no way he could reach on time if he didn’t get a visa immediately, Vidhu explained. The man thought for a bit, snatched the passport and tickets from Vidhu’s hand and went inside. He came back thirty minutes later. Vidhu had been granted a one-week single entry visa to the United States. Please don’t make a scene next time you’re here, said the official.

When Vidhu Vinod Chopra finally landed in Los Angeles, the first thing he did was buy a toothbrush for himself. He’d forgotten to carry a brush. Next, he had to find a place to stay. The money he had in his pocket wasn’t enough to book any of the fancy LA hotels. A friend had told him that the telephone booths outside the airport contained business cards of affordable motels in the vicinity. Vidhu scanned the cards and started dialling the numbers. He waited to hear an Indian voice. If he ran into an Indian motel owner, chances are he might be able to help. Finally, a Mr. Patel was heard. Vidhu told him that he was an Indian filmmaker whose film had been nominated for the Academy Awards but he didn’t have a lot of money to afford a proper hotel stay. Patel got Vidhu picked up from the airport, and checked him in to his motel.

Vidhu called the office of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences. He wanted to inform them where he had put up. In a few hours, a dapper gentleman in a tux was at the motel to pick him up. Was this Mister Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s room? Yes. The man calmly instructed Vidhu to call him. I am ready, Vidhu said. But where’s Mister Chopra. I AM Vidhu Vinod Chopra, he cried. The man’s face reddened with embarrassment. He didn’t think that this boy could be an Oscar-nominated filmmaker. He apologised and drove Vidhu to the Beverly Hilton where all the rest of the nominees had been put up. It had more luxury than Vidhu had seen in a long while. The next day, he was taken to Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, where the 51st Academy Awards were being held. The event was being filmed, as was the norm even then. Everyone was told not to move from their seats. The woman sitting beside Vidhu was getting up from her seat, so Vidhu reminded here about the instructions. They were not to leave their seats. She apologised, but when the Best Actress was announced, she was on the stage to receive it. Her name was Jane Fonda.

Vidhu didn’t win the award that year, but it was an experience he’d never forget. He eventually incorporated it into his book Unscripted.

Amborish is a National Film Award winning writer, biographer and film historian.

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