*Spoiler alert*

It’s just his second feature film and Krishand RK already has two Kerala State Film Awards in his kitty. His critically acclaimed Aavasavyuham: The Arbit Documentation of an Amphibian Hunt, which has also become quite the audience favourite ever since its recent release on SonyLIV, had won the state award for best film as well as for best original screenplay. But Krishand has little time to ride the high wave. He is currently in the process of wrapping up a web series called Kraya Vikraya Prakriya: People in Transaction, which he had begun shooting during the COVID-19 lockdown, while simultaneously working on his next feature film.

There is no dearth of work as of now, he says with a chuckle, as he launches into a conversation with TNM on all things cinema, the pop culture predecessors that inspired Aavasavyuham, ecocriticism in cinema, possibility of an Aavasavyuham 2, and more. Here are some excerpts from the interview.

There is a standout novelty to how you name your films. Your first feature film was named Vrithakrithyilulla Chathuram: A Minor Inconvenience. Then came Aavasavyuham: The Arbit Documentation of an Amphibian Hunt. The names of your upcoming works also seem to follow a similar, yet unique pattern. Is this the Krishand brand?

Actually, I’m pretty adamant that the title of my films should not be direct. Rather, it should give space for the audience to think. Aavasavyuham (which means ‘ecosystem’) is essentially about two types of ecosystems — one that consists of ordinary people, animals, insects, mangrove trees and what not; the other comprising politicians, journalists, police, bureaucracy, the state, etc. In fact, the film was first named Jaiva Vaividhya Aavasavyuham (‘bio diverse ecosystem’). Then we thought maybe that was too much (laughs), and decided to tone it down a bit.

My first film, Vrithakrithyilulla Chathuram, too was named with purpose. It is a reflection of the protagonist (played by Rahul Rajagopal) and his situation — he is a square peg in a round hole, he simply does not fit in. The web series I have been working on is also named like that — Kraya Vikraya Prakriya: People in Transaction.

Besides, every filmmaker has a unique identity, a way to leave their mark in their works. This might be one of the ways in which I attempt to do that. But above all, it is fun, isn’t it? Such names also help plant an element of intrigue in the audience.

Both your feature films were received with open arms at the International Film Festival of Kerala (IFFK). Aavasavyuham went on to find even bigger success, winning two state awards, as well as the FIPRESCI and NETPAC awards. How are you feeling right now?

It is a great feeling, especially because initially I was very sceptical about taking this film to IFFK. Aavasavyuham does not neatly fit into the box of arthouse or mainstream films. While the film has ecocritical layers, it does not adhere to the kind of mise en scene abstraction that arthouse film enthusiasts expect. The film is direct about what it wants to say and does not take a Bergman or Tarkovsky route to communicate through symbolism. At the same time, it also does not adhere to mainstream sensibilities entirely. Traditional cinema banks on a viewer’s emotional reception, while films like Aavasavyuham and Vrithakruthi cater to a person’s cognitive side. So a person who grew up on traditional cinema alone is also not likely to be a fan of the film.

Besides, taste is also essentially a privilege, isn’t it? It is dependent on many aspects like one’s class, money, social background, etc. You are exposed to Andrei Tarkovsky’s films and suddenly you are looking down upon our traditional ‘mass’ films. But what we need to understand is that our taste is actually pure luck.

My aim here was to make a democratic film. There are no stars, dramatic stunts or dance sequences in the film. But I have incorporated these tiny elements that cater to a section of the audience that expects entertainment first from a film as well. There are places in the film where silence would have worked, but I have still included a background score.

Exactly because of this, I was genuinely concerned that the film will not connect with some of the jury members. But it did, and I’m grateful. We had shot it on a limited budget, so there were definitely limitations to its visual quality. But both my films went to the international competition section, and it was a badass feeling. It meant that what we were trying to say was good enough to enter the ‘global’ space.

You have referred to Aavasavyuham as a ‘fantastic ecological superhero action thriller mockumentary’ — a seemingly wild mashup of genres. The mockumentary format, especially, is a novel experiment in Malayalam cinema. What made you choose that path for the film?

Primarily because there was a lot of ecological data that we collected over one year or so. There is a limit to the foreshadowing we can do in a linear narrative. On the other hand, a documentary format gives us an easy opportunity to communicate to the audience exactly what we want to. So that’s how the idea of giving a documentary character to the film came about.

Besides, one of the books I’ve enjoyed the most in my life is Rant: The Oral Biography of Buster Casey by Chuck Palahniuk. It is written in the format of people remembering Rant, the protagonist, a narrative style that had intrigued me. The 1950 Japanese film Rashomon also uses a similar style — the idea is whom to trust, whether what these different people are saying about this one guy is truth or fiction. So that is how the idea of a mockumentary arose.

But Aavasavyuham is also not a mockumentary entirely. In fact, it is more an attempt to mock the mockumentary. I did not want to be bogged down to that structure, but wanted to play around with it instead. So in the film, the mockumentary sometimes turns into a documentary. At another point, it dissolves into the film. It travels to cinema verite and from there it becomes fiction. As the form keeps changing in this manner, there are simultaneous changes in lighting and other aspects as well.

A still from the set of Aavasavyuham

Essentially, when you look at the film from its root, it is a moral-policing-gone-terribly-wrong story. Some Malayalam cinema cliches have also been worked in. There is a man and a woman, their love. One scene in the film, where the character Susheelan Vava (played by Zhinz Shan) suddenly gets a lot of fish, is directly inspired from Achankunju in Chemmeen. These are all pre-sold commodities meant to lure the common man into the content. Once they are in, we can play around with the content. That is how propaganda works, and Aavasavyuham is essentially climate propaganda, in a positive sense.

In the end, my agenda is that youngsters should watch this film and get thrilled, and when they go home and see a frog, they will remember my film and maybe appreciate that creature more. Even after they are done watching the film, this idea should stay with them — that’s what I want.

Aavasavyuham is also making an attempt to break the age-old dichotomy between man and nature, instead beautifully merging the two supposed binaries through the film’s protagonist Joy. The film is also rooted in that one man’s uncanny connection with nature.

Our default approach to life is very anthropocentric. There are so many things happening around us in the world, beings that exist around you, that you don’t even know about. You randomly stamp on an earthworm while walking and you don’t realise. As development takes centre stage, we consistently overlook creatures that don’t subscribe to our mediums of communication. Who gets to decide what matters and what doesn’t, or that this human’s life is worth more than that of this insect? These are all thoughts that have occurred to me, which I wanted to put into paper.

Kafka’s Metamorphosis was definitely an inspiration for the creation of Joy, so were stories like The Wolfman. Besides, there is a short story of my own called Mermaids in Kochi, elements of which have also been woven into Aavasavyuham.

Apparently some six hours went into the makeup and prosthetics process behind Joy’s final ‘frogman’ look?

Joy is essentially becoming half-man, half-amphibian. People call him a frogman, but he is an amphibian. The design was actually inspired from a movie called Creature from the Black Lagoon, one of the earliest underwater films in the world. They have also been credited for it. But we wanted to make it an even more terrifying image, like a mass of slime, with a human somewhere inside it. So we slapped more dirt and mud on the prosthetics.

We also had financial constraints. If we had more money, we could have probably got a zipper for Rahul’s costume. But we didn’t. So until the shoot was over, he just had to stay in it.

A lot of people have said that they were reminded of The Shape of Water.

Yes, I have heard that. Many people referred to Aquaman also. While I’m glad that such comparisons are made, The Shape of Water, etc, are references we had deliberately stayed away from. More than them, as I said, the inspiration came from Creature from the Black Lagoon, the comic Swamp Thing, Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman, etc.

Ecocriticism is a discourse that lies at the heart of the story. So setting it in the backdrop of an ecologically fragile region like Puthuvype adds another layer to it. How did you end up deciding on Puthuvype as the location?

Initially it was supposed to be set in Munroe Island, which is also facing a lot of environmental problems. But that’s when Zhinz, who is from Puthuvype, brought up this place. This is a cause he is deeply invested in, especially since it directly affected him.

I was sure from the get-go that I did not want the story to be set in some generic place. Puthuvype is facing several serious issues, which are being exacerbated in the name of development. Even as the locals continue their protests, not enough people are talking about it. If one person who can make an impact watches the movie and feels the need to look up Puthuvype, understands the issues there and decides to take them up, it is a victory for me.