From Talegaon to Three of Us: Walking down the memory lane with Avinash Arun

A young boy from Talegaon, a small town near Pune, Maharashtra, would burst out of his innate shyness only for the movies. He would mostly keep to himself unless a film he loved turned him into a storyteller to his classmates as an audience. Four directorials and more than 20 years later, the man seems to have retained a bit of the reticence, while his love for cinema has only increased.

Avinash Arun doesn’t narrate stories of the films he devoured in a cinema hall anymore, but tells tales simmering within him and from life around him. “I am looking inwards now, to see what kind of stories I want to tell. It’s because of this mindset, , School of Lies and Three of Us happened back to back.

They have given me the confidence to call myself a filmmaker. That’s why I am doing this interview,” he begins. ADVERTISEMENT The current curiosity and attention around Arun would have one believe he just bursted into the scene, a new voice on the horizon. But that’s what his story has been. His work arrived much before he did.

Arun made his feature debut over a decade ago, with the heartwarming coming of age Marathi film Killa, which is also a National Award winner. It was the most reputable entry in the movies one could ask for. Yet, it didn’t make the noise that it should have. “With Killa, people noticed that I was a good filmmaker.

But it was a regional film. Even though people asked me about my future plans, things didn’t get much push.” What one would imagine to be a fertile follow up to an award winning debut became a phase marked by disappointment and anger. “There were a couple of Marathi projects I started pitching, but studios were of the opinion that those films wouldn’t work for the market because Sairat had released and become big.

While these films were smaller in nature. I was very upset at that time because I felt that I have to prove myself, even to get one narration from a studio head, despite a film like Killa, Like, once I went to a studio for a narration but the concerned person said, ‘I am busy but my assistants will hear it.’ I left from there.” That was, perhaps, Arun’s first encounter with the rude reality of the industry that acclaim doesn’t equate to fame.

To a debutante in mid 20s it also meant crushing self confidence even before it was built. “I thought Killa was a fluke.” The filmmaker has had a complicated relationship with confidence. It’s the lack of it that didn’t let him pursue filmmaking as a discipline as a student. But it’s also his self belief that powered him through tremendous circumstances.

Growing up, Arun wanted to be a musician. But for the son of a mill worker, the world of melodies seemed too far to attempt. I was born in Solapur. I belong to a lower middle class family. Both my father and grandfather were mill workers. I remember I used to sing in an orchestra. But there was no connection to the industry or the arts so of course I couldn’t pursue music.

But I have a distinct memory of listening to Bollywood songs.” What Arun’s father gifted him at a very young age very few can buy. The absolute, unconditional love for cinema. "My father used to take me along to watch films. He says that whatever he has learnt in life is because of films.” He was all of 13 when Shah Rukh Khan led romantic drama Pardes hit the screens.

Director Subhash Ghai was one of the biggest in the industry, the film’s album by Nadeem Shravan was a chartbuster. Arun happened to come across one of Ghai’s interviews where he mentioned he was a graduate from a film institute in Pune. “I asked my father about it and he told me, ‘It’s a place where you are taught how to make films.’ I told him I wanted to go there.

I just wanted to see how films were made.” More than two years later, Arun shifted to Pune, and thereby began his decade long defining relationship with Film and Television Institute of India (FTII), which has been the alma mater of many greats of Hindi cinema. “I knew I wanted to get into films.

I went to Pune after 10th standard and started making rounds to FTII. One of the insecurities I of course had was that filmmaking is an expensive art form and I come from a backward community. The only thing that I focused on was going to FTII for which I learnt graduation was needed.” But even before he enrolled into the institute, Arun found himself on film sets.

Another recurring motif that has shaped up Arun’s career is that he learnt from life experiences far more than a school could teach. “Acclaimed Marathi director Sumitra Bhave was remaking her popular Marathi film 10th F in Hindi. An advertisement in the papers said there would be auditions for child characters.

So I went for it and was among the few selected. We even workshopped for it for 15 days and then I learnt that the film wasn’t happening. I contacted one of the art assistants on the film and told them that I would be available for any kind of job on the next film. That’s how I got to be on Sumitra Bhave’s film sets.

I assisted in setting, production and every department you name. I also started assisting on FTII diploma films, and whichever film I would work on would win awards. One of them was Umesh Kulkarni’s Girni. That gave me confidence.” Confidence still betrayed Arun. But camera didn’t. By now Arun had realised that movies were his be all and end all.

So for someone, who couldn’t even muster the courage to direction, what would guarantee longterm survival in the industry? "I wanted to learn direction. I should have learnt direction, but I wasn’t confident enough that FTII institute will admit me in the direction course. I thought if I learnt technical skills, I wouldn’t die of hunger.

One day I asked someone how much one could make by focus pulling. The camera attendant said Rs 2000 per day. So, I decided that’s what I wanted to do. I never left the camera ever since.” Post graduation, the director studied cinematography at FTII. And soon his journey as a professional cinematographer began.

“Apart from lack of money and need of security, I realised camera was the most important thing. Everything happens for it. Camera is the point of view. I felt if I could learn the craft of cinematography, I would be able to reach higher in the hierarchy.” Renowned cinematographer Anil Mehta became Arun’s boss.

And ’s 2012 friendship drama Cocktail became his Bollywood debut. Besides, he regularly shot short films. The camera turned out to be his most loyal companion. Even when after Killa, Arun struggled to find convince people to bet their money on his stories, his camera took him to diverse sets and earned him genuine friendships in the industry, which are even more difficult to land than a film.

“I did get a few offers in between to direct post Killa, but because my bread and butter didn’t depend on direction, I refused them because they didn’t excite me. I thought even if I was a one film wonder, it would be okay. But even as a cinematographer, I have chosen work according to the people involved in.

I always saw if I could be friends with my directors. I don’t believe in hierarchy. From Neeraj Ghaywan, for whom I shot Masaan (2015), to Siddharth Malhotra, with whom I worked in Hichki, (2018) all my directors continue to be my friends. Another friend I made was Nishikant Kamath, with whom I collaborated on Drishyam (2015) and Madaari (2016).

He was such a huge support. I owe my Paatal Lok success to him. I learnt how to approach a thriller working with him because his talent lay in that genre. And he would do that on a commercial level. I learnt how to edit, how to approach the story dynamically, and how to salvage yourself when you land yourself in situations.” In all those years of him as a cinematographer, there were innumerable stories that brewed in Arun’s mind but he knew he had to wait a little longer to tell them.

That’s when Sudip Sharma offered him Paatal Lok, the Jaideep Ahlawat led crime thriller that was to become a rage across the country. “I thought my second film would never happen. But then Sudip Sharma called me for Paatal Lok. OTT has literally empowered me. Had it not been there, I would have remained a one film director.

Paatal Lok empowered me to make my second film, a film that I wanted to make. Killa mere mann ki thi, show mere mann ka tha, pehli Hindi film bhi mere mann ki honi chahiye. That was the kind of commitment I had with myself because filmmaking is very sacred for me. Now after this, whatever I do, I think I am good.” The show, whose second season is due later this year, also made Arun take another decision, to put halt to his journey as a cinematographer.

“I want to shoot my friends’ films but now there’s a voice in me which is asking me to explore the filmmaker within. I have to listen to it.” It doesn’t happen every day that a director with just two films and two shows under his credit becomes one of the most impactful voices of an industry.

But economy was always Arun’s forte. “During my time at FTII, I learnt one thing that no one is going to make you that big budget film. So, if you don’t have the budget, what kind of stories and films can you approach so that you have a major impact as a filmmaker? So, my approach since Killa has been very practical.

I don’t want to philosophise anything.” The filmmaker’s own career, however, has been marked by one philosophy. It’s never too late to be a student. And today he feels confident enough to pursue the discipline. “I am not a well read person. I have only read people. I have spoken to many people and that’s been my genuine interest in life.

Even as a child, I would sit with old people and listen to their stories and observe the kind of life they have lived. But I am learning to write a screenplay now. One of my scripts was selected in the Film Bazaar Script Lab last year. I am aware of the fact that I am not a screenplay writer. My first writing credit was on Three of Us.

The film bazaar session was such a huge learning experience. Learning should never stop.” So, as three of them— Avinash Arun, his camera and stories— move forward, the director views his career as a big, blank canvas waiting to be filled with all sorts of colours. “Even though Three of Us was my kind of commercial film, I won’t be surprised if I make an out and out commercial film because that would be a challenge for me.

has been such a huge influence on me. You give him a Lavni, a Jazz, classical, R&B or a qawwali, he nails it. I have wide ranging ideas. That’s why my last three works have been different from each other. Now, making a film is not a struggle. It’s how to arrive at it.”.