Confounding
Expectations
Her mother tongue
is Manipuri. Her father was in the Indian Army's Manipur Rifles, and while
stationed in Manipur, he met and married a local woman and started a family.
She was born in Manipur, and spent her childhood there, before returning to her
father's village in Nawalparasi of the Nepali Madhesh. She learned to speak
Nepali, and bloomed into her extrovert self. Perhaps the need to express
herself to her peers in an entirely new language forced her into a habit of
performance, of representing and reserving different aspects of herself. When
she was in the 7th grade, a local television channel cast her in a television
series. After all, she was a well known face: even as a child she had enjoyed
performing at cultural shows, dancing with precocious talent. Like most people
who go on to become performers, she had been performing at home - her parents
loved Bollywood, and nearly everyday the family sat down to watch the latest
Bollywood movie. After finishing her high school education, everything pointed
towards Kathmandu: there was the bigger stage, there was the seat of glamour
and the possibility of stardom. The television screen is too small for a grand
ambition; and to be confined to a local television channel in Chitwan was
unacceptable to her. Eight movies later, we know her as Menuka Pradhan. And,
today her star is rising bright. Today, there is no looking back: the world of
Nepali cinema is for her to conquer.
I had forgotten
that I had seen her first in a thriller called Ek Din Ek Raat, directed
by Dev Kumar Shrestha. Like most movies in that genre, it assembles a
dysfunctional group of friends who then are murdered, one by one. Her latest
outing on the silver screen, Zhigrana, directed by Pasang Lama, enjoyed
a successful release recently, and also featured Pradhan as a member of a group
of friends who go on a journey into unknown territory, and where the attractive
young people are killed, one by one. Vigilante, directed by Dipendra K.
Khanal, also had her run terrified in full 3D, before being killed off. Perhaps
Menuka Pradhan gets cast in such soles
because she possesses the perfect blend of histrionics and vulnerability - the
cockiness that makes a character perform the sort of indiscretion that upsets
the balance in an unknown place and invites reprisal, and the vulnerability and
beauty that makes the audience root for the character, for them to escape their
forewarned grisly fate at the last minute. Or, perhaps she is just a good
performer, with the grace and subtlety required to play a diverse range of
emotions and characters.
Because, she has
also shown us another side of her capabilities as an actor. In director
Prachanda Man Shrestha's Visa Girl,
a work admired by
industry insiders for its balanced handling of the myriad characters and for a
lush visual aesthetic, Pradhan plays an inner-city Newar girl, secretly in love
with the boy next door. He dabbles at being a musician; she is a talented
songwriter. Pradhan plays this character with the restraint and charm of a girl
on the cusp of realizing her womanhood; of insisting to be seen and noticed by
the boy she loves and whom she waits patiently for as he grows out of his
extended adolescence into becoming a man. There is a moment in the movie when,
out of frustration, Pradhan's character draws a veil over her face, refusing to
let her paramour see her face full of frustration. Perhaps another moment of
perfect vulnerability and perfect strength hasn't been created in Nepali
cinema, with just that simple gesture.
A director
essentially shapes an actor's performance on the screen. The actor must meet
and surpass the director's vision for the character, in service of the wider
narrative. "The way he explained small details about the character was the
best thing about working with Prachanda," Pradhan says. "Whatever
performance you can see on the screen in Visa Girl owes to him." It
is sweet of her to credit her director fully with her breakthrough role, but
those who saw Visa Girl in the theater did take immediate notice of her
potential. This was followed by a series of other roles that didn't require her
to be killed - the tomboy in director Kumar Bhattarai's Utsav, a
blink-and-miss appearance in Subarna Thapa's same-sex love story Sungava,
and now, the most widely anticipated movie in recent Nepali cinema history - as
a village belle in Pranab Joshi's already a viral hit movie, Resham Fililli.
There is a
division of sorts in our industry between what is deemed the rural world and
the urban - in terms of production, and in term of consumption. Since director
Alok Nembang's Sano Sansar, movies have either been produced with a
decidedly urban aesthetic, geared towards the 16 to 24 year old market of young
men and women, or they have been decidedly of the rural stamp. This division
isn't present just between the aesthetics for the movies - this division also
exists among the pool of actors available to populate either kind of movies.
Karma and Vinay Shrestha, who started with Sano Sansaar, perhaps used to
most vividly typify the urban. Menuka Pradhan has been in at least two movies
with Vinay Shrestha and Karma by now, and in three with Shrestha alone. Yet,
she has also acted in the decidedly art-house Sungava, and will soon be
seen in Rato Ghar, a movie by the decidedly mainstream writer-director
Suraj Subba Nyalbo. In this way, like Reecha Sharma before her, Pradhan is
bridging the gap between the extremities of the industry, while also creating
her own presence.
Menuka Pradhan's
journey to this space wasn't straightforward. She did arrive in
Kathmandu nearly like a cliché - she moved from her hometown Nawalparasi to pursue a career in
acting, with no more than a few contacts in the acting circles. Right away, she
acted in a music video for an Anju Panta song. But, after that, despite showing
up at numerous auditions, she wasn't being cast in anything worthwhile. While
auditioning for the movie Baghchal, the director Jagadish Thapa asked
Pradhan had come to Kathmandu to become a heroine - Heroni banna aayeko? No, Pradhan replied - I have come to become
an actor. This tenacity and self-confidence endeared her to people in the
industry. While auditioning for Ek Din Ek Raat, her co-star and also the
casting director for the movie, Anup Baral, encouraged her to train for the
theater.
Pradhan went on
to act in a number of stage productions after joining the Actors' Studio in
2011. She appeared in Studio 7's production of Conference of Gods; Angels in
America directed by Deborah Merula; the Actors' Studio production of Kafka,
presented at Moksh; and as Rhea, the protagonist in A View from the
Bridge; in Chekhov's Seagulls. The knowledge she gained from those
busy years on the stage has helped her a lot now - to every character she
brings the same meticulous preparation and imagination that made her time on
the state so memorable.
Menuka Pradhan
then began her stint in the theater, staying away from the movies for a good
few years. She trained at Baral's Actors' Studio, and appeared in many
productions. She played a village dog in the Actors' Studio production of the
poet and playwright Sarubhakta's Malami. Pradhan still thinks of this as
her fondest role on the stage. As an actor learns to embody a character, to
interpret the world through the movement of the body alone, the experience can
be very liberating for the actor. Pradhan described the experience just so -
that, to play the village dog lolling about while catastrophic events unfold
int he background, was very liberating. This ability to fully commit to the character
must have come handy for Pradhan when she played a pretty young thing unable to
keep her hands off her boyfriend, in Zhingrana. In the uncensored
version was perhaps the most frenetic sex scene. Was it difficult to shoot
that?
'No,' says Pradhan. Nikun Shrestha, who
shares the scene with her, was apparently nervous before the shot. But, Pradhan
asked that he adopt a 'take no prisoner' approach to the scene. Director Pasang
Sherpa guided the duo through, but it was really the presence of the director
of photography Shailendra Karki that assured Pradhan that all would be well.
Remember the time when Nepali cinema had come under the thrall of the brief
success of Chapali Height, and a slew of movies like ATM were set
to assault us with their tacky aesthetics? Pradhan was worried that without the
careful and graceful work of a director of photography like Karki, the work
would come out vulgar. But she was happy with how the scene came out.
'I need to know
all the details about the character and her back story. It helps me, but it can
be irritating to others,' Pradhan says. She repeatedly quizzed Lama, the
director of Zhigrana, about her character, her motivations, the choices
she makes at any given time. At times, the director and others in the production
team were annoyed at her insistence, but it helped her, it helped the movie.
That is the sort of person Pradhan comes across as - exhaustively inquisitive,
explosively full of energy, insisting upon a disarming sincerity towards her
work. When she committed to the stage, she did it with a single-minded
devotion, playing in as many stage productions as she could get her hands on,
honing her craft so late in her performing career - but so early in her life.
Everybody speaks well of her, everybody appreciates her work. That is no mean
achievement in an industry where nobody is a permanent friend or a permanent
foe.
Her affability
has created some interesting opportunities for her. After he finished shooting Talakjung
vs Tulke, director Nischal Basnet wanted to inject additional magic into
his movie, repeating a formula that had worked well for him in Loot - an
item song with a pretty ditty and a beautiful woman. Menuka Pradhan had
hesitation first: she wasn't sure if she had it in her to do an item dance. But
she auditioned anyway, dancing to a song from the movie Dhoom 3. When
Basnet assured her that the song would be a tribute to the history of Nepali
cinema, full of praise for the giants who have passed before. The song became a
viral hit, and Pradhan danced beautifully in it.
Menuka Pradhan
has high hopes from Resham Fililli - produced by a long time co-actor
Vinay Shrestha, and written and directed by the talented Pranab Joshi, who has
proved himelf over and over again in the music video scene. Pradhan plays
Sunita, a peripheral character, if the narrative thrust of the movie revolves
around Shrestha and Kameshwor Chaurasiya. But, the trend will change, she says.
'Earlier, only men had access to the wider world, to the experiences that come
out of living in the world outside the home. But now more and more women are
seeing the world outside their homes. They have more and more interesting
experiences - and stories need interesting characters with interesting
experiences,' she says. As more young women have a wider range of worldly
experiences, more such voices will find a place in literature and in cinema. Of
course, until then, young women will have to keep confounding the expectations
of the men who form the establishment everywhere - including the world of
Nepali cinema.
Menuka Pradhan,
whose maternal grandfather was a Hindu priest, and whose mother eloped to marry
a Nepali Newar in the Indian Army, was born in her great aunt's home. In the
days after her birth, the infant threw her feet and arms around a lot,
prompting her great aunt to remark that she would grow up to become a dancer.
Thence the name - Menuka, a celestial nymph, whose beauty would derail many a
great fate across many a myth from South Asia of the Puranic times. It is no
surprise then that the slow gyration of destiny has brought Menuka Pradhan to
our hearts, to remain there and intrigue us with her talented performances.
This is but the beginning of a shining and accomplished career, one hopes.
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