Poets and Pancakes

"A Journey Through the Quirky World of Gemini Studios: Anecdotes and Anomalies"


 Explore the fascinating narrative of Gemini Studios, a legendary film production hub, where eccentric characters, poetic encounters, and unexpected visitors left indelible marks. Dive into the world of makeup mayhem, literary inclinations, and peculiar anecdotes that made Gemini Studios a unique place in cinematic history.

 

Step into the enchanting world of Gemini Studios, where every anecdote is a gem waiting to be uncovered. Our web page takes you on a journey through the captivating narrative of this iconic film production house. Here's a glimpse of what you'll discover:

Pancake and Make-up Mayhem: 


Unearth the secrets of the makeup department at Gemini Studios, where truckloads of pancake makeup transformed actors and actresses into crimson-hued monsters. Explore the hierarchy and humour of this unique team of nationally integrated makeup artists.

Kothamangalam Subbu: The Unsung Hero: 


Learn about Kothamangalam Subbu, the No. 2 at Gemini Studios, whose creativity and loyalty breathed life into the studio's golden years. Discover how he juggled his roles as a poet and an actor while making an indelible mark in the world of cinema.

Poetry Meets Films: 


Witness the convergence of poetry and cinema at Gemini Studios, where renowned poets like S.D.S. Yogiar, Sangu Subramanyam, Krishna Sastry, and Harindranath Chattopadhyaya found inspiration. Explore their literary inclinations amid the glitz and glamour of the silver screen.

Unexpected Encounters: 


Delve into the intriguing story of an English poet's visit to Gemini Studios, leaving both the visitors and the studio staff in utter bafflement. Uncover the mystery behind this incongruous meeting and its lasting impact.

Literary Gems: 


Discover the hidden literary talents of those behind the scenes, including the legal adviser turned accidental producer. Learn how the Story Department, comprising lawyers and poets, played a unique role in the studio's history.

The God That Failed: 


Unravel the connection between Stephen Spender, the visiting English poet, and his later essays in "The God That Failed." Understand the enigma surrounding his visit and its significance in the grand scheme of things.

Gemini Studios was not just a place for filmmaking; it was a melting pot of creativity, quirks, and unexpected encounters. Join us on this web page as we unravel the captivating tales that shaped this legendary studio's history. Explore the humour, eccentricities, and literary aspirations that set Gemini Studios apart. Visit our web page now to embark on this unforgettable cinematic journey!

The Story Simplified

 

Gemini Studios got a lot of makeup that was made by the company Pancake. It must have been used by Greta Garbo1, Miss Gohar, and Vyjayantimala2, but Rati Agnihotri might not have even heard of it. The Gemini Studios' make-up room was on the second floor of a house that was thought to have been Robert Clive's stables. He is said to have lived in a dozen other buildings in the city. Robert Clive seems to have moved around a lot during his short life and even shorter stay in Madras. He also fought some impossible fights in remote parts of India and married a girl in St. Mary's Church in Fort St. George in Madras.
 It looked like a hair shop in the make-up room, which had lights coming from all sides around six big windows. Since they were all electric lights, you can only imagine how horrible it must have been for those who had to put on makeup. A Bengali was in charge of the make-up department at first, but she left when she got too big for the studio. After him, a Maharashtrian took over. A Dharwar Kannadiga, an Andhra, an Indian Christian from Madras, an Anglo-Burmese, and the usual local Tamils helped out. All of this shows that there was a lot of national integration going on before A.I.R. and Doordarshan started showing shows about it. With the help of truckloads of pancakes and other locally made potions and lotions, this group of made-up men from all over the country could turn anyone into an ugly red monster. Those were the days when most films were shot inside; only 5% of them were shot outside. I guess the studio lights and sets had to make the girls and boys look bad so they would look good in the movie. It was very clear who did what in the make-up area. The head of makeup made the lead actors and women look bad; his senior assistant played the "second" lead role; his junior assistant played the main comedic role; and so on. The office boy was in charge of the people who played the crowd. (The Gemini Studio even had an "office boy" for the make-up department!) When there was a crowd shoot, you could see him making his paint in a big bowl and slapping it on the people in the crowd. The goal was to cover up all of the pores on the face while putting on makeup. He wasn't really a "boy. He was in his early forties and had started working in studios years before becoming a famous actor, screenwriter, director, or lyricist. His writing was pretty good.
 Back then, I worked in a booth with French windows on two sides. At the time, I didn't know they were called French windows. Most people thought I was doing nothing while I ripped up newspapers at my desk all day. For sure, the boss thought the same thing. So anyone who thought I should have a job would just walk into my desk and give me a long speech. In the make-up area, the "boy" thought I should know how great writers were wasting their time in a room meant only for barbers and perverts. I soon prayed all the time for crowd-shooting. It was the only thing that could save me from his epics.
 When someone is frustrated, they will always be angry at one person, whether they say it out loud or not. This man in the make-up department was sure that Kothamangalam Subbu was to blame for all of his problems, shame, and mistreatment. It was Subbu at Gemini Studios who was number two. His movie starts couldn't have been better than our grown-up make-up boy's. At the start of his work, there weren't any well-established film studios or companies, so he must have had to deal with more uncertainty and hardship. Subbu couldn't have had a big advantage over our boy even when it came to education, especially official education. But because he was born a Brahmin—which is a virtue!—he must have been around richer people and situations. He could always look happy, even after working on a movie that didn't do well at the box office. He was always working for someone else; he could never get things done on his own. But because he was so loyal to his boss, he fully identified with him and used all of his imagination to help him. He was made to be in pictures. He was the kind of man who could be motivated when told to. The director would say, "The rat fights the tigress underwater and kills her, but then it feels sorry for the cubs and cares for them lovingly. I don't know how to do the scene." Subbu would then come up with four ways that the rat could show loving care for its victim's children. The producer would say, "Good, but I'm not sure it works well enough," and Subbu would come up with fourteen more options in a minute. With a man like Subbu around, making films must have been easy. If there was anyone who gave Gemini Studios direction and meaning during its best years, it was Subbu. He was a different person as a lyricist, and even though he could write in more complicated and higher styles, he decided to write for the masses on purpose. That's what his reviewers said: his success in films was bigger and better than his written work. He wrote a lot of really unique "story poems" in folk rhymes and words. He also wrote the long book Thillana Mohanambal, which has a lot of characters that are very well drawn. He did a pretty good job of capturing the mood and behaviour of the Devadasis in the early 1900s. He was a great actor, but he never wanted to play the lead role. In every little part he played in a movie, he did a better job than the big actors. He really cared about everyone he met, and his house was a constant home for dozens of family members, friends, and strangers from near and far. It didn't seem like Subbu would be aware that he was taking care of and feeding so many people. He was so kind and careless, but he still had foes! Did they think it was because he seemed so close to The Boss? Or was it just the way he acted in general that made him look like a sycophant? Or how willing is he to say nice things about everything? Anyhow, there was this man in the make-up room who always wished the worst for Subbu.
 In the attendance rolls, Subbu was put with a group of writers and artists called the "Story Department," which included a lawyer. You always saw Subbu with the boss. While the lawyer's real name was "legal adviser," everyone else called him something else. A very skilled actor who was also very moody lost her cool on the set one time. As everyone stood there in shock, the lawyer turned on the recording gear in a quiet way. The lawyer told the actress, "One minute, please," and played back the recording when she took a breath. The actress's rant against the director didn't say anything illegal or disgusting. But she was speechless when she heard her own voice through the sound equipment. She was from the country, so she hadn't gone through all the typical steps of life that come before becoming important and sophisticated, but she had found herself in that situation. She was so scared that day that she never quite got over it. A short but great playing career came to an end that day. The law assistant, who was also in the Story Department, had caused that sad ending without meaning to. They all wore a khadi dhoti and a white khadi shirt that was a bit too big and poorly made. The legal assistant, on the other hand, wore trousers, a tie, and sometimes a coat that looked like a coat of steel. Sometimes he looked like he was all by himself and couldn't do anything. He was a man of cold reasoning among dreams and a neutral man among Gandhians and Khadi activists. He was able to make a movie, just like many other people close to The Boss. A lot of raw stock and pancakes were used on it, but it didn't do very well. The boss then shut down the story department one day. This may have been the only time in history that a lawyer lost his job because the writers were told to go home.
 There were writers like S.D.S. Yogiar3, Sangu Subramanyam, Krishna Sastry, and Harindranath Chattopadhyaya4 who loved to hang out at Gemini Studios. The coffee was good all day and most of the night, despite the great mess around the corner. It was Prohibition back then, and getting together over a cup of coffee was a pretty good way to pass the time. Except for a few office boys and workers, everyone else at the studio seemed relaxed, which is necessary for poems. While most of them wore khadi and worshipped Gandhiji, they didn't really understand any other kind of political thought. Of course, they all didn't like the word "communism. A Communist was a man without any gods. He had no respect for his parents or his children and would kill them if he had to. He was always trying to spread violence and unrest among innocent, naive people. Such ideas were common in South India at the time, so it makes sense that they were also loosely held by the author in Khadi at Gemini Studios. Soon, proof of it would come out.
 About 200 people from Frank Buchman's Moral Re-Armament Army came to Madras sometime in 1952. The Gemini Studios were the nicest place in India that they could have found to stay. Someone said that the group was like a foreign show. Even though they weren't very good at the trapeze and had only ever met animals at the dinner table, they put on two plays very professionally. Their plays "Jotham Valley" and "The Forgotten Factor" ran for several weeks in Madras. The Gemini family of six hundred people saw them over and over again, along with other people from the city. The shows mostly had easy sermons as their message, but the sets and costumes were great. It really impressed people in Madras and the Tamil theatre community. For a few years, almost all Tamil plays had a scene of sunrise and sunset like in "Jotham Valley," with a blank stage, a white curtain in the background, and a flute playing a tune. After a few years, I found out that the MRA was a fight against world communism and that Mr. Vasan and the other big bosses at Madras just helped them. The things about these big bosses and their businesses didn't change—MRA or no MRA, international communism or no international communism. So I'm not sure if this was really the case. The people who worked at Gemini Studios had a great time having 200 people of all shapes and sizes from at least twenty different countries. It was so different from the regular group of people waiting for the office boy in the make-up department to cover them in thick layers of makeup.
 A few months later, the phones of Madras's top executives rang, and once more, we had to clear out an entire film stage at Gemini Studios to make room for a new visitor. They only said that he was an English artist. Most of the Gemini staff had never heard of or read any English poets other than Wordsworth and Tennyson. The smarter ones knew of Keats, Shelley, and Byron, and a few might have vaguely heard of Eliot. Who was that poet who was now at the Gemini Studios?
 "He's not a poet. He works as a writer. That's why "The Boss" is giving him a big welcome. Vasan also edited the well-known Tamil weekly, Ananda Vikatan.
 He wasn't the editor of any of the well-known British newspapers in Madras, that is, the ones that were read at the Gemini Studios. Since the leaders of The Hindu were leading the way, it was thought that the author was the editor of a daily, but not from The Manchester Guardian or the London Times. Even the smartest people among us only knew that.
 He or she finally showed up around 4 o'clock in the afternoon. He was tall, very English, very serious, and, of course, none of us knew who he was. The boss read a long message while he fought with six platform fans on the shooting stage. It was clear that he didn't know much about the author or the editor either. Some words like "freedom" and "democracy" were used here and there, but the speech was mostly very general. He or she then spoke. The people in the room were so confused and quiet that he couldn't have known what he was talking about. They couldn't understand him because of his accent. The author spoke for about an hour, and then he or she left. We were all left wondering what we were doing. What does an English artist have to do with a company that makes Tamil films for regular people? People whose lives didn't give them many chances to develop an interest in English poetry Even the poet looked confused. He must have thought it was strange that he was talking about the ups and downs of being an English poet. It was still a mystery why he came to visit. The world's best prose writers might not agree with me, but every day I become more sure that writing prose is not and never will be the true goal of a genius. Rejection slips don't mean anything to the patient, a persistent and persevering drudge whose heart is so small that nothing can break it. He immediately makes a new copy of the long writing piece and sends it to another editor with postage for the work to be sent back. The Hindu had put up a small notice in an unimportant area of an unimportant page for these kinds of people about a short story contest put on by a British magazine called The Encounter. Of course, the Gemini elite didn't know much about The Encounter. Before I sent a copy that cost a lot of money by mail, I wanted to find out more about the magazine. go to England. Back then, the door to the British Council Library didn't have any long, complicated signs that would have made you feel like you were sneaking into a banned area. And there were copies of The Encounter sitting around that were in different stages of being brand new and had almost never been read. When I read the editor's name, my heart swelled like a bell. It was the poet who had been to the Gemini Studios. I sang as I sealed the envelope and wrote his address because I felt like I had found a long-lost brother. In Indian movies, long-lost brothers find each other by singing the same song in the first and last reels. I thought he would be singing the same song at the same time. Stephen Spender has five. His name was Stephen.
 Years later, when I wasn't at Gemini Studios and had a lot of free time but not much money, I was interested in anything that was on sale. There were a bunch of brand-new books for fifty pesos each on the sidewalk in front of the Madras Mount Road Post Office. In reality, they were both copies of the same book—a beautiful American hardback. Since it was the 50th anniversary of the Russian Revolution, there was a "special low-priced student edition. I paid fifty pence for a copy of The God That Failed. "Their Journeys into Communism and Their Disillusioned Return" was written by six famous writers: Andre Gide, Richard Wright, Ignazio Silone, Arthur Koestler, Louis Fischer, and Stephen Spender. Spender Stephen! All of a sudden, the book became very important. The artist Stephen Spender had been to Gemini Studios! In an instant, I felt a hazy light fill a dark part of my thoughts. It was no longer a secret how people at Gemini Studios felt about Stephen Spender. Spender's poems might not have much to do with the boss of the Gemini Studios. But not with God; that didn't work.


Key points to help you break down the narrative for easier understanding:

These key points summarize the narrative's main ideas and events.


Summary

The passage describes the author's experiences while working at Gemini Studios, a prominent film studio in India, during the mid-20th century. The author highlights various aspects of the studio, including the make-up department's use of "Pancake" makeup material, the diverse and nationally integrated makeup team, and the strict hierarchy within the department.

The author introduces Kothamangalam Subbu, a key figure at Gemini Studios, who was an accomplished poet and actor. Subbu's loyalty to the studio and his creative contributions to filmmaking are praised.

The passage also mentions the Moral Re-Armament (MRA) group's visit to Gemini Studios, which had a significant impact on the local theatre scene, and an English poet, Stephen Spender's visit, which left both the author and the studio staff baffled.

The author concludes with a personal connection to Stephen Spender, who later wrote about his disillusionment with communism in a book titled "The God That Failed," shedding light on the mysterious reaction to Spender's visit at Gemini Studios.

Overall, the passage provides insight into the inner workings and cultural dynamics of a prominent Indian film studio during a specific period, as well as the influence of notable personalities on the studio's atmosphere.


The passage contains several proper names, which are as follows:

These proper names play significant roles in the author's narrative, helping to convey the cultural and historical context of Gemini Studios and the individuals associated with it.


Forty challenging words from the narrative along with their meanings:


Understanding the text

1. The author has used gentle humour to point out human foibles. Pick out instances of this to show how this serves to make the piece interesting.

2. Why was Kothamangalam Subbu considered No. 2 in Gemini Studios?

3. How does the author describe the incongruity of an English poet addressing the audience at Gemini Studios?

4. What do you understand about the author’s literary inclinations from the account?


Answers:

Talking about the text

Discuss in small groups taking off from points in the text.

1. Film-production today has come a long way from the early days of the Gemini Studios.

2. Poetry and films.

3. Humour and criticism.


Answers:

In contrast, today's film production involves advanced technology, sophisticated special effects, high-quality makeup materials, and global collaboration. Modern filmmakers have access to cutting-edge equipment, computer-generated imagery (CGI), and a wide range of resources to create visually stunning and complex cinematic experiences. Additionally, the Indian film industry has grown into a global powerhouse with a diverse range of genres and storytelling approaches.


Poetry and films share common elements, such as storytelling, symbolism, and emotional expression. Filmmakers often draw inspiration from poetry to infuse their movies with lyrical and artistic qualities. Conversely, poets may find inspiration in cinema and its visual storytelling techniques.

Today, this connection between poetry and films continues to thrive. Many contemporary films incorporate poetic elements in their narratives and visuals, and some filmmakers collaborate with poets to enhance the artistic depth of their work. This synergy between poetry and films highlights the versatility and creative possibilities within the world of storytelling.


At the same time, the author uses humour as a tool for criticism. The text subtly criticizes the perception of certain individuals' roles within the studio and the hierarchy maintained within the make-up department. The author also indirectly criticizes the incongruity of an English poet addressing the audience at Gemini Studios, highlighting the disparity between the poet's subject matter and the audience's interests.

This blend of humour and criticism not only serves to entertain but also invites readers to reflect on the quirks and ironies of the studio environment and the broader context of artistic expression. It underscores how humour can be an effective means of conveying subtle critique while maintaining a light-hearted narrative style.


Noticing transitions

• This piece is an example of a chatty, rambling style. One thought leads to another which is then dwelt upon at length.

• Read the text again and mark the transitions from one idea to another. The first one is indicated below.

Make-up department                Office-boy                      Subbu


Answers:

Transition: Office-boy - The narrative shifts to describing the role of the office-boy in the make-up department.

Transition: Subbu - The focus then turns to Kothamangalam Subbu, a prominent figure in the studio, who had a significant role in filmmaking and poetry.

Transition: In all instances of frustration - The author discusses the narrator's experience of dealing with the office-boy and their penchant for lengthy lectures.

Transition: In those days I worked in a cubicle - The narrative shifts to describing the author's own workspace and experiences in the cubicle.

Transition: It is likely that the Boss thought likewise too - The author discusses the perception of their work by others, including their boss.

Transition: So, anyone who felt I should be given some occupation - The narrative shifts to describing how others perceived the author's role and would occasionally visit the cubicle.

Transition: In all instances of frustration - The author continues to describe the frustrations and resentments experienced by the office-boy.

Transition: In those days I worked in a cubicle - The narrative returns to discussing the author's workspace and experiences in the cubicle.

These transitions demonstrate the chatty and rambling style of the text, where one thought leads to another, and the author explores various aspects of the studio environment and personal experiences.


Writing

You must have met some interesting characters in your neighbourhood or among your relatives. Write a humorous piece about their idiosyncrasies. Try to adopt the author’s rambling style, if you can.

In my neighbourhood and among my relatives, there exists a rich tapestry of characters, each with their own delightful quirks and idiosyncrasies. Let me take you on a whimsical journey through this motley crew of fascinating folks, all in the author's rambling style.

First up, there's Uncle Wilbur, who believes he possesses the secret to eternal youth. Every morning, rain or shine, he embarks on a rigorous routine of leaping jacks, yoga poses, and enthusiastic chanting of "age is just a number." He insists on demonstrating his agility by attempting to somersault on the front lawn, much to the bewilderment of passersby. We all secretly hope he doesn't take a tumble and confirm that gravity indeed applies to him.

Then there's Aunt Mildred, the undisputed champion of collecting porcelain figurines. Her living room resembles a miniature museum with rows upon rows of delicate porcelain cats, dogs, and even unicorns. She talks to them as if they're her confidants and often throws tea parties for the porcelain menagerie. It's quite a sight to see Aunt Mildred engaged in intense conversations with her inanimate entourage while sipping Earl Grey tea.

Our next character, Mr. Jenkins, is the neighbourhood’s self-proclaimed weatherman. Armed with a rusty barometer and a collection of seaweed, he predicts the weather with absolute certainty. His forecasts range from "a light drizzle of lemonade" to "a thunderstorm of custard." The neighbours have learned to keep an umbrella handy, just in case Mr. Jenkins' whimsical weather predictions come true.

Now, let's not forget dear old Mrs. Haggerty, who has an unusual penchant for collecting garden gnomes. Her front yard resembles a gnome convention, complete with a gnome mayor, gnome police officers, and even a gnome marching band. Every morning, she holds council meetings with her ceramic constituents, debating matters of great importance like the scarcity of rainbow-colored mushrooms.

And how could I omit my neighbour, Mr. Grumblepuss, whose sole mission in life is to collect parking tickets? He considers them a badge of honour, proudly displaying them on his car dashboard like trophies. When questioned about this peculiar hobby, he simply grumbles and mutters something about "supporting the local economy."

Last but not least, there's Granny Gertrude, who insists on wearing mismatched socks to confuse the sock-stealing gnomes she believes reside in her closet. She's convinced that the gnomes have a particular fondness for left socks, so she always pairs her right sock with an entirely unrelated left sock, leaving us all in stitches.

In my neighbourhood and among my relatives, these eccentric characters add a dash of colour to our lives. Their quirks and idiosyncrasies remind us that it's the peculiarities that make life interesting. So, the next time you encounter someone with a penchant for predicting custard storms or hosting tea parties for porcelain cats, remember to celebrate the delightful oddities that make our world a bit more whimsical.


Extra Questions:


Answers:


 11. Describe some of Subbu's accomplishments in the world of cinema and literature.

 

Subbu composed several original 'story poems' in folk refrain and diction. He also wrote a sprawling novel titled "Thillana Mohanambal," featuring numerous well-etched characters. His works successfully recreated the mood and manner of the Devadasis of the early 20th century. Additionally, Subbu was an outstanding actor, even in subsidiary roles, often outshining the main actors.

           

12. Why did Subbu have enemies despite his friendly and charitable nature?

 

Subbu had enemies, possibly because he was perceived as being too close and intimate with "The Boss" (the head of Gemini Studios). His demeanor might have resembled that of a sycophant, and he was always ready to say positive things about everything, which could have led to resentment among some.

           

13. How was the staff of Gemini Studios influenced by poets like S.D.S. Yogiar, Sangu Subramanyam, Krishna Sastry, and Harindranath Chattopadhyaya?

 

The staff of Gemini Studios was influenced by these poets, who were associated with the studio. They created an environment where poetry and literature were appreciated. The studio had a leisurely atmosphere, conducive to artistic pursuits, and many staff members were followers of Gandhi and wore khadi clothing.

           

14. What event involving Frank Buchman's Moral Re-Armament army is mentioned in the narrative, and how did it impact the studio and Tamil drama?

 

Frank Buchman's Moral Re-Armament army, consisting of about two hundred members, visited Madras, and Gemini Studios played host to them. They presented plays like 'Jotham Valley' and 'The Forgotten Factor,' which impressed the Tamil drama community. This led to a trend in Tamil plays incorporating scenes of sunrise and sunset with minimalistic sets and a flute tune, inspired by the MRA's performances.

           

15. Who was Stephen Spender, and why did he visit Gemini Studios? What was the outcome of his visit?

 

Stephen Spender was an English poet and editor who visited Gemini Studios. The visit left both the staff at Gemini Studios and Stephen Spender himself puzzled, as they could not understand the relevance of an English poet addressing an audience at a Tamil film studio. The outcome of his visit remained an unexplained mystery in the narrative.

           

16. What did the staff at Gemini Studios think of Stephen Spender's visit, and why was it puzzling to them?

 

The staff at Gemini Studios, including the head, had little knowledge of Stephen Spender and his work. They found his visit puzzling because they couldn't comprehend why an English poet would be speaking about the experiences of an English poet to an audience primarily engaged in making Tamil films for the masses. It seemed incongruous and perplexing to them.

           

17. How did the encounter with Stephen Spender relate to the theme of communism and the cultural climate of the time?

 

The encounter with Stephen Spender hinted at the cultural climate of the time, where political ideologies like communism were viewed with suspicion. Spender's visit left everyone baffled, reflecting the prevailing mistrust of anything related to communism. The narrative indirectly highlights the cultural and political undercurrents of the era.

           

18. Why did the legal adviser lose his job when the Story Department at Gemini Studios was closed down?

 

The legal adviser, despite being officially known as the legal adviser, was referred to as the opposite. He unintentionally contributed to ending the career of a talented but temperamental actress by recording her tirade on the set. When he played back the recording, it had a traumatic effect on the actress, leading to the end of her acting career. Consequently, the Story Department was closed down, and the legal adviser lost his job along with the poets and writers.

           

19. What was the significance of the visit of an English poet (Stephen Spender) to the film studio in the context of the narrative?

 

The significance of Stephen Spender's visit lies in its inexplicable nature. It serves as a symbol of the cultural divide between English poetry and Tamil cinema and underscores the puzzlement of the studio staff and the author regarding the incongruity of the visit.

           

20. What is "The God That Failed," and why does it become relevant in the story?

 

"The God That Failed" is a book featuring essays by six eminent men of letters who described their journeys into communism and their disillusionment with it. The relevance of this book in the story is that it includes an essay by Stephen Spender, the English poet who visited Gemini Studios. The author discovers this connection, shedding light on Spender's background and ideology.