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Gamperaliya: The Greatest Masterpiece of Sinhala Cinema

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PLACES, PEOPLE & PASSIONS (3Ps)

Dr. Chandana (Chandi) Jayawardena DPhil
President – Chandi J. Associates Inc. Consulting, Canada
chandij@sympatico.ca

Early Movies

When I was very young, my parents started taking me to see popular, animated movies produced by Walt Disney. They took me to see my first Sinhala movie when I was three. I don’t remember too much about that movie – ‘Sooraya’ except that one of the main actors was Alfred Edirimanne, a good friend of my father. A couple of years later I remember watching another Sinhala movie – ‘Daivayogaya’ which was memorable mainly because of beautiful singing by Rukmani Devi, and the first-ever movie appearance by a handsome young supporting actor – Gamini Fonseka. When one of my uncles took my elder sister and me to see ‘Kavata Andare’ at the Ritz Cinema near our house at Borella in 1960, I thought that Eddie Jayamanne was hilarious acting as the famous court jester of a Sinhala king.

Ranmuthu Duwa’ and ‘Dr. No’

When I was a kid my favourite Sinhala movie was ‘Ranmuthu Duwa’ (Island of Treasures). In 1962, my parents took my two sisters and myself to the Sapphire Cinema in Colombo to see this first colour full-length Sinhala movie. With a budget of Rs. 400,000, it was the most expensive movie made in Ceylon, up to that point. It broke all box office records in Ceylon and its initial run in over 20 cinemas went beyond 100 days. It also made three young actors – Gamini Fonseka, Joe Abeywickrama and Jeevarani Kurukulasuriya, mega stars. Like all my eight-year-old friends, I became an ardent fan of Gamini Fonseka, who was only 26 then.

It was co-produced by Ceylonese Shesha Palihakkara and British-American Dr. Arthur C. Clarke and directed by Canadian Mike Wilson. It showed, for the first time, the underwater wonders of the seas around Ceylon, which had barely begun to be explored. In an era when Sinhala cinema was dominated by formulaic movies influenced by popular, melodrama Indian movies and music, ‘Ranmuthu Duwa’ was a breath of fresh air and set a trend. It had only three songs (compared to an average of eight songs per Sinhala movie made since 1947), all originals that made a new generation of musicians led by Amaradeva very popular over the next few decades.

Maha Kappina Walauwa in Balapitiya

Two months after that, my father told me one evening, “Chandana, let’s go for a walk by the beach.” Our walk ended at the Savoy Cinema and he surprised me by taking me to watch ‘Dr. No,’ the first 007 movie with Sean Connery as James Bond. My father had read a few books of Ian Flemming, and explained to me that the character of James Bond was loosely based on the author’s life. From then on, I became a ‘Picture Pissa’ or a movie buff. I commenced keeping a record of all movies I watched and rated them with my own star system, rating movies between one star and five stars.

Chosen to Act in ‘Gamperaliya

One day at Bambalapitiya Flats I was playing cricket in the backyard of the house of one of my friends, Rohitha Wickremeratne. One of his elder brothers, who was much older than us, around his mid-twenties, was involved in stage plays and movie making. Dharmasiri Wickremeratne was watching me closely and Rohitha told me that his brother would like to have a quick chat with me. “Chandana, would you like to act in a movie?” was his question.

Two days later, we had three unexpected visitors arriving at our house in the evening. Film Director Lester James Peries, Film Editor Sumithra Gunawardena and Cinematographer Willie Blake, who was a neighbour of ours, came to see me and my parents. That evening I was chosen for the role of Tissa, in the movie ‘Gamperaliya.’ I was over the moon with excitement!

Shooting on Location

Lester decided that none of the scenes of ‘Gamperaliya’ would be shot in studios. One of my scenes was filmed in the Balapiitya railway station, where my screen mother dropped me off to take the train to school. Another scene was when I was transported in the family horse cart, but due to a problem with the old horse used for that scene, Lester decided to drop that scene.

Most of the other scenes were shot at a colonial manor house of a former village headman. This house – Maha Kappina Walauwa in Balapitiya was a beautiful, large and a historic building. The whole cast stayed there for weeks. This was a novel experience for me. My father travelled with me and stayed with me during shooting periods.

Lester and Sumithra in 1962.

Directed by the Greatest Movie Director of Ceylon

Lester was a very nice gentleman and had a smooth way of directing his actors and crew. In one scene my fellow actors were engaged in a family discussion. As I was not expected to appear in that scene, I was watching the process while leaning against a pillar in the meda midula (middle garden) of the house. The master movie director looked at me and softly said: “Baba, just remain in that pose and look at your screen mother and sisters, the same way you would look at your own mother and sisters.” He then gently signalled Willie Blake to move the camera from Punya Heendeniya, Trilicia Gunawardena, and Shanthi Lekha to do a close-up of me. I did not even feel that I was acting, but that scene was memorable and very natural.

I watched Lester directing the main actor – Henry Jayasena, and then newcomers – Tony Ranasinghe and Anula Karunatilake who debuted their long and successful movie careers with ‘Gamperaliya.’ I also noticed that the director took a dozen takes of a scene when he was not satisfied. He was a perfectionist.

Lester was a bachelor at that time, but I felt that he had a special connection with his movie editor – Sumithra Gunawardena. They both were graduates of the London School of Film Technique. In 1963, a filmmaking company called Cinelanka was established with the producer of ‘Gamperaliya’ – Anton Wickramasinghe, Lester, and Sumitra as major shareholders. Lester and Sumithra married in 1964 and were together for 54 years until the demise of Lester in 2018.

Hanging out with the Greatest Novelist of Ceylon

During my second visit to Maha Kappina Walauwa, to shoot a traditional New Year scene, I was pleased to meet then 72-year-old Martin Wickramasinghe who was often acclaimed as the father of modern Sinhala literature. His novels had been translated to languages such as English, Tamil, Mandarin, Russian, Japanese, French, Dutch, Bulgarian and Romanian. Martin Wickramasinghe was a legend, and I was fortunate to meet him.

Martin Wickremasinghe’s most famous work include a trilogy of great novels commencing with ‘Gamperaliya(). It was written and first published in 1944. The novel depict the breakup of traditional village life in colonial Ceylon due to the impact of modernisation between the early and mid-20th century. The gradual subversion of the traditional economic and social structure of the village by the commercial culture of the city is portrayed through the story of an aristocratic family in a southern village. The novel has been widely praised for its realism in depicting Sinhala rural life and is considered one of the most important work of Sinhala literature.

Martin Wickramasinghe gave me some tips when we were playing a traditional New Year indoor game played in villages – ‘Panchi’, for a scene. He knew my father well and was impressed that at age nine, I had read some of his books. Why he took special interest in my role, my father told me, was because the character I was playing – Tissa, was loosely based on the author’s childhood. Wickrama Bogoda acted as Tissa when the character became older.

My father had heard that Martin Wickramasinghe was not pleased with Lester James Peries’s choice of cinema idol, Gamini Fonseka, for the role of Jinadasa, who marries the main character of the story, Nanda (my screen sister). The character of Jinadasa was somewhat that of a weaker person and the author felt that Gamini Fonseka appeared to be too strong for the role. Perhaps that was the reason for his arrival on location the day Gamini Fonseka was expected on the sets.

Meeting the Greatest Movie Actor of Ceylon

I was looking forward to meeting Gamini Fonseka. I remember a few special things when I met my idol for the first time. He drove a sylish sports car; he spoke perfect English and smoked a lot. Well, at that time most men smoked. Then he did three things which were memorable to me. He chatted with me and became friendly, then he jokingly lifted me, perhaps to show off his strong muscles, and then he signed my autograph album which I still treasure.

Gamini was an amazing actor. I was watching him crying in a scene when Nanda and Jinadasa’s son died at birth. Without any help, he had tears pouring from his eyes. “Gamini uses a technique known as ‘method acting’ used by actors such as Marlon Brando” my father whispered into my ear, while comparing Gamini to the best Hollywood actor at that time.

In shooting that scene, Lester did something uncharacteristic of him. He was satisfied with only two takes. Lester said, “Cut!” with a big smile. He then turned to his friend and said, “Well done, Gamini. That was simply perfect!” There was a pin-drop silence among all of us who witnessed a piece of brilliant acting by the greatest actor Ceylon/Sri Lanka was blessed to have. Martin Wickramasinghe’s grin and nodding his head, confirmed in my mind that he finally agreed with Lester’s choice for the role of Jinadasa.

Gamperaliya’ becoming the Greatest Sinhala Movie

In 1963, when ‘Gamperaliya’ was released, it was the turning point in Sinhala cinema, as it did away with all the formulaic elements (songs, dance, comic relief and fights) present in popular cinema at that time. It proved the viability of artistic cinema in the country and gave Sinhala cinema a previously absent sense of prestige.

Prior to its public release on December 20, 1963, ‘Gamperaliya’ competed at the third Moscow International Film Festival and won a Merit Certificate. As an actor of one of the five movies nominated for the best film of the year award at the first-ever Sarasaviya Film Awards, I was invited with my parents to the awards ceremony held at the brand-new Asoka Cinema in Colombo 14, in 1964. ‘Gamperaliya’ was judged the Best Film of the year and won seven out of 11 categories of awards.

Then came the history-making big surprise, not only for the producers of ‘Gamperaliya’ and Sinhala Cinema, but for all citizens of Ceylon. In 1965, ‘Gamperaliya’ was awarded the Golden Peacock award for the Best Film at the prestigious Third International Film Festival held in India. The festival was graded ‘A’ category by the Paris-based Federation International de Producers de Films (on par with Cannes, Berlin, Venice, Karlovy Vary and Moscow International film festivals). The festival was chaired by the greatest Indian film-maker Satyajit Ray, who famously had said that “Lester is my closest cinema relative in Asia!”

Gamperaliya’ also won and the Golden Head of Palanque at the Eighth World Review of Film Festivals held in Mexico and won silver at the 1967 Cork Film festival in Ireland. No other Sinhala film before that had won any international awards.

The unprecedented achievements of a Sinhala movie recorded by ‘Gamperaliya’ were celebrated in a few major events held in Ceylon, including an official event organized by the Cultural Affairs Department and the Arts Council of Ceylon. I was proud to be invited to such events.

At that event, when Anton Wickremasinghe told my father, “Ask Chandana to meet Lester at his house to collect his acting fees”, my family was surprised. We never discussed payments as it was simply an honour to appear in such a great movie and work with such an amazing crew. Several months later I walked from Bambalapitiya Flats to nearby Dickman’s Road to Lester and Sumithra’s house and collected my fee. It was Rs. 500. While handing me the envelope, Lester joked: “You know Chandana, for ‘Gamperaliya’ you were paid more than the highest paid actor in Ceylon – Gamini Fonseka!” I was surprised, but then realised that Gamini had acted free in ‘Gamperaliya’!

… To be continued next Sunday in a follow up article titled:

‘My 60-year long Movie Madness”



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The Digital Underground

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Illegal Foreign Exchange, Undiyal, Hawala and Money Laundering, A Four-Part Investigative Series

Forex Platforms, Cryptocurrency, AI and the New Financial Battlefield

THE INVISIBLE FINANCIAL EMPIRE – PART III

The Boyfriend Who Was Never Real

Priya, a 34-year-old professional in Colombo, met “David” on LinkedIn. He claimed to work in fintech in Singapore. For six weeks they exchanged messages daily, about work, about life, about a recent trip he had taken to the Maldives. Eventually, the conversation turned, gently and naturally, to money.

“I’ve been trading on this platform, let me show you,” he said, sharing a screenshot of a sleek trading dashboard showing consistent, impressive returns.

Priya invested a small amount first, $500. Within days, her dashboard showed it had grown to $650. She withdrew $100 successfully, just to test it. It worked. Encouraged, she invested more. Then more. Over two months, she transferred a total of $42,000 into the platform.

When she tried to withdraw her full balance, the platform demanded a “regulatory release fee” of $8,000 before funds could be unlocked. She paid it. Then another fee appeared. Then the platform stopped responding altogether. “David” vanished. The trading dashboard, the customer support chat, the entire brokerage, all of it had never been real.

This is what investigators now call “pig butchering”, and, in 2026, the most disturbing development is not the scam itself, which has existed for years, but what now powers it: artificial intelligence has industrialised the entire operation.

From Manual Fraud to Machine-Generated Deception

For most of the past decade, romance-and-investment scams, like the one that targeted Priya, required enormous manual labour. Scam operations, many of them staffed by trafficked workers held against their will in compounds across Myanmar, Cambodia, and Laos, needed real humans to build relationships with victims over weeks, manage fake trading platforms, and respond convincingly to questions.

That labour-intensive model has now been substantially automated. According to financial-crime researchers tracking this shift through 2026, threat actors are standing up entire AI-generated “brokerage” experiences end-to-end, complete with KYC onboarding, branded customer-service chat, animated portfolio dashboards, and falsified live market data feeds, and operating them at industrial scale against multiple victims simultaneously. Generative-AI relationship managers now front the WhatsApp and Telegram conversations that once required real human scammers. AI-cloned regulator letters are generated on demand to justify the fake “release fees” that drain victims a final time before the platform disappears.

What has changed is not the deception itself, it is the production economics. The cost of running a credible synthetic brokerage against one additional victim has collapsed, meaning a single criminal network can now run hundreds of “Davids” simultaneously, each one indistinguishable from a genuine fintech professional until it is too late. (Figure 01)

Sri Lanka: From Victim Pool to Operating Base

Sri Lanka’s relationship to this global scam economy has shifted in an alarming direction over the past two years. The country is no longer only a source of victims, it has become an operating base for the criminal networks themselves.

In April, 2026, Sri Lankan police raided a five-star hotel property, in Ambakandavila, and arrested 150 individuals, including 133 Chinese nationals, 13 Vietnamese nationals, and one Malaysian national, allegedly running a cyber fraud centre with links to international criminal syndicates, based in Myanmar and Cambodia. Investigators say the operation followed a now-familiar regional pattern: recruiters advertise “online marketing” or “data entry” jobs on social media to lure foreign workers to Sri Lanka, confiscate their passports on arrival, and force them to operate scam campaigns under threat.

The Central Bank of Sri Lanka has formally flagged pig-butchering scams as a “developing threat,” warning that foreign scam networks are increasingly targeting overseas nationals through scam farms operating from Sri Lankan soil. A 2026 United Nations report estimated that at least 300,000 people have been trafficked into scam centres across Southeast Asia.

This is not an abstract international problem. It is unfolding in hotels and rented properties across the country, exploiting the same infrastructure, high-speed internet, affordable accommodation, accessible tourist visas, that Sri Lanka has built to attract legitimate digital businesses and tourists.

Where the Money Actually Goes: The Stablecoin Pipeline

Behind every successful pig-butchering scam sits a laundering pipeline that has been transformed almost as dramatically as the scams themselves, and the transformation has a single dominant feature: stablecoins.

According to the Financial Action Task Force’s March 2026, report, drawing on analysis from blockchain intelligence firms Chainalysis and TRM Labs, stablecoins accounted for 84% of the USD 154 billion in illicit virtual asset transaction volume recorded in 2025, the highest share ever observed, and a dramatic jump from just 15% only a few years earlier. TRM Labs separately found that illicit entities received USD 141 billion in stablecoins, in 2025 alone, the highest level observed in five years. (See Table 01)

The scale of state-level abuse is striking. A Russian sanctions-evasion network built around the ruble-pegged stablecoin A7A5 processed more than USD 72 billion in total volume in 2025.

Fighting Fire with Fire: AI on the Defensive Side

The same artificial intelligence reshaping financial crime is also, out of necessity, reshaping the defence against it. Legacy anti-money laundering systems, built on static, rule-based thresholds, have proven badly outmatched by AI-generated fraud operating at machine speed. Research cited by compliance technology analysts suggests that between 90% and 95% of alerts generated by legacy AML systems are false positives, consuming enormous investigator time while genuinely suspicious activity slips through.

This is not a frictionless transition. AI models are notoriously difficult to explain to regulators and examiners in the way traditional rule-based systems are. The practical compromise emerging across the industry is a hybrid model: AI handles the initial scoring and prioritisation of risk, while documented rule-based logic still governs the final decision that must be defensible to a regulator.

The Regulatory Response: Catching Up to the Digital Frontier

Regulators worldwide have begun moving to close the most dangerous gaps exposed by this digital transformation of financial crime. (See Table 02)

What Comes Next

We have now traced this investigation from the centuries-old mechanics of Hawala and Undiyal, through the three-stage architecture that turns criminal proceeds into apparently legitimate wealth, to the AI-generated frontier of digital financial crime reshaping all of it at machine speed.

In our concluding instalment, Part IV: “Sri Lanka at the Crossroads: Economic Consequences, Organised Crime and the Road Ahead”, we bring this series home. We examine precisely what all of this costs Sri Lanka in hard economic terms: lost remittances, exchange rate pressure, tax revenue forgone, and the 2026 FATF evaluation that will determine whether the country’s institutions can demonstrate, with evidence rather than legislation alone, that they are equal to this challenge. We close with a practical policy roadmap.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe.
Views expressed in this article are personal.)

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‘There are no private universities in Sri Lanka’ – some considerations for higher education reform

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Academics involved in education policy like to say that there is no such thing as a private university in Sri Lanka. The only ‘universities’ in the country are state universities; anything else offering degrees is a private higher education institution (HEI). This position is technically accurate. Yet, in the discourse and imagination of the public, private universities are very real – people teach in them, students register in them, families pay fees, and such degree holders enter job markets in Sri Lanka and outside.

For decades, activists concerned for public higher education have ignored or resisted looking at private HEIs, as if such scrutiny would taint them. Others have worked in both types of institutions, carrying practices from each to the other. The apex body governing state universities, the UGC, has, meanwhile, ignored the concept of conflict of interest and appointed individuals in private higher education in committees and leadership positions. It is unsurprising then that some of the ideologies informing private higher education appear in reform agendas in the state sector.

This is a good time then to consider the varying types of private HEIs around us, and to take a look at some of the issues within them in the hope that higher education reform agendas will include private, as well as state higher education.

What is a ‘private university’?

First, some clarifications. In the public imaginary, a ‘private university’ is typically an institution that provides a foreign or local degree for which the student makes a payment. But this broad classification encompasses a host of diverse institutions and types of degrees which I detail below.

The Non-State Higher Education Division (NSHE) of the Ministry of Education has recognised 295 degrees by 32 institutions. Most of these are private companies and include a handful of established, well-known private HEIs that are ‘university like’. The degrees are local degrees conferred by the institutions accredited by the NSHE Division. While private HEIs conferring local degrees must be accredited by the NSHE Division, there appears to be no legal consequence for not doing so. In addition, there are several permutations of the private degree that miss the net of this Division and the Standing Committee on Accreditation and Quality Assurance (SCAQA) that assists this Division.

For one, degrees conferred by foreign universities offered, via these same private HEIs, are not vetted by the NSHE Division. Secondly, there is a growing plethora of private HEIs which have either no physical presence locally or only a dubious presence. The University Grants Commission has notified the public, through their website, that foreign universities listed in the Commonwealth Universities Yearbook and the World Higher Education Database are recognised, but refrained from giving any other details – which degrees? Offered by what modes? These details are not known. Some of the foreign universities in the lists may be legitimate entities in their own land but the degrees conferred locally, in their name, may not adhere to curriculum or teaching specifications of the NSHE Division or the UGC.

Another troubling phenomenon is the ‘top up degree’, which appears to work on the same principle as that of a pre-paid mobile connection: if I have a Diploma or an HND of a sort, I am eligible to complete a course of study which provides me with a degree, usually from a foreign university. The idea that someone who does not initially qualify for a degree programme should be able to work their way towards one is a progressive notion. This is the concept that open and distance learning (ODL) was based on initially, but which is now sadly exploited. ODL models are expected to provide opportunity for learning for those who may be excluded from traditional learning institutions. In Sri Lanka, however, we have seen ODL become a marketplace offering easy to obtain, for-fee qualifications by institutions with little commitment to superior teaching and learning.

Finally, a perusal of the many types of private HEIs and their varied degrees bring to mind another question – how should the private degrees, provided by state institutions (that are not educational institutions), be regulated? Who should do so?

All of these create a host of problems for the public – for hopeful students and parents and trusting employers. For the higher education sector, recruitment of academic staff, too, has become difficult due to this plethora of ambiguous higher education qualifications, as I discussed in a previous Kuppi article (‘Recruiting academics to state universities’).

Some issues in private HEIs – a bellwether for change in state universities

In this second part of this article, I will discuss some aspects of work in private HEIs – albeit the more established institutions – given that such issues may appear in reform agendas in future.

Across state universities, all permanent staff of a specific category are paid according to the same criteria. The picture is not so clear when it comes to private HEIs since they are different entities legally, typically companies. Private HEIs have salary scales and financial incentives that are different to each other. The more established private HEIs reportedly have attractive renumeration packages, possibly a reason for academics of state universities migrating eagerly to such institutions during sabbatical years and on retirement. This may not of course be the case with other less established, or improperly registered HEIs of which we know little. Academic staff of these more accepted private HEIs seem to value the high financial remuneration they receive (in comparison to state universities) as something that makes their work rewarding.

Attractive remuneration is important to sustain the good life and is at times seen as the institution’s way of encouraging good work. Yet, this has implications for the future of the institution: to continue to deliver on promised financial packages, institutions must continue to have large profit margins. One strategy has been to enroll multiple cohorts of students per year, even up to three or four intakes per year. This can result in exploitative work conditions, since staff must cater to all these cohorts in that same year. If there is inadequate staff, employees are further burdened. On the other hand, if there is a sudden drop in enrolments (degrees can go out of fashion) unexpected layoffs occur. Similar to other sectors that employ short-term contract staff – including state universities – in private HEIs, too, individual teachers, who are on short term contracts that need regular renewal, can feel pressured to work under difficult or exploitative conditions.

At the same time, even in the more established private HEIs, work norms differ from those of state universities in that they include promotional work that keeps the institution’s name in the eye of the public. The Marketing (or similarly named) unit comes up in conversations as one of the most important departments. It appears to weigh in on decision-making related to the number of staff, the amount of re-sits per exams, and other pedagogically important matters. This is a worrying example of how financial rationales interfere with pedagogically or academically sound processes, resulting in problematic results in the classroom. On the plus side, junior colleagues, who had experience in both state and private HEIs, also felt that they faced less harassment in private HEIs – primarily due to the private HEIs ability to take swift action in reported cases of harassment. This is a real indictment on state institutions and their reluctance to address chronic issues of harassment in our universities.

Yet, while we hear much about problems in state universities, we hardly hear of problems that staff in private HEIs face. One rationale for a lack of public expressions by staff is that expressions of discontent might lead to trouble given the importance of reputation for private HEIs. The worry about reputational damage is a growing concern in state universities, too, as evidenced by social media policies and internal conversations on reputational damage, consequent to negative publicity. Institutional worries of reputational damage are harmful in the long run since these impact not only freedom of expression by student and staff, but also research that is possible in and about the education sector.

Some thoughts at the end…


A close look at the private higher education sector is important given its strong presence in the country. Impending reform needs to regulate this diverse array of higher education offerings in the private sector, as well as the state institutions that offer privately-funded options of higher education (a topic for a separate Kuppi on its own). It is time we carefully considered how to build a whole system of higher education out of this broken mess.

Kaushalya Perera is a senior lecturer at the University of Colombo.

Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

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Ready for solo spotlight

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Nish Peiris: Excited about future plans

Singer Nish Peiris is set to take the next big step in her music journey.

The talented vocalist, who has been seen and heard in the scene here for a short while, and was also featured with the now-defunct band, Inner Vision, has announced that she will be fully committing to her solo career, after completing her degree this year.

“I’m finishing my degree this year, and after that I’ll be fully committing to my solo music career,” Nish told The Island.

“I’ve already got a few tours lined up for next year, so I’m really excited for what’s ahead.”

Fans, no doubt, will remember Nish for her smooth voice and stage presence, and the good news is that she is now ready to chart her own path and bring new music to audiences at home and abroad.

With tours already planned for 2027, the year 2026 promises to be an exciting year for the young artiste as she steps into the spotlight on her own.

We wish Nish every success in this new chapter!

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