Features

The state of the art: Our cinema

Published

4 years ago

2022/04/23

Thilina Walpola

By Uditha Devapriya

(With input from Dhananjaya Samarakoon)

In 1965 the Sri Lankan government published the findings of a Commission of Inquiry into the Film Industry. Filled with proposals and representations from prominent players in the Ceylonese cinema, the Commission made several recommendations. The most important of these was the establishment of a National Film Corporation. Though this would not come to pass until six years later, with the election of a socialist regime committed to a level playing field in the industry, the need for such an institution was frequently underscored.

Among those who made representations to the Commission was Ceylon Theatres. Admitting to the problems of the local cinema, the organisation contended that whether financed by the State or by private players, the film producer “cannot escape the limitations imposed by his audience.” Distinguishing between the cinema and the other arts, it added that while painters, playwrights, novelists, and sculptors could create without paying much regard for the reactions of the masses, the producer remained “the slave of his audience.”

Perhaps the most important point the Commission made was the link between the fortunes of the cinema and the country’s economic problems. Advocating greater intervention in the sector, the centre-left administration which took office in 1970 recognised the problems of allowing a few private players “to virtually control the local film industry.” To that end the new government sought to reduce the influence of monopolistic elements in the market, by regulating the production, distribution, and exhibition of films. Seeking superior production values and greater local output, it tried to give the cinema a new lease of life.

In 1977 the controls enforced by the Sirimavo Bandaranaike administration were loosened. The most immediate result of the new policy was, on the one hand, “ever increasing access to American and Hong Kong productions” and, on the other, the removal of “impediments for newcomers to enter the field.” In other words, from a level playing field, the industry transformed into a business venture. The introduction of television had a considerable say in the reduction of audience numbers that followed, though commentators are divided on the extent to which it led to a fall in cinema hall attendance.

Any examination of the problems and dilemmas of the Sri Lankan cinema must consider these historical developments and shifts. Rather belatedly recognising what should have been acknowledged a long time ago, the Sri Lankan State officially categorised the cinema as an industry late last year. Though this comes too little, too late, it nevertheless behoves us to consider and reflect upon the issues facing the field now, from both administrative and creative standpoints. As always, of course, the link between these issues and the country’s economic problems remains relevant, as much as it did in 1965.

Glancing through the history of the Sri Lankan cinema, from its inception in 1947, we note that the deterioration of creative standards has been rather sharp and dismal. What’s ironic is that despite such a descent, there’s no end to the courses being offered on filmmaking, acting, scriptwriting, and cinematography in the country today. We can conclude that the main contradiction here lies between an ever-fertile reserve of talent and a woeful lack of opportunity for such talent. In other words, we have enough and more talented people. But they lack the money, agency, and access to make full use of their talent.

Part of the reason, which hardly, if at all, gets mentioned by the local commentariat on the cinema, is the absence of an industrial base in the sector. It comes to no surprise that the peak of the Sri Lankan cinema should have been the 1960s and 1970s: these were years in which a flourishing artistic renaissance coincided a not insignificant industrial presence in the film sector. While State intervention became more pronounced under the United Front administration, the existence of a thriving commercial base in the industry ensured a steady stream of not just mainstream, but also artistic productions.

It’s entirely fitting, then, that the cultural revolution heralded by the general election of 1956, which saw a centre-left alliance touting the values of local art forms come to power, should face its peak in these two decades. It’s also fitting that the undisputed doyen of the Sri Lankan cinema, Lester James Peries, should not just make two masterpieces in a row – the highly literate Gamperaliya (1964) and the highly experimental Delovak Athara (1966) – but then follow them up with three further masterpieces, all done for a commercial player, Ceylon Theatres – Golu Hadawatha (1968), Akkara Paha (1969), and Nidhanaya (1970) – in this period. These were years of cultural experimentation, experimentation that benefitted from cultural sectors, especially film, being linked to an industrial framework.

Conversely, the deterioration of the cinema can be traceable to the deterioration of that industrial framework in the country. On the advice of the World Bank, Shiran Ilanperuma writes, the country’s first government “recklessly squandered foreign-currency reserves while avoiding major industrial investment.” Ilanperuma writes that by the 1960s, terms of trade had begun to shift irrevocably, “as the export of primary products and raw materials could not sustain the country’s consumption of imported manufactures.” This had a not insignificant impact on the cinema: by the late 1960s, it was becoming clear that unless the State stepped in, the Ceylonese cinema, for long dependent on an oligopoly of production companies, would collapse. This issue was what the National Film Corporation attempted to address upon its establishment in 1971, as it did over the next few years.

The implementation of swabasha, despite its obvious limitations, also had an impact on the trajectory of the cinema after the 1950s. Though reviled by the English-speaking elite, the empowerment of a Sinhalese-speaking middle-class gave rise to a bilingual intelligentsia, in turn paving the way for a bilingual cultural community. It was from this community that the likes of Dayananda Gunawardena, who gave us the finest adaptation of a French play ever turned into a Sinhalese film, Bakmaha Deege, hailed. While the deterioration of creative and intellectual standards within the population should be admitted, there is no doubt that at its heyday, the Sri Lankan cinema benefitted from a flourishing middle-class.

Today, unfortunately, despite the existence of an upward aspiring and largely Sinhalese middle bourgeoisie, prospects no longer seem good for the local cinema. In any country it is the middle-classes that produce, and reproduce, its cultural elites. In Sri Lanka, though, this community has, however one looks at it, regressed on so many levels, owing mainly to a declining economic situation. We can note the decline of standards in film and television production today, not so much in acting as in scriptwriting and camerawork. We can also note a despairing lack of imagination in films and TV serials: from predictable storylines to endless dialogues, we have come down dismally on so many fronts.

I think the problem has to do with the fact that we no longer explore new themes and issues through the cinema. If we do, we invariably create trends that are imitated and reproduced by a hundred or so other filmmakers and scriptwriters. Ho Gana Pokuna was a brilliant and a highly exceptional film, but it set a precedent for stories about impoverished village schools and idealistic teachers that continue to be filmed, even now. Aloko Udapadi sensationalised audiences and critics, but since its release five years ago we have been making million-rupee budget historical epics which look and feel despairingly predictable.

To be sure, these are hardly any problems specific to only the cinema. When was the last time a cover song didn’t make the rounds online, giving a temporary spotlight to the cover artist while popularising the original tune? When did a mainstream TV series, of which seem to be inundated with these days, not try to cut costs by way of static camera frames and endless expository dialogues? Art exhibitions, especially in Colombo, seem limited to an intellectual upper crust who can afford rental costs in the city and whose work seems not merely cut off from the world around them, but also downright indifferent to it.

We need to acknowledge that there can be no way out for the cinema here unless our cultural industries are linked to a proper industrial framework. In the 1960s, the last peak decade of the three big production companies, Sri Lanka faced an acute terms of trade and structural crisis that the State shielded the cinema from by establishing a Film Corporation and setting high artistic and administrative standards. This did not, to be sure, always work out well, but it did keep the cinema at bay during those difficult days of the 1970s. One can hardly be prudish about the liberalisation of the industry after 1977, but the fact is that the sluggish growth, and then decline, of the cinema remains very much linked to the economic and structural impasses we have been stumbling into since then.

The truth of the matter is that without a proper industrial policy and industrial base, no country’s cinema can be sustained for long. Whether from a creative or an administrative standpoint, the Sri Lankan cinema deserves much more than what it has been subjected to. But where are the policymakers and experts who can prescribe radical solutions, who can recommend an industrialisation plan that can help our cinema take off? In the US, in China, and in India, these problems have been, and are being, combated. In Sri Lanka this does not appear to be the case. That is to be regretted, deeply and sincerely.

(Uditha Devapriya can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com, while Dhananjaya Samarakoon can be reached at dhananjayasmrk@gmail.com)

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Features

Trump’s tariffs, AKD’s gazette and Sri Lanka’s diplomatic slumber

Published

11 hours ago

2026/07/17

Thilina Walpola

“We are rather respectable in Colombo. We go to bed fairly early, and we remain there till morning. “

According to Sri Lanka’s diplomatic folklore, the late S.W. R. D. Bandaranaike uttered these words while explaining the reasons for Sri Lanka’s abstention on the UN resolution condemning the Soviet invasion of Hungary. Apparently, SWRD’s foreign ministry officials were asleep at home when the diplomatic cable seeking instructions was received from New York. In those days, there were no cell phones, Internet, or even fax or telex machines. The diplomatic cables were sent through post offices. Decoding them was a slow and time-consuming process. Thus, the government could not provide appropriate instructions to our mission in New York in time, and the Sri Lankan delegation abstained on that sensitive UN vote.

Sri Lanka’s Absence from Section 301 Consultations

But then, how does one explain Sri Lanka’s absence from the crucial bilateral consultation held in Washington by the Office of the United States Trade Representative (USTR) during March-April on “Forced Labour” under the Section 301 of the US Trade Act of 1974? Didn’t our foreign and trade ministries send appropriate instructions to Washington in time? Even if the instructions from the foreign ministry were transmitted to our embassy in Washington by pigeon carriers, there was enough time for Sri Lanka to participate in those meetings.

In March, the USTR initiated these 301 investigations on 60 trading partners, and invited all of them for confidential consultations. Out of the 60, 46 participated in these consultations. Sri Lanka was not one of them. Other countries that didn’t participate in these consultations included China, Russia, and Venezuela! In addition to that, the Section 301 Committee conducted a public hearing with interested parties on April 28 and 29. Washington-based diplomats, representatives from few trade ministries as well as representatives from many foreign trade associations and chambers participated in these hearings. Sri Lanka was once again conspicuously absent.

As a result, when the USTR published the proposed forced labour tariffs on June 2nd, Sri Lanka ended up with a 12.5% duty. Pakistani and Indonesian diplomats participated in these consultations and took appropriate follow-up measures, and managed to enter the 10% duty category. As even a threat of a modest tariff hike could disrupt supply chains and reduce competitiveness, particularly in an industry such as garments, I discussed this issue on 15 June and underscored the importance of Sri Lanka’s participation at the next hearing, which was scheduled to be held from July 7th .

Awakening from Diplomatic Slumber and AKD’s Gazette

Fortunately, Sri Lanka finally awoke from weeks of diplomatic slumber, and Ambassador Mahinda Samarasinghe participated in the public hearing on 9 July, and promised, “…. · We have agreed to the text in our negotiations with the USTR on forced labour, …. The gazette as we speak is being printed and I’m getting the gazette tomorrow morning, and the gazette will be shared with USTR as I get it“.

As promised, President Anura Kumara Dissanayake issued a gazette on 10 July banning the imports of goods produced by forced labour. These new regulations are very similar to what Pakistan and Indonesia enacted in April, after their consultations with USTR in March. Why couldn’t we do it in April? Why did we wait till the very last minute?

Challenges ahead

“War is too important to be left to generals alone,” is a famous saying attributed to former French Premier Georges Clemenceau. Similarly, monitoring our main markets is too important to be left to diplomats alone. The United States is the largest single-country market for Sri Lanka. Therefore, Sri Lankan trade chambers and associations should become more proactive in these markets and participate in these events. For example, the chairman of the Pakistani apparel exporters association participated in the April hearings. Similarly, representatives from the Indian Agricultural and Processed Food Products Export Development Authority, the Federation of Indian Chambers of Commerce and Industry, the Confederation of Indian Industry, and Reliance Industries also participated in July hearings. At an event where each speaker is given only five minutes (strictly enforced), having a number of speakers from a country is an advantage. The presence of industry representatives in these kinds of events also help them understand the market dynamics and the future challenges. This is important, particularly because there will be many more challenges with Trump’s tariffs.

With the gazette issued on 10 July, Sri Lanka has imposed a prohibition on the importation of goods produced with forced labour. Now, the challenge will be to effectively enforce the prohibition. And what are the goods produced with forced labour? The USTR list only focuses on aluminum, cotton, electronics, lithium-ion batteries, rice, and tobacco. However, according to the U.S. Department of Labour, the list is much longer. Hence, this list may change continuously during the next two years and tariffs may fluctuate once again.

So, this is definitely not the time to slumber.

(The writer, a retired public servant, can be reached at senadhiragomi@gmail.com)

by Gomi Senadhira ✍️

Features

Tales of Mystery and Suspense 10 Casino for Sale

Published

11 hours ago

2026/07/17

Thilina Walpola

After the overwhelming grotesquerie of J K Rowling’s latest Cormoran Strike novel (written, I should have noted, as the others were, under the pseudonym Robert Galbraith), I thought I should return to the world of fun, and also a much shorter description since this thriller moves quickly without the layers of detail that Rowling engages in.

I then move to the second comic thriller by Caryl Brahms and S J Simon. This, their second story to feature Vladimir Stroganoff and Adam Quill, was Casino for Sale, as lunatic a romp as the first, though without the emphasis on the ballet that characterized A Bullet in the Ballet.

This one begins with the impresario Stroganoff buying a casino cheap from Baron Sam de Rabinovich, only to find that it was a rundown place, not the grand casino of La Bazouche, a resort on the Frenc+h Riviera, as he had initially thought. The grand one belonged to Lord Buttonhooke, and Stroganoff could not compete, until he thought of bringing the Ballet Stroganoff to the casino – which of course leads to Buttonhooke deciding to have ballet performances in his Casino too.

Stroganoff invites Quill to visit him, which Quill decides to do since he has left Scotland Yard, having come into a legacy. No one believes this, and he has to face questions as to what he did to have been sacked, with sympathy for having been found out.

Caryl and Simon

The day he arrives in La Bazouche there is a murder, of a vitriolic critic called Citrolo, in Stroganoff’s office. He had been going to write a damning review of the opening night of the ballet and Stroganoff, when he realizes Citrolo cannot be swayed, drugs him and dictates the review himself to the papers. He leaves Citrolo sleeping and finds him shot the next morning, whereupon he decides to muddy the waters and leave a suicide note and lots of other murder weapons. So much overkill, as it were, of course ensures that he is arrested.

But the excitable French detective who makes the arrest follows up his suggestion that Buttonhooke was also involved, and so the two casino owners find themselves in cells next door to each other, with the detective Gustave quite happy to provide creature comforts for a fee.

Quill decides he must investigate, and finds Gustave most cooperative, since he has a laid back attitude to work. So it is Quill that finds a notebook which makes it clear Citrolo is an accomplished blackmailer, and that there are lots of possible murderers, including Stroganoff’s croupier, who was crooked, Rabinovich, who was now working for Buttonhooke, a confidence trickster called Kurt Kukumber, whose prospectus for a dud gold mine was found in the office and Prince Alexis Artishok who was engaged in a deal to buy diamonds from the ballerina Dyra Dyrakova.

Stroganoff had been trying to get Dyrakova to dance for him, but having done so previously she had refused. But then to Stroganoff’s chagrin she agreed to dance for Buttonhooke. The clearly crooked Artishok had told Buttonhooke’s mistress Sadie Souse, who was not very bright, that Dyrakova possessed diamonds she was willing to sell cheap, and Sadie was determined to have them.

Quill meanwhile finds out that there was a secret passage to Stroganoff’s office, the obvious solution to what had begun as a locked room mystery, and that this was known by almost everyone apart from Stroganoff himself. And then Rabinovich is murdered, just after Gustave had released his two original suspects, leading him to blame Quill for having insisted on that and thus allowing them to kill again.

Soon afterwards Dyrakova arrives, and the town is full of posters announcing that she will appear in the casinos, elaborate posters for either one, since Stroganoff is determined that she will dance for him, and if she does not come willingly, he has devised a scheme to make her do so unwillingly. So, though Buttonhooke has her taken off to his yacht immediately she arrives at the station, Quill along with Arenskaya gets her into a launch and to Stroganoff’s casino, where she performs to tumultuous applause, not knowing for whom she is dancing.

When Quill asked her about the diamonds, she said she had sold them long ago, and that gave Quill the solution to the mystery. Rabinovich had known about this, and Artishok had killed him to prevent Sadie learning it from him, he had killed Citrolo who had recognized him for an accomplished card sharper, not a Russian prince at all. But before he is arrested, he gets away in a boat, and the police launch that pursues him is on the point of catching him up when it runs out of petrol.

Again, lots of excitement, and entertaining references – Gustave grows marrows – and if not quite as brilliant as its predecessor, Casino was certainly a delightful read.

Features

The challenge of being positive about SAARC

Published

1 day ago

2026/07/16

Sahan Weerasooriya

The RCSS forum addressed by SAARC Secretary General Ambassador Md. Golam Sarwar in progress. (Pic courtesy RCSS)

It was a few years back that a former President of Sri Lanka took it on himself to pronounce SAARC ‘dead’. Since then there have been other sections of Sri Lankan opinion that have joined the critics of SAARC and taken the solemn stance that SAARC has indeed died what may be called a natural death.

Their fatalism is understandable. SAARC has failed to meet at heads of government or state level for the past several years to take the SAARC process notably forward. Regional cooperation has more or less been only an appealing idea. No substantive concrete projects have taken off to make the idea a hard reality. ‘Inner paralysis’ seems to be SAARC’s lot. Hence the fatalism in these circles.

However, being one of the worst cash-strapped regions of the world and a teemingly populated one with people virtually left to their devices, what choices do the ‘SAARC Eight’ have other than to try their best to band together and continue with their cooperation efforts, however small they may be?

There is no escaping the mounting debt trap for many of these countries and bankrupt Sri Lanka is a glaring example, but ‘throwing in the towel’ and abandoning themselves entirely to the diktats of the strongest economies and their agencies will prove a ‘living death’ for many countries in the SAARC fold.

The gains may be meagre but giving-up on SAARC cooperation in full would prove self-defeating for the organization and South Asia. Right now, the collective intention ought to be to salvage what the region could from the tenuous cooperative efforts. Moreover, such initiatives could go some distance to generate a degree of goodwill among the Eight and help in sustaining a dialogue process.

Given this backdrop it proved ‘a stich in time’ for the Regional Centre for Strategic Studies (RCSS), Colombo, to recently host the SAARC Secretary General Ambassador Md. Golam Sarwar to a round table discussion on the unifying potential of SAARC and its future possibilities, besides other related issue areas.

Held on June 24th and moderated by RCSS Executive Director and former ambassador Ravinatha Aryasinha, the forum brought together a vibrant, wide ranging audience comprising academicians, diplomats, senior public servants, civil society activists and many others. Following the presentation by Ambassador Golam Sarwar titled, ‘Reigniting SAARC: Achievements, Challenges and the Way Ahead’, a lively Q&A followed.

The above forum could be described as an act of lighting the proverbial ‘candle’ rather than ‘cursing the darkness.’ It surely is a ‘darkness’ that could be seen as daunting considering that the region’s pivotal powers, India and Pakistan, are failing to act in a spirit of accord but are engaged in bitter finger-pointing on a number of questions of vital importance to SAARC.

On the other hand, what is the rest of the region doing to bring the above sides together? It is disappointing that to date the rest of SAARC has failed to launch a major diplomatic drive to bring peace between the feuding regional heavyweights. It needs to act without delay and establish its earnestness and this effort would need to prove SAARC’s staying power in the unfolding months and even years.

In assessing SAARC’s seeming failure local opinion in particular has failed to factor in what could be described as weak leadership. Since Sheikh Mujibur Rahman of Bangladesh, the founding father of SAARC, the region has failed to produce a visionary leader who could advance the SAARC cause with charisma and drive.

Among other reasons, weak leadership accounts considerably for the faltering and stuttering status, as it were, of SAARC. Badly needed are leaders who could go the extra mile, think less of narrow national interests and work diligently towards the collective well being of the region but SAARC’s millions of ordinary people have been made to wait in vain for leaders of such stature. Instead, they have been burdened with politicians who seem to be relishing the apparently moribund state of SAARC.

Looking back, it could be said that it was the dynamic leadership factor that led to the launching of the Non-Aligned Movement and for its sustenance for a few decades. True, it could be seen in some quarters that NAM is no more, but as in the case of SAARC, the former too has been unfortunate to be burdened over the years with politicians who lack the vision and drive to unflaggingly advance the fortunes of the South. NAM and SAARC lack the dynamism and vision of leaders of the stature of Jawaharlal Nehru, for example, to give them the required guidance and intellectual depth.

The reasons are complex for there not being among us currently political leaders with the vision and the steadfast commitment to advance the legitimate interests of the South. However, it could be stated with conviction that the majority of Southern leaders have too easily caved in to the demands of the global North and its financial agencies.

These leaders have failed to see, for instance, that the largely market economy oriented Northern governments would not view with favour a centrist economic model that attaches priority to the interests of the dis-empowered publics of the South. This realization ought to have dawned on the current government in Sri Lanka, for instance, some while ago but it has no choice but to abide by IMF dictates since economic survival at present is unthinkable without the latter’s succour.

Accordingly for SAARC this should be the time for some soul-searching. Priority needs to be attached to ending the feuding between India and Pakistan since at present the material fortunes of the region hinge largely on these regional giants giving peaceful relations among them a try. This is no easy challenge to meet but some daring, visionary diplomacy needs to take hold among the rest of SAARC.

There is some sense in SAARC bringing the peoples of the region together through programs that address their best collective interests. A meeting of minds among SAARC nations could enable SAARC and its agencies to build a region-wide people’s movement for progressive political and economic change that could in turn lead to the region’s political leaders sensitizing themselves more to the neglected needs of their publics.

However, the time is ‘now’ for the initiation of these progressive changes and the voice of SAARC well wishers would need to drown out those of their critics.