Pine Cone (2023)Pine Cone is the new movie by gay filmmaker Onir, who is one of the foremost LGBTQIA+ voices in India. Spanning three decades, it follows a young director named Sid (Vidur Sethi), who follows his cinematic passions while also falling in love against the backdrop of India’s changing attitudes towards homosexuality.
It’s told in three parts in reverse chronology, with each chapter set around a significant moment for queer rights in India. In 1999 – the year of the country’s first gay pride parade in the city of Kolkata – Sid is a teen, grappling with the feelings of first love. In 2009, the Delhi High Court made the landmark decision to decriminalise homosexuality – a ruling that would be overturned just a few years later, in 2012. When we meet Sid as a young adult here, he falls in love with a closeted man who eventually betrays him.
The third chapter (first in the film) is set in 2019, a year after the Supreme Court of India voted to once again decriminalise homosexuality, a time when Sid, after decades of heartbreak, finds himself afraid to let love in, even after spending a passionate night with the handsome Rehan (Sahib Verma).
Pine Cone draws a lot from your personal life. At the same time, many queer people would be able to relate to it as the taboo surrounding homosexuality has affected many queer lives. Making this film must have felt cathartic…
Absolutely. Pine Cone is about an individual’s journey into visibility and forgiveness but with the backdrop of what is happening around queer discourse legally and socially in India. In 1999, the discourse itself was so little, and there was much more shame attached to being queer because, be it in cinema or any other cultural medium, our representation was almost negligible. So, how does a young teenager cope with sexual identity when there is absolutely no discourse? In the film, this results in a huge amount of shame, to the extent that Sid’s teenage lover refuses to even acknowledge what transpired between them and negates his homosexual feelings.
By 2009, the discourse in public spaces had opened up, and queer people were connecting with each other through chat rooms and going out to explore their sexualities. The 2009 Delhi High Court verdict was a huge step first, and that reflects in the overall atmosphere as we see Sid being openly gay. He’s constantly seeking a gay companion, but at the same time, he also understands that everyone isn’t able to deal with social pressures. But he’s constantly pushing for visibility. Eventually, when he experiences betrayal from his lover, he starts building walls around himself and becomes cynical about love. This film is about the journey of realising that sometimes you need to be kinder to yourself. You need to forgive, move on in life, and not hold on to things. And it’s also about our refusal to be invisible and proudly wearing our identity on our sleeves.
When was the first time you felt represented in the cinema? Do you have a favourite queer filmmaker?
I think the first queer film that inspired me, and which also finds mention in Pine Cone, is My Beautiful Laundrette (1985), because that was the first film I saw in which queerness was explicitly visible. It was the first time I felt represented and could see my identity without shame. I’ve learned a lot from the great masters of world cinema and Bengali cinema back home. The one filmmaker who has inspired me the most is Pedro Almodóvar, and not just because of his queer content, but I also love the way he infuses surrealism. Every year, we get to see some wonderful queer films being made across the world, which is important because you have different kinds of stories being told.
Last year, in October, the Supreme Court of India refused to legalise same-sex marriages. What is the point of decriminalising homosexuality then?
It was extremely disappointing. For me, this whole justification that society is not ready feels regressive. I’ve spent an entire lifetime to finally see homosexuality decriminalised, but I’m still being told that I have to wait because society is not as evolved as us. It’s almost like the straight world is incapable of empathy, and for their backwardness and narrow-mindedness, we have to suffer in a country where we are supposed to be equal citizens. It just doesn’t make any sense why any minority should suffer because the majority is incapable of rising above their thought process. What are we, then, a democracy for?
When it comes to queer content, we’ve just taken baby steps in India. What progressive steps could help the cause of queer cinema?
I think there’s a lot more happening now, but still, there are challenges aplenty. For instance, when I approach streaming platforms, very often I’m told that we are doing one gay story, and I have no idea what that means. These are just stories. So, why are we reduced to this number game? Despite being the world’s largest filmmaking country, not even 1% of our films tackle queer themes, and most of the films are made with a very heteronormative gaze. It’s all about them accepting us and fitting us into their society. That’s why, in Pine Cone, I’ve consciously avoided including heterosexual, cisgendered men. There are only gay and female characters, because I’ve seen women also fight the same patriarchy and are overall better allies. This film is not about seeking acceptance. It shows that Sid is living his life, and all the other gay characters are fighting within because of social norms. I’m tired of films showing queer characters wanting to fit into the mainstream.
I’ve lived my life on my own terms, in spite of all the hurdles, and I want to see that represented. I want to see happy endings, because most queer films end in despair, but our lives aren’t so miserable! Of course, we go through loss and pain, but there is joy and pride in our lives too. If you attend the KASHISH Pride Film Festival in Mumbai and watch the short films made by queer filmmakers, you can immediately tell the difference in their texture and the storytelling approach. That’s why it is more important to have queer people tell our stories, as the queer gaze is different and needs to be empowered.