I first worked for Merchant Ivory Productions (MIP) as a runner on Jefferson in Paris in 1994; my first day on a film set was the flight of the Montgolfier brothers at Versailles. I returned to its offices in 1997 and from 2000 to 2003, between university and film school. Ismail Merchant, screenwriter Ruth Prawer Jhabvala and Jim Ivory mentored and supported me through my master’s and beyond; they were my real film school.
Contrary to the portrait painted by Ryan Gilbey’s account of Stephen Soucy’s film, when I joined, they were not fractured and chaotic (‘I got you an Oscar. Why do I need to pay you?’ The secret shocking truth about Merchant Ivory, 12 March). Jim was supportive of Ismail’s directing, and, differences aside, everyone knew they were together, supported by Ruth and her husband, Cyrus. Their shared home in Claverack was a personal and creative sanctuary. Many of us in the house witnessed the routine and friendship that helped them create often radical films.
As a brown woman trying to get into film 30 years ago, I felt safe and nurtured at Merchant Ivory. I saw Ismail work to finance films in those years and it wasn’t black magic but hard graft. The details are in their archives. Guinness Mahon, Mo Ibrahim and Disney are part of the story. Wresting The Golden Bowl back from Miramax is another chapter.
Soucy’s documentary is one version of the Merchant Ivory story, giving perhaps too much weight to Paul Bradley’s account of production. It lacks interviews from most of MIP’s Indian collaborators (barring Madhur Jaffrey). Kazuo Ishiguro is also missing. The film features racialising, Orientalist interviews that call Ismail a “conman” with a “bazaar mentality”. Gilbey, in his piece, inscribes this further, underscoring the conservatism of Ismail’s Muslim family. MIP’s work was always about transcending cultural stereotypes that might flatten us. Hanging on to their legacy means seeing through a queer and intersectional lens.
Nasheed Qamar Faruqi
Cambridge
• My friend Kit Hesketh-Harvey, the brilliant lyricist, librettist and cabaret performer who died too young last year, and who wrote the script of Maurice, told me that he once raised the matter of a fee with Ismail Merchant.
“I will pay you with something much more valuable than money. I will teach you how to cook.”
A promise that was, of course, never fulfilled. Notwithstanding, Kit remained a lifelong friend and admirer of James Ivory.
Mark Redhead
London
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