Richie Mehta’s Amal, about a Delhi rickshaw driver who becomes the oblivious pivot for high-stakes intrigue involving the cash-mad family of a deceased millionaire, began life as a short story written by Mehta’s brother Shaun. It was adapted into a short film and then into a feature, was selected as one of Canada’s Top Ten Films of 2007 and now sees theatrical release. Mehta spoke with EYE WEEKLY last fall after Amal’s premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival.

Can you talk about what it was like to work with your brother? Was there any sibling rivalry over which was the best way to realize his story?
The short was his because the story came from him. He owned the heart of the story, as it were. And I owned the right to direct the film, which meant that I had veto power.

You had veto power over his heart?
Yes. We had good checks and balances. Nothing would go without us both agreeing on it.

Had you been to India before you made Amal?
I went when I was 16. I had such a disturbing time, seeing people who were without what we take for granted [here]. It really messed me up. I said to myself “I’ll never go back to that country again. I don’t want to be a tourist.” This project gave me a reason to explore India and my relationship to it.

Did your feelings about the location change between making the short and making the feature?
The short is just the essence of something. It could have been done in Babylon, or in Russia, or wherever, because there aren’t a lot of details about the place itself. Making the feature was the difference between just visiting a place and putting roots there.

I thought that you resisted the temptation to exoticize Delhi in the way that large foreign cities often are in North American films.
I never wanted establishing shots. There’s only one really wide shot, towards the end of the film. It’s actually the last shot. And if you know the layout of Delhi, you’d know that it would be the equivalent of where Oakville is in relation to Toronto. It’s like the bottom left corner of the city. I didn’t want to show the hugeness of the city, because my main character, my rickshaw driver, he wouldn’t ever get to see it like that.

Given your protagonist’s occupation, I have to ask: had you seen Allan King’s seminal documentary Rickshaw (1960) before you made Amal?
It was one of my research materials. [King] was a guest professor at Sheridan [College] when I was there. What I loved most about Rickshaw was how matter of fact it was. The narration was very simple: here’s this guy, here’s his life, here are the facts of his life. We originally had more narration in Amal, inspired by [King’s film]. Now, it’s very sparse, because in the end, having so much voice-over seemed too bulky.

Can I ask what you’re working on next?
[When Amal was finished] I took a small group of people into the desert and shot a feature that was wildly experimental. We had a 25-page script for a 90-minute movie. In Amal, the narrative is so tight, everything is so cause and effect. We had to hit everything really precisely. I needed to come up with something loose that I could just get out of my system.