• Shivendra Singh Dungarpur on restoring ‘Gehenu Lamai’ and preserving the legacy of Lankan film

In May this year, at the Cannes Film Festival, the Sri Lankan flag flew high once again. But this time, it wasn’t for a new film. It was for a restoration — a rebirth of ‘Gehenu Lamai’ (1978), the debut feature of Sri Lanka’s first woman director, Sumitra Peries. 

The restored film, presented under the Cannes Classics section, marked a landmark moment for both Sri Lankan and South Asian cinema. It also reflected the quiet but determined work of filmmaker and India’s Film Heritage Foundation (FHF) Founder Shivendra Singh Dungarpur, who led the restoration with support from the Lester James Peries and Sumitra Peries Foundation, the National Film Corporation of Sri Lanka (NFC), and the French Government.

For Shivendra, the restoration of ‘Gehenu Lamai’ was personal, emotional, and symbolic — an act of homage, not just to Sumitra Peries, but to South Asia’s shared cinematic heritage as well.

During a recent visit to Sri Lanka as part of a film festival held by France-India-Sri Lanka Cine Heritage (FISCH) organised by the FHF and the Embassy of France to Sri Lanka and the Maldives, Shivendra sat down with The Sunday Morning to offer insight into the process of restoring ‘Gehenu Lamai’ and what led him here. 

A childhood steeped in cinema

“My earliest fascination with films began as a child,” Shivendra recalled. “My grandfather had a projectionist who came every evening on his bicycle. We’d run into the verandah room where a glass cupboard held cans of film — Chaplin reels, home movies. Every night we’d watch something together.”

That nightly ritual of spools and flickering light shaped a lifelong love for film. At school, he was already certain of his path. Though academically strong — “second in India,” he noted with a laugh — he rejected the family’s wish for him to pursue law and instead set his sights on cinema.

A turning point came when he worked with poet-filmmaker Gulzar, who encouraged him to apply to the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII), then the country’s only formal film school. 

“FTII was transformative. I was exposed to world cinema for the first time — Kurosawa, Bergman, Ray — and also to Sri Lankan filmmakers like Lester James Peries, who was deeply respected at the institute thanks to P.K. Nair and the National Film Archive of India,” he said.

That early exposure planted a seed. Years later, when Shivendra founded the FHF, he would carry that cross-border sense of kinship into his preservation work.

A connection with the Peries legacy

After graduating, Shivendra built a prolific career in advertising, directing over 1,500 commercials. “I was constantly coming to Sri Lanka to shoot,” he recalled. “We worked with Ravindra Randeniya, and through him, I met Lester and Sumitra. I still remember their home — the small garden, cane chairs, the corridor. It was a very special space.”

That first meeting grew into a friendship grounded in mutual respect. Years later, when he made ‘Celluloid Man’ (2012) — his documentary on Nair and India’s cinematic heritage — he included interviews with Lester.

When Lester passed away, Sumitra invited Shivendra to deliver the first Lester James Peries Memorial Lecture at the NFC. “I was very honoured,” he said. “After the lecture, she gave me DVDs of five of her films, including ‘Gehenu Lamai.’ I watched it and was absolutely moved.”

It was a film that stayed with him — for its quiet strength, its nuanced critique of class and gender, and its cinematic purity. “I knew then that someday I wanted to do something for Sumitra,” he said.

Building a bridge between India and Sri Lanka

The Film Heritage Foundation was born out of Shivendra’s conviction that “a nation that doesn’t preserve its cinema loses its memory”. Founded in 2014, it has since become South Asia’s leading organisation for film preservation and archiving.

The foundation’s reach into Sri Lanka began through a chance meeting with archivist Damith Fonseka, who attended one of the FHF’s first film restoration workshops in Mumbai. 

“He told me he wanted to restore Gamini Fonseka’s films and that there was no proper archive in Sri Lanka,” Shivendra recalled. “That conversation led to what we called a rescue mission.”

With support from the International Federation of Film Archives (FIAF), the team — which included FIAF Technical Director David Walsh — travelled to Colombo to inspect deteriorating film cans stored at the NFC. “We opened the cans and saw how fragile the situation was,” Shivendra said. “That’s when we knew we had to help Sri Lanka build its film heritage capacity.”

Since then, the foundation’s workshops have trained dozens of Sri Lankan archivists. “This year marks our eighth workshop,” Shivendra said. “It’s been wonderful to see Sri Lankan professionals become part of this global preservation movement.”

Choosing ‘Gehenu Lamai’

When the French Government proposed a regional preservation grant, Shivendra immediately thought of Sri Lanka. “I told them I’d like to restore a Sri Lankan film, and that it must be ‘Gehenu Lamai,’” he said. “I owed that to Sumitra.”

‘Gehenu Lamai’ was not only Sri Lanka’s first film directed by a woman but also a landmark in South Asian feminist cinema. Released in 1978, it told the story of two sisters, Kusum and Soma, who confront love, class, and social hypocrisy. For many Sri Lankans, it was the first time women’s inner lives had been portrayed with such empathy.

“When you see the film, you realise nothing has changed,” Shivendra said. “What she was saying then — about women’s choices, class, and dignity — remains deeply relevant. The power of her imagery and the humanity in her storytelling are astonishing.”

He also marvelled at the film’s technical finesse. “The black-and-white quality was extraordinary. The compositions, the camera work — Sumitra and her cinematographer M.S. Ananda were bold. They used handheld shots and broke traditional structures.”

Under the FISCH project, ‘Gehenu Lamai’ became the first Sri Lankan film to undergo full restoration through the Bologna-based L’Immagine Ritrovata laboratory — the world’s leading facility for film restoration.

Bringing a film back from the dead

Restoration, Shivendra explained, began with whatever material survives. “When you shoot on film, the negative is the mother — the most precious thing. The dupe negative is a copy, and in this case, that’s all that survived. The original negative was lost.”

The team also sourced two 35 mm release prints from the NFC. “All three elements were in bad shape — torn sprockets, warping, and emulsion damage. The sound was nearly gone. Some sections were inaudible. For a while, we weren’t even sure it could be saved.”

Working with the Bologna lab, the team combined the best parts of each print, cleaning frame by frame. “Every scratch, every tear was digitally repaired,” Shivendra said. “We scanned the material using both wet-gate and dry-gate methods, then went into digital restoration.”

Respect for the filmmaker’s intent guided every decision. “You can’t make it better than what the director envisioned,” he said. “You must wear their shoes. Restoration is like restoring a painting. If van Gogh painted sunflowers yellow, you can’t make them blue.”

The team worked to preserve the natural grain of the film and the texture of its black-and-white imagery. Sound restoration proved equally complex, with portions reconstructed from surviving prints.

“The film was in tatters,” Shivendra said. “When we finally saw it come alive again, it was almost like watching someone walk out of a coffin. That’s how powerful restoration can be.”

Why preservation matters

For Shivendra, ‘Gehenu Lamai’ is not just a restored film but a lesson for the region. “Every country in South Asia faces the same problem — heat, humidity, neglect,” he said. “Films are fragile. They need climate control, proper storage, and regular care. But too often, archives are underfunded or poorly maintained.”

He compared preserving film to raising a child. “When a child is born, you look after it, comfort it, protect it. Films need the same attention. You must store them carefully, check their condition, and intervene before they decay.”

He believes restoration must be treated as an act of devotion, not a business. “People often ask how much money it makes. That’s the wrong question. You restore because you want to revive art, history, and culture. You’re giving a second life to something sacred.”

The restoration of ‘Gehenu Lamai’ represents a growing movement to protect the shared cinematic memory of South Asia. “A lot of Sri Lankan films were processed in Chennai,” Shivendra explained. “There’s always been an interrelationship between our industries. The stories, techniques, even the film stock we used — they are all interconnected. Preserving them together honours that shared heritage.”

He believes countries in the region must work together through networks like FISCH. “This collaboration with France, India, and Sri Lanka is a model. It shows what’s possible when governments, archives, and filmmakers align.”

Today, the restored ‘Gehenu Lamai’ continues to travel the world. After Cannes, it was screened at the London Film Festival, Cinémathèque Française, and the Kolkata International Film Festival, with more international showings planned. The restored copy will eventually be housed at Sri Lanka’s National Archives, with educational screenings supported by the French Embassy.

“Everywhere it’s been shown, the response has been incredible,” Shivendra said. “Full houses, with young audiences rediscovering Sumitra’s work. It’s given a whole new generation access to her vision.”

He hopes the film’s success will inspire others in Sri Lanka to preserve their heritage. “This is not the end. It’s a beginning. I hope it makes producers, studios, and governments realise that their archives are treasures, not relics.”

The next phase of the FISCH initiative will continue focusing on Sri Lankan and South Asian film preservation, with workshops and new restoration projects planned for later this year.

Keeping memory alive

For Shivendra, this restoration was one of the most fulfilling projects of his life. “I’ve restored many films, but none have made me this happy,” he said. “It felt like fulfilling a promise to Sumitra, and to the women and men who built South Asian cinema.”

He paused, adding: “When a film is restored, you don’t just bring back the past. You give it a future. ‘Gehenu Lamai’ reminds us of what we stand to lose if we don’t protect our stories.”