Ever since Azhagarsamiyin Kuthirai, Easwar has consistently brought Tamil Nadu’s lush rural landscapes to life with startling realism. His work feels rooted, almost spiritual in its groundedness. Yes, there’s a consistency in his visual language, but never at the cost of freshness. In fact, it often makes you reflect on the landscapes we’ve overlooked or forgotten. Take Merku Thodarchi Malai, for instance, the film didn’t just document life in the region, it allowed nature to speak its own story.

Speaking of nature, Easwar himself admits that it’s the everyday, the ordinary, that fuels his artistry. From the swaying of a leaf to an ordinary man crossing a road, his eye captures beauty without spectacle.

In Vaazhai, he gracefully interpreted Mari Selvaraj’s deeply personal narrative, bringing a poetic stillness to a biographical film. And at the 2025 Provoke Awards, we did our part by honouring the man behind the lens, the one who makes us feel the soil of our land through the screen. But we didn’t stop at the award. We held him back for a candid chat — and he obliged, offering a few more pearls of wisdom in that distinctly deep, resonant voice of his. And also explained a few creative choices that left us scratching our heads.

From Azhagarsaamiyin Kuthirai to Vaazhai, your filmography reflects a thoughtful, selective approach. Though you’ve worked on relatively fewer projects, each stands out for its timeless quality and strong political undertones, often leaning towards the left. What drives your script choices? Is there a specific philosophy or belief system that guides you?
I don’t follow a fixed philosophy when it comes to choosing scripts. If a good story comes my way, I do it and I’ve been fortunate to receive such scripts. What draws me in is a blend of strong emotion and a meaningful social message. Most of my work has leaned toward life-oriented narratives, but they’ve also found their place within the commercial space. Veera Dheera Sooran, for instance, is very much a commercial film in my view. As you mentioned, films like Azhagarsamiyin Kuthirai, Merku Thodarchi Malai, Maamannan, Karnan, and even Nanpakal Nerathu Mayakkam, each of them reflects a slice of life. I consider every one of these scripts a blessing

You’ve collaborated with acclaimed filmmakers like Mari Selvaraj, Gautham Vasudev Menon, and Ram. Is there a director you’ve always dreamed of working with — someone still on your wishlist?
I wouldn’t say I have ‘dream directors’ as such. I genuinely want to work with every filmmaker. I don’t have any specific aspirations tied to one person because each director creates a unique world, and for me, stepping into that world is itself a big experience. That said, if I were to name someone I’ve always looked up to, it would be Bharathiraja sir. I say this because he brought a real shift in Tamil cinema. He carved a path for people like me someone who saw cinema through the lens of life. He introduced a new dimension in storytelling, showing us how life and cinema can merge. That’s someone I deeply admire.

In a recent interview, you spoke about the immense effort it took to capture even a seemingly simple outdoor shot in Veera Dheera Sooran— something that clearly stems from a deep love for cinema and the camera. What or who first inspired you to pursue cinematography?
There are many things that have inspired me and drawn me toward cinema — and it’s not limited to filmmakers or actors. Cinematographers have moved me just as much. But beyond that, inspiration comes from life itself — from nature, from the world around us, and often from the most ordinary people. Take, for example, a man you see on the roadside. You wonder — where was he before this moment? Where is he going next? Maybe he’s someone society has failed. Maybe he’s riding a tri-cycle. Maybe he’s a person with a disability, struggling just to cross the road. You start to think about how his day might unfold… what his life has been. These everyday moments and silent struggles — they move me. For me, inspiration doesn’t always come from the technical side of cinema. Sometimes, it’s far beyond that.

Vaazhai is a poetically tragic film. While it begins with light-hearted moments and ends on a heart-wrenching note, there’s a lingering sense of melancholy throughout. Yet, the visuals remain vibrant and full of life. What was the thought process behind this seemingly contradictory choice in visual tone?
In life, every individual’s utmost importance is happiness. Everyone longs to be happy. It’s just that circumstances and situations shape how that happiness unfolds or is interrupted. If you look at the script, it’s based on a true story. In that, Director Mari Selvaraj has beautifully brought in elements from his own lived experiences. Our work was to explore how much cinematic experience we could build around that reality. Setbacks and sorrow, they are temporary, fleeting emotions. You can’t dwell on them throughout a film. So that’s the approach we took to stay rooted in truth, but still bring in the power of cinema.

Before you begin filming, what kind of discussions do you usually have with the director about the film’s visual language — such as the colour palette, tone, and overall cinematic style?
It really varies from director to director. Each one has a different approach to the script. Our conversations usually revolve around how they envision translating the story to screen and how we can elevate the script through filmmaking. It’s about understanding their perspective and finding ways to enhance the narrative together.

Nanpakal Nerathu Mayakkam is a visually distinct cinematic experience. One striking aspect was the minimal use of close-ups — with just two in the entire film — while the rest unfolded through wide shots. Especially with a performer like Mammootty on screen, that’s a bold and deliberate choice. What was the idea behind this visual decision?
In the case of Nanpakal Nerathu Mayakkam, the narrative carries a sense of mystery — and it was designed to feel as though a layperson is witnessing the events as they unfold. That’s why the film primarily uses wide and mid-wide shots — to maintain a sense of distance and realism. Close-ups were used very selectively, especially for the character James, during his transformation into Sundaram. There’s a particular moment where he looks into the mirror and begins to realize what’s happening — that he’s not who he thinks he is. That moment needed the intimacy of a close-up to really land emotionally. Until then, we held back on close-ups deliberately to preserve that impact.

– By Shahul Hameed