“The Bonsoir Diaries” by Kumar de Silva is a cocktail of chapters, bursting at their seams with pithy asides, a trail of faux pas, and tit-bits from behind the scenes, marinated with anecdotes and drizzled with nostalgia, revealing everything you never saw on your favourite television show…from the ‘80s through the ‘90s into 2000.
Ah, Lester James and Sumitra Peries! One of my favourite subjects and a couple very close to my heart…so much so that the duo has been the most featured Sri Lankans on the programme during my 15-year tenure with Bonsoir.
The Lester-Sumitra story is one that began in France when he took Rekawa (The Line of Destiny) to the 1956 Cannes Film Festival, and she was a 21-year-old student discovering multi-dimensional Paree. It was a chance encounter at the residence of Ceylon’s then Chargé d’Affaires to France Vernon Mendis and wife Paddy.
Their marriage, eight years later, at All Saints Church in Borella on 19 June 1964, resulted in the fertile fusion of two aesthetic and creative cinemate sensibilities. From there on, their respective lines of destiny merged. Their subsequent visits to France were numerous, their ties with the country and her people lasting. The rest is a part of Sri Lanka’s film history.
In a rare joint honour , the Deauville Film Festival presented Dr. and Mrs. Peries the prestigious Golden Lotus Award to each of them in 2001 “in recognition of their contribution to Asian cinema”.
It was thus startlingly coincidental (and indeed their own line of destiny) that 39 years later, LJP and Sumi should return to Paris – she as H.E. l’Ambassadeur and he as S.H.E. (Spouse of Her Excellency – as LJP deliberately chose to call himself).
It was also thus understandable that Yasmin and I were thrilled when President Kumaratunga invited Mrs. Peries to be our envoy to France. It called for celebration and the making of a “Bonsoir Sumitra Peries Special”.
Weeks prior to assuming office, Madaaame Pay Rees (as the French call and continue to call her) took refresher classes. Although both Francophone and Francophile, the Ambassador Designate, felt the need to brush up her français. Tutoring her was Danielle, wife of Gerard Gutle, the then French Cultural Counsellor at the French Embassy in Colombo.
And so one morning, the French Embassy’s DPL Peugeot unloaded all of us at No. 24, (then) Dickman’s Road. Prior experience alerted me that the bane of recording television interviews at No. 24 was the unholy threesome – the telephone, the dogs, and the gate. We successfully got the dogs tied at the back of the house and occupied with marrow bones.
We stationed a domestic at the (padlocked) gate and brainwashed him into innocently saying: “Gedera nehe. Koheda gihin. Danne nehe (not at home. Gone somewhere. Don’t know where).” He did this to perfection and this was so helpful.
Mrs. Peries is at her “comfortable-st” best in her long flowing kaftan and her feet stuck up on the nearest stool. The new “Ambassadeur”, however, had to project a different image in keeping with the new protocol. So there was Surangani Wijayawickrema, a close friend and colleague of the Perieses and my distant relative from Ambalangoda, who handled Madaaame’s hair, makeup, and saree dressing to perfection.
That exercise alone took about an hour and a half! Every hair was sprayed into place. Every pleat pinned into alignment. Surangani helpfully hovered around with tissues at hand, lest the heat of our cameras made Madaaame Ambassadeur sweaty.
The questions were intentionally not sent in advance. I wanted a fresh and spontaneous response. The camera rolled and Madaaame batted on eloquently, switching from English to French and vice versa with ease.
She was enjoying herself journeying down memory lane – to Paris, to the left bank, to the south of France, to her brother Kuru’s boat, to the vineyards, to the Lumière Brothers, to the Cinemathèque Française…Madaaame was also happy with an undisturbed interview.
At the end of it all, LJP, in his customary quizzical manner, said: “Strange this blessed phone didn’t ring even once during the interview.”
I replied: “Yes, Mr. Peries, how lucky we were.”
He nodded in approval. Madaaame nodded in relief. What they didn’t know was that the receiver was off the hook and covered with old newspapers all the time.
The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication.
