1942 Nandanar to 2024 Nandan

Published in Fipresci E-Cine India Apr-June 2025

Link to the article 1942 Nandanar to 2024 Nandan by Latha Rajasekar

Darwinism or the social orders associated with eternal laws, either of the two, or a combination of both, seems to have enabled the human species to evolve over the hundreds and thousands of years on the face of this planet. If ‘exploitation’ is an outcome of ‘competition’ in the natural selection process, caste has got to be the human-made hierarchical structure, to befit the ‘survival of the fittest’ theory of Darwin.

A mere ‘mention’, is all the religiously pious ‘Nandanar’ gets in the 8^th century, that quotes his longing to visit Chidhambaram’s Shiva temple. 300 odd years later, he gets a whole stanza for himself, making him to be a leather worker from a lower-strata (Pulayar). By then the record states he managed to visit the Shiva temple that he had longed to visit and was even greeted by thousands of temple priests.

The Saint’s tale, which roughly dates back to more than 1300 years, gets newer accounts added to his life in a 164-year-old text. He now is said to be a ‘bonded agricultural labour’ Paraiyar and a singer like many others in that community. This version of the saint’s story features exploitation of an Aboriginal slave by his Brahminical landlord. The 1942 film ‘Nandanar’ was adapted on this particular text and speaks the ordeals of a Bakth, a slave, visiting the temple of his choice, let alone enter into, for Paraiyar were categorized untouchable, then.

Is history, a collection of facts or mere narratives? Do the human agency, the historians, interpret and record only what they personally deem worthy? Is history all about perspectives and actions of who actually is recording the final analysis? Is history created, especially by the victors? Or does history create victors?  I ended the debate within – ‘History is not (just) an account of what happened, but how strong the historian’s memory is to inquire, interpret, analyse and assumingly record the unbiased perspective of his’.

There are many versions of this saint’s story, but this one was the last of the pre-independence versions and it is based on the 1861 text Nandanar Charitam, by poet Gopalakrishna Bharati, a protestor from a brahmin origin. If the century old tale addresses the upper caste’s impositions on a low born, it’s only fair to interpret that the situation would have been bleak before a thousand years when the saint actually had lived. During his lifetime in the 5^th century, the saint must have taken discrimination as the ‘order of the day’ that he lived in. Hence, the movie doesn’t document any protests or rebels on discrimination. It neither does cringe about untouchability. The movie focuses on ‘egalitarianism’, intended to make spirituality accessible for the marginalized.

The rigid caste system impacted many million lives. The Constitution was thrusted with an ‘Untouchability Act’ in 1955, later renamed as ‘Protection of Civil Rights Act, to cover wider discriminatory practices. While the Indian Constitution attempted to ‘stall’ the natural selection process, the Southerners had motioned attempts to reverse evil torments on mankind, through human movements in the name of Bakthi (Devotion). From the Saivite’s Nayanmars and the Vaishnavite’s Azhwars in the medieval times, to Swami Vivekananda a hundred odd years ago, the Bakti movement flourished. The atheist self-respect anti-brahmin movements, rose parallelly and the likes of Periyar, fought the natural selection in their own retaliating terms.

Nandan, our untouchable hero saint, is one among the 63 Nayanmars, who are worshiped by Saivites till date. The 1942 ‘Nandanar’ opera does touch upon casteism and also the core principles of social justice, equality and of course the spiritual liberation - ‘God is one for all’, but very subtly. In the age of constant religious animosity as now, the movie’s perspective on the need for social justice for the oppressed, to let them pray to the God whom they desire, was quite disturbing. Casteism did impose unimaginable restrictions, yeah. But to visually see the facet of oppression, the fact that Lord Shiva belonged to the Brahminical spectrum and the lower strata Hindus weren’t allowed to utter Shiva’s name, was particularly aching.

A friend playfully kept boasting Vishnu is mightier than Shiva and it hurt my sentiments as I belonged to Shiva’s lineage and she Vishnu’s. However, this pain of mine is nowhere near the pain of someone who is refrained from praying to the God of his choice. It is deeply agonising when one’s love is questioned and banned, be it the love for another human or for the almighty himself.

The opera’s lead actor M. M. Dhandapani Desigar, a Carnatic singer, plays Nandan, who later is hailed as ‘Nandanar’, a suffix that implies respect in the Tamil Language. (A small yet a significantly associated trivia - A person from a particular marginalized community in Tamil is called, Paraiyan, the singular form, and the plural form being ‘Paraiyar’. But the vernacular usage of the word ‘Paraiyan’, has been seen as a purposeful demeaning call, lacking respect. It has been widely criticized and the Madras Legislative Council as early as 1914, has replaced the word with more respectful terms, ‘Adi Dravidar’). Nandan educates his people not to fall prey for the superstitious practices, as conmen were weaponizing their ignorance. He is seen to be propagating his fellow men to pray to Lord Shiva, over their deity Karuppuswamy. He preaches, no God would ever require animal sacrifice from humans, as every living being is a life that matters to God.

As a viewer, I was left to contemplate, if these scenarios played out in a movie now, would be categorized as stepping to the boundaries of a civilian’s freedom of worship. If we are arguing that it is the right of an individual to worship a God of his choice, was Nandan discriminating his own people, for the ‘calling’ that he had from Lord Shiva? He looking down on his own God, Kula Deivam, Family Deity Karuppusamy and considering Shiva to be a superior God, does it kind of justify the Brahmins discriminating the lower strata?

Nandan pleadingly sings an appeal to his landlord to fulfil his calling to visit Chidambaram’s Shiva temple. His plea bleeds one’s heart, irrespective of whether one is a believer or not, for all that the poor man asked was, to visit a temple. One is left with a dilemma whether to sympathize the hero with regards to his slavery, untouchability or the discrimination he is subjected to. Nandan addresses his Brahmin landlord ‘Aande’, which I presume is short for ‘Andavane’, meaning a ruler or the almighty lord. The very sound of the word, gives an unrest.

Dandapani Desigar’s voice and the colloquial words in his singing, is sure to hook the audience. His perseverance in persuading his landlord to grant him permission to visit the temple, his acceptance of slavery, his respect for his master, the actor essentially seems to have gotten in to the skin of the character. The profound calmness as he sings in praise of Lord Nataraja and his psychological state, he is just immersed in a sea of devotion. His grave anxiety when his landlord gives him an unachievable target of ploughing and reaping vast acres of land, before he could visit Chidambaram, the Carnatic singer is at par with those versatile actors of his time and much later.

If the fifty-year short life of mine had witnessed drastic changes in these oppressive scenarios, we as a society have sure taken gigantic leaps in the oppression front. The lengthy passage for manual scavenging parallelly behind my mom’s house in the ‘Agraharam street’, has been a part of my childhood days. The unused passage still exists with a locked door in my mom’s backyard, in testimony to those dark days of classed and casteist inequalities in sanitation work. With regular articles about men dying during sewer works, questions if their ordeals would ever be over.

The highly debated climax, for which the actor had apparently apologized to the Dalit workers of KGF back then, is even more worrisome when figured in current scenario. Nandan, with the divine interference by Lord Shiva himself, makes possible the impossible of reaping the forty acres of land overnight, and is granted a visit to Chidambaram Temple. Since untouchables were not permitted inside, Lord Shiva interferes in the dreams of the temple priests asking them to receive Nandan into the temple. But when one of the priests suggests he ‘fire bathes’ in a pyre to prove his purity, Nandan readily agrees to do so. And he emerges unharmed and enters the temple to become one with Lord Nataraja.

What sticks out as a sore thumb is that he comes out, tuff haired, scared thread bearing, ashes smeared, Brahmin. The author Bharathi, a crusader for Dalit rights, apparently saw the climax as a salvation to the untouchables. And so does the ‘Shri Nandanar Guru Pooja’ an annual ceremony at Sivalokanathar Temple in Tirupunkur, where the untouchables are made to wear the scared thread, inferring they become equal to the superior Brahmin.

A catastrophically miscalculated move I thought. In the name of challenging caste hierarchy, it actually violates and in fact confuses the rights of the masses. But given the time frame of the movie in the mid 40’s the intention of the film should have been to spiritually empower the lower strata. However, the word ‘purification’ reinforces the hierarchical phenomena and fails to question the legitimacy of banning the marginalised to enter the Temple complex.

Moving on to the 2024 version of the story in a contemporary set up in ‘Nandhan’, it is the post climax compilation of real-life panchayat heads, is where the soul of the movie lies. The movie addresses the plight of the backward class candidates who contest for the village panchayat chairman posts in areas where the government designates posts for the Dalits. The real-life panchayat heads from these reserved categories, describe their trauma in the hands of the village’s upper strata. Discrimination seems to be imprinted in people’s DNA.

Interestingly, the lead characters, Nandan in 1942 and Ambedkumar in 2024, both do not fight discriminations, and bow it down as the order of life. They both sustain trauma, both mental and physical but persevere to attain what they intended to. The former becomes one with his Lord Shiva, the later gets to sit in the chair as a panchayat head and sign away orders. While the former boasts an illusionary equality of a Dalit attaining superiority in becoming a Brahmin, the later ends with a practical note that contradicts the words of our father of constitution. ‘Political upliftment through a separate electorate and reservations for marginalized groups is considered essential for their economic and social progress’, were the words of Dr. Ambedkar.  But in real life, coming to power doesn’t seem to solve their agony, it rather seems to be increasing the opportunities to be hurled at, as one is not let to even lift his head up, let alone holding his head high, despite becoming a village chairman.

The testimonies of real-life chairmen from the reserved political positions, narrates a grim reality, shaking the very foundation of our country. The heads of gram panchayats, sarpanch, called as Oor-Aatchi Mandra Thalaivar in Tamil, with their designations and panchayat names boldly displayed on screen, narrate their experiences ranging from physical assault, to being forbidden to enter the newly build panchayat office complex, given ultimatum to sign papers, and banned from even sitting in the chair at the panchayat office. They being squashed by the village upper strata and bureaucrats turning a blind eye, is heart wrenching.

Movies of the past cannot stay relevant to the evolved contemporary cultural values, due to constantly changing social norms, yes. The shift in education, gender roles and globalization, alters our outlook on life. Movies are pretty much like scriptures, documenting the mind sets of people of its era. What is alarming is, irrespective of technological advancements and diversified thought processes, the society’s rate of progress, proves insignificant. From the 5^th century saint to the 21^st century panchayat head from the lower strata are made to fight Darwin’s ‘natural selection’. A struggle to decimate the discriminatory past and present from being carried forward to the future, indeed.

Article 15, Prohibition of Discrimination, passed in 1948 had three amendments made to it and the last one being in 2019, to ensure equal opportunities to the economically weaker sections. And the Article 17 Abolition of Untouchability of 1949 seems to have no implication whatsoever at ground level, when we hear to these brave testimonies in the 2024 movie, Nandhan.

Historical narratives of many more ‘fire baths’ and plentiful ‘constitutional amendments’ might cross our paths int the coming eras. But it seems these kinds of prejudices may never wear off. Maybe a miraculous genetic mutation could embed compassion and benevolence as our innate qualities and save the world.

A society where social, moral and political values are in perfect balance, is a utopian vision, meaning no such land exist. Harmony and coexistence are the bare minimum requirement to attain a just and equal environment. Barrage of news involving prohibition of entry in to temples, leaves one in despair, the recent one being on the 23^rd April 2025. ‘Dalits denied entry to Shri Maha Mariamman temple festival in Tamilnadu’s Namakkal district’. What is more regressive is the Dalits were asked to build their own temple. ‘Nandanar to Nadhan’ have failed to impart any learning, apparently. Officials did intervene, asserting that the temple was under the government run Hindu Religion & Charitable Endowment department and hence all Hindus have ‘rights’ to pray there.

Mustering up hope in the face of adversities is the sole option, to reassure ourselves. If collectively strived for, in consistent steps, the outcome might become significantly favorable, someday, somewhere, for some generation.

Latha Rajasekar

I hail from Salem, Tamil Nadu. I am a movie blogger, writing predominantly on South Indian language films. FTII’s Film Critic course and Film Appreciation courses online, helped me hone my skills in appreciating films and writing about my movie experience.

Reference:

Link to the news article on Dalits denied entry into the temple in Namakkal District, TamilNadu, India. https://www.indiatoday.in/india/tamil-nadu/story/tamil-nadu-dalits-caste-hindus-sri-maha-mariamman-temple-festival-namakkal-2713389-2025-04-23

 

 

Ronth

2025, Malayalam, Theatrical release, 8.2/10 IMDB, Directed by Shahi Kabir

 Published in Baradwaj Rangan's blog - https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2025/06/22/readers-write-in-818-ronth-the-mind-patroller/

An intelligent plot-driven cop tale, that gradually transforms character-driven, engulfing the viewers through its gripping narrative and mindful acting. A novel premise, ironically feels very familiar, as it is tightly packed with acquainted sub plots from our everyday news-paper articles. But the screenplay effortlessly transcends the film to newer heights, as the lead men's past trauma, changes the viewer's notion about these two characters, only a while before the duo is left stranded helpless, towards the end of the movie.

A cop story by a screen writer who had worked in the police force, is bound have an edge, as the character traits are often drawn from real life character and the situations are fact-checked. We have been a witness to Shahi Kabir's impeccable nuanced screen writing, right from his 'Joseph' days to the recent 'Officer on duty'. His directorial debut, 'Ella Veela Poonchira' surprised the viewers, with an isolated cop story, that took an unnatural turn, leaving one numb. He was very convincing, as his skilful directorial skills, matched his prowess in writing and character building,

In 'Ronth' (meaning 'patrol'), Shahi makes the viewers ‘shadow’ the night patrol officer and his driver. What begins as shadowing, turns an ‘overnight internship’ at the police station and a master class in story- telling. Shahi’s strength is that his story absorbed the audience into his world, making them become part of the lives of the lead actors. He is in fact a representative for his officer’s clan, as his work never misses to voice out for the police force in its entirety. His stories not only braves the world through his insider angles, but also silently pleads the mass, to take a closer look at the humans inside those uniforms.  

The premise is established in brief beginning with the two police officers, one the assigned driver of the patrol jeep, played by Roshan Mathew and the other the patrolling officer on duty, played by Dileesh Pothen. Other than the lead characters, there are plenty one-liners looming around every other character that the lead duo is seen to be interacting with, making the backdrop move closer to reality and making the narration come alive on the big screen with added layers of story-telling.

For instance, the wife of Dileesh being inquisitive of the call records on his mobile, is layered with additional chapters of grief in a later reveal. In another instance a woman police officer on night duty pleads the night patrol officer not to bring any drunkards to the station, as they cause ruckus. The additional later layer is, when she requests Roshan to move aside while she attends a video call from her husband, as the husband is suspicious of her working on night duty around men folks.

The movie progresses as the duo attends to emergency calls during the length of their night patrolling and each encounter of theirs, is a short story in itself. The beauty of the narration is, with each emergency-call, that the duo tends to, renders a deeper glimpse of the human that they both individually are. Roshan’s eerie sequences of dealing with a call relating to a mentally unstable man harming his child, evokes his memories about his dad. Dileesh’s practical approach while handling a suicide case, mirrors his agony in his personal life, which unravels in the pen ultimate sequence.

The awkward unfriendly interactions between the duo, as Dileesh is constantly belittling Roshan, would normally indicate that the film would end with the two understanding each other for the honest person they truly are. But the director leaves the viewers twisted in grief, as the closing scene makes one dumbstruck, just like the way the director’s previous writings had. Indications were plenty in Ronth, but the director lures the viewers so cleverly and the movie ends ever so shockingly, NOT the way one would have wished it to have ended.

Operational stressors, are known to take a toll on the mental health of a police personnel. But the makers decide to highlight the consequences of traumas, relating to the organisational stressors as well. On one hand, the screenplay builds their stress levels up, block by block, through a beautiful documentation of the mundane events on a night patrol, and on the other, we are made to analyse that the duo’s stress actually stems from the ‘worry of perceptions’, by their own department men, their relatives and of course, the public.

Those ‘so-called’ mundane night patrol deed, gains significance, comes under scrutiny, as the sun rises, thanks to the usual ‘power abusing higher official’. The patrollers finally succumb to the chaos of vindictive accusations. And the movie ends, letting the audience sample the contrasts - how a seasoned officer would handle the allegation and how an emotionally fragile newbie would handle the same. The grim filled calmness in Dileesh’s face, to me spoke volumes on how an officer is torn apart from all possible sources and yet is expected to resurrect from it all, to be on duty, to save lives around, when he can’t save his own.  

Our gaze on those poorly maintained, noisy, ‘Ronth’ vehicles, would remain changed, at least for many years until this story is forgotten. And that kind of a paradigm shift is what the team should have hoped to arrive at. And while achieving that, the team also leaves the viewers, speechlessly pondering how unfair life is for some. It only seemed natural to account how privileged each of our lives are.

The movie is an immersive experience as the viewers are completely drawn into the director’s narrative world that involves the lives of two policemen. And he accomplishes it all, in a single night’s narration. The intent of the Director’s script grips harder in retrospect, as it keeps lingering for long. I was left clinging to the duo’s lives, for days after walking out of the cinema hall, and wondered if it was only me.

Veera Dheera Sooran

2025, Tamil, Theatrical release, IMDB 7.6/10, Directed by S.U. Arun Kumar

Published in Baradwaj Rangan's blog: https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2025/04/09/readers-write-in-788-veera-dheera-sooran-the-maneuverer/

A 'chaos theory', intersecting the lives of three social creatures, who unleash their manipulative tactics at varied levels, when their survival is at stake. The inherent survival instinct of the characters, beautifully synchronizes with their acquired traits of manoeuvring, to evade danger and to exploit the opponent for the same. A well-made thriller, narrated in a profound style, housing impressive performances.

It's a delight to watch the 'Chithha' director S.U. Arun Kumar, in a premise that casts a new light on the muscles of actor Vikram, as he plays Kaali, a deputy of a don, in his past. The actor is ‘all’ that the title claims him to be, but we infer that he has a 'restrained mode' turned on, to keep his family safe. A repentant hero making amends for past sins, trying to lead a normal life, might sound way too familiar. But the 'perspective predominant' narration, showcases the story in its complexity, as the viewers are lured to enter the mind space of the director's and the actor’s.

Casting ‘not so familiar’ actors for majority of the characters, plays to the strength of the film, as it kind of allows the viewers to sync into the story's newness. The story dives head on, demystifying the characters as and when they are introduced. Suraj Venjaramoodu's debut in Tamil, doubles the curiosity, as one is left to await the versatile actor to unravel the layers of his character Kannan, the son of a supposed Don, ‘Periyavar’ Ravi. Expectation sky rockets as SJ Surya, plays a cop yet again. However, the seriousness of the plot echoes in his no-nonsense performance as he plays SI Arunagiri. While the three major characters are converging on the lines of revenge and spitefulness, the malicious serpentine plot, alerts the viewers to hook on to the intensely paced narration, that even proves challenging at times for the attention span it demands.

Movie goers are often conditioned to a format that, 'Family' is the weakness of a hero and the family members would inevitably be held hostage by the antagonist at some point, to coerce the hero. But here, the trio- The don along with his son, his deputy and a Sub inspector, permutates the so-called ‘family card’ among themselves and at times at the audience as well. The narration unintendedly brings each one’s family to the forefront and instantly they tweak their decisions, posing a threat to the opponent. The Director attempts to simplify the complex thought process, through his well-executed screenplay and manages to keep the audience in the loop.

Vikram's Kaali character has a past that involves his boss Ravi, his son Kannan and Sub Inspector Arunagiri. In present, the power-hungry SI, sketches an encounter against the father and son framing them over a petty suspicious lead, of a missing lady, to whom the duo apparently did no harm. This revives the animosity among the three, as the father seeks Kaali, his past deputy, to save his son Kannan from the clutches of the SI.

SJ Surya, has been chiseled out of his usual quirky demeanor, and his eyes gleams of the urge to avenge the father and son. The duo had plummeted the SI’s career graph over a mishap in the past, right under his nose, in his own station. The sequence where he orally plans the encounter with his subordinates, the actor allows the viewers to peek in to the mind of his character Arunagiri. From the director’s angle, it might look like an easy ‘telling’ rather than ‘showing’. But, to make the audience become aware of the revenge fantasies of the SI, the meticulous patterns that he must have played in his head back and forth, it is only effective when the character narrates in his own words. For all the permutation of allies he forms in a wink of an eye, through the length of the movie, the actor makes each one of those promises, sound genuine, both to the opponent and to the audience. SJ Surya, undoubtedly, at his best.

The thread of ‘emotionalism’ to express the intensity of the family bond in the introduction sequences of Kaali's and the antagonist father-son duo's, are not mere manipulative set ups, to milk sentiments later. The women characters, be it Kaali's wife Kalai, played by the 'incredible' Dushara Vijayan or be it Ravi's wife or his daughter Sreeja, they are the ones who actually fuel the story. The director had seemingly infused high emotional intelligence into majority of his characters, for they steer and twist the screenplay, cruising along the vulnerable moments of each one of them. The interactions between the characters are often driven by degrees of deceit and some of them seem involuntary, suggesting that this maybe their order of life.

It is the 'intent' behind these deceptions that differentiate them from one another and the audience become the jurors. Kalai manipulates her husband Kaali, not to venture into gang violence again. She cites the intensity of her daughter’s past trauma, that the adolescent girl continues to bed wet. But when it comes to saving her own family, she is seen resorting to a knife herself. What could be worse, she puts the knife to the neck of a little girl, who seem younger that her own daughter.

The inspector manipulates the entire force to make them believe that the encounter is inevitable, while his primary intention is to avenge the father and son. The father, Don Ravi manipulates Kaali to save his son's life and he goes to all possible extent, even if it means falling on the feet of his one-time deputy. But on the other hand, Ravi shows signs that he is sure to wipe Kaali off at the earliest, once his desired outcome is achieved. Kannan manipulates Ravi, his father and the SI, to make Ravi take the don ‘Periyavar’ position. And the biggest manipulator of them all is, the protagonist Kaali himself, who manipulates every character around him for varied intentions, starting with his own family, the SI, Ravi and Kannan.

Venkat's, is a beautifully written character. He seems to be a cousin of Kannan’s, for he addresses his dad, ‘Uncle’. And he is in awe of Kaali's courageous past. Venkat, is naively loyal, fights the battles for his uncle’s family, follows Kaali’s instructions, executes order by fighting in the front line for Kaali, undergoes prison terms to keep Kaali out, but is a little cowardly. He flees when he feels he is cornered or when he senses danger. This trait of his, organically pans out in the ‘silent’ penultimate sequence with Kalai and Kaali beside him. His cowardice is a reflection of the genuine goodness in his heart we gather. A guy who misplaced his loyalties, due to lack of shrewdness maybe. S U Balaji as Venkat, nails expressing the character's inner thoughts, with his eyes capturing the exact essence of the writer’s.

Similarly, Sreeja, Kannan's sister, a bold character who makes herself heard always, an adamant spoilt youngster of the don’s family, is yet another noteworthy character. Suvedha G playing Sreeja, effectively contributes towards the eerie tension in one too many turning points of the film, building the momentum. Same goes with Maala Parvathi playing Kannan’s mom. Her bond with Kaali seems almost ‘divine’ and again this film being a 'middle act', a part 2, leaves one inquisitive on what might have been the pact between the two. These kinds of titbits, keep the story ‘alive’, long after we walk out of the theatres.

The finesse in character etching is evident, as their traits were well hinted, pretty much in their respective introductions. The characters keep traveling with a distinct note, parallelly. They do their fair part in contributing towards story building and keeps the audience hooked with their fantastic final acts, which shines through, as the end credits scrolls.

Each character believes and behaves in line with a perspective of their own, and when each one is faced with a conflict, they change their stances, like a game of musical chair. The 16 odd minutes single shot, has got to be the highlight of the movie, a sheer team work. A steady tension building sequence, focusing on the movements of the members of the gang, who assist Kannan break free from the custody of the police. But the camera interestingly documents the emotional dilemmas of Kaali’s, keeping the viewers on the edge.

S. U. Arun Kumar proves to have become a refined craftsman, as he chooses to bring the curtain down, using the characters who started the ball rolling, that broke all hell lose, causing chaos in many lives around. The director has created a universe for himself, that arouse curiosity, and he now has adequate content for both a prequel and a sequel.   

Polity, Propaganda and Parasakth

 Polity, Propaganda and Parasakth

  Published in https://fipresci-india.org/e-cineindia-january-march-2025/

                                            

Link to the article : https://fipresci-india.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/9.-Art.-Latha-Rajasekar-Parasakthi.pdf

Birthing a film, that was requested to be stalled from being censored, after it took shape into its visual medium, is bound to go down in history. Proceeding to release a movie is no easy feat, when letters were thronged by right wing leaders, to the then Chief Minister of Madras State, requesting him to curb the screening. It should have been a mammoth task for the team to surpass all obstacles that were thrown their way and take their finished work to the theaters. While the era of dramas in the 50’s, were idealizing lead characters in the movies which were largely influenced by societal norms, the conditioned audience would have been startled for sure, with a ‘new mood realism’, called ‘Parasakthi’.

The 1952 Parasakthi’s ground breaking story telling and sharp dialogues attacking social inequalities and religious superstitions have influenced generations and beyond. With a recent announcement of a period film, by the same name, creating a buzz in Tamil industry, it only becomes relevant to revisit the ‘trend setter’ movie.

The story was based on Pavalar Balasundaram’s stage play whose primary intention should have been to portray the setbacks faced by Tamils, during the World War II. However, the screenplay writer, efficiently tweaked the tonality of the story by adding a satirical tone to it. It was seen by many as a personal agenda, of a political party’s representative. The religious satires in the movie are so very blunt and straightforward, given the time of the movie’s release.  

It was then, the world was introduced to the daring and dynamic side of the 28-year-old fierce youngster, Mr. M. Karunanidhi, the screenplay and dialogue writer of Parasakthi. Though his maiden venture was for a M.G. Ramachandran starer Rajakumari, only in Parasakthi, he proclaimed his political affiliations, through rebellious dialogue composition.

Rationalists in Tamil Nadu, did campaign against superstitions nearly half a century before the ‘Periyar E.V. Ramasamy’s Era’, in the 1930’s. A progressive journal ‘Tattuva Vivesini’ in Tamil, meaning ‘inquirer of truth’ and the same in English called ‘The Thinker’, were published by the Madras Freethought Tract Society in British Madras, as early as 1882-1888. The journal critiqued the incontrovertible religious principles and focused on social issues like caste systems in India, advocating scientific evidences. A few more ‘freethinking’ intellectual groups in the Old Madras Province, like the ‘Hindu Freethought Union’ were also critical of the Hindu Myths.

But it was Periyar’s rationalist views that were the most challenged. He was accused of promoting godlessness, being indiscriminate and being a ‘scourge’ of Hinduism. Following independence, in 1949, C. N. Annaduari (Anna), parted ways with Periyar and spawned a new party, DMK, just a few months prior to the works of ‘Parasakthi’ began. Anna, supposedly is the first politician from the Dravidian Parties, to use his oratorical and writing skills to gain political mileage.

A student activist in ‘Periyar’s’ Self-Respect Movement, born as M. Dakshinamurthy, who later changed his name to M. Karunanidhi, joined hands with Anna in DMK at the age of 25. Karunanidhi, a self-described rationalist, went on to become the propaganda voice of the newly found party, exhibiting his reformist principles. A critique of superstitions and organised religion, the rationalist, invested his reasoning and knowledge in Parasakthi’s screenplay. The movie opens with duo girls dancing and singing the song ‘Dravida Nadu’ in praise of the Dravidian land, a proclaimer, propagating the orientation of the movie.

Parasakthi, apart from its political references, amongst many sub plots and hidden agendas, is an honest attempt in depicting a ‘self-realisation’ journey of the three brothers who had immigrated to Myanmar. While one brother is forced to return to attend their sister’s wedding in Madras, the other two, are forced to evacuate war zones and later return to homeland. The hard-hitting estranged siblings ‘rich to rag’ facet is the main plot of the movie. But the writer channelizes the screenplay, so the audience would experience the common man’s actual ‘pain of poverty’, in a crooked, women maligning society. The screenplay is a well-defined funda of polity, hinting anti-incumbency. However, the pain inflicting dialogues, does lure the viewers to sway towards the writer’s desired path.

If a movie can stay relevant till date after a whooping seven decades, the team needs to be accoladed, for their craft, struck the right chords ‘then’ and it continues to do so, contemporarily. The razor-sharp dialogue by the doyen, exfoliates the societal inequalities, off the mindset of the privileged lot, both on and off screen. The key here is, the condemning dialogues doesn’t spare the protagonists either - one a learned Judge, and the other, a pampered extravagant.

The debutante thespian Mr. Sivaji Ganesan, would have known that ‘Parasakthi’ is his door to a whole new world, a much mightier one than his theatrical stages. But little did he know that he is about to be proclaimed, as one of the greatest Indian actors of all times. Mr. Ganesan would easily be the most versatile debutante any industry would have ever witnessed. The actor excelled, certainly because his debut character arc, paved a comprehensive platform for him to perform.

The actor juggles extremities with grace and of course, with jaw dropping ease. The actor is introduced as a sumptuously spoilt rich kid, who pities the beggars on the roads of Madras and tosses a coin to the porter in tip. Later, he becomes a beggar himself on the pavement and then turns a swindler, under the guise of a lunatic. A dream debut character for any performer, indeed.

The actor on one hand, connects beautifully with the audience on his dilemma of not divulging his sorry state, to his widowed sister Kalyani, who dreams that her brothers would take her and her infant to the land of wealthy life, someday. On the other hand, he enchants the viewers with his platonic love towards the girl, Vimala, who becomes instrumental in mending his thoughts, broadening his perspectives and aligning his focus on achieving a stable and thriving society. The actor devours his meaty role as he gets to showcase variety in his performance and his nuanced facial expressions and fiery dialogue delivery, left him, unparalleled.

In a posthumously published 2007 memoir, Sivaji Ganesan had quoted a sound engineer who had commented on him- ‘the new boy was opening his mouth like a fish, whilst speaking’. However, the audience proved this criticism wrong, as his high pitch sound, resonated well within his vocal cavity, enhancing his articulation and rendering clarity to his dialogues. It in fact, made him more relatable to real life characters and connected him to the audience, big time. The diaphragmatic dialogue delivery was a ‘theater artist trait’ of the actor, and it made him come alive on the silver screen, almost making him tangible.

Parasakthi’s pinnacle is, its ‘self-realisation’ journey, the actual transformation of the siblings to become a newer version of themselves. The conversation with Vimala, the activist, refines the thoughts of Mr. Ganesan’s character Gunasekaran. She points that, had he not thought, what the society might perceive of his act of losing his wealth to a fraudster, while being intoxicated, he wouldn’t have stooped low to become a beggar or a thief himself. These kind of dialogues by the lateral thinker Karunanidhi, interplays both with his on-screen characters and off-screen viewers.

The judicial elder brother, Chandrasekaran played by the fantastic S.V. Sahasranamam, is destined a transformation too, but rather a painful one. He chases away his sister, whom he doesn’t recognise and her baby whom he doesn’t know it existed, when she comes begging at his door steps. And even sad, he shoos them away to receive an eminent guest for the dinner that he is hosting.

Viewers are left to ponder, however noble souled a person might be, like that of the character Justice Chandrasekaran, the plight of our country is that we are conditioned with a reflex to disregard a person seeking alms. Sadly, it is true that the number of hands seeking alms, were and are, insanely high. In today’s world, we are often in doubt if we are actually feeding the homeless and hungry, amidst the begging mafia. We are even evaluating the physical abilities of those begging and are taught not to encourage any able bodied to beg. The incident in the story, wields a judgment on our own selves in self-scrutiny and questions our conscience even after several decades.

Chandrasekaran’s is a brave role, and his transformation comes with a penalty of losing sanity after knowing that it was his ‘hungry’ sister and her infant, he had shooed away. What could be worse, he is the sitting judge for the case of his sister Kalyani’s. She is accused of murdering her infant, as she could not find any means to feed the child.

The second brother, Gnanasekaran’s character, played by S.S.Rajendran, is a solution driven one. Japanese bombardment in Myanmar, forces the brothers to walk towards their homeland, but Gnanasekaran loses his leg in a shelling and is lost. And, to one’s sorrow, he is left with no option, other than seeking alms for a living. However, he proactively aims to create an association, to reform the ‘begging community’, to steer them away from organised crimes and to facilitate their rehabilitation. The story comes a full circle, doesn’t it?

The screenplay offers solution to societal issues, with due references to C.N.Annadurai’s ideologies. In the conversation with Vimala, Gunasekaran accuses the society, as an ‘abode of beggars’, an ‘inn for lunatics’ and a ‘den of thieves. But Vimala replies, duly echoing the voice of Anna’s newly found political party. She accuses Gunasekaran that he had unknowingly let the society fool him to become a beggar, a madman and a thief. Vimala goes on to narrate, that many people have become ‘rich in the guise of mad men’ and ‘millionaires in the guise of beggar’. She calls Gunasekaran, ‘self-centred’, because he is bothered only about his own sister and not concerned about the innumerable destitutes of the society. It was and is, the party’s call to common men, the ‘potential’ party carders.

Sensational conversations like these, went on to become the voice of Tamil Nadu’s polity, initially winning people’s heart and winning elections there on. These revolutionary insights did lay foundation for many state laws, such as slum replacement, legal land documents and rehabilitation of beggars through vocational training and skill development.

Though the movie was a celebration of kinship, it was those fiery dialogues, from the point of view of a common man, that made ‘Parasakthi’, a supreme force. Mr. Karunanidhi adapts a critique’s tone, in attacking the age-old cherished beliefs and institutions. His own ideologies on Religion, God and Priest, permeates his writing and resonates profoundly with the discriminated mass, till date. His rationalism became an awakening call for those who internalized the pain in his writing, and it did provoke the consciences of many. Controversial elements and the rumored ban of the film, only boosted the movie’s theatrical run.

Characterisation becomes noteworthy, as and when each character mouths the writer’s principles and beliefs, either as satires or in a condemning tone. The archetypes of conmen, like the black-marketer and the misbehaving priest, were always paired with a helper, who sympathized the victim, duly concurring with the audience. Every dig at mythology and casteism, served as subliminal coercers, questioning the ‘buried’ rationalist, in each viewer. The movie is a sheer illustrative example, exhibiting the strength of a writer.  

Karunanidhi’s literary prowess, was explicit, in the assonance of the court scene monologue. Veteran actor Sivakumar had mentioned on several occasions that, aspiring actors of those era, would be expected to recite Karunanidhi’s writing, in auditions. The climax monologue soon became Karunanidhi’s identity. All movies that he wrote thereafter, mandatorily featured a sequence, to accommodate such lengthy pieces, with similar vowel sounds. This ‘branding’ of Karunanidhi’s, electrified the viewers, as they aroused in excitement in the theaters and led to evolve as a cult in his political career.

Religious satires are difficult to comprehend for any believer, like me. However, the sarcastic remarks registering his contempt, never failed to leave the audience in awe. Every dig, leaves an overwhelming amazement in admiration for the writer. He compliments the process, befittingly, using his language proficiency, an innate trump of his.

Kalyani the sister of the three brothers, asks her father, if he could postpone the wedding, since her brothers couldn’t make it. The father replies, ‘it would cause trouble if the astrologer’s date is changed’. The astrologer’s auspicious date, is left to linger in the ears of the viewers, as Kalyani’s marriage ends abruptly, making her life a living chaos. The dialogue questions such believes, without directly condemning.

Had someone missed these correlations, the monologue by Gunaseakran in the pre-climax, dutifully reiterates, to make fresh digs. He claims at the court - ‘Sister Kalyani’s, is an auspicious name (meaning good fortune and prosperity), but she is now an epitome of inauspiciousness, left without even a mangal sutra’. The viewers are made to recollect Kalyani’s misfortune in becoming a destitute by losing her husband in an accident, (whom she had married on an auspicious date), and later losing her grieving father.  

Mock on astrology continues in the ‘molesting priest’ sequence as well. When the priest blesses a devotee ‘long life’, Gunaseakran from behind the deity, warns the priest to assess his own horoscope first, as he is about to kill him. In answer to the priest’s exclamation, ‘Was it Goddess Ambal who spoke?’, Gunasekaran replies, ‘When has the Goddess spoke, you fool?’. These are highly insensitive words from any believer’s perspective, and was the very reason why the dialogues were requested to be axed by the censor committee. It still is bound to hurt the sentiments of many and will continue to do so in future. But the writer’s counter narrative might be, he intended to address the pain of the vulnerable mass, in a ‘conmen infested world’, who are exploiting them, in the name of religion and superstitions.

Nuanced variations in characterisations, creates a conversation within, on right or wrong, while still being invested in the movie. It almost becomes an interactive exercise after a point. For instance, the activist Vimala, played by beautiful Pandari Bai, is not mad at Gunasekaran, who runs away with her food packets, pretending to be her porter at the railway station. She is pitying him thinking he should have been hungry and even admires his interesting facets later when he is at her backyard, sharing the stolen food with the crows. In a much later scene where Kalyani is shooed away from many homes, and finally by her own brother, one can’t stop comparing the contrasting traits of Chandrasekaran with Vimala.

The writer’s ironical satires, became huge highlights of the movie. His writing adorns the screenplay with several trivial looking consciences prickers, but landed big, amongst audience. One such accoladed scene is, the name of the lady who refuses to give alms to Kalyani, is ‘Annapoorani’, the name of a Goddess in Hindu mythology, representing food and nourishment. In another instance, when Kalyani asks food from a man who is seen sitting outside his house, counters, he is hungry too. He says, there isn’t much difference between them both, for he hasn’t eaten in three days. A satirical testimony indeed, reflecting the ill effects of hoarding and famine in the state.

The refugee camp sequence highlights the mindset of the unfortunate lot, the burden of caste on a common man and the discriminative politics of the northerners Vs southerners. The refugees from Myanmar are refused place and are mistreated. The dialogues rebel, calling out lack of humanity, morality or love in the hearts of fellow countrymen. While Gnanasekaran’s character, aims to tremble the government onscreen, through the revolutionary Statewide Beggars Conference, demanding voting rights for beggars, the politician Mr. Karunanithi captivates the audience with his writing skills parallelly.

The celebrated climax monologue is the soul of the movie. It almost summarises the story and the ideologies, citing emotional and psychological logics in substantiation. Ganesan’s diaphragmatic delivery, ascertains the moral and social factors that forced his sister to attempt suicide after throwing her child in the river.

The societal accusation - ‘Famine impelled his sister to kill her infant’, has been thoughtfully threaded through the greedy black-market hoarder’s character. Gunasekaran tries to establish the evil outcomes of hoarding in society, in a beautiful ‘vowel rhyme’.  The dialogue rhymes, ‘Was it the fault of ‘Panjam’ (famine) to let the swindlers grow, or was it the fault of those who invited famine to their ‘Manjam (bed), indicating the rich misbehaving hoarder.

Theses catchy phrases result in an internal monologue in the minds of the audience, days or perhaps decades in this case, after watching the film. If warfare were the core cause of food shortage, the writer highlights the human aspect in messing the distribution chain, a major human cause, resulting in horrific tragedies. The writer voices out the common man’s perspective, in resonance to their harrowing pain.      

On the other hand, how does one process the fact that Gunasekaran and Kalyani were ‘pressurized’ to turn unlawful? How do we process the fact that it was the society that drove them to become convicts? Believers, easily opt to term the twisted mishaps as someone’s ‘fate’. But Karunanidhi who despises supernatural and pre-destined elements, writes in assonance- “Is it the fault of ‘Vidhi’ (fate) or is it the fault of ‘Veenargal’ (worthless people) who thrive in the name of fate?”

Be it ‘Karma’ in Hinduism or ‘Qadar’ (God’s Decree) in Islam, they all point to the broadly used term ‘Fate’. What explanation do we have in favour of ‘fate’ other than our religious texts? While only scientific evidences would suffice as explanation to our interrogative young minds, are we inevitably branded as inhumane and non-empathetic, as we continue to blame it all on ‘Fate’? Are we pushed to theorise ‘Fate’ as directly proportional to lack of empathy and compassion?

Qualitative dialectical oppositions like these might prompt one to investigate ‘communism’ and crosscheck ‘philosophical texts on reasoning’. But, if the essence of any religion is ‘to spread love’ and ‘be kind’, the likes of Gunaseakarans seem to strive for, is also the same kind of ‘love’ towards fellow beings.

After exploring newer understandings in introspection, majority of the viewers, who were open for logical transformation, acknowledged the concurrences. The writer’s words in fact became instrumental in making the viewers pronounce inwards, the need to rework their algorithms, to master basic humanity, despite religious orientations.  

On the contrary, the monologue partly can also be seen as, the writer’s defence for his religious satires, all along. Some even see it as the writer’s redemption arc. An attempt to amend atheist deliberations and to address misconceptions of dialogues.

The five odd minutes monologue, would easily persuade any rational human to side with Gunasekaran’s emotional arguments. It is Karunanidhi summing his noble intentions behind his ridicules. Nevertheless, contradictions continue to prevail till date, in spite of ‘creative liberty’ and ‘freedom of speech’ justifications. Sensitive phrases questioning and ridiculing the existence of God, irks believers, but such iron fistedness becomes mandatory to keep a check on the mushrooming religious conmen, who exploit people encashing their superstitions.

What is worrisome is, the concerns of the writer about the dire situation of the majority of our people, hasn’t changed much, in our contemporary lives, even after seven long decades. Poverty indexes dodge the real homeless nomads and alms seekers, paving way for misrepresentation of ground realities.

The concerns worsen by the thought that the writer’s anguish, hasn’t wiped poverty off the state, even after many terms of power in their hands. Except for making the adage true - the rich got richer and the poor became poorer with soaring price rises, history seems, all stagnated.

Reference:

The article shaped up after a detailed interview with Mr. Balasubramaniam, my dad, who himself had aspired to become an actor 7 decades ago. His textile family, hailing from a small-town Salem, in Tamil Nadu, had to heave my dad, during his late teens from Madras and curfewed him not to enter the movie industry. Now at age 82, his eyesight has failed him due to a regenerative retinal disease and is hard of hearing too. Yet, he watched the movie with me with great zeal, often pausing, to share trivia about the movie, and decoding the maker’s intentions for me. His ‘common movie lover’ point of view, threw light on the expectations of the youth of that era and how the writing inspired many, in more than one way. Interestingly, being staunchly religious himself, he adores the monologues of M. Karunanidhi’s and recites them in perfection. He is an ardent fan of the versatile actor Mr. Sivaji Ganesan and the enchanter, M.G. Ramachandran.

 

Meiyazhagan 

Published in National Award winning Movie Critic, Baradwaj Rangan's blog on 3rd October 2024- https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2024/10/03/readers-write-in-737-meiyazhagan/

 

Up close and personal with a duo, one who wallows in pain and the other gleefully witty, each taking inspirations from the other, to become a forgiving soul and a better human than what they both already are. Their interpersonal interactions emitting love and goodness, rubs off and prompts virtuousness. The film documents sensory pleasures through gestures, facial expressions, tone and body language, multiplying the dimensions of the undemanding story.

Only a very few have the bandwidth to detach, especially from their houses, even if it is an unpretentious abode. For many, 'Home', is the collective 'tangible soul' of ancestors, who lived there for generations. Young Arulmozhi played by the charming Saran Shakthi, comforted by the trunk of 'Baby' the elephant, is seen bidding farewell. He is parting not just his 'ancestral house' in a family partition, but we infer he also parts his nativity, his identity and his happiness. The soulful music stirs the vacuum with equally distressing lyrics referring to 'going away as a mere skeleton'. I was left to sob silently, wondering if it was the lamenting music, the father who wants to flee before dawn to evade the pitying eyes of relatives and neighbors, the emptiness of the house when the doors are shut, with us audience standing lost inside the darkness of the locked house, or was it the director who had composed it all together to begin the movie's narration with. Bet it was all of the above.

Arul helps his mom dig the concrete plastering beneath the worn out 'Ammikal'- mortar and pestle, so it could be shifted to Chennai with them. But, the pain of losing a house in its entirety, makes him numb to ask for his old cycle be thrust in to the van that was already crammed and ready to move. As viewers, we witness the house having a destiny of its own, and now we are hinted, so will the old cycle, and we await the comeback of it, in the later half, thanks to those teasing teasers and prompting promos.

Arvindswamy, the grown Arulmozhi, and his parents in Chennai, are seen the same old 'self-sympathizing, dwellers of the past'. We audience are left to accompany Arvind on his journey to a village named 'Needamangalam', adjacent to his native town Thanjavur, along with his wife Hema, played by the soothing Devadharshini, who stays connected over phone. The director's surreal characterization leaves us hooked in reminiscence, for each of our lives would have a tale of such a relative who opted living incognito, an agnathavasam, in my case, my aunt and her family.

Karthi is introduced as an amusing charmer, the native 'go-to-relative' who is closely knit with the whole bunch of relatives and their lives. Again, I was left to recollect my cousin, who is my maternal family's go-to-person, for his relative database, guides us to invite the relatives in person for an event in any of our houses, say a marriage. The point of views of Arvind and Karthi are striking contrasts. While Karthi idolized Arvind, Karthi is a mere 'motor mouth' annoyance for Arvind. The movie comes a full circle when Arvind's opinions are reversed, as he is sent on a soul search through the eyes of the other, while trying to understand who Karthi is. For Karthi, it is thanksgiving but for Arvind it is to find his lost 'happy' self.

The screenplay is at is strongest, sans any loose ends like the 'black ribbon' on Karthi's shirt is a prologue for him being an activist. Every prop, dialogue, gesture and character have a purpose, for they are part of this honest narrative. The wives of Karthi and Aravindswamy not accompanying them to the wedding, is the solitude monger, Director C Prem Kumar's pattern to get into his forte of 'deep talks'.

As the two men, begin to bond over a couple of earthen pot drink, conversations begin to unveil Karthi's character and the actor devours the opportunity to own the screen space. Karthi's characterization is much more complex and the director keeps adding layers of genuinity, gullibility and nativism to arrive at the modern-day warrior, that he is. His empathy, his historic affiliation, political sensibilities- the man is a role model. Those are the exact words of Arvind to his wife on reaching back to Chennai - Karthi is an epitome of good Samaritans and he is no where near Karthi.

The cycle has a comeback in the later half as predicted and it turns Arvind a teen, and Karthi, his mom who had safe-kept the child's favourite possession, not to surprise him someday, but as a memento, a souvenir, a life changing instrument, a Deity. After a frantic search on the wall hung school photo, trying to remember and identify who Karthi is, Arvind cringes, in comparison, realizing he doesn't know the name of the 'being', who drenches him with love.

The director opts to make Arvind flee Karthi's house, just like his family did long ago, in the middle of the night. But this time in a different kind of shame. On his mad rush out of the house, he clutches the slippers of Karthi closer to his chest, the ones he wore mistakenly, turns back with tears gushing, and looks longingly into the alley, just to see if Karthi is coming to stop him flee. In the beautifully composed sequence, Arvind proclaims to the world, what his true potentials are.

Karthi's wife Nandhini played by Sri Divya, stays true to her mythological name, for Nadhini is the daughter of Kamadenu, the bovine goddess who fulfils all the desires. We witness Nandhini fulfilling all possible wishes of Karthi and Karthi duly reciprocating in fulfilling hers. The ace director, beautifully intertwines the sentiments of the two men, by merging in the common denominator - 'Home'. The self-made person Karthi, says he bought his father-in-law's house by paying off the shares of Nandhini's siblings, just to bring back happiness in his wife's face. The scene stirs the conscience of the audience as we are inevitability left to weigh the lives of Arvind's and Karthi's.

The wildlife cinematographer turned director couldn't refrain from capturing the parallel lives of animals and birds, around us humans. The pandemonium of parrots, the red bulbul building its nest under a cart, the cat stepping out of the cricket helmet, the gigantically grown temple elephant, the Kangeyam Jallikattu bull, the pedicuring ayira kunjugal (spiny loaches fingerlings), the cobra and its supposed hatchlings at the backyard - we have them all fascinatingly co-existing in Meiyazhagan..

Director explores all possible dimensions of love through his characters, for 'Meiyazhagan' is an embodiment of love, both literally and figuratively. Cousin sister Bhuvana, rejoices Arvind turning up for the wedding with gifts to treasure. Bus conductor Jaggu, an old student of his father's, takes liberty to insist Arvind to ignore conflicts with a few, respect the love of the majority and visit home town more frequently. Latha, his cousin regrets marrying an alcoholic instead of marrying Arvind and she forces a second serve of rice with overflowing love.

The wedding caterer insists Arvind taste 'Ashoga Halwa'. The florist outside the temple says, it is 'Our God', and He won't mind if Arvind hasn’t bathed. The beautiful bond between Kanagarasu, the 'no-face' handy boy and Karthi, are such amusing reels, as they poke fun at each other. It is Govind Vasnath’s music that elevates these visuals and like in ‘96’, their combination assists translating the Director’s emotions in the right context, that he had envisioned.

Characterizations with high moral values, elevated in style, makes this noble premise, rise above the ordinary. Love inspires, Love heals, Love transforms people, Love motivates forgiveness and Love conceptualizes and celebrates works like ‘Meiyazhagan’. Oh yeah, 'Anbe Arutperum Mei'- Love is the divine truth.

Ponman

2025, Malayalam, Jio Hotstar, 7.5/10 IMDB, Directed by Jotish Shankar

Published in Mr. Baradwaj Rangan's movie blog- https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2025/03/25/readers-write-in-785-ponmaan-the-golden-deer/

A character driven movie 'casually' instilling an urge to find the purpose of life among the idling population and giving a grand hope for the slogging lot. On the go, young girls are sent on soul searches to decode what true beauty is, aimed to knock down the 'dream killing' dowry fanaticism, in the land of God's own country.

The premise is novel, like majority of Malayalam industry's. The 2023, Biju Menon and Vineeth Sreenivasan starer 'Thankam', gave a Thirssur perspective of the city's gold brokers trying to find market in Mumbai. In 'Ponman', it is Kollam perspective of a gold agent, an unheard kind. An extension of the traditional goldsmith practices of those days, who made jewellery and delivered it to households, this is one such story of a middle man, an agent in present day scenario.

The gold smiths were apparently referred as or mobile jewellery or 'Madiyil Jewellery' (madiyil translates 'in the lap' meant to refer 'in the embrace') and hence the fancy blend word title - Ponman. On the face of it, 'Pon' means gold and hence man who delivers it becomes ponman, more like, attaching their job to their names with a tag, something like a 'postman' or a 'milkman'. The metaphorical second layer behind this merger word, transpires beautifully towards the end of the movie. 'Ponman' in south languages, in spite of being a letter short in the English version of the title, sounds more like 'ponmaan' translating 'golden deer' indicating the key element in the Indian epic, Ramayana. And Golden deer, is a metaphorical reference to temptation and illusory desires called 'Maya'. This is exactly the intention of the makers; to equate the yellow metal to maya and they subtly begin the process, starting from the title naming.

The movie is at its best with abundant non preachy eye openers and seamless screenplay. The makers strike the right chords as the movie conveys their true intentions in right proportions at the right time. It easily is the best socially responsible movie in recent times, but for the excessive alcohol dependent characters especially the lead character P.P. Ajeesh, played by Basil Joseph. But, again, the more we delve into the psyche of the character and start reading in between his unpretentious dialogues, it adds multiple layers to the character.

Character development both external and internal is an art and without question, is the key to any screenplay which is intended to captivate the audience. Ponman scores big in detailing the traits of its prime characters and eventually swapping the traits among them as the film progresses. Viewers are introduced to the lead character Ajeesh through, the brother of the bride, Bruno's eyes. Bruno himself is a hit man associated with a party and is introduced as a muscling rogue. Ajeesh comes out to be this no-nonsense casual broker, who may seem petite but is a heavy yet steady drinker, passionate about his job and is well connected.

Ajeesh seems a compassion less mechanical person with a monotonous routine, and Bruno with no brain and no job. Similarly, Bruno's brother-in-law Mariyano, the groom, played by Saijin Gopu is another classic character. He is the third kind, a bulk looking man with no principles but is very passionate about his work. What the director makes out these three characters within the boundary of the story is what makes Ponman stand tall.

Dig at dowry mongering is the crux of the story but the director never touches upon the subject, other than a couple of personal conflict remarks between characters. Ajeesh is even seen warning the mother of the bride on a casual note - 'Gold is a curse and trouble follows it wherever it goes'. A subtle remark, but it is the very statement, the crew is trying to establish.

Lijomol Jose as Steffie, the bride, shines in her character that transforms from being helpless to becoming selfish, and then to search within to bring to surface her individuality. She represents millions of women across the country who are catteled into the institution called marriage. Girls who stumble upon when life throws rationale questions on beliefs, like those from the movie 'Laapataa Ladies' depicted from the villages of Uttarakhand.

Bruno's transformation is a beautiful one too, as he gets a lease of new hope in life, an inspiration from Ajeesh, to helps him streamline and turn responsible. Ajeesh's constant booing on Mariyano to belittle him for vying on the bride family's sweat money, is a pricking gesture pointing to all dowry solicitors in the audience.

When the movie ends, all that drinking and merry making by Ajeesh comes as he was masking his fear and mustering his courage to dive each time into the risky venture, which he had made his livelihood. His 'underwear morning merry' at the beach is yet another indication of his emotional disturbance that he tries to mask it off in the name of fantasy, merely to be woken up early and to get over his hangover. Yet another beautiful layer and it made more sense as the end credits rolled.

Ajeesh's simple hardworking family is an insight into his poor background as the character hints the lack of any ancestry wealth for a 'head start' in life. It is another facet that the makers establish to confront the men in the audience, who make grand plans for their lives, hoping dowry would be their stepping stone. A man who is determined to succeed in life fighting all odds, A man who would go to extremes to safeguard other's trust in him, A man who is untouched by emotional dilemmas, A man who is sincere to his job, A man who is focused and unintentionally sets the path right in many people's lives around him, A man who appetites the goodness in a bride who chucks her newly-wed groom, in realization to prioritize herself and to leave the 'pon' gold behind - Basil Joseph playing Ajeesh, just nails them all, capturing more hearts this time too.

The pride of the 'all praise' Kollam title song, slowly wanes away to expose the engagement people get themselves into, in the name of dowry gold. They are merely caught in 'maya', as the dowry gold is mimicking the ancient mythological 'PonmaAn'. When Ajeesh and Steffie row away to the city banks, Steffie is seen removing her jewellery, slowly shifting consciousness to a state of awareness. She overcomes the illusion, prompting girls in the audience to follow suit. And Ajeesh comments true beauty doesn't lie in the 'jewelry of gold', implying, true beauty is in the 'flawless heart of gold'.

Philosophically, the veil called 'Maya', a mere manifestation of Brahman's power, which was obscuring the true nature of reality is lifted and both the characters shine nothing less that 'Pon'.

Lubber Pandhu

2024, Tamil, Theatrical, 9/10 IMDB, Directed by Tamizharasan Pachamuthu

Published in Baradwaj Rangan's movie blog. https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2024/09/25/readers-write-in-734-lubber-pandhu/

A perfect confluence of design, content and style, this flick keeps the audience engaged, as much as any gully cricket match would. It becomes a crowd favourite as the maker wraps a relationship drama into the cricket premise. Attakathi Dinesh, Harish Kalyan make their presence felt, along with actor 'Vijayakanth' who joins them from above.

Cricket sells, but not every sports drama with cricket as its premise, wins the audience over. The movie, 'Chennai 28' enchanted the cricket loving audience, more than a decade and half ago, and Lubber Pandhu is aimed at mimicking that magic. 'Blue Star', released early this year, has a similar sub text of caste marring the spirit of sports with layers of romance. But 'Lubber Pandhu' sugar coats the same, in a 'non-preachy' mode, as the screenplay spins an amusing family drama around.

The form and design of the two movies are pretty much similar. Both the movies throw light on how 'caste in sports' is a deadly combo. 'Blue Star' tries to instill fear in the viewer's minds by laying emphasis on the consequences of concocting caste in sports, through narrating an unpleasant violent incident of the past. 'Lubber Pandhu' indicates the same, ever-so precisely involving minimal semiotic inferences. Lubber Pandhu's screenplay is stacked with emotions but the predominant of them all is the 'ego clash' between the two lead men. The strength of the movie is the director's subtlety in visualizing complex issues.

Athakathi Dinesh's character Poomaalai, surpasses the vibrant Harish Kalyan's Anbu character. The characterization compliments the actor's unique onscreen emoting skills and the depth in his eyes. His nonchalant demeanor, lion like velour on the cricket ground and love - stricken adolescent mannerism when at home, is not a loud transition yet the actor exhibits it beautifully through his fluid body language. The bond with his daughter and love towards his mom, makes Poomaalai a complete package and the soul of the movie. The nuances in his expressions, adds more layers, other than what is explicitly seen onscreen. For instance, he tires not reveal the ego that disturbs his inner peace and when it does spurt out, the actor plays, a mere 'tool', to express what had been brewing within him, over a period of time.

However, Harish Kalyan's character seem to be etched with more depth, as he is seen to be more mature among the two, when it comes to manipulating situations to get what he desires. From participating as a guest player in the teams of his choice to up his career, to showcase his nobility in letting 'colony boys' to be a part of the team that once rejected him, Anbu steals our hearts. Sporting true sportsmanship when in failure makes him to be looked up to. Repainting the CSK fanatic paint on the walls of his house with the color choice of his fiancé's and rehearsing an apology note to the would-be father-in-law, the young actor is super convincing. Harish Kalyan the 'Parking' actor, is on a roll and his choice to play beside a hero with equal screen-space and mass moments, is not just brave. It throws light on the actor's passion to play versatile roles in stronger and newer scripts.

The female leads mom and daughter duo, take the center stage as their characters are equally stronger to that of the men folks. The men get much 'macho' on the cricket ground, only to become 'kittens' when at home, explaining the respect they possess for the love of their lives. Poomaalai sleeps every night making his bed out of his wife's sarees, following a ruckus at the stadium, resulting in her walking out. It is easily the height of mid-age romance. Poomaalai's mom played by the adorable Geetha Kailasam, takes her cow and calf to her daughter in law's mother's house, saying the cattle are missing her. Later, she declares she miss her too, as there is no one to give her food and give the right pills. Those 'melodramatic prone' sequences, rather transpires beautifully as a pinnacle of romance.

The assistant director at the Madras talkies, Sanjana Krishnamoorthy's personal confidence oozes through her character 'Durga' as Poomaalai's daughter. Her bold, outspoken and sensible characterisation, strikes a contrast to her mother's, who is often seen cursing her husband's passion, for it doomed their lives and buried them in debts. I have my share of problems with the characterisation of Poomaalai's wife played by the bold Swasika. She is this strict anti-cricket soul, who is constantly curbing her husband from playing cricket, right from the opening sequence, where she is seen ploughing the pitch with her tractor. It does relate to the anger of all the mothers of the 'Indian gully cricket boys' who are worried about their son's lives being wasted on the highly competitive sport.

It resonates much with the mom character in 'Blue Star', who is trying to steer her sons away from the game. But the director there establishes a father character who insists that the game is not a mere waste of time, if taken seriously. He is seen to channelise his son's talent productively, by trying to acquire a job at ICF, where he worked, and is seen to apply for the same duly.

Swasika who plays Yashodhai, the wife of Poomaalai, in Lubber Pandhu, is constantly seen stern faced and iron fisted. She is seen brimming with love, cooking meat for her lover-turned husband to save it for him in a silver tiffin box and adorns a few smiles, in a couple of bus ride montages with Poomaalai. Except for these few sequences, she is mostly seen grumpy.

The promise that Yashodai insists her husband Poomaalai makes in front of God, that he will quit playing cricket, which he dupes, is a fun watch. In the latter half of the movie, Anbu is shown to express his magnanimity in making the team become 'inclusive' to welcome young talents, by wiping 'caste' out of the equation. The warmth of this reveal, seems to lose its significance, when Yashodhai, asks the duo Poomaalai and Anbu as the end credits role, to make the same promise of not to play cricket again.

The mood of the movie would have instilled hope in many youngsters, had Yashodhai, come to terms in acknowledging the passion and direct the duo to become better care takers of family too. Branding them players as unprincipled, good for nothing rogues, who would never be there for the family when needed, is stereotyping the societal youngsters at large, whose are left to compromise their passion for the game.

Being the wife of a surgeon, me and my daughter had many a times missed the presence of him, especially in times of need or important moments of our lives, as he would be busy operating elsewhere. Had the director made Yashodhai repent for the branding, had she spoken to Poomaalai about balancing his passion for the game and his bread winning career, her loudness, would have resulted purposefully.

Actor Vijayakanth's songs played to celebrate Poomaalai's cricket prowess, is a master stroke by the makers, as it not only exhibits their love for the actor, but also value adds Dinesh's character traits to that of the departed soul's. Categorizing people by coupling them with particular butchery, does fall under a self-branding exercise. Not spelling it out loud might be a subtlety decision and the makers could have steered clear from those labelling, as well.

Striking the right balance and the right chords creates magic, irrespective of few loose ends. 'Blue Star' stayed rigid in trying to document the 'pain' that plays spoil sport in 'Sports'. Whereas, 'Lubber Panthu' eases its stance in documenting the pain, by mellowing down the 'loud structure', which otherwise would have drawn attention to itself, ruining the very text, that was intended to be narrated. The difference is pretty much like Pa. Ranjith's and Mari Slevaraj's films, 'Blue Star' being from the former's production house.

 

Thangalaan

 2024, Tamil, Theatrical release, 7.6/10 IMDB, Directed by Pa. Ranjith

Published in Brardwaj Rangan's Movie Blog https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2024/08/17/readers-write-in-719-thangalaan-the-shaman/

An intelligently crafted oppression saga, backed by a committed team, strives to root back to the origin of 'sufferings'. The makers, convincingly arrive at a novel premise by synthesizing two wisdom systems- the palaeolithic 'Shamanism' and the fifth century 'Buddhism'. The narrative layers of Buddhist doctrine on caste, a personal agenda of the director, manages to come a full circle without much divergence, keeping the tonality in tact.

It is exhilarating to understand the mind space of Director Ranjith. He amalgamates wisdoms from two systems and interlinks them, to narrate a story of the oppressed, in a period film, with the Kolar Gold fields as its back drop. And he aptly calls it, 'Thangalaan' meaning 'Son of Gold'.

Thangalan played by the riveting actor Vikram, performs outstandingly the three narratives of his character. The Veppur villager with his wife and children in North Arcot, a fierce ancestor of his, and the fifth century climax reveal. The stories that were passed on by his ancestors about the sorceress guarding the village's gold ore, haunts him in his sleep and he almost wakes delusional. Yet Thangalaan passes it on to his children, as their bed time story.

Taking its origin from the Sanskrit word 'Shraman' which denotes a 'religious ascetic', or a 'holy wanderer', 'Shamans' are the world's first story tellers. They used stories to alleviate pain, to heal body, mind and 'spirit'. Shamans were instrumental in passing on culture to descendants and teaching both lore and law. Ranjith plays our Shaman, for he narrates Thangalaan's ancestor stories with gripping visuals and gory horror, of the sorceress 'Aarathi'

Semiotics of Buddhism in Ranjith's movies are nothing new, but the director chooses to dwell in depth this time, for it is the crux of Thangalaan's plot. Broadly speaking, Buddhism attempts to bring the followers to a similar state of consciousness that Buddha attained. It generally involves analyzing one's sufferings, to attain a state of awareness, and Ranjith leads us in to the world of Buddhism by doing just the same with his lead character. Thangalaan's land is grabbed and he is pushed to slavery. He is forced to accompany a British gold hunting team along with few friends of his. The hero is seen 'evaluating his sufferings' and braves to face his fear of the sorceress.

Thangalaan proceeds his journey, being persuaded by his own motto, 'Only those who dares to die, gets to live', but his eyes are constantly searching to 'see' the 'unseen' from the lore about spirits. As he walks the Elephant Hill path, in sync with his ancestor's gold hunt narrative, we viewers are left engrossed. The stories of the spirit begin to unfold for real, except the spirit of Aarathi is replaced with a Budhha's statue as evidence, and Ranjith beautifully marries Shamanism and Buddhism.

The director gives references of kings including Tipu Sultan, who weren't able to access the ore, as it proved dangerous owing to the reptile menace in the dry terrain and an 'unseen force' guarding the rock. In shamanic journey 'sound' is used as a vehicle for shifting awareness inward and Ranjith seems to represent a high pitch shrill sound of the sorceress, as a medium, so Thangalaan could be reminded of the responsibilities of his ancestors.

The sorceress story might very well be a spin off to restrict people from mining the ores and depleting the wealth that rightfully belong to the tribe, as simple as the phrase, in Tamil, 'poi sonna sami kanna kuthum' translates, 'if you lie, god will poke your eyes'. A tactic of insisting on a virtue by instilling fear in minds.

Ranjith chooses to narrate the guidance of the 'animal skin clad helping spirits' the very feature of shamanism, thus implying 'Aarathi' is a guiding spirit, who was misconceived to be evil. He also reiterates by spelling the Buddhist essence of the movie - when the cause of pain is identified, the 'art of detachment' from worldly needs, is the solution to end 'sufferings'.

Parvathy Thiruvothu as Gengammal playing Thangalaan's wife, is loud and loving. A mid aged mother of five, becomes a child herself when Thangalan buys blouses for the community's women. Ecstasy in the women, the reaffirmation they seek from their respective husbands on wearing the blouses, and the dance of pride with their blouses on - it is Ranjith showcasing his women like he did with his Selvi from Kaala, his Kumudhavalli from Kabali and his Malayamma from Saarpatta Parambarai.

Maalavika Mohanan plays Aarathi, the spirit who is primarily the antagonist. Her performance is quite convincing, opposite the quintessential Vikram. Had there been a powerful cast, the likes of Nayanthara or the original choice of the team, Rashmika Mandhanna, would the clash of the Titans, been more dreading, I wondered.

Pasupathi's role as a converted VaishnaviteGengupattar, is multi-dimensional and the actor aced it. But sadly, the character arc seemed suspended mid way, as the director limits the character's scope only for caste reference. Same goes for Hari Krishnan and Preeti Karan, playing the newly married. Both their characters trails all through the film but fails to connect to the viewers, as much as it should have. The screenplay becomes frenzied and one doesn't feel the pain of them falling prey to the Britisher's greed.

Daniel Caltagirone's character Lord Clement is pitched beautifully but ends in a haste midst the chaotic rush towards the end. The shocking change in the character's motive doesn’t make the impact it ought to have.

Vikram is an actor who surrenders to the role he plays and volunteers to add more facets to the character, but as Thangalaan, he sets a new bench mark for actors across the globe. Sporting an earthy native matted hair-do, his loinclothed toned legs, the keloid scars creeping from his fore head to his half shaven skull, the slushy body, deluded eyes with constant fear and an honest naivety in dialogue delivery, just loud enough for the sync sound microphones- Vikram 'births' Ranjith's 'Thangalaan' alive.

Hayao Miyazaki, an internationally acclaimed Japanese animator film maker known for his respect towards spirits of trees and woods, rivers and seas, says, "Call them Gods, Spirits, Nature or Environment. They are there if we know where to look, and their gifts for us are ready if we know how to ask. We have only to approach them as a child would, with open eyes and open hearts".

From Ferngully to Avatar, from the subdued Tamil movie Thane to the blockbuster Kannada movie Kantara, however small or big, we celebrated the spirits that intend to protect the tribes who were assigned to guard the environment. And Thangalaan is our very own version of the Japanese 'Kami' which means, deity, divinity or spirit. It is Ranjith's calling, to protect natural resources, adhering to the well-wishing guarding spirits. He infers to fight it out if need be and even if it means by sacrificing life, while doing it.

Tangalaan stitches his clothes, only to wear it back again, with exemplary pride. The clothes that he earned in respect from the British Lord, the ones that were purposefully torn in insult. Ranjith inches his revolt further forward with Thangalaan, in demanding respect for the oppressed, like he did with all his heroes, for 'perseverance is many short races one after the other'.