Kamba Ramayanam @ Golden Gates and Emerald Valley Schools, Salem

The Epic Saga, Kamba Ramayanam, a text renowned for its use of skillful poetic devices in its 10000 odd verses, is a pride of every Tamil across the globe. Any Tamil enthusiast would find themselves in deeper dilemma as to what needs to be highlighted and what could be left behind, as there are too much to tell in too little a time. To precisely condense it into a two hour stage show is a mammoth task and the writer-director just got it right.  

To sow the essence of Ramayana among our 'degenerative era' of social media, speaks for the noble vision and undying passion of this individual Mrs. Meena Sethu, the screenplay writer and director of the play, who prologues a dedication to her dad in a video note. Her note highlighting a few interesting cultural comparison of the 2000 year old Valmiki's Ramayana versus the 800 year old Kamba Ramayanam, did make the audience inquisitive to spot those sequences during the play.

More than 400 children, big to tiny tots, performing this magnum opus stage show, in a school auditorium, with multiple actors playing the lead roles in segments, needs immense coordination and cooperation. Their enthusiastic performance echoed sheer commitment in parallel to dedicated behind-curtain hardships. The stagehands directed by an efficient stage manager, rendered a seamless transitions with befitting onstage finesse. Prop mastery, multi leveled stage setup and the wide LED screens, added to the grandeur in bringing the epic to life. 

The play begins with Kambar in action writing his versus on the left stage and on the right the director chooses to give a glimpse of what is in store for the next 2 hours - Rama Lakshmana Sita with Hanuman, a portrait-like live imagery. It seemed to have transcended to the stage, straight from many of our pooja rooms, beautifully coming alive, involuntarily making a few in the audience to join their hands in prayer and the rest to drop their jaws in awe. The teaser of the visual extravaganza in store, sets the mood right and the play begins with the very famous and much heard 'Puthra Kameshti Yaga'. 

The detailing in every act, is sure to remind the story-tellers from each of our childhood days and the source materials that introduced these live characters to us. For me it was the 1987 Doordharshan's Ramanand Sagar's Ramayan. It was magical then, and to revisit those emotional memories after nearly four decades, was equally magical and synced even better, now that I had began to explore the Sanskrit scriptures in an attempt to understand Ramayana on my own. 

I have had a couple of opportunities in the past to visit the event 'Kamban Vizha,' organized by the eight decade old Kamban Kazhagam, a dedicated society that celebrates the poetic author Kambar. The text's effective usage of similes and metaphors that evoke deeper emotions, had inspired me then. But for reasons unknown, the children's naive performance through narration and recitals, accompanied by the right technological support, questioned me for not having attempted to read Kambar's adaptations of the epic, all these days.

The joy of art and music doubles when it is children who are performing. A few performance were totally captivating and a few magically mesmerizing. The one-liner that we Tamils are very familiar with, thanks to the movie industry that almost exploited this particular phrase in all weird context possible - 'Annalum Nokkinaal, Avalum Nokkinaal, when played by young Rama on stage, surprisingly brought the true essence of the author's. 

The actor's graceful slow paced walk indicated he couldn't move any faster after his eyes caught Sita's. The measured emotions, the spot light following him as his gaze meets young Sita's on the high rise, he walking to the very end of the stage, unable to take his eyes off hers- an illustrative poetic justification indeed. 

Sita's abduction was yet another act that left the audience engrossed. Sita and both the hermit Ravana and his real villainous self, were such solid realistic portrayals. Mrs. Meena's prologue on comparison of the abduction incident in both Valmiki's and Kamban's enabled the audience appreciate Ravana's peacock like Pushpak Vimana lifting Sita, along with her hut and a part of earth with it, rather than any direct physical contact unlike the Valmiki's version. 

Hanuman meeting Sita was staged beautifully and emotions were spot on as the petite Hanuman explained Sita about himself and updated her on Rama's state. The actor playing Sita in the Ashoka Vanam rendered a balanced and controlled performance. Her weakened body language made the audience feel the pain behind her doomed state of mind and her inner conflicts. The dialogues were precise and just apt. Ravana's Darbar stood out as both the props and the digital back drop gave the eerie feel as the actor outstandingly played the merciless Ravana, while he was discussing the course of events with his courtesans.  

Ram Sethu being built across the sea, by a sea of monkeys on stage, was blissful and thoroughly enjoyed the monkey clan building the bridge. Also adored their enthusiasm on the battle field later on. Sita emerging unscathed from the fire test was depicted beautifully and even believed to have witnessed a real fire from the Yajna Shala onstage! Lord Agni coming out from the same chamber within seconds later, enhanced the drama, making the audience suspend their disbeliefs and become one with Sita during her fire trail. 

Sensitive sequences of Rama's rejection, Sita asking Lakshmana to light a fire, Agni Devan attesting Sita's purity, have been written with utmost care, duly clarifying why Rama was silent while Sita walks through fire. 

Dasharath from heaven emphasizes Sita's unbroken greatness, praises Rama and Sita and gives them his blessings. The dialogues where King Dasharath 'apologizes' to Sita, for the fire walk, further adding that Rama did it merely to quell public doubts, didn't work for me as it should have. Had Rama spoken those words in clarity himself or had the narrator uttered Kamban's words instead, it would have worked better, I thought. Nevertheless, it served a profound closure to the most debated fire walk of Sita's. And again I found that later retellings and some upa puranic traditions make Dasharath more apologetic towards Sita. The tone in Kamba Ramayana is reverence and consolation and not a direct apology.  

The play came a full circle with Rama's pattabishekam, in narrating the lengthy story in an effective concise version.  But, wished the play also touched upon, what made Rama the greatest human of all time, that he is worshipped as a role model for thousands of years - his love for the people and world, his mercy and concern for common people, his duality as God and human, his unwavering righteousness, his courage and valor. But again, one shouldn't ignore that it is a school play and it cannot go anywhere near emphasizing anything that might be interpreted as religious indicator, especially when the play is being staged in an educational premise. 

The music evoked emotions and was delighted when I heard that actual verses of Kambar were composed into songs by Mr. Camillus and were sung by Golden Gates students fifteen years back. The cinematic back ground score lingered long after I left the auditorium. The dialogues and narration were kept simple for it to relate to many and so were the entertaining dance performance by vibrantly dressed children, yet another key factor for the audience to stay engaged. 

 

As the curtains closed with the divine Ramar Patttabishekam backdrop, the length and breadth of the three stages filled with performers, taking a seated bow - A portrait to cherish for their life time and ours! As I witnessed numerous Ramas and Sitas in various age groups and different costumes, my heart swell in content, as the play not only celebrated the immortal epic but also showcased the supportive parents and children who made Mrs. Meena's vision come true - 'To ensure that this scripture is passed down through generations'. 

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

 

 

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.   

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.

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'.  

 

Wishful Maharaja

2024, Tamil, Theatrical release, IMDB 8.6/10, Directed by Nithilan Saminathan

Following views of mine on the movie has been published in Baradwaj Rangan's Movie Blog on 21st June 2024

https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2024/06/21/readers-write-in-703-wishful-maharaja/

A complex narration of an average person's tale, told with conviction, beautifully concurs a parallel story to catch the audience by surprise. Director Nithilan showcases his narrative prowess through the overlapping plot points and handles the ensemble's individual arcs largely, except for couple of futile female characters. The compromise in exploring the mind space of the lead roles in view of keeping the suspense and non-linear narrative intact, let's the narration down in places.

The director chooses to narrate the story of actor Vijay Sethupathi's title character, keeping in dark his true intentions, up until the interval block. A grim-faced man who is adamant of giving all things best to his daughter, be it sports shoes or an apology from the school principal who had mistakenly accuses her.

I couldn't help being reminded of a similar sequence, a school backdrop in the movie 'Chithha'. Both the situations translated similar to me even though the essence were in complete contrast. In Chithha, on knowing that his niece did commit the mistake, actor Siddarth, the uncle would change her school instead of giving an apology letter. Both men are shown adamant, demanding that the child is given due respect. Here Vijay Sethupathi holds adamantly on to the grill till the ceiling debris down demanding the principal to apologize and there Siddarth adamantly moves his niece from an environment where she might be stigmatized. The latter composition, seemed to have blossomed organically while the former was loudly attention seeking. The director not only establishes how much the child means to Vijay Sethupathi but also seems to build a firewall for the actor's actions that are to follow.

In Chithha, when actor Sidharth tries to revenge his niece's molester, as audience we were left to hope that someone would stop him, so he doesn't become a murderer. But here, owing to the non-linear suspense, not knowing the trauma of his and his daughter's, when Vijay Sethupathi decapitates someone, it doesn't draw the due sympathy for the griever. From the viewer's perspective I was kind of left in lurch, not knowing whether to condemn or commend the actor's deeds.  

The brilliant plot overlapping on timelines works flawlessly. The quest, at the police station to find the whereabouts of 'Lakshmi', the personified 'dustbin' that saved Vijay's 'apparent' infant daughter (irrespective of the master climax twist), reminds of VJS's 'Naduvula Konjam Pakkam Kaanom' repetitive episodes. The repetitiveness would not have been so forceful had there been enough prologue to the character's trait, I wondered. The laughter intended to dodge the viewers off the suspense, does provide comic relief, but only superficially, as it stalls the momentum of the serious story that awaits to transpire.

Anurag Kashyap's performance in 'Imaikka nodigal' was much spoken about, as the character was seen to challenge the protagonist and her team by hampering and trailing their investigations from scene one. On the contrary in 'Por Thozhil' the protagonist was revealed much later just before the interval block. And in 'Ratsasan' the antagonist's story is not revealed much later towards the last third of the movie. All the three antagonist's characters work brilliantly even though their entry into story is differently placed.

In Maharaja, the character Selvam played by Anurag is placed on the parallel story as antagonist and Vijay Sethupathi is on a different trail for a 'dustbin'. By the time the two stories concur on revealing parts of the suspense, the darkness over the motive of the lead actor doesn't pay off as much as it was intended. The reveal of overlapping knots sweeps the awe factor, rather. The reveal was indeed path breaking but the intensity that the other three antagonists in the movies mentioned earlier had, Anurag's character Selvam couldn't emulate.

And yet again in the climax suspense, the reveal was breathtaking and Vijay Sethupathi's reaction on seeing Anurag was priceless. It beautifully reminded the 'gasp' that Kavin's character in the movie 'Star' had when he was given his newborn after the death of his wife. But the final reveal made me wonder if the director had captured enough of the benevolence of the character 'Maharaja' himself, to substantiate the action of Vijay Sethupathi raising 'the baby', that was saved by the fall of the 'Dustbin' Lakshmi.

Except for the incident that Vijay goes to give the baby's chain to the customer Anurag, who had left it accidentally in the former's barber shop, we are not given the prologue of his traits. Other than evident facts that he lives with his daughter far away from the hustle of the town, shares a strong bond with her, is supportive of her passion and is adamant, we are forbidden to enter the mental space of the character, owing to maintain the 'suspense' the screenplay houses.

But the final reveal makes one retrospect the reason behind the grim, non-expressive face of actor Vijay's, all through the movie and the kind of emotions that would have driven him to avenge the way he did. The brave adolescent girl wanting to confront the offenders was super commendable but I was filled with nostalgia, recollecting 'Gargi'. The climax left me walk home with memories of ASI Vinod Kumar, of the movie 'Iratta', played by the fantastic Joju George.

Abirami plays the antagonist’s wife. Her sub-urban dialogue delivery, casual body language, motherly instincts and love talks with her husband doesn't translate the script's depth onscreen, as the innate nativeness went missing in Anurag's vague counter reactions. Indigenousness in a script makes the visuals more profound and I was left to long, thinking of the bond between the characters of Kalaiyarasan and Riythvika from the 2014 movie 'Madras'.

The bars were set high for the director after his debut feature film 'Kurangu Bommai' and while Maharaja doesn't let him down, it doesn't set the bar at a new height, either. Vijay Sethupathi’s passion for the craft, lets him dwell into the mind space of his characters and he chooses intentionally to act restrained in ‘Maharaja’. But sadly, his sketchy scheme, made more sense, retrospectively, much after the end credits rolled.

Lover

 Lover

2024, Tamil, Theatrical Release, 7.5/10 IMDB, Directed by Prabhu Ram Vyas

A honest and mature capture of the most painful 'moving on' phase of an intense couple's relationship. The subtlety in identifying the root of toxicity in a relationship, plays to the strength of the movie. The committed performances of the lead and supporting characters make it a 'life lesson' for the 'lost-lot' who refuses to 'move on'.

Actor Manikandan, is convincingly the face of alternative cinema in Tamil in the coming years, if he continues to pick similar work. From Varanam Aayirum, to Vinnai Thaandi Varuvaya, Nee thane en pon vasantham, Mayakkam enna, Premam, the industry has witnessed the world of the so-called 'soup boys' in all possible combinations. While these movies addressed the 'moving on' phase as a part of an entire arc of 'falling in love' leading up to 'failure in love', director Prabhuram Vyas, interestingly opens the movie with an intention of a tutorial on the coping mechanism in love failure.

The phenomena of 'Love' and its expression has evolved with time, and so has the pain on it's failure. The director rightly taps the need for better strategies to reduce unpleasant emotions in the process of 'moving on'. He does all of it beautifully, in a non-preachy tone. Solution driven ventures are the ones that will be talked about, longer. The solutions that 'Lover' addresses are almost subliminal. It is sure to strike the right chord with the gen Z, who aren't ears for anything that slightly echoes 'advice'.

'Possessiveness in Love' - the mundane premise, turns precious, when the realization comes from the male lead in the last leg of the movie. And the director also chooses to signify how the female lead's 'care' turns a 'nag', ultimately killing the spirit of male's individuality and his life choices.

Manikandan's disturbed facial expressions throughout, vanishes when he disembarks the chaotic volatile relationship vehicle. He then boards a journey of his own doing what he confidently dreamed all along. The director easily establishes that, the path Manikanda's character threaded before gaining this clarity, was not merely a selfish one. Contrary to the female lead's accusation that Arun was selfish, the director proves his was rather a 'cry for help' from within, that spurted out venomously in Arun's deeds and words.

Director Prabhu Ram's elaborate sequences emphasizing on the volatility of the relationship, as the couple drift apart, does become repetitive after a point. But, that is the true essence of the story. The repetitive pain symbolizes the painful process of tearing apart two individuals, who had entangled themselves in the process of making a combined future for themselves. And the toil comes to an end, almost out-of-the blue. The timing is a surprise, as the viewers are to an extend convinced that the couple, might be better off if they stay together, come what may. Ironically that is the thought process of an outsider in real life, when we witness a couple's separation, either before marriage or be it after marriage in divorce.

Prabhu Ram, consistently narrates Manikandan's mom's story in parallel and the female lead, Gouri Priya aptly compares her plight to his mom's. And that miraculously acts an awakening slap over Manikandan's insecurity-driven obsession.

The brief realization path of Manikanda's, houses a random mention of 'alcohol' being the cause for his changing behavioral pattern. And this suffices in emphasizing, the sole purpose, of the film. The fear in Gouri's eyes and the battle she fights within, paints an outlook on the aftermath of 'modern love'. The director excels as he keeps 'lust' away from the equation and the supporting characters are true to their roles as well. They truly end up being 'supportive' to the lead pair in helping them realize that their paths have drifted beyond repair.

Gouri's colleague Madan's character, played by 'Livin' fame Kanna Ravi, is etched beautifully. The dialogue where he admits his shortcoming in his previous relationship and how he is cautious in attempting a new one, is enriching. When the couple finally learn the art of 'mutually moving on', the screenplay poetically blends with their life choices without 'letting go' of the care for each other.

Gouri's character Divya manages to balance the surf board fearlessly and there is not much fear in her eyes when she meets Arun again. Manikandan's character Arun also manages to greet Divya, with utmost calm when he meets her after a two year breakup hiatus. Their 6 year long relationship finally earns the 'mutual respect' it had lacked all along. It opens a hatred-less new beginning, for the both individual. Love is all about 'growing up' as the end credits quote James baldwin.

Jigarthanda DoubleX

 Jigarthanda DoubleX

2023, Tamil, 8.4/10 IMDB, Directed by Kathik Subbaraj

The ace narrator's un-compromised screenplay, echoes his passion for art and his angst against the party politics behind tribal plundering. In an apparent 'prequel' of the 2014 Jigarthanda, the Director Karthik Subbaraj attempts to walk a similar path, and succeeds. The monotony is neutralized as the movie explores the director's personal experience on 'How Art Chose Him'.

Jigarthanda's template of 'Art' convincing an 'Offender' to change his ways, is widely the template in Double X as well. The director unveils multiple layers of the story one after the other. The illustrations of how destiny pulls people in to the 'world of art' making them creators and performers, is a striking parallel to the Director's real life experience of becoming a director himself, and this makes Double X even more special.

The Director, holds the viewers by their hands and walks them into the world of his well-rounded characters, establishing his premise in a steady pace. He then slowly makes the audience emotionally hooked to the characters, through his seamless narrative skills. It is as magical as our granny stories, which would start off simple, but end up mending us, by emphasizing on ethical and moral high grounds.

The director establishes his characters and their complex back story with no hurry whatsoever. The intersection of the two pivotal character arcs are placed with a backdrop of a gangster turned actor, auditioning directors for his debut venture. It is a striking parallel to the 'competitive show' for aspiring directors, 'Nalaya Iyakkunar', (meaning 'Tomorrow's Director's) through which Karthik Subbaraj identified himself as a director to the world of art.

The 'meta' narrative - 'cinema about cinema', is an interesting premise, similar to that of Jigarthanda, but this is meta, in more than one way.

• Actor Clint Eastwood while shooting for his film, in a tribal village in Madurai, supposedly names the young hero Alliyan as Alliyus Ceaser. He also gifts Alliyus, a 8mm camera, which Alliyus believes to be a gun (a metaphoric weapon).
• The director subtly substitutes the slogan, 'Pen is mightier than sword' of the 90's Tamil movies with 'Cinema, is the most powerful weapon'.
• The name of the cinema hall, 'Kilities's talkies' (a colloquial Tamil word to mock someone as 'the all-knowing'), interestingly rhymes Clint Eastwood's name, when pronounced in a local Tamil dialect.
• The cinema hall, only screens Clint Eastwood's movies, for Allius Ceaser's private watch, where he plots all his major executions.
• Alliyus's dark complexion is mocked as unfit for silver screen but the then dark-skinned debut of actor Rajinikanth is called out, saying it is rumoured that Rajini is going to make it big in Tamil industry.

The movie is high on 'meta', in gestures, dialogues and even majority of the plot points are driven by it. For instance, rewriting the purpose of the hero's life, so it could be captured as an interesting second half in his biopic movie.

Apart from interestingly written character arcs of individuals, the director uses detailed narration to untangle the plot knots in a decisive pattern, to settle issues and arrive at a definite result. The prime characters are established with an elaborate backdrop. The two protagonists, Alliyus and Kiruban played by Ragava Lawrence and S J Surya respectively, are backed by detailed visual stories. This enables the viewers to set foot into their worlds, and when the two characters meet, the viewers are amply acquainted with their purpose of life. Hence, the director's intention transpires beautifully onscreen.

Nimisha Sajayan, plays a strong character, Malaiarasi, who is in fact the voice of the director. She is the first voice to reiterate the director's vision onscreen, by portraying 'cinema' as a 'weapon', if used wisely. Her bold performance, does justice to the powerful writing.

Sub plots are many, but they all effectively converge to become the 'sole purpose' of the narration. Karthik Subbaraj's previous works are known for luring the audience, as to who the real antagonist is, what the primary hostility is, from where it all starts or contrarily, where it all ends. In Double X, Karthik captivates the audience, by giving the spiteful elephant poacher angle, a political game's distortion.

Critically acclaimed tribal plundering scripts are many, few of which were the well-received kind like 'Kantara' and few other beautifully made works like, 'Thaen', which had gone sadly unnoticed. But Karthik's meta world, lights the premise vibrantly.

Karthik duly hooks the audience, playing the well-crafted screenplay, to his strength. He spins it seamlessly in the right direction, tooling it to convey his true emotion as a film maker. The emotions that he tried conveying in 'Iraivi' and 'Jigarthanda', extends in Double X. Music Director Santhosh Narayanan and Cinematographer Tirru adds energy and excitement to the narration, in the process, elevates the movie watching experience. The rustic lighting, the camera movements capturing the face-offs of the two heroes and the poaching sequences with the spirit of the revenging elephant in the backdrop, encapsulates the director's thoughts, through intricate visual compositions.

Mimicking the soul of Jigarthanda, in Double X, works poetically. The director personifies 'ART' as the 'hero' of his screenplay, and exhibits adequate on-screen mass moments to the art form- 'CINEMA'. The film fraternity's nostalgia is sure to make the Director's work an inevitable chapter, in the history of Tamil cinema. Even though the excitement of witnessing a novel premise, like the experience of watching Jigarthanda in the year 2014, is missing, Double X manages to remain a 'tribute-worthy' prequel.