Imagi(ni)ng nine decades of MGR movies

Published in India Chapter of the International Federation of Film Critics

My article on Imagi(ni)ng nine decades of MGR movies

Puratchi Thalaivar, translates ‘Revolutionary Leader’, is the title given to the actor turned Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu, the first of its kind in the country, his roots being debated to be from today’s neighboring state of Kerala, Maruthur Gopalan Ramachandran, better known by his initials MGR.

When my mentor asked me write an article on this legendary hero, I was left with dilemma. To begin with I was fond of Sivaji Ganesan’s body of work, an actor who paralleled MGR’s timeline. I began watching the work of MGR on platforms, to see if the actor would make an impact now that I was revisiting his work chronologically. I sought my dad’s help, an avid movie goer, belonging to that era, to discuss what the actor MGR and his work meant to him as a teen and now as an eighty-three old.

MGR’s big screen career began nearly nine long decades ago and we have a Tamil film that released early this year, named ‘Vaa Vathiyaar’ translating ‘Come on Teacher’, ‘Vaathiyar’ being another adage that his fans used to address him. They considered him their mentor. The movie ‘Vaa Vathiyar’ is an ode to the legend, his charisma, his morally inspiring traits on and off-screen. The maker seems to have a vision of making MGR, the questioning conscience of every con-man’s. The very thought of a premise to celebrate MGR’s virtues in its crux, showcases the phenomenon that he WAS and still IS.

A drama troupe trainee MGR, had strived hard to be casted in roles in cinema, we read. Eventually he had managed to rise to a larger-than-life person, not just in reel-life but also in the real. He had sculpted his career by having writers write morally inspiring stories for him and every other technician in the production house, seems to have shouldered his vision. The lyricist’s words turned quotations, music composer’s songs became anthems, stunt choreographer’s movements propagated him as an ever-ready revolutionary by showcasing his disciplined fitness regimes and the costume designer’s colors symbolized his political affiliations.

Gandhian principled influencer who joined the political party DMK and later started his own party AIADMK, a believer turned rationalist, a Malayali Nair turned Tamilian Vellalar claiming his ancestor were Tamil, ruled the Tamilians for a decade and died when in power.

MGR apparently seems like he had directed himself in all kinds of dream roles in every film that he worked in, housing rebellious cruxes in almost all his films, except a very few, early on in his career. While cinema became a propaganda tool, slowly the movie going population were introduced to the philanthrope in the actor and they soon turned his political supporters. Crores of unpublicized charity amidst a pioneering politically acclaimed ‘mid-day meal’ scheme for school children in Tamilnadu, would remain his eternal identity in the state.

The actor’s acting career and his political career were almost parallel. It is said that he refused to act in a play named ‘Sivaji Kanda Hindu Samrajyam’ very early in his career, as he was reluctant to be associated himself with a radical Dravidian movement of that time. But ironically, in a span of just three odd decades he went on to start a new Dravidian party himself and become the chief minister. A news article reads that whenever there was a slump in MGR’s movie career, his political ideologies and affiliation gave his career a boost. Irrespective of what his strategy was, he gave unimaginable runs at the box office with his careful choice of genres, switching to the social cruxes from his rebellious knight-ship characters to keep pace with the audience’s expectations and his competitors.   

Breaking the fourth wall and acknowledging the audience seemed to me as MGR’s working pattern ever since he embodied the rebellious prototype. He intentionally seems to have broken the barrier between the fictional world and reality, as his character traits were often curated. From being an action hero in the 1950 ‘Mandhiri Kumari’ to an outlaw in the 1954 ‘Malaikallan’, a protector of the poor in 1958 ‘Naadodi Mannan’, a champion of social justice in the 1969 ‘Adimai Penn’, a social leader in 1969 ‘Nam Naadu’, to a protector of women in 1965 ‘Enga Veettu Pillai’, the moral idealist, had been watchful of his choices.

The actor has an innate blatant innocence that he transfers to all his characters. Dravidian ideologies when uttered by a fair skinned outsider, must have created an unimaginable magic on and off screen and the actor seems he was ‘true’ to both. The actor’s charisma not just elevated him as an actor but also as a human and that must have echoed in his real-life politics too making people grow fond of him.

He seems to have taken hints from his failed attempts as his movies bounced back at the box office right after every low buzz response. Movies seems to have become his campaigning grounds, eventually taking him closer to people in reality, as he was addressed, ‘Makkal Thilagam’, a people’s Chief minister.

A deliberate restriction on portraying morally weaker roles, as the actor was certain that cinema influenced society at large, had been often critiqued. Though the actor didn’t venture into exploring human complexities like his peer Sivaji Ganesan did, MGR’s energetic body language, his coy smiles, his onscreen ideologies, his on-screen naivety as a son and a lover, must have magnetized the masses of that era.

The actor’s roles were always straightforward and uncomplicated. Outsmarting powerful villains were often through simple disguises, as small as a mere mustache or a side beard and it seems to have become his cinematic tool to influence the masses through entertainment mode. The audience might have felt empowered and liberated themselves, as the actor hand-led them into forbidden places through his disguised character.

Common man raising above odds, political symbols brimming dialogues and welfare boosting songs seems to have become the template of the actor’s roles. His powerful dialogues had transformed into political speeches. A soft campaign indeed, looking directly at the eyes of the masses through the camera lenses. It must have been a tool stronger than what today’s social media could dream of, as the actor never broke his moral code ever.

The beauty was he never disrupted the story’s illusion and yet managed to create a niche to reveal his ‘own self’ where possible. The audience must have turned participants as he often fused fiction with reality. His sword fighting stunts with swift movements should have landed him as a macho personality in the hearts of young adults. They must have been wooed by his nationalist principles and patriotism, big time.  

The 1954 ‘Malaikallan’, a purest adaptation of the Robinhood template of the west, must have laid foundation to the people’s hero image for MGR. He plays a transformed thief protecting villagers from exploitation, and the makers showcase his agile swag in contrast to his lowered gaze out of respect around his mother in the climax. The unique social justice genre of MGR’s rightfully must have begun with this venture and it sure became a never dying template as many heroes had followed suit in making similar storied films to Malaikallan, right from the ‘Chandraleka’ fame R Ranjan’s ‘Neela Malai Thirudan’ to the super star Rajinikanth’s ‘Sivaji’ the Boss. ‘Ethanai kaalam than yemattruvaar intha naatille’ song, which briefly translates, ‘How long will they cheat us’, beautifully resonate with his social justice theme and emotionally targets the audience to join hands with Malai Kallan and there on MGR himself.

The voice against untouchability in the 1956 ‘Madurai Veeran’, must have been a riot among the audience as MGR represents the deeply rooted legendary folk story of a brave warrior who challenged tyranny. A story that speaks about caste dynamics and guardian deity named Madurai Veeran, is yet another fine choice to reach out to the masses and break record at the box office. The chieftain’s son born with an unlucky mark ends up in the desert, is rescued and named as Veeran (warrior) by a cobbler couple. As a grown adult when he saves the princess from drowning her uncle confronts the hero asking why he touched her. MGR, replies with his trademark chuckle saying, how could one save someone drowning without touching. A soldier asks him to stay at a distance as he is an untouchable. MGR’s sarcasm in his reply, - ‘You people have to change one day or the other’ indicating the context of the prevalent discrimination in the society at that time, is a fine example of how the screenplay confronted societal issues by using his character interacting with the masses, literally.

After his leading roles in ‘Rajakumaari’ and ‘Maruthanaattu Ilavarasi’, the 1957 movie ‘Mandhiri Kumari’, formerly a play by Mr. Karunanidhi based on the 10^th century Tamil Buddhist Epic Kundalakesi, casted MGR as a valiant army general. The screenplay and the story were the highlights, but MGR’s ‘good vs evil’ story did land him as an undeniable hero among his fans. The antagonist characters - Raja Guru’s son and his wife who is the minister’s daughter, seem super powerful than the army general’s. S. A. Natarajan playing the Raja Guru’s son, sure outdoes MGR’s character by playing a marauder, a dejected soul, ranting anti-social dialogues and to me it even reminded of Rajinikanth’s villain character ‘Parattai’ from ‘16 vayadhinele’. Also, the Minister’s daughter performed by Madhuri Devi is the one who finally gets to kill the villain, her marauding husband. Both these roles especially the Minister daughter, her redemption in becoming a Buddhist nun is a role that could easily over shadow the hero’s role. And the super hit song of this duo, ‘Vaarai nee vaarai’, again has nothing to do with the lead role of MGR’s. In fact, it is she who exonerates MGR’s character Veera Mohan, from the accusation that he attempted to kill the King.

In such a complex story with equally meaty roles to other actors, MGR challengingly manages to give an unforgettable performance. His duality portrayal of a warrior and a gentleman lover, his contrasting swift action amidst compassionate body language, his motivating speech to his soldiers, though the words belong to Karunanidhi, MGR’s contained anger adds beauty to his Army General’s role. His plea from the witness box to clear his name, without much pompous, the actor makes a mark, his presence felt and his voice heard, both to the courtiers in the movie and the audience in the theater.

Right after that, the 1958 ‘Naadodi Mannan’ movie’s dual role duly lands as a complete package as the actor turns director and producer himself, apparently to grab the attention of the audience in a way that he envisioned, maybe. Given the time frame, it seems like the actor’s independent agenda not just to pull the movie goers towards him but also to prove his mettle among the party carders. An outright entertainer, a template that again had paved way for many movies for decades across Indian languages, was critiqued as a pompous rhetoric by a few. Apart from the speculation of its intention at that time of MGR’s career, it sure must have set the stage for celebration and sent his audience crazy.

Saroja Devi’s debut as one of the lead ladies in ‘Naadodi Mannan’, seems to have laid foundation for the duo’s blockbuster classics that followed much later in both their career, such as ‘Padagotti’ and ‘Anbe Vaa’. The ‘Thoongathey Thambi’ song translating ‘do not sleep oh brother’, is so very popular as an aphorism. And the transformation of the look alike, shaving his beard to become the coronating king, is a textbook sequence that we would find in movies across decades later. The character’s mannerism of sniffing his nose does seem like a forceful trait, kind of autistic at times and an amateur director’s compulsion, but his make-believe tactic seems to have made him win hands down.

Though his moral standards restrict him from having more than one love interest, his philosophy broadly seems to imply, "I don't chase, I attract," highlighting a sense of self-worth and confidence that draws women naturally. The tweaks from the Prisoner of Zenda on which ‘Naadodi Manna’ was based on, involving a King’s look alike, after the swap, the character addresses his queen – ‘Sister’, a perfect example of the sensibilities of MGR’s moral code.

The 1964 movie ‘Thozhilali’ was centred around motor transport worker’s welfare. Slogan by the workers against the oppression of its owner, is duly stopped by MGR who plays the manager of the company, on accounts that ‘if not for such big companies and their owners, many of the workers many not had a livelihood to begin with’. MGR’s inclusive perspectives seems to stand out in every simple role of his, instilling positivity and reassurance in the common man’s inner thought. To invest the provident funds of drivers to begin their own cooperative bus services in the movie is bound to boost the morale of the audience - a sneak peek in to the actor’s future political manifesto on economic empowerment.

The actor’s character choices helped the audience look at issues that different sections of the masses were left to tackle, as he came full circle in respecting folks from all walks of life. The costal district was duly represented in his outing named ‘Padagotti’ translating boatsman, in 1964. He portrays a fisherman and deals with the politics of two fishermen groups. The story templates itself, as MGR a head of one group, falls in love with the daughter of the other group’s head, whereas the antagonist Nambiar wants to marry her. But the evergreen ‘Thottal Poo Malarum’ song that explores the theme of intimacy and touch, its catchy visuals along with trendy cinematography, the actor’s favorites ‘disguise’ tool, and a brave female lead character, made the movie an unmatched experience.

Silambama, the Tamil martial art, gave the title ‘guardian of culture’ to MGR, as he incorporated it in every social reform crux of his. His fitness discipline became popular and in support of his onscreen ‘Vaathiyar’ persona. The actor’s fluid movements and quick foot work are poetically inspiring, till date.

MGR’s filmography was soaring with back-to-back reformative movies set in different backdrops and year 1965 release ‘Enga Veetu Pillai’ must have been the biggest Pongal treat, an entertainer for any movie goer irrespective of their political affiliation. MGR’s dual role movies are many, especially the timid vs heroic ones. But this one seemed to have given him superstardom, especially the iconic whiplashing song with the DMK party colored attire, uttering politically relevant lyrics, ‘Naan aanaiyittal, Adhu nadanthu vittal, Ingu ezhaigal, Vethanai padamaatar’, that pretty much translates a political opening speech, yet again breaking the fourth wall and communicate to the voting public, promising that- ‘If I command, the poor wouldn’t have to go through hardship’. Call it a propaganda tool in an era of cinema being the sole medium of direct visual dialogue with the masses. The actor’s aura magically was audience driven, as they were reluctant to believe that he was a ‘performing artist’ and instead saw him a ‘true liberator’ set to redeem them.

The second half of the same year saw another contrasting sword-fighting blockbuster ‘Aayirathil Oruvan’, and the people saw the return of the swashbuckler template of the silent era, except this movie was more than the mere damsel in distress kind. The rebel hero’s noble premise included slavery, dictatorship and forced piracy. A pirate film might have been a dream-project and when it was associated with leading the slaves to fight for their rights in a period era, it sure must have been an added bonus. The movie had made yet another record as people were revisiting the era of their ‘sword fighting’ MGR. The iconic songs, rebellious crux in a pirate film backdrop, his much-loved villain combo with M.N. Nambiyar as the antagonist, should have made his already enthusiastic fanbase, revolutionized.

The social reformer in MGR must have made him seek plots for his movies, systematically. The political inclination must have driven him to address manifesto issues and ‘Vivasayi’ translating ‘Farmer’ in 1967 is a significant premise that spoke about the agrarian tension. ‘Kudiirundha Koil’ in 1968 a remake of China town, sported a twin, tasked to apprehend his long-lost criminal brother, which aptly fell in to the ‘conscience questioning’ moral template of the actor’s.

The 1969 Telugu remake ‘Nam Naadu’, a fight against corruption plot, set in its contemporary time, a go to template for any hero with huge fan base, must have been in the check list for the doyen. While the plot was a borrowed one, the addition of the song, ‘Nalla Perai Vaanga Vendum pillaigale’, translating, ‘Children, you should earn a good name’, soon turned what is called a ‘paappa paattu’, a rhyme, for school going children and still remains afresh after five odd decades after its release, as it resonates at many modern-day schools cultural.

When an actor is adored by the masses, children begin to mimic their parents, then mimic the hero that the parents are fond of, until that hero is sown into the child’s memory cells, converting the children to become followers of tomorrow, turning doyens to leaders. Is that how it happens, I wondered.

A Labour-day release the same year in 1969, ironically titled ‘Adimai Penn’ a historical action drama, had all the virtues to become a MGR film, starting from the grandeur as it was his home production, his pairing with his ‘Aayirathil Oruvan’ heroine Jayalalitha, return to an authentic and crowd pleasing historic premise, a desi inspiration of the west’s Tarzan series in the 1960s and a slavery premise for the emerging leader who might have been steadily marching towards becoming a leader himself in the real life. The spine straightening sequence in the movie after the captured ‘hunchback’ prince was left to live in a low ceiling prison cell, should be a frame that would remain in the eyes of the masses forever. It aptly symbolizes the liberation of the under privileged and motivate them to stand ‘tall’ in the fight against oppression. The borrowed plot sequence of a mother of a twin, tied down by iron shackles by the evil uncle, from the ancient Greek mythology, Antiope, the very visual aid emphasises slavery at its best, went on to become an iconic plot point nearly five decades later for the blockbuster movie ‘Bahubali’.

The next backdrop to explore for the 54-year-old actor at that time, was to celebrate the integrity and the righteousness of the masses of the Rikshaw pulling community in the year 1971’s ‘Rikshakaran’. The movie’s crux was to fight the corrupt judiciary but the entertainment value should have multiplied by casting a new face Manjula opposite him in those glittery dreamy songs. While the song “Ange Siripavargal Sirikattum”, translating ‘let people laugh’, was for the political masses, the ‘Azhagiya Tamizh Magal’, translating ‘beautiful Tamil daughter’, was for the fantasy loving cinema followers and surprisingly both were written by the legendary poet Vaali and sung by TM Soundarrajan. Two versatile people who seems to have had a large role in shaping the actor’s ‘messiah of the poor’ image as the former penned the lyrics in concurrence to the political situations and ideologies and the latter’s voice mesmerised the masses matching MGR’s charisma. Working together in sequence with MS Vishwanathan’s magical tunes, MGR was elevated to a protector status, yet staying close to the common man.  

The 1973 ‘Ulagam Suttrum Vaaliban’, a year after the actor floating his own political party after being expelled from DMK, chooses a global backdrop as the hero voluntarily shifts from being a mere protector of the masses to becoming a ‘protector of mankind’. For this as the title translates, he needs to trot the globe and he does, in this second directorial venture in his home production. The dual hero subject, a scientist and a CBCID, intensifies the story with juicy sequences in this sci fi genre, giving the audience a grand reason to throng to the cinema halls. But it all begins only after duly crediting the leaders in the opening credits like Nehru, Sashtri and Annadurai with clips of their real-life speeches on the need of a ‘scientific rationale’ for the betterment of human race.

All of MGR’s character have a list of ‘must have traits, including endorser of humanity, an advocate of human rights, prioritizing community’s welfare over personal gain, commitment to the under privileged. And this movie, ups those elements along with an intriguing screenplay that must have left the audience in awe.

Noteworthy films like ‘Urimai Kural’ (Voice for rights) to ‘Uzhaikkum Karangal’ (Toiling hands) were all aimed to restore the faith in tomorrow’s leader, right from the title choices to female leads to character’s messiah arcs. By then, the new wave in Tamil cinema had started echoing independent voices and social realism with less hero centric narratives and broke the formulaic writing, through story driven nuanced plots, the birth of the so-called ‘modern cinema’. And by then, MGR’s newly found party shifted its focus to larger canvas and ventured in to reality, uplifting and empowering women, children and the have nots.

The debate is an ongoing one whether it was the movies that helped the doyen to become a real-life hero, a leader, or if it was the other way around. There are several articles that proclaim that the actor used the party’s affinity to up his film career. But the actor is an undeniable phenomenon, an inevitable chapter of Indian cinema, who made news, who created history, who continues to be used as an icon to gain political milage. And he seems to live in the hearts of millions, for he is the hero that each one in the audience wished to become, someday. A mentor to many, a hero to many and an ‘avenger kind super hero’ to the likes of the film maker Nalan Kumarasamy who made the movie ‘Vaa Vaathiyar’.

A well-off looking, fourteen-year-old boy who had come to the Jan 2026 movie ‘Vaa Vaathiyar’ alone, as his parents were in the adjacent theatre watching 2026 Parasakthi, was seated next to us. The movie’s premise houses a grandpa’s attempt to mentor his grandson, through emphasising the kind of moralistic person, MGR and his film characters were. When I asked the teen boy why he had come to see this movie and not go to watch the other movie with his parents. He said, ‘I always belong to AIADMK and I wanted to be truthful by watching this movie rather that what looks like a DMK movie’. I was speechless for a while and then asked who his dad was and he said his dad works for the IT wing for the AIADMK party.

Family upbringing did make the child affiliate himself with the party I silently thought. On the contrary, MGR, an epitome of integrity, could that have influenced the child? I wasn’t sure.

Maybe, gen alphas can themselves mimic their favourite hero, until that very hero is sown in their memory, paving way to turn doyens to leaders of tomorrow. We will have to wait for another decade to see if they can make yet another actor their leader and then their chief minister, as there are quite a few in the making, in this part of the country.

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'.