Monday, August 4, 2025

Polity, Propaganda and Parasakth

 Polity, Propaganda and Parasakth


                                            

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reference:

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

 

Meiyazhagan 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Ponman

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lubber Pandhu

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Thangalaan

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Imagi(ni)ng nine decades of MGR movies

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