On Rathinirvedam, published in The Hindu Metroplus on June 18
By Prema Manmadhan
As I entered the multiplex screening room, all eyes followed me to my seat somewhere in the middle. Wondering if I had forgotten some part of my attire, I looked around stealthily and suddenly, there was a Eureka moment. I was the only female in the packed cinema on the first day first show to see the remake of ‘Rathinirvedam'!
I realised that even in a multiplex, catcalls can happen.
The Bharathan-Padmarajan movie of the late seventies was BOLD in that age, when soft porn sold. But this was not soft porn. It dealt boldly with a topic not publicly discussed, that Padmarajan wrote sensitively about and Bharathan made intelligently.
Comparisons
The new ‘Rathinirvedam,' under the banner of Revathi Kalamandir, is directed by T. K. Rajeevkumar. Suresh Kumar (the man behind Revathy Kalamandir) also produced ‘Neelathamara', a remake, which Lal Jose directed. But its script was rewritten by MT to include the present too.
Comparisons are always unwelcome, yet, looking at what was a topical film in 1978, ‘Rathinirvedam', which is today, a period film, can be interesting.
‘Rathinirvedam' is P.Padmarajan's script all over again, with very few changes in the dialogues: the locale has been shifted from the hilly areas to the plains. One crucial change is that the young adolescent, played by Krishnachandran, with a tell tale moustache, and shorts, has changed to a young man, wearing either a ‘mundu' or trousers, whose clean shaven face gives away his age.
While Krishnachandran's new discoveries of life and the sexual awakening in his mind looked natural, for a chap who is older, that is, Sreejith, (though he gives of his best) it hardly looks natural. The simple reason is that in the script that Padmarajan wrote, the boy is younger, adventurous adolescence personified. That's why. All those capers that the boy gets involved in, is natural for a boy that age, but looks strange in an older guy.
Svelte Shwetha
A calendar in the hero (Sreejith Vijay) Pappu's room of the Dreamgirl, Hema Malini, pronounces the period loud. The sepia tinted credits, along with a handwritten letter on the sidelines, are a great opener. Shwetha Menon, svelte and big built, with lovely long hair, too thick to be realistic, has the come hither look of ‘Rathi Chechi' but her body language is urban and the dialogue delivery is not realistic. Cut to the first ‘Rathinirvedam' and Jayabharathi's ‘naadan' beauty, her natural behaviour and dialogue delivery. The half sari on Jayabharathi looked lovely, while on Shwetha, it is more of an appendage.
The Central Travancore dialect is best spoken by Shobha Mohan who takes the role of Pappu's mother, and of course KPAC Lalitha. She used to take a cameo role in most of her husband's films and played the hero's aunt then. In the new version, she plays the heroine's mother. She is the only artiste featuring in both.
Coming to the crux of the film: the climax that made the headlines then. In an age when the Net had not taken over our lives, it was a draw for young men of all shades. These scenes were crisply picturised, with emotions dominating. The pain in Jayabharathi's face tore your heart. In the new one, the scenes linger longer, but the result is not the same. Sreejith's performance in the last scene, after the climax, deserves much credit.
Padmarajan's script is tight and every dialogue and scene has a reason. Editing out some scenes and dialogues to shorten the movie will only harm the total effect. For instance, there is a drama scene. After that an incident happens, which plays a big role in how the hero's mind works later. This is edited out here in the new version.
The songs could have been better placed in the film. One is still awaiting T K Rajeevkumar's streak of brilliance in ‘Kannezhuthi Pottum Thottu' to recur.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Priyanandanan making films that matter
Published in Metroplus, Kochi dated May 12
By PREMA MANMADHAN
In the entertainment industry, what happens if every movie that is released is slapstick? Or, serious tragedies, or issue-based ones, one after another? Or cloying romance, in a line? Yes, we would all get bored.
So every movie has space, as everyone wants a mixed entertainment experience. The different genre of Priyanandanan's fourth directorial venture, ‘Bhakthajanangalude Sraddhakku' gets into an interesting bracket. It's a satire, the parallels not very difficult to gauge.
Burning issue
Two burning issues that rock Kerala are locked into ‘Bhakthajanangalude Sraddhakku'. One is the trend to build empires around godmen and godwomen and the other, the problem of alcoholism, and how lives are ruined. Intertwined with these two topical issues is the global issue of corruption, which plays a side role in the movie.
Priyanandanan tells it straight, there are no sub-plots to distract you. Neither is the narrative made complex by flashbacks or incomprehensible cinematic grammar. Why this subject? Says Priyanandanan, “This fad of going behind godmen is something that's happening all over Kerala and I felt the masses needed to be told about the goings on inside these institutionalised places, and the misconceptions, whatever the religion. Piety is something very different. What better way to drive home this point than cinema?”
Religion and complications that develop in connection with it seem to dog Priyanandanan's movies. In ‘Sufi Paranja Katha', his last film, it was a case of a woman married to a man from a different religion and the role played by faith, inculcated at an early age into a person. In ‘Bhakathajanangalude Sraddhakku', again it is faith, but born of superstition and mob psychology. Alcoholism is the catalyst that takes the story to its climax.
The low budget movie is to be seen, digested and pondered over. Kavya Madhavan plays the central character, a role that is the envy of any actor, where a plethora of emotions come into play. She has done fairly well, but could have done much better.
Casting
Irshad, the guy who plays the lead, who came in from the stage, steals the show. Untouched by the stylised body language of the stage, Irshad has taken to the cinematic language of ordinary behaviour well. “I was able to use the potential of Irshad only because the producer allowed me to cast him, an actor who has had to play small roles so far,” says Priyanandan. The cast of ‘Bhakthajangalude Shraddakku' incudes Indrans, Kalabhavan Mani, Vanitha, Geetha Vijayan and a host of small time actors who have given of their best. The story that keeps its freshness and purposefulness alive till the fag end suddenly turns melodramatic in the finale. Bijibal's background score is commendable and the sound track has freshness. The three songs contribute to the narration, one will agree.
Priyanandanan, who has a staunch stage background has proved his mettle with his earlier movies. ‘Pulijanmam' bagged the National award for the Best Feature Film in 2006 and its protagonist was Murali. Murali won the National Award for Best Actor for his performance in ‘Neythukaran', also Priyanandanan's film.
By PREMA MANMADHAN
In the entertainment industry, what happens if every movie that is released is slapstick? Or, serious tragedies, or issue-based ones, one after another? Or cloying romance, in a line? Yes, we would all get bored.
So every movie has space, as everyone wants a mixed entertainment experience. The different genre of Priyanandanan's fourth directorial venture, ‘Bhakthajanangalude Sraddhakku' gets into an interesting bracket. It's a satire, the parallels not very difficult to gauge.
Burning issue
Two burning issues that rock Kerala are locked into ‘Bhakthajanangalude Sraddhakku'. One is the trend to build empires around godmen and godwomen and the other, the problem of alcoholism, and how lives are ruined. Intertwined with these two topical issues is the global issue of corruption, which plays a side role in the movie.
Priyanandanan tells it straight, there are no sub-plots to distract you. Neither is the narrative made complex by flashbacks or incomprehensible cinematic grammar. Why this subject? Says Priyanandanan, “This fad of going behind godmen is something that's happening all over Kerala and I felt the masses needed to be told about the goings on inside these institutionalised places, and the misconceptions, whatever the religion. Piety is something very different. What better way to drive home this point than cinema?”
Religion and complications that develop in connection with it seem to dog Priyanandanan's movies. In ‘Sufi Paranja Katha', his last film, it was a case of a woman married to a man from a different religion and the role played by faith, inculcated at an early age into a person. In ‘Bhakathajanangalude Sraddhakku', again it is faith, but born of superstition and mob psychology. Alcoholism is the catalyst that takes the story to its climax.
The low budget movie is to be seen, digested and pondered over. Kavya Madhavan plays the central character, a role that is the envy of any actor, where a plethora of emotions come into play. She has done fairly well, but could have done much better.
Casting
Irshad, the guy who plays the lead, who came in from the stage, steals the show. Untouched by the stylised body language of the stage, Irshad has taken to the cinematic language of ordinary behaviour well. “I was able to use the potential of Irshad only because the producer allowed me to cast him, an actor who has had to play small roles so far,” says Priyanandan. The cast of ‘Bhakthajangalude Shraddakku' incudes Indrans, Kalabhavan Mani, Vanitha, Geetha Vijayan and a host of small time actors who have given of their best. The story that keeps its freshness and purposefulness alive till the fag end suddenly turns melodramatic in the finale. Bijibal's background score is commendable and the sound track has freshness. The three songs contribute to the narration, one will agree.
Priyanandanan, who has a staunch stage background has proved his mettle with his earlier movies. ‘Pulijanmam' bagged the National award for the Best Feature Film in 2006 and its protagonist was Murali. Murali won the National Award for Best Actor for his performance in ‘Neythukaran', also Priyanandanan's film.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Case against Mommies
By Prema Manmadhan, published in The Hindu metroplus in 2004 on Mother's day
When it can be `Papa don't preach' it can be a case against pushy Ammas too. On Mother's Day, which falls on May 9, Mommies, think hard, think rationally!
WHEN IS it NOT Mother's Day, pray? Only when emotional blackmail fails to move family members. Otherwise Ammas all have their way and queen it over the family, only they won't admit it. The word `mother' evokes all that is honey-dewy in literature and the puranas. One mother used to get her children round by chanting, `Mata pita guru deivam' at every given opportunity. Her logic was that the mother came first even before the Almighty, from puranic days!
True, there's nothing like maternal instincts. `Sacrifice', some of them call the things they do so that their children get better opportunities than they did, in their childhood. But could it be selfishness, by any means? To show people that their children did better than others'? Or as psychologists say, to see their dreams fulfilled in their children? Bad analysis, mothers may think, when all mothers bend backwards to give their children the very best.
But there are other instincts inherent in many mothers that are not very flattering, that sets a bad example to the child. Only, nobody wants to talk about the bad mother. It's something like this: In an obituary, people skip all those instances when the guy really made a pest of himself. On Mother's Day, too, people do the same. They say and write all that's positive and sweep the negative aspects under the carpet. Look at these new age pushy mamas who will not give their two-and-a-half year old peace till she/he parrots what her/his age, name and colour of her dress, all in preparation for the interview to enter the Kindergarten class. Once that is through, it would be tortuous motivation techniques to surpass every other child in the class; Packing into tiny minds what they cannot take till the tears take over.
"But that is because I love my child very much. It must not be seen in that light. True, psychologists do say it is bad to push a child, but one cannot risk not doing it. If she does not study hard enough now, she will continue in the same vein and what will we do when she reaches Class 10," asks Preetha Vinod, whose daughter Bhadra, is entering Std I.
Elizabeth Tony, a bank officer, on the other hand, says she took leave when her son had his Class 10 exams. He would lounge on the sofa and listen while she read out the portions. Of course, she had the added responsibility of checking, every now and then to see if he was nodding. If this was not maternal love, what is, she thought. Later, in college, she would check his every move to see that he went in the right direction and did not fall into bad company. This so irritated the boy that he considered his mother to be his arch enemy, and even stopped talking to her.
It took prayers, reasoning, counselling and luck to bring the mother and son back together again.
Till the other day, it was studies, studies all the way, but today, the extra curricular activities matter when it comes to professional courses too. The poor mother tries hard to detect the slightest extra curricular interest in her darling and sends the child to sundry tuitions during vacation. And at the youth festivals she feels it is love that drives her to near fisticuffs to ensure her son's or daughter's victory. That another child might have done better than hers, is a possibility she cannot consider. Blinded by love, perhaps, but again, a bad example.
Alas, in that mad scramble to see that Sonny reaches first, she makes painful comparisons too. "Look at Ramu next door. He has never got less than 100 in his Maths papers. Why can't you be like him?" Mothers, beware, this is a sure ticket to get into the bad books of your precious progeny.
And when they turn into young men and women, and will not bend down to have their bottoms spanked, comes the threat, "You will do it (whatever) over my dead body". Nowadays, few take these protestations seriously. They do it, and mostly not over their dead bodies!!
But, take heart. Mothers almost always have their way. Long faces, `moun vriths' and mutterings are the modus operandi. Hap... hap... Happy Mother's Day.
When it can be `Papa don't preach' it can be a case against pushy Ammas too. On Mother's Day, which falls on May 9, Mommies, think hard, think rationally!
WHEN IS it NOT Mother's Day, pray? Only when emotional blackmail fails to move family members. Otherwise Ammas all have their way and queen it over the family, only they won't admit it. The word `mother' evokes all that is honey-dewy in literature and the puranas. One mother used to get her children round by chanting, `Mata pita guru deivam' at every given opportunity. Her logic was that the mother came first even before the Almighty, from puranic days!
True, there's nothing like maternal instincts. `Sacrifice', some of them call the things they do so that their children get better opportunities than they did, in their childhood. But could it be selfishness, by any means? To show people that their children did better than others'? Or as psychologists say, to see their dreams fulfilled in their children? Bad analysis, mothers may think, when all mothers bend backwards to give their children the very best.
But there are other instincts inherent in many mothers that are not very flattering, that sets a bad example to the child. Only, nobody wants to talk about the bad mother. It's something like this: In an obituary, people skip all those instances when the guy really made a pest of himself. On Mother's Day, too, people do the same. They say and write all that's positive and sweep the negative aspects under the carpet. Look at these new age pushy mamas who will not give their two-and-a-half year old peace till she/he parrots what her/his age, name and colour of her dress, all in preparation for the interview to enter the Kindergarten class. Once that is through, it would be tortuous motivation techniques to surpass every other child in the class; Packing into tiny minds what they cannot take till the tears take over.
"But that is because I love my child very much. It must not be seen in that light. True, psychologists do say it is bad to push a child, but one cannot risk not doing it. If she does not study hard enough now, she will continue in the same vein and what will we do when she reaches Class 10," asks Preetha Vinod, whose daughter Bhadra, is entering Std I.
Elizabeth Tony, a bank officer, on the other hand, says she took leave when her son had his Class 10 exams. He would lounge on the sofa and listen while she read out the portions. Of course, she had the added responsibility of checking, every now and then to see if he was nodding. If this was not maternal love, what is, she thought. Later, in college, she would check his every move to see that he went in the right direction and did not fall into bad company. This so irritated the boy that he considered his mother to be his arch enemy, and even stopped talking to her.
It took prayers, reasoning, counselling and luck to bring the mother and son back together again.
Till the other day, it was studies, studies all the way, but today, the extra curricular activities matter when it comes to professional courses too. The poor mother tries hard to detect the slightest extra curricular interest in her darling and sends the child to sundry tuitions during vacation. And at the youth festivals she feels it is love that drives her to near fisticuffs to ensure her son's or daughter's victory. That another child might have done better than hers, is a possibility she cannot consider. Blinded by love, perhaps, but again, a bad example.
Alas, in that mad scramble to see that Sonny reaches first, she makes painful comparisons too. "Look at Ramu next door. He has never got less than 100 in his Maths papers. Why can't you be like him?" Mothers, beware, this is a sure ticket to get into the bad books of your precious progeny.
And when they turn into young men and women, and will not bend down to have their bottoms spanked, comes the threat, "You will do it (whatever) over my dead body". Nowadays, few take these protestations seriously. They do it, and mostly not over their dead bodies!!
But, take heart. Mothers almost always have their way. Long faces, `moun vriths' and mutterings are the modus operandi. Hap... hap... Happy Mother's Day.
MOTHER REMEMBERED IN 2003
Story on Mother's day published in 2003
By Prema Manmadhan
ALL THOSE hands rocking those cradles. How much have they ruled the world? Shabna Azmi would tell you not at all, else how come that magical number, 33, manages to remain only on paper and as the permanent talking point (only) among parliamentarians at all sessions?
If the hands at day care centres have a say, how would the world be, one may ponder. But after all, mothering is a different exercise altogether today. It's no more cooking, cleaning rocking cradles and stitching alone. It's an acrobatic exercise, managing the home, office, making up for broken promises to your child, praying hard during their examinations, cooking up a white lie to shield him from Papa's temper and putting up with teenage tantrums. Only, emotions remain the same, as it was a century ago, maybe even earlier. They will remain the same, a century later, maybe even later. Ask any mother.
But ask any child. Like the fact that Monday comes after Sunday, whatever happens, Mothers' love and services are taken for granted.
Mother's Day? The mother in most down-to-earth women would scoff at the idea. So sacred, so intimate, so natural is a mother's feelings for her children that it is ridiculous to put aside a day and declare it as all hers. "All 364 days are mine," says Thankam Nair, a mother of three, laughing. The concept of this day and that day, that came sailing in slowly from the West, as part of the consumerist culture, aided and abetted by trade interests, has taken root here. But the entertainment value of it appeals, nationally.
When a mother gets a card from her son saying that she is the sweetest mother alive, surely, she knows those printed words are readymade and came from some smart alec with good business sense! Not that he would love her any the less or vice versa, card or no card.
Listen to some mothers and children wax eloquent on Mother's Day that has just gone by.
"It's a chance for those in the upper rungs of the social ladder to splurge. Maybe those mothers need to be told that they are sweet. I don't need to be told, I know," said a lower middle class mother, scorn writ large on her weather-beaten face. It breaks spontaneously into a smile as she continues, " Cooking my son's favourite dish even when I have no time is how I show my love. Telling me that he `really does not need a new pair of jeans' when I know he does, is his way of telling me that he loves me and he knows I cannot afford it right now. I need no card, you see?"
On the other hand, a mother, who is a bank employee and the mother of an only daughter proudly displays a card that her daughter gave her. It said she was the world's best mother... . She was lucky to have her as her mother... .all about the love she had for her... etc. The understated smile and the sparkle in her eyes showed she was pleased as Punch, to borrow a clichéd phrase. The two reactions only prove how much money has a part to play in even relationships. If you can afford it, well, good. If you can't, well, you just don't need it.
"My son gave me a card some years ago, when he was three. It said I was the dearest Mummy in the world. I'm sure he didn't know what the card said. My father bought it for him," said Meena, a twenty-something working girl, chuckling. Meena herself has never given her mother a card, but she hugs her and wishes her Happy Mother's Day of late, `after all this noise about the day started.' Environmental influence often makes one accept changes routinely, without attaching much significance to them.
However, trade circles are not very happy. Card sales have gone down, thanks to the Internet. The segments that are interested in sending cards have switched their loyalties to the net and are sending free cards to their mums as well.
"It's mostly girls who buy cards, not boys, for Mother's Day," said Saju, a salesman at Archies in the city. They all come from Delhi and are peopled by golden haired little girls and boys in suspenders. These cards have flowers also, but they are all so western in tone and content that one wonders why no one has thought of Indianisation yet. Perhaps the Indian version will not tally with the ground reality, that's why.
Indian tradition gives the mother pride of place. It is `Mata, pita, guru, deivam', in that order. Even Saddam said it: Mother of all battles, not father, remember?
What we really should have is a Mother-in-law's Day. That is the crying need of the hour.
By Prema Manmadhan
ALL THOSE hands rocking those cradles. How much have they ruled the world? Shabna Azmi would tell you not at all, else how come that magical number, 33, manages to remain only on paper and as the permanent talking point (only) among parliamentarians at all sessions?
If the hands at day care centres have a say, how would the world be, one may ponder. But after all, mothering is a different exercise altogether today. It's no more cooking, cleaning rocking cradles and stitching alone. It's an acrobatic exercise, managing the home, office, making up for broken promises to your child, praying hard during their examinations, cooking up a white lie to shield him from Papa's temper and putting up with teenage tantrums. Only, emotions remain the same, as it was a century ago, maybe even earlier. They will remain the same, a century later, maybe even later. Ask any mother.
But ask any child. Like the fact that Monday comes after Sunday, whatever happens, Mothers' love and services are taken for granted.
Mother's Day? The mother in most down-to-earth women would scoff at the idea. So sacred, so intimate, so natural is a mother's feelings for her children that it is ridiculous to put aside a day and declare it as all hers. "All 364 days are mine," says Thankam Nair, a mother of three, laughing. The concept of this day and that day, that came sailing in slowly from the West, as part of the consumerist culture, aided and abetted by trade interests, has taken root here. But the entertainment value of it appeals, nationally.
When a mother gets a card from her son saying that she is the sweetest mother alive, surely, she knows those printed words are readymade and came from some smart alec with good business sense! Not that he would love her any the less or vice versa, card or no card.
Listen to some mothers and children wax eloquent on Mother's Day that has just gone by.
"It's a chance for those in the upper rungs of the social ladder to splurge. Maybe those mothers need to be told that they are sweet. I don't need to be told, I know," said a lower middle class mother, scorn writ large on her weather-beaten face. It breaks spontaneously into a smile as she continues, " Cooking my son's favourite dish even when I have no time is how I show my love. Telling me that he `really does not need a new pair of jeans' when I know he does, is his way of telling me that he loves me and he knows I cannot afford it right now. I need no card, you see?"
On the other hand, a mother, who is a bank employee and the mother of an only daughter proudly displays a card that her daughter gave her. It said she was the world's best mother... . She was lucky to have her as her mother... .all about the love she had for her... etc. The understated smile and the sparkle in her eyes showed she was pleased as Punch, to borrow a clichéd phrase. The two reactions only prove how much money has a part to play in even relationships. If you can afford it, well, good. If you can't, well, you just don't need it.
"My son gave me a card some years ago, when he was three. It said I was the dearest Mummy in the world. I'm sure he didn't know what the card said. My father bought it for him," said Meena, a twenty-something working girl, chuckling. Meena herself has never given her mother a card, but she hugs her and wishes her Happy Mother's Day of late, `after all this noise about the day started.' Environmental influence often makes one accept changes routinely, without attaching much significance to them.
However, trade circles are not very happy. Card sales have gone down, thanks to the Internet. The segments that are interested in sending cards have switched their loyalties to the net and are sending free cards to their mums as well.
"It's mostly girls who buy cards, not boys, for Mother's Day," said Saju, a salesman at Archies in the city. They all come from Delhi and are peopled by golden haired little girls and boys in suspenders. These cards have flowers also, but they are all so western in tone and content that one wonders why no one has thought of Indianisation yet. Perhaps the Indian version will not tally with the ground reality, that's why.
Indian tradition gives the mother pride of place. It is `Mata, pita, guru, deivam', in that order. Even Saddam said it: Mother of all battles, not father, remember?
What we really should have is a Mother-in-law's Day. That is the crying need of the hour.
Miss you, Mum
On Mother's day, 2010, published in the Hindu Metroplus
By Prema Manmadhan
Mother, did I ever tell you I loved you more than anyone? No? Then, it's because our culture is so different from the West.
We hardly ever say, ‘I love you' or ‘I missed you' like Westerners. We think it's funny because we say that in so many ways, in our deeds, in our thoughts and in the way we try to pass on the values that you taught us.
When something drastic happens or when we are dead scared, don't we always turn to you, even though you are not here?
We scream, ‘Mother' in our mother tongue. Now, isn't that proof that you live as long as we do too?
All those teen years, when the word ‘REBEL' flowed through our very veins, we may have said very bad things to you. Like the time we back answered you in front of all those relatives and friends and when you felt you had not brought us up right, maybe. But no, you were always a gem, it was our age that spoke, not us, Mom. Believe me!
But though we felt sad and sorry about it later, there was no way to let you know about it, for in the Indian context, ‘sorry' just didn't figure in our scheme of things. Maybe you sensed it. Of course we did that extra bit of chores so that you would guess that we were really sorry, maybe you saw that and maybe you knew that all along, and forgave us.
We always took you for granted, didn't we? But then that was because we never ever thought there would be a time when you would not be there. That is the reason. But we do so wish we had pampered you more.
When we had our own families, we were too engrossed in that nuclear set up and our jobs and friends. Again you were taken for granted, on looking back. That you were getting older and not as healthy as you might have been never struck us. For us, you were always that sprightly woman, able to deal with anything, the supermom who did not need looking after.
But every day, we think of you, because so much of you is in each of us, so much of what you taught us we practise every day, so much of what you left us, we use, and today, in us, we see you, in our children, we see ourselves. And isn't that what tradition is all about? On this Mother's Day, we open out our hearts to you and say, ‘I miss you so much, Mother'.
Did someone say, ‘I miss you too?'
By Prema Manmadhan
Mother, did I ever tell you I loved you more than anyone? No? Then, it's because our culture is so different from the West.
We hardly ever say, ‘I love you' or ‘I missed you' like Westerners. We think it's funny because we say that in so many ways, in our deeds, in our thoughts and in the way we try to pass on the values that you taught us.
When something drastic happens or when we are dead scared, don't we always turn to you, even though you are not here?
We scream, ‘Mother' in our mother tongue. Now, isn't that proof that you live as long as we do too?
All those teen years, when the word ‘REBEL' flowed through our very veins, we may have said very bad things to you. Like the time we back answered you in front of all those relatives and friends and when you felt you had not brought us up right, maybe. But no, you were always a gem, it was our age that spoke, not us, Mom. Believe me!
But though we felt sad and sorry about it later, there was no way to let you know about it, for in the Indian context, ‘sorry' just didn't figure in our scheme of things. Maybe you sensed it. Of course we did that extra bit of chores so that you would guess that we were really sorry, maybe you saw that and maybe you knew that all along, and forgave us.
We always took you for granted, didn't we? But then that was because we never ever thought there would be a time when you would not be there. That is the reason. But we do so wish we had pampered you more.
When we had our own families, we were too engrossed in that nuclear set up and our jobs and friends. Again you were taken for granted, on looking back. That you were getting older and not as healthy as you might have been never struck us. For us, you were always that sprightly woman, able to deal with anything, the supermom who did not need looking after.
But every day, we think of you, because so much of you is in each of us, so much of what you taught us we practise every day, so much of what you left us, we use, and today, in us, we see you, in our children, we see ourselves. And isn't that what tradition is all about? On this Mother's Day, we open out our hearts to you and say, ‘I miss you so much, Mother'.
Did someone say, ‘I miss you too?'
Mother's Day
Story published in Hindu Methroplus on May 9, 2011
By Prema Manmadhan
The Day After Mother's Day, it's back to routine. Yesterday, most mothers felt very important and motherhood sat pretty on women. The day brings mixed feelings for a section of mothers and their children, who belong to minority groups. Of course the vast number of mothers and children who come under the BPL (Below the Poverty Line) section that are unaware of the several ‘days' that have found entry into the commercial calendar of events. Every day for them is a struggle and every day, they probably think of their mothers, either to inveigle some cash out of them, or lovingly share some delicacy received from people who practise charity on special days, like death anniversaries.
One group the vast majority of us forget on Mother's Day is the adopted children and foster mothers in the world, some of whom probably care more for their children than biological mothers, for the yearning has been intense and painful till the bundle of joy reaches home, post court appearances, and attendant hassles. For these mothers, justice has to be ‘seemed to be done', not only done, and affection cannot be just felt, it has to be demonstrated, for true love apparently did not travel via the umbilical cord. (Anyway, giving birth alone does not a mother make. Bringing up a child is hundredfold tougher and rewarding).
Adopted love
Says a mother with an adopted daughter, “My daughter has two birthdays, one, the date which the orphanage gave us and the other, the day she was brought home.” Her entire being is consumed with the welfare of her daughter to the extent that neighbours feel she has ‘spoilt' her.
The day she told her daughter she was adopted remains a scar, a partly healed wound in her heart. But this mother and daughter celebrate life with gusto, for the present. Mother's Day, for this daughter, probably brings in mixed feelings, on the one hand, a doting mother and on the other hand, a mother somewhere, who gave up her daughter for some unknown reason, perhaps poverty, perhaps a jilted lover or maybe for ten different reasons. And until the ghost of this uncertainty is exorcised by the certainty of the present, good sense and peace cannot prevail. To this section of children , let us dedicate our thoughts and perhaps the next Mother's Day.
Which brings us to the next minority in question: Mothers who have had to part with their babies for some unknown reason. What were their thoughts on Mother's Day? Would that be a day to curse fate and wonder about the gift that was rejected? Like a lottery ticket that just flew away in the wind and could not be pursued because society was standing guard? This day brings in scathing memories to this minority group.
Irreparable loss
Mothers who have lost their children form another group. When children lose their mothers, it's Nature's order, but when mothers lose children, nothing can compensate the loss. An entire population mourned the loss recently of singer Chitra's daughter. To this mother and the others, Mother's Day may be sad, but it also brings in happy memories of their children, something to cherish and many silver linings in the cloud.
This is a reminder to ordinary mothers to enjoy their status and not fret about their child's marks in social studies or Math and for the ordinary child to count his/her blessings instead of pouting and throwing tantrums, not only on Mother's Day but 24/7 round the year.
By Prema Manmadhan
The Day After Mother's Day, it's back to routine. Yesterday, most mothers felt very important and motherhood sat pretty on women. The day brings mixed feelings for a section of mothers and their children, who belong to minority groups. Of course the vast number of mothers and children who come under the BPL (Below the Poverty Line) section that are unaware of the several ‘days' that have found entry into the commercial calendar of events. Every day for them is a struggle and every day, they probably think of their mothers, either to inveigle some cash out of them, or lovingly share some delicacy received from people who practise charity on special days, like death anniversaries.
One group the vast majority of us forget on Mother's Day is the adopted children and foster mothers in the world, some of whom probably care more for their children than biological mothers, for the yearning has been intense and painful till the bundle of joy reaches home, post court appearances, and attendant hassles. For these mothers, justice has to be ‘seemed to be done', not only done, and affection cannot be just felt, it has to be demonstrated, for true love apparently did not travel via the umbilical cord. (Anyway, giving birth alone does not a mother make. Bringing up a child is hundredfold tougher and rewarding).
Adopted love
Says a mother with an adopted daughter, “My daughter has two birthdays, one, the date which the orphanage gave us and the other, the day she was brought home.” Her entire being is consumed with the welfare of her daughter to the extent that neighbours feel she has ‘spoilt' her.
The day she told her daughter she was adopted remains a scar, a partly healed wound in her heart. But this mother and daughter celebrate life with gusto, for the present. Mother's Day, for this daughter, probably brings in mixed feelings, on the one hand, a doting mother and on the other hand, a mother somewhere, who gave up her daughter for some unknown reason, perhaps poverty, perhaps a jilted lover or maybe for ten different reasons. And until the ghost of this uncertainty is exorcised by the certainty of the present, good sense and peace cannot prevail. To this section of children , let us dedicate our thoughts and perhaps the next Mother's Day.
Which brings us to the next minority in question: Mothers who have had to part with their babies for some unknown reason. What were their thoughts on Mother's Day? Would that be a day to curse fate and wonder about the gift that was rejected? Like a lottery ticket that just flew away in the wind and could not be pursued because society was standing guard? This day brings in scathing memories to this minority group.
Irreparable loss
Mothers who have lost their children form another group. When children lose their mothers, it's Nature's order, but when mothers lose children, nothing can compensate the loss. An entire population mourned the loss recently of singer Chitra's daughter. To this mother and the others, Mother's Day may be sad, but it also brings in happy memories of their children, something to cherish and many silver linings in the cloud.
This is a reminder to ordinary mothers to enjoy their status and not fret about their child's marks in social studies or Math and for the ordinary child to count his/her blessings instead of pouting and throwing tantrums, not only on Mother's Day but 24/7 round the year.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Review of Ko
An interview with K.V.Anand, director of Tamil Movie, Ko, published in the Hindu Metroplus)
By Prema Manmadhan
Go, see ‘Ko'. Especially, if you are a press photographer of the print variety. There's ample vicarious satisfaction that can be derived all through. For others, it is a reflection of today's political and societal ‘tamasha', sadly termed the ‘trends in life'. The theme is so scorching topical, in the days of Anna Hazare and the poll season. It belongs to that genre of movies where the connoisseur and the ‘mass' type have something to cheer about, subject-wise and cinematically.
Director K. V. Anand, who was in the city as part of the film's promotion, says autobiographical elements abound in the movie, in an exclusive interview with Metro Plus. His tragi-comic experiences while working as a freelance photographer for India Today, The Illustrated Weekly of India and in Kalki came in handy.
Autobiographical
“It's not only my experiences, but my friends' too, with orthodox photo editors. If you give them a photo with mood, light and shade, they ask, ‘why is it that one half of the face is not seen?” he remarks. The scene where Jeeva is confronted by the photo editor in the film and the ensuing hilarious dialogue actually happened to Anand in 1989, he said.
As in the movie, Anand had often been threatened by lackeys of politicians. “Once in Rajapalayam, while working for Kalki, I was chased by the goons of an MLA and while running, I changed the film in the camera and put in a blank film. They caught me, and exposed the film. But we published the pictures, which were safe with me. But there is absolutely nothing autobiographical about the two girls in the movie,” insists Anand with a chuckle.
Talking of dialogues, Suba and Anand have infused the comic element, without resorting to inane comedy, christened slapstick. So, you have such anti-climax moments when Jeeva, fresh from a heroic scene, tells Karthika he has ‘something to tell her'. She is all ears and romantic, when he says, “Can you lend me 1,000 bucks to give you all a treat?”
Anand does not believe in ‘professional comedy' in films. “Situational comedy is my cup of tea,” he says. Likewise, no contorted faces for villains here. Remember the classical ‘One can smile and smile and be a villain?
The face of villainy is handsome in ‘Ko' (meaning leader). You will never guess who the real villain is till nearly the fag end.
Photography gets its due and it's almost as important a theme as corruption and politics. Recent photographs taken by the Photography Club of Madras, started in 1939, have been used as a film collage while showing the credits. “The idea is that they are pictures taken by the hero,” he explains. Cinematography consumes Anand. Early in life, bitter at not getting a regular photographer's job he sought to become P.C. Sriram's ‘shishya' and assisted him.
His first independent assignment, ‘Thenmavin Kombathu', a poem on celluloid, (cliché all right, but true) won the national award. ‘Shivaji the Boss' had his cinematography as also the Hindi ‘Josh'. Yet, Richard M. Nathan cranks camera for ‘Ko'. Why has he not, as a proven seasoned cameraman, done it himself?
Without hesitation, he says, “When you become both cameraman and director, you will kill one of them. I did not want that to happen. Each is a full time job. When I am the cameraman, even at the last minute, I still keep improving the shots. The director, meanwhile, has his share of the job, trying to make the film as a whole, as well as he can, organising last minute work. The producer must get his money, after all. That is why.”
His first directorial venture was ‘Kana Kandein', which made waves. Having directed the hit ‘Ayan' in 2009 and now, ‘Ko', will Anand the director delete Anand the cameraman from the film scene?
“No, no,” he stresses. When I don't have a script to make into a film, I will be a cinematographer. I am open to both.” As if to accentuate the point, he speaks about the Phantom-Flex camera that was used in the climax scene in ‘Ko', which works at six times the speed of the normal camera.
“It is still in demo mode and we borrowed it from the makers in Singapore just for two days. They told us there is no guarantee that we will get the shots right. But we got all the shots filmed. There is exchange of fire and I was not content with just the usual ‘dishum dishum' stuff. I wanted to show the journey of a bullet, which can be seen, in slow motion, with the 2,800 frames-per- second shots.
Characterisation is one element which few writers and directors care about. In Ko, that's carefully done so that each one's words and deeds are inkeeping with the kind of characters that they are msde out to be by the writer. Casting is another plus point. Ebullient Jeeva suited the lead role but Ajmal's is indeed the plum role, where he has scope to emote. Having to portray diametrically opposite emotions, and body language, he does the role very well. Piya Bajpai and Karthika do their very different roles well. Kotta Srinivasa Rao and Prakash Raj don roles that they are familiar with. Down to the small time thug, casting is just right.
Netherlands and China
Richard M. Nathan's photography takes you to beautiful Netherlands and Northern China. “In the Netherlands, labour is very expensive, so we had to cart the equipment ourselves. All of us had to trek 14 km for the shooting of that song,” says Anand. The visuals are striking. Ice sculpture in China is a sight to behold, the gigantic life size buildings and animals, between which the hero and heroine dance.
But does the story really need those songs? Aren't they out of place? “Well, this lighter element is needed for a large section of the audience along with the serious part of the film. For film festivals, about 25 minutes of the film will be cut (read songs) when we send the prints,” Anand says.
The Rs.12 crore ‘Ko' sure has ‘dum'.
By Prema Manmadhan
Go, see ‘Ko'. Especially, if you are a press photographer of the print variety. There's ample vicarious satisfaction that can be derived all through. For others, it is a reflection of today's political and societal ‘tamasha', sadly termed the ‘trends in life'. The theme is so scorching topical, in the days of Anna Hazare and the poll season. It belongs to that genre of movies where the connoisseur and the ‘mass' type have something to cheer about, subject-wise and cinematically.
Director K. V. Anand, who was in the city as part of the film's promotion, says autobiographical elements abound in the movie, in an exclusive interview with Metro Plus. His tragi-comic experiences while working as a freelance photographer for India Today, The Illustrated Weekly of India and in Kalki came in handy.
Autobiographical
“It's not only my experiences, but my friends' too, with orthodox photo editors. If you give them a photo with mood, light and shade, they ask, ‘why is it that one half of the face is not seen?” he remarks. The scene where Jeeva is confronted by the photo editor in the film and the ensuing hilarious dialogue actually happened to Anand in 1989, he said.
As in the movie, Anand had often been threatened by lackeys of politicians. “Once in Rajapalayam, while working for Kalki, I was chased by the goons of an MLA and while running, I changed the film in the camera and put in a blank film. They caught me, and exposed the film. But we published the pictures, which were safe with me. But there is absolutely nothing autobiographical about the two girls in the movie,” insists Anand with a chuckle.
Talking of dialogues, Suba and Anand have infused the comic element, without resorting to inane comedy, christened slapstick. So, you have such anti-climax moments when Jeeva, fresh from a heroic scene, tells Karthika he has ‘something to tell her'. She is all ears and romantic, when he says, “Can you lend me 1,000 bucks to give you all a treat?”
Anand does not believe in ‘professional comedy' in films. “Situational comedy is my cup of tea,” he says. Likewise, no contorted faces for villains here. Remember the classical ‘One can smile and smile and be a villain?
The face of villainy is handsome in ‘Ko' (meaning leader). You will never guess who the real villain is till nearly the fag end.
Photography gets its due and it's almost as important a theme as corruption and politics. Recent photographs taken by the Photography Club of Madras, started in 1939, have been used as a film collage while showing the credits. “The idea is that they are pictures taken by the hero,” he explains. Cinematography consumes Anand. Early in life, bitter at not getting a regular photographer's job he sought to become P.C. Sriram's ‘shishya' and assisted him.
His first independent assignment, ‘Thenmavin Kombathu', a poem on celluloid, (cliché all right, but true) won the national award. ‘Shivaji the Boss' had his cinematography as also the Hindi ‘Josh'. Yet, Richard M. Nathan cranks camera for ‘Ko'. Why has he not, as a proven seasoned cameraman, done it himself?
Without hesitation, he says, “When you become both cameraman and director, you will kill one of them. I did not want that to happen. Each is a full time job. When I am the cameraman, even at the last minute, I still keep improving the shots. The director, meanwhile, has his share of the job, trying to make the film as a whole, as well as he can, organising last minute work. The producer must get his money, after all. That is why.”
His first directorial venture was ‘Kana Kandein', which made waves. Having directed the hit ‘Ayan' in 2009 and now, ‘Ko', will Anand the director delete Anand the cameraman from the film scene?
“No, no,” he stresses. When I don't have a script to make into a film, I will be a cinematographer. I am open to both.” As if to accentuate the point, he speaks about the Phantom-Flex camera that was used in the climax scene in ‘Ko', which works at six times the speed of the normal camera.
“It is still in demo mode and we borrowed it from the makers in Singapore just for two days. They told us there is no guarantee that we will get the shots right. But we got all the shots filmed. There is exchange of fire and I was not content with just the usual ‘dishum dishum' stuff. I wanted to show the journey of a bullet, which can be seen, in slow motion, with the 2,800 frames-per- second shots.
Characterisation is one element which few writers and directors care about. In Ko, that's carefully done so that each one's words and deeds are inkeeping with the kind of characters that they are msde out to be by the writer. Casting is another plus point. Ebullient Jeeva suited the lead role but Ajmal's is indeed the plum role, where he has scope to emote. Having to portray diametrically opposite emotions, and body language, he does the role very well. Piya Bajpai and Karthika do their very different roles well. Kotta Srinivasa Rao and Prakash Raj don roles that they are familiar with. Down to the small time thug, casting is just right.
Netherlands and China
Richard M. Nathan's photography takes you to beautiful Netherlands and Northern China. “In the Netherlands, labour is very expensive, so we had to cart the equipment ourselves. All of us had to trek 14 km for the shooting of that song,” says Anand. The visuals are striking. Ice sculpture in China is a sight to behold, the gigantic life size buildings and animals, between which the hero and heroine dance.
But does the story really need those songs? Aren't they out of place? “Well, this lighter element is needed for a large section of the audience along with the serious part of the film. For film festivals, about 25 minutes of the film will be cut (read songs) when we send the prints,” Anand says.
The Rs.12 crore ‘Ko' sure has ‘dum'.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Organic bamboo wind chimes
(Published in The Hindu Metroplus in March last week)
By Prema Manmadhan
It's dark; rain; billowing trees; swaying clumps of bamboo and ….yes, it's the forest, all right. These are the images that come before your mind's eye when you listen to the coy music that Rajeev's bamboo wind chime makes, when the breeze caresses it. Low pitched and like a congregation of flautists met up to exchange notes, the wind chimes take you to a primordial era, when time stands still, worries disintegrate into nothingness…that is, if you give yourself a chance to be alone and close your eyes.
There are wind chimes and wind chimes. Some that are so high pitched that you won't need much persuading to bring it down after a few days. There are others that cause a near pandemonium when confronted with wind.
Forest as neighbour
“Metal wind chimes don't give you this feel, that is a sort of metallic clang,” says Rajeev V.K., of Thattekkanni, beyond Neriamangalam, for whom the forests and bamboo are part of life, “living next to the forest.” Crafting things out of bamboo had always been his hobby, but Rajeev got a Diploma in Telecommunications from the Polytechnic Institute, as part of a game plan to equip himself better to face life. Being totally disinterested in the subject, he called it quits after a few teaching assignments and got back once again to his organic surroundings and pet love, namely bamboo.
“I researched for five years going by the trial and error method and came up with this method of making a bamboo wind chime,” Rajeev reminisces. Bamboo wind chimes are common in China and Bali.
Spiritual aspect
The spiritual aspects of the wind chime have not been explored in many places as it's done in China perhaps. While in China, it is a symbol of peace, prosperity and harmony, in Bali, where they make very good ones they are used during rituals and also to scare away birds in the rice fields. Tuned wind chimes are not that common, though.
Tuned? Yes, you have to tune them to get the right sounds and vibes. This one that Rajeev holds is a labour of love. First, the right type of bamboo has to be found in the forest and harvested properly. There are many kinds of bamboos and only certain species produce the desired sounds, as in the making of flutes.
Knowhow
“Many do not have the knowhow to cut it correctly, without damage. One has to know which bamboos are matured enough too. It has to be at least one and a half years old, when it is just ripe for harvesting. It has to be self dried,” explains Rajeev. After cutting it right, it has to be smoked for five days so that the water content in it evaporates.
And then begins the real work. After shaping each bamboo (he uses six in a wind chime, the primitive number is that, he insists), the tuning is laboriously done. Chipping off tiny particles of bamboo or layers thinner than a hair, he has to listen to the sound produced intently to see if it is the right tone and pitch. “One wrong move and that bamboo goes into the dust bin,” says Rajeev, describing his work.
Coconut shells
His wind chimes look like the Balinese ones, but he does not drill holes into the bamboos. They are carved with a curve at the top and small pieces of coconut shells help in producing the right notes. They also ensure a longer life for the wind chime, Rajeev says. Strong black thread holds them all together. At the top also, one half of a coconut shell, polished with care, holds the wind chime in place, with a wooden piece in the middle, the striker, which is the pivot that plays the director of the show.
You can even make a raga-based wind chime, says Rajeev, explaining how: “I have made a few in Mohanam, as that is a raga that is associated with happiness and can be sung at any time of the day. Not all bamboos can be used for this. Only rarely do I come across the right type in the forest. Tuning them is difficult as you have to get each ‘swara' of that raga in the same pitch, on each bamboo, for which very careful tuning is needed. And when it is ready, and the wind blows, imagine the combos of ‘manodharmas' in Mohanam that the wind chime produces,” says Rajeev, thoroughly excited.
“Recently, a Czech sound therapist came to my house to see my wind chimes and said they are stress busters, as they relax you.”
Rajeev recommends that the wind chime be hung somewhere where there's light and air, but not outdoors as bamboo is bio-degradable. Hanging it in an air-conditioned room is also not advisable, not only because there is no wind there, but the cold will kill the bamboo. His improved wind chimes are guaranteed to last ten years, he says.
The one worry that haunts Rajeev is that he has yet to find someone who has the patience to learn how to make these wind chimes from him. “I do not mass produce them. I can make just five a month and I am happy with what I get. I will not compromise on quality,” he says.
Research mode
Depending on the size, the prices vary. The one he holds is big and costs around Rs. 4,500, and he has bookings for the whole of this year and more.
And Rajeev is still in research mode, trying to make them better and better and bring in the spiritual element to it.
By Prema Manmadhan
It's dark; rain; billowing trees; swaying clumps of bamboo and ….yes, it's the forest, all right. These are the images that come before your mind's eye when you listen to the coy music that Rajeev's bamboo wind chime makes, when the breeze caresses it. Low pitched and like a congregation of flautists met up to exchange notes, the wind chimes take you to a primordial era, when time stands still, worries disintegrate into nothingness…that is, if you give yourself a chance to be alone and close your eyes.
There are wind chimes and wind chimes. Some that are so high pitched that you won't need much persuading to bring it down after a few days. There are others that cause a near pandemonium when confronted with wind.
Forest as neighbour
“Metal wind chimes don't give you this feel, that is a sort of metallic clang,” says Rajeev V.K., of Thattekkanni, beyond Neriamangalam, for whom the forests and bamboo are part of life, “living next to the forest.” Crafting things out of bamboo had always been his hobby, but Rajeev got a Diploma in Telecommunications from the Polytechnic Institute, as part of a game plan to equip himself better to face life. Being totally disinterested in the subject, he called it quits after a few teaching assignments and got back once again to his organic surroundings and pet love, namely bamboo.
“I researched for five years going by the trial and error method and came up with this method of making a bamboo wind chime,” Rajeev reminisces. Bamboo wind chimes are common in China and Bali.
Spiritual aspect
The spiritual aspects of the wind chime have not been explored in many places as it's done in China perhaps. While in China, it is a symbol of peace, prosperity and harmony, in Bali, where they make very good ones they are used during rituals and also to scare away birds in the rice fields. Tuned wind chimes are not that common, though.
Tuned? Yes, you have to tune them to get the right sounds and vibes. This one that Rajeev holds is a labour of love. First, the right type of bamboo has to be found in the forest and harvested properly. There are many kinds of bamboos and only certain species produce the desired sounds, as in the making of flutes.
Knowhow
“Many do not have the knowhow to cut it correctly, without damage. One has to know which bamboos are matured enough too. It has to be at least one and a half years old, when it is just ripe for harvesting. It has to be self dried,” explains Rajeev. After cutting it right, it has to be smoked for five days so that the water content in it evaporates.
And then begins the real work. After shaping each bamboo (he uses six in a wind chime, the primitive number is that, he insists), the tuning is laboriously done. Chipping off tiny particles of bamboo or layers thinner than a hair, he has to listen to the sound produced intently to see if it is the right tone and pitch. “One wrong move and that bamboo goes into the dust bin,” says Rajeev, describing his work.
Coconut shells
His wind chimes look like the Balinese ones, but he does not drill holes into the bamboos. They are carved with a curve at the top and small pieces of coconut shells help in producing the right notes. They also ensure a longer life for the wind chime, Rajeev says. Strong black thread holds them all together. At the top also, one half of a coconut shell, polished with care, holds the wind chime in place, with a wooden piece in the middle, the striker, which is the pivot that plays the director of the show.
You can even make a raga-based wind chime, says Rajeev, explaining how: “I have made a few in Mohanam, as that is a raga that is associated with happiness and can be sung at any time of the day. Not all bamboos can be used for this. Only rarely do I come across the right type in the forest. Tuning them is difficult as you have to get each ‘swara' of that raga in the same pitch, on each bamboo, for which very careful tuning is needed. And when it is ready, and the wind blows, imagine the combos of ‘manodharmas' in Mohanam that the wind chime produces,” says Rajeev, thoroughly excited.
“Recently, a Czech sound therapist came to my house to see my wind chimes and said they are stress busters, as they relax you.”
Rajeev recommends that the wind chime be hung somewhere where there's light and air, but not outdoors as bamboo is bio-degradable. Hanging it in an air-conditioned room is also not advisable, not only because there is no wind there, but the cold will kill the bamboo. His improved wind chimes are guaranteed to last ten years, he says.
The one worry that haunts Rajeev is that he has yet to find someone who has the patience to learn how to make these wind chimes from him. “I do not mass produce them. I can make just five a month and I am happy with what I get. I will not compromise on quality,” he says.
Research mode
Depending on the size, the prices vary. The one he holds is big and costs around Rs. 4,500, and he has bookings for the whole of this year and more.
And Rajeev is still in research mode, trying to make them better and better and bring in the spiritual element to it.
In the land of Khasak again
(This was published in the Hindu Metro PLus on April 2)
By Prema Manmadhan
Artists and friends got together to pay tribute to the enigmatic O. V. Vijayan on his sixth death anniversary
From Palakkad, he gravitated to the capital, where he spent a great chunk of his professional time and in the evening of his life, O. V. Vijayan made Kottayam his home for a short time, before moving to Hyderabad which turned out to be the last place he lived in. That was exactly six years ago. But he always belonged to Kerala, in his works, in his mind and in his very being, for one does not forget one's childhood and mother tongue.
And on March 30, they were there, all those who knew the thespian at some point in his life, despite the World Cup, on the sixth death anniversary of cartoonist-writer-thinker O.V.Vijayan. The mood at Nanappa Gallery at Orthic Creative Centre in the city was nostalgic, the crowd ready to pay homage to a man who never really got the recognition he deserved, for he always lay low, with a pronounced dislike for attention: An introvert extraordinaire. The visual media made him uncomfortable.
Memories abound
The four walls of the gallery had everything that T. Kaladharan, the organiser, could muster in a short time: Framed photostat copies of Vijayan's published cartoons, all that hit the nail right on the head, paintings that depicted either the cartoonist-writer or the characters in his famous novels and even three sculptures. The Cartoon Academy rose to the occasion and collected a good number of Vijayan's all-time great cartoons, from the time of the language agitation in 1958, one which had the words, ‘linguisticks' in it, to the ones in the Emergency and where EMS features, also from the pre-split days of the CPI. A study of these could give the new generation an idea of the standard of cartoons in those days and also more than flashes of brilliance in the department of cartoons. A sizeable number of the Academy's members drew sketches of Vijayan too.
At the gathering a few remembered their associations with him and two short documentaries, by K. M. Madhusoodan and Jyothiprakash were shown, dwelling much on the writer's seminal work, ‘Khazakkinte Ithihasam', which became even bigger than the writer himself. Manarcadu Mathew, who knew Vijayan for many years, was the chief guest. He spoke of the days he had a professional relationship with him at first and later it turned personal, when he met him many times in Delhi, where he used to live. K.N.Shaji, freelance journalist, said he used to meet Vijayan almost every day at one point of his life, while in Delhi. “He welcomed me, a young man with no job, with the same exuberance as he would a notable personality. We would sit and chat for long. I would have dinner in his house and leave…I learnt so much from a man who lived by his own rules,” he said.
Somananathan Nair (Nadhan) remembered how, as a young man, he was drawing for ‘Shankar's Weekly' and got in touch with Vijayan to get some advice. “He wrote me many letters giving me tips and commenting on cartoons and cartoonists so that I could learn more. He was the best in those days and I was just starting, sometime in the early seventies and yet, he took time to write to me. I have just one letter with me now,” he said and read it out to the gathering. One of the four cardinal rules, he had advised Nadhan, was not to oversimplify a cartoon. That is the essence of all Vijayan cartoons, you realise. The letter contained bold remarks about the famous cartoonists of the period apart from clear instructions on how to improve the drawings. Prasannan Anikkad also spoke.
The characters in ‘Khazakkinte Ithihasam' came to life in some paintings. Artist Namboodiri's sketch brought out much more than the man's physical appearance. K. K. Rajappan, K. P. Soman, C. S, Jayaram, Kaladharan and P.V.Krishnan are the senior artists on show. Three of the paintings were based on ‘Khazakkinte Ithihasam', the old house in Pramod Korampala's work, in K. M. Narayanan's painting and Appukkili in C. R. Manmadhan's work. A few were based on ‘Kadaltheeram', Vijayan's story. Unni, Keshav, Jayachandran, Ajoy, Dinesh R Shenoy, Varghese Kalathil, Binuraj, Rajeev, Sherin Satheesh, Satheesh Babu, T.V.G. Menon, Sajjive, Prasannan Anikkad, Sudhirnath, K. M. Narayanan are the others whose works or photocopies of works are here.
Little known facts
Little known facts about Vijayan were exchanged among the people at the meeting, that he was scared of spiders, though everyone knew how much he loved cats.
This writer was his neighbour for some time, while he lived in Kottayam. He told me then that his next novel (that never happened), ‘Padmatheertham', was all ready in his mind and it just needed to be transferred on to paper. It died with him. He had never used a computer and never ever got to see the number of pages that came on screen if his name was Googled. When this fact was conveyed to him, he looked up, astonished, wondering how it could be possible. He used his pen lavishly in his last years because of his disability to speak and would write a comment as and when he wanted to express something while watching a TV programme. And that equalled a cartoon, always.
And he loved fish curry, the man who contributed so much to the printed word and drawing but never ever got what he deserved in the world of letters.
By Prema Manmadhan
Artists and friends got together to pay tribute to the enigmatic O. V. Vijayan on his sixth death anniversary
From Palakkad, he gravitated to the capital, where he spent a great chunk of his professional time and in the evening of his life, O. V. Vijayan made Kottayam his home for a short time, before moving to Hyderabad which turned out to be the last place he lived in. That was exactly six years ago. But he always belonged to Kerala, in his works, in his mind and in his very being, for one does not forget one's childhood and mother tongue.
And on March 30, they were there, all those who knew the thespian at some point in his life, despite the World Cup, on the sixth death anniversary of cartoonist-writer-thinker O.V.Vijayan. The mood at Nanappa Gallery at Orthic Creative Centre in the city was nostalgic, the crowd ready to pay homage to a man who never really got the recognition he deserved, for he always lay low, with a pronounced dislike for attention: An introvert extraordinaire. The visual media made him uncomfortable.
Memories abound
The four walls of the gallery had everything that T. Kaladharan, the organiser, could muster in a short time: Framed photostat copies of Vijayan's published cartoons, all that hit the nail right on the head, paintings that depicted either the cartoonist-writer or the characters in his famous novels and even three sculptures. The Cartoon Academy rose to the occasion and collected a good number of Vijayan's all-time great cartoons, from the time of the language agitation in 1958, one which had the words, ‘linguisticks' in it, to the ones in the Emergency and where EMS features, also from the pre-split days of the CPI. A study of these could give the new generation an idea of the standard of cartoons in those days and also more than flashes of brilliance in the department of cartoons. A sizeable number of the Academy's members drew sketches of Vijayan too.
At the gathering a few remembered their associations with him and two short documentaries, by K. M. Madhusoodan and Jyothiprakash were shown, dwelling much on the writer's seminal work, ‘Khazakkinte Ithihasam', which became even bigger than the writer himself. Manarcadu Mathew, who knew Vijayan for many years, was the chief guest. He spoke of the days he had a professional relationship with him at first and later it turned personal, when he met him many times in Delhi, where he used to live. K.N.Shaji, freelance journalist, said he used to meet Vijayan almost every day at one point of his life, while in Delhi. “He welcomed me, a young man with no job, with the same exuberance as he would a notable personality. We would sit and chat for long. I would have dinner in his house and leave…I learnt so much from a man who lived by his own rules,” he said.
Somananathan Nair (Nadhan) remembered how, as a young man, he was drawing for ‘Shankar's Weekly' and got in touch with Vijayan to get some advice. “He wrote me many letters giving me tips and commenting on cartoons and cartoonists so that I could learn more. He was the best in those days and I was just starting, sometime in the early seventies and yet, he took time to write to me. I have just one letter with me now,” he said and read it out to the gathering. One of the four cardinal rules, he had advised Nadhan, was not to oversimplify a cartoon. That is the essence of all Vijayan cartoons, you realise. The letter contained bold remarks about the famous cartoonists of the period apart from clear instructions on how to improve the drawings. Prasannan Anikkad also spoke.
The characters in ‘Khazakkinte Ithihasam' came to life in some paintings. Artist Namboodiri's sketch brought out much more than the man's physical appearance. K. K. Rajappan, K. P. Soman, C. S, Jayaram, Kaladharan and P.V.Krishnan are the senior artists on show. Three of the paintings were based on ‘Khazakkinte Ithihasam', the old house in Pramod Korampala's work, in K. M. Narayanan's painting and Appukkili in C. R. Manmadhan's work. A few were based on ‘Kadaltheeram', Vijayan's story. Unni, Keshav, Jayachandran, Ajoy, Dinesh R Shenoy, Varghese Kalathil, Binuraj, Rajeev, Sherin Satheesh, Satheesh Babu, T.V.G. Menon, Sajjive, Prasannan Anikkad, Sudhirnath, K. M. Narayanan are the others whose works or photocopies of works are here.
Little known facts
Little known facts about Vijayan were exchanged among the people at the meeting, that he was scared of spiders, though everyone knew how much he loved cats.
This writer was his neighbour for some time, while he lived in Kottayam. He told me then that his next novel (that never happened), ‘Padmatheertham', was all ready in his mind and it just needed to be transferred on to paper. It died with him. He had never used a computer and never ever got to see the number of pages that came on screen if his name was Googled. When this fact was conveyed to him, he looked up, astonished, wondering how it could be possible. He used his pen lavishly in his last years because of his disability to speak and would write a comment as and when he wanted to express something while watching a TV programme. And that equalled a cartoon, always.
And he loved fish curry, the man who contributed so much to the printed word and drawing but never ever got what he deserved in the world of letters.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Urumi Review
Musings of a cineaste after the first day, first show of ‘Urumi', (Published in The Hindu Metro Plus, Kochi, on April 4)
Prithviraj has a vision, which he professes at every opportunity, that he will one day be the ambassador of Malayalam cinema and through him Malayalam cinema will get its due. ‘Urumi' could well be his first effort in that direction to fulfil his dream. Mani Ratnam's ‘Raavanan' paved the road for him to do it and here he is, with August Cinema's ‘Urumi'.
August Cinema's CEO is Mallika Sukumaran, say the credits. Homage is paid to Sukumaran before the movie begins as also to another producer's father, Nadesan. Sukumaran would certainly have been proud of his younger son. Santhosh Sivan, who dons a producer's, cinematographer's and director's robes, wears one for far too long.
Guess which robe? The cinematographer's of course. If you compare ‘Ananthabhadram', ‘Raavanan' and ‘Urumi', you can see the same pair of eyes looking through the camera.
As to who won the toss, the director or cameraman in ‘Urumi', again, the cameraman triumphs! For ‘Urumi' is eye candy…eye candy..eye candy supreme. Watching the movie in a multiplex gets you all the comments, honest and unafraid ones. The visuals floor you; all comments are united on that score.
There is the sea from several offbeat angles, the cave also lighted by torches with the light and shade playing, mountains and village locales, tribal men and women, animals and birds, namely the Manila duck, a parrot, horses, cows and buffaloes.
The colours are so much in harmony, earthy and natural green, and the costumes, few and classy (close ups are few). In fact, Prithviraj's costumes, very few, are natural and suit him.
There are just a handful of scenes in which Prithviraj Sukumaran does not appear. Muscles ripple and fight scenes abound, a la Crouching Tiger style. Prabhu Deva's is a comic character, the second longest after Prithviraj's. No, there are no dance scenes. Genelia D'Souza, who has the longest female role, tries her hand at kalaripayattu and makes bold attempts to look extremely serious about her persona. But in one of the roles she plays, (yes, several actors play double roles, one group in the past and the same group in the present) she is very much at home, that of a mentally deranged girl. Vidya Balan's much hyped item number is tastefully captured, except for one or two crude shots.
And Tabu? Your heart bleeds for the actor, who can hardly be recognised in that guest appearance. Nithya Menon is charming, sexy and cute, in turns. Jagathy, Arya and a host of small screen actors, who come in and go off in a few minutes at the beginning, do well. Deepak Dev's music is different. Only snatches of songs are picturised in some scenes, which go down well with the audience,
Sexual innuendos abound in Shankar Ramakrishnan's dialogues. More overt than covert. All in chaste language.
How many issues can one film hold? ‘Urumi' has environment, history (?), land mafia, love et al. If you don't take the history part too seriously, you will enjoy the movie, thoroughly, like a lovely fairy tale. But does anything stay in your heart, post ‘Urumi'? Prithviraj's flowing costumes did, in mine.
Prithviraj has a vision, which he professes at every opportunity, that he will one day be the ambassador of Malayalam cinema and through him Malayalam cinema will get its due. ‘Urumi' could well be his first effort in that direction to fulfil his dream. Mani Ratnam's ‘Raavanan' paved the road for him to do it and here he is, with August Cinema's ‘Urumi'.
August Cinema's CEO is Mallika Sukumaran, say the credits. Homage is paid to Sukumaran before the movie begins as also to another producer's father, Nadesan. Sukumaran would certainly have been proud of his younger son. Santhosh Sivan, who dons a producer's, cinematographer's and director's robes, wears one for far too long.
Guess which robe? The cinematographer's of course. If you compare ‘Ananthabhadram', ‘Raavanan' and ‘Urumi', you can see the same pair of eyes looking through the camera.
As to who won the toss, the director or cameraman in ‘Urumi', again, the cameraman triumphs! For ‘Urumi' is eye candy…eye candy..eye candy supreme. Watching the movie in a multiplex gets you all the comments, honest and unafraid ones. The visuals floor you; all comments are united on that score.
There is the sea from several offbeat angles, the cave also lighted by torches with the light and shade playing, mountains and village locales, tribal men and women, animals and birds, namely the Manila duck, a parrot, horses, cows and buffaloes.
The colours are so much in harmony, earthy and natural green, and the costumes, few and classy (close ups are few). In fact, Prithviraj's costumes, very few, are natural and suit him.
There are just a handful of scenes in which Prithviraj Sukumaran does not appear. Muscles ripple and fight scenes abound, a la Crouching Tiger style. Prabhu Deva's is a comic character, the second longest after Prithviraj's. No, there are no dance scenes. Genelia D'Souza, who has the longest female role, tries her hand at kalaripayattu and makes bold attempts to look extremely serious about her persona. But in one of the roles she plays, (yes, several actors play double roles, one group in the past and the same group in the present) she is very much at home, that of a mentally deranged girl. Vidya Balan's much hyped item number is tastefully captured, except for one or two crude shots.
And Tabu? Your heart bleeds for the actor, who can hardly be recognised in that guest appearance. Nithya Menon is charming, sexy and cute, in turns. Jagathy, Arya and a host of small screen actors, who come in and go off in a few minutes at the beginning, do well. Deepak Dev's music is different. Only snatches of songs are picturised in some scenes, which go down well with the audience,
Sexual innuendos abound in Shankar Ramakrishnan's dialogues. More overt than covert. All in chaste language.
How many issues can one film hold? ‘Urumi' has environment, history (?), land mafia, love et al. If you don't take the history part too seriously, you will enjoy the movie, thoroughly, like a lovely fairy tale. But does anything stay in your heart, post ‘Urumi'? Prithviraj's flowing costumes did, in mine.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Asianet's Mammootty the Best Actor 2011
This was published in The Hindu Metroplus dated February 24
Come Sunday next and a new reality show begins on Asianet. Actually, not new, but the second edition of a show. (Yawn?) But ‘Mammootty the Best Actor 2011' is nothing like the first one, says M. R. Rajan, Asst Vice President, Asianet. “It's a totally new type of show, lasting for just 13 episodes,” he promises. That's cause for relief, no doubt.
It's a hunt for good actors from Kerala, for Mollywood, as ‘there is a deficiency in that department, in the industry,' as cinematographer Venu, one of the three on the jury, puts it. The other two are actor-director Revathy and director Ranjit.
Of the 3,000 plus applicants, all between 10-30 years, 1,000 took the screen test and the number whittled down to 50. The in-house team did this job at centres in Thiruvananthapuram, Kochi and Dubai.
New generation directors
At the next stage, 10 new generation directors (many of whom have one or two films to their credit), like Mohan Raghavan who made the absorbing ‘T.D.Dasan Std IV B', Shaiju Anthikkad, Deepu Karun, Radhakrishnan Mangalath and others took over and 10 of the lucky and talented contestants were chosen from among them. Now, these ten directors are moulding them in the several departments of acting like dialogue delivery (maybe dubbing is discouraged, which is a good sign). Well, each director works on one contestant and finally on April 1, in Dubai, the top three contestants will be selected by the super threesome jury.
For Venu, this is his maiden TV show. Why now? “I like asking questions”, he answers. The judgement will not be based on appearance or glamour, but sheer talent, he says. The rounds include those that bring acting potential to the fore.
The ten directors are making ten short segments of films with the contestants, bringing out these qualities in each for the winners to be picked. The quality of moulding and innate talent will go a long way to creating the best actor. Kids from age 12 compete with adults in their late twenties. The 13 episodes will feature these ten contestants going through the grind with the jury.
Mammootty's role
Which brings us to the question: why it's called ‘Mammootty the Best Actor 2011'. Mammooty's role in the show is giving acting tips to contestants, interaction with the ten finalists and the topper will be given a role in a movie made by his production house, Playhouse, according to Rajan.
Yet another question why ‘Mammootty the Best Actor 2011' is telecast by Asianet channel when he is the chairman of Malayalam Communications Limited, which operates the channels under the Kairali TV, is a loaded one for which answers are yet to come.
Anyway, your afternoon nap after a full lunch on Sunday for the next few weeks will be affected. The show is from 2-3 p.m
Come Sunday next and a new reality show begins on Asianet. Actually, not new, but the second edition of a show. (Yawn?) But ‘Mammootty the Best Actor 2011' is nothing like the first one, says M. R. Rajan, Asst Vice President, Asianet. “It's a totally new type of show, lasting for just 13 episodes,” he promises. That's cause for relief, no doubt.
It's a hunt for good actors from Kerala, for Mollywood, as ‘there is a deficiency in that department, in the industry,' as cinematographer Venu, one of the three on the jury, puts it. The other two are actor-director Revathy and director Ranjit.
Of the 3,000 plus applicants, all between 10-30 years, 1,000 took the screen test and the number whittled down to 50. The in-house team did this job at centres in Thiruvananthapuram, Kochi and Dubai.
New generation directors
At the next stage, 10 new generation directors (many of whom have one or two films to their credit), like Mohan Raghavan who made the absorbing ‘T.D.Dasan Std IV B', Shaiju Anthikkad, Deepu Karun, Radhakrishnan Mangalath and others took over and 10 of the lucky and talented contestants were chosen from among them. Now, these ten directors are moulding them in the several departments of acting like dialogue delivery (maybe dubbing is discouraged, which is a good sign). Well, each director works on one contestant and finally on April 1, in Dubai, the top three contestants will be selected by the super threesome jury.
For Venu, this is his maiden TV show. Why now? “I like asking questions”, he answers. The judgement will not be based on appearance or glamour, but sheer talent, he says. The rounds include those that bring acting potential to the fore.
The ten directors are making ten short segments of films with the contestants, bringing out these qualities in each for the winners to be picked. The quality of moulding and innate talent will go a long way to creating the best actor. Kids from age 12 compete with adults in their late twenties. The 13 episodes will feature these ten contestants going through the grind with the jury.
Mammootty's role
Which brings us to the question: why it's called ‘Mammootty the Best Actor 2011'. Mammooty's role in the show is giving acting tips to contestants, interaction with the ten finalists and the topper will be given a role in a movie made by his production house, Playhouse, according to Rajan.
Yet another question why ‘Mammootty the Best Actor 2011' is telecast by Asianet channel when he is the chairman of Malayalam Communications Limited, which operates the channels under the Kairali TV, is a loaded one for which answers are yet to come.
Anyway, your afternoon nap after a full lunch on Sunday for the next few weeks will be affected. The show is from 2-3 p.m
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
