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'.
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