Recent cinemas...

Tamil cinema is in safe hands. That is what I felt after seeing Sathuranga Vettai, made by the first-time director, H.Vinoth. One can say the ending is cliched and nobody wants to hear a "message" these days. But I don't think there is any other way to end the plot, within the tolerance limits of the audience. Natty has given an amazing performance as a glib-tongued fraudster, Gandhi Babu. It is surprising to know he is an ace cinematographer, who has movies like Black Friday and Parineeta to his credit. But the major plus of the movie is its detailing. The spark of the movie could have been anything from those unbelievably nice mails saying you have won an international lottery and you just need to deposit Rs.20,000 as processing fee to claim the amount, to the widely popular MLM schemes. But whatever it was, the director has taken his job seriously. Be it the enjoyable and intriguing snake fraud or the mega fraud of "rice pulling", the maker has sketched the game plan with a fine brush, till the last stroke. There is no glossing over or glaring gaps in logic. In fact, things have been presented so convincingly well that you get a feeling that if this guy Babu were to talk to you, even you might fall for the bait. The director also needs a special pat for the dialogues. As a whole, SV scores very high on creativity and execution. Looking forward to Vinoth's next show. 

But my feeling on Tamil cinema, probably, was not only due to this movie. Over the past few months, I had also seen movies like Yaamirukka Bayamey, Vaayai Moodi Pesavum, Mundasupatti and Jigarthanda. So, in a sense, the feeling was a culmination of all this. The last movie on the list, starring Siddharth in the lead role was impressive right from the word go. There is a lot of talk that the plot has been lifted from a Korean movie, though that does not take away the brilliance of the movie. And full marks to Siddharth, for agreeing to do this film in which he does not have much role. Hats off to his confidence. The movie is about a Madurai goon Sethu. Bobby Simha as Sethu hogs the limelight. Simha carries the movie on his shoulders with a natural gait and it is quite a delight  to watch him. Truly stellar. Full marks to the director for transforming this cute, chubby boy of Soodhu Kavvum into a middle-aged rustic goonda, who instills terror even through his silence. The background score and songs by Santhosh Narayanan take the movie to a higher plane. Karthik Subburaj has followed up his successful Pizza with a grand Jigarthanda,with a taut script loaded with unexpected turns. Way to go! 

Probably it has to do with their internships with Mani Ratnam, just like Siddharth, Karthi too has agreed to pay the second fiddle in the first half of Madras. Directed by Pa. Ranjith, Madras is about the how big, dark world of politics sucks guileless souls into it and yes, how finally the good overcomes the evil. Set in north Chennai, in the backdrop of football, friendship and love, the movie traces the rivalry between two groups over a prime publicity wall that symbolises power. Though slow-paced at times and living with a predictable end, the script shines in its visual narrations of the opening scenes, montages at the middle and twists around the interval. K.Harikrishnan as Anbu has grabbed the meaty role offered to him with both the hands. Karthi as Kaali takes over in the second half, though we see shades of Naan Mahaan Alla. There is a lot of blood and songs in the second half. At least one of the two could have been avoided. The love portion is enjoyable. and we have a fresh find in Catherine Tresa as Kalaiarasi. In this movie too, Santhosh Narayanan adds fresh life with his music. The movie stands out in its authenticity but irresistibly Pollathavan comes to your mind. Extra care for the Chennai slang would have made the flow smoother. Overall, Madras should be a welcome break for Karthi after a string of legends like Saguni, Alex Pandian, Biriyani, etc. It is a good relief to see this immensely talented actor find his rhythm and perform as an artist, rather than assuming the role of a mindless mass hero of the mid-80s. Hope to see this Paruthiveeran back - without the company of Azhaguraja.

Bicycle diaries

During one of those post-lunch walks I got a chance to bump into a bicycle showroom. The store boys were considerably active for that time of the day. They were selling Specialized brand of these.. er..manually-powered two-wheeled vehicles called as bicycles once upon a time in India, and being fashionably but deceptively addressed as bikes now. In whatever way we may wish to call these things, even now it is us, who have to pedal these machines to make them ambulate over the surface of the road. (Too technical?) In the showroom, if my memory serves me right this time, there was no single model of such vehicles that was priced below Rs.10,000, inclusive of all taxes and the two, pre-fitted tires. There was a rainbow of accessories ranging from chic tool kits to water bottles to fuzzy helmets to designer gloves. Generally, as we grow old, we tend to talk less of the future and more and more of the past. It is for the reasons ranging from the obvious ones like you are racing faster towards your end and your battery does not have much life left, to the more complex or misconceived reasons like you feel your longer existence on this planet has by itself bestowed certain level of authority and credibility to whatever you say, and people listen to you in awe. I was remembering the first time (as accessible from my memory) I rode a bicycle on my own - without my father or anyone holding it and running along with me. During those days there used to be bicycle repair shops. Those guys there made lots of money from punctured tyres (not tires) and seat cover replacements and new dynamos and bells and carriers. They also gained much from renting out assorted bicycles of varying colours and heights to little kids and teenage girls, who were eager to tame these interesting vehicles. Many years back, I too was one of those kids (obviously). It was a tiny 2 or 3-footer, and my Eureka! moment was when I came down a slope accidentally. The first bicycle selfie (riding a bicycle on one's own, without any parental guidance) brings immense joy, as it meant you are a part of that elite, independent, laterally mobile group that was empowered to roam freely. It also meant that you need not ride monkey-pedal anymore.

I am not sure how it is in these days of unisex saloons, but during my times the main frame (not to be mixed up with gigantic computers that need a lot of cooling) of the bicycles were distinct for the boys' and the girls' models. Probably it had something to do with the cultural setting, the girls' model did not have the top, horizontal tube of the triangular frame that ran across the seat and the handle bar. And even when there is no other option but to use a bicycle, the boys preferred walking to riding those girls' bicycles. It gave a feeling similar to, say, how a boy feels when forced to wear a salwar. I would rather walk down to the ration shop than going there on a girls' bicycle, even it meant coming home carrying a few kilos of sugar. Bicycles also provided enough training, that would prove to be very useful during the hostel life, in breaking locks. Though there was always enough enthusiasm and sometimes tough competition to have the best key chains for one's bicycle keys, invariably one lost the key at least once in his bicycle career. (It is always "his"). Then you go around searching for that sturdy brick or robust stone to usher in freedom to your bicycle. For hostel rooms locks, during the later part of your life, you always had access to a hammer or those expert students, who derived immense satisfaction from breaking open these orphaned locks. We had a black Hercules at home that was bought close to fifty years back from this day. Of course he was not very old then. During our teens that black man should have been in his mid-twenties. My father recalls, it came with the number (like the unique, chasis number of motor cars) HG 2013, for a price of Rs.208; the extra accessories were stand, seat cover, bell, carrier, chain guard and the dynamo set. The year was 1967.

My affair with my metallic red BSA-SLR (not to be confused with Self Loading Rifle) continued till I graduated to a geared moped during my higher secondary days. Though by then we had a BSA-Mach (with ten gears) at home, ours was essentially a bicyclers' club that included the big boys like Hercules/Atlas and the trendy, just introduced ones like Hercules-MTB (Mountain Terrain Bike?). Generally the morning rides to the school were frenetic to avoid getting late and ending up standing outside the school gates, but the return trips were like those lazy strolls in parks, filled with gossips and cricket plans. There were occasional races too and in the place where I grew up, the winds are fierce during the monsoons, and its direction mattered a lot during such races. Depending on what you were up to, rains added more fun or created more hassle during such bicycle rides.

Cycling also brought its share of joys like riding without holding the handle bar or having slow cycling races and memorable troubles like having a worn out valve tube or a conked out chain. In spite of funky gadgets like carbon fibre helmets and fluorescent jerseys, I think one can have such petty fun and sweet troubles even while riding a Specialized bike.

The Legends' Club

KB (K.Balachander) is known as Iyakunar Sigaram, roughly The Pinnacle of Direction, in Kollywood. Born in 1930, KB was actively into theatre, before he went on to direct his first feature film. He was 35 years old then. What started with Neerkumkizhi rolled on like an unstoppable juggernaut and he went past 100 creations in the year 2001. Poi (2006) was his last movie till date. KB, known for his proficient screenplay and characterisation and an eye for talent - his greatest finds, probably being Rajnikanth and A.R.Rahman, is associated with cinemas till date. He is running 84 now. I am his great fan. Without getting into the debate of Critical acclaim vs Commercial hit, I think KB's last good movie was Azhagan (1991). I remember seeing this movie of quadrangular love story 3-4 times in cinema halls. I was 11 years old then. KB was 61. KB went on to direct only seven movies after Azhagan. Most of these seven movies were mega flops, and had nothing to remind us of those golden days of Bama Vijayam, Avargal, Sindhu Bhairavi or Ek Duuje Ke Liye. 

Clint Eastwood's Letters from Iwo Jima was released in 2006, the same year when KB's last feature film got released. At the 79th Academy Awards, Eastwood's war epic was nominated for three of the coveted categories - best direction, best picture and best original screenplay. Letters won the Golden Globe under the Best Foreign Language Film category. Eastwood was 76 years old then. And he was born in the same year in which KB was born - 1930. But Eastwood is not just a legend to be remembered; he is still a name to reckon with. The very same year when Tamil cinema's pinnacle had become a spent force, Eastwood had reached newer peaks. It did not end there, Eastwood gave us Changeling (IMDB: 7.8) and Gran Torino (8.2) - both in the year 2008. Though you may say, Eastwood is more remembered for his inimitable roles in The Dollars Trilogy than his directorial ventures and it is absurd to peg him with KB, the short point is - Eastwood has crossed 80 and still makes the audience look forward to his work and - delivers too. 

Bharathiraja is one of the path-breaking directors of Indian cinema. When it comes to a village plot, there is no one to match this master in screenplay and authenticity even today. He is credited with moving the cinema crew away from the childish village sets made inside Chennai studios to the actual village, bustling with life, stories and idiosyncrasies. If each cinema director is treated like a school, probably Bharathiraja will be the school with the maximum number of illustrious (direct/indirect) alumni with the likes of K.Bagyaraj, Parthiban, K.S.Ravi Kumar et al being a part of it. As a 36-year old, Bharathiraja launched his first creation 16 Vayathiniley - a movie that shattered the then existing shackles of cinema stereotypes. He followed up that work, released in 1977, with successive, radical, refreshing, memorable hits. I relished watching the ace director's Pudhiya Vaarpugal some years back. (Please click the link) In Muthal Mariyathai (1985) he brought out an entirely new dimension of unseen talent of the iconic actor Sivaji Ganesan. Incidentally, by then the thespian had completed 35 years of acting  and was already the undisputed God of acting in Tamil film industry. Cut to Hollywood. Born in the year 1942, Martin Scorsese is one year younger to Bharathiraja. But Scorsese made his directorial debut in 1967 - almost ten years earlier than Bharathiraja. Scorsese is 71 now, and his latest hits include The Wolf of Wall Street (2013, nominated for five Oscars including best picture and best director) and Hugo (2011, nominated for eleven Oscars). Two decades before The Wolf, around 1993/94, Bharathiraja peaked with Kizhakku Cheemayiley and Karuthamma. Broadly, sadly, beyond that it has been only days of gloom for his fans. Though there has been some flash here and there, the magic seems to have gone; unfortunately, almost forever. 

Steven Spielberg is not someone who has not crossed 60 years of age - the age of super-annuation in government of India. Just a few shades short of 70, Spielberg took the megaphone for Amblin (1968, short film), when he was only 22. Child prodigy? I don't think there is anyone else in Hollywood who could handle themes as diverse as sci-fi (E.T., Jurassic Park, Minority Report), adventure (Jaws, Indiana Jones), war (Saving Private Ryan), drama (The Terminal, Catch me if you can) and biopic (Schindler's List, Lincoln) with as equal ease as this talented filmmaker. I see Spielberg as the face of Hollywood in India. (I could have said this with much more conviction had it not been for the crazily creative guy called James Cameron). Among others, Spielberg has also inspired Mani Ratnam, whom I see as the face of Tamil cinema in Bollywood and one of the gems of Indian cinema known abroad. In Anjali (1990) this stylish, unassuming director had showcased his admiration for E.T. in one of the song sequences. Mani Ratnam, shot to national fame after Roja, is one among the firsts in the industry who really understood the medium of cinema - as being distinct from the stage plays or any other form that the crowd had experienced so far. It is not surprising that some of the acclaimed cinematographers like P.C.Sriram, Santosh Sivan and Rajiv Menon have worked with this director par excellence. Taking liberal help from the Western cinemas, Mani gave his audience a delectable dish that had the right blend of style and strength. He was alone in his own league without even a distant second. This gifted director was born a full ten years after Steven Spielberg. Mani made his debut in 1983, when he was 27 years old. Leaving out the biopic Guru (2007), arguably Mani's last real hit was the romantic drama, Alaipayuthey (2000) that had the same magic as his earlier best works. Unfortunately for us, Mani's latest two movies Kadal (2013) and Raavan (2010) miserably failed in their desperate attempts to take us back to those days of Nayagan (1987) or Roja (1992). 

After watching Kadal Mani's die-hard fans like me have elevated him to the category of legends like KB and Bharathiraja. Without such creative geniuses Tamil cinema would not have reached the place where it is now. These legends have given us enough to keep munching and cherishing lifelong, but you always keep wondering - why are the good days behind, so early?