Is Malayalam Cinema 'Play'ing Safe?

'Play'ing Safe?

Kerala's theatre heritage has found scant representation in Malayalam cinema. How well has this handful of films depicted stagecraft on screen? Neelima Menon explores.

IN Anand Ekarshi’s Aattam , the lone woman in a 12-member theatre group is molested after a late-night party. And though Anjali (Zarin Shihab) was half-asleep and tipsy, she is sure her attacker is one of the group's lead actors. The incident comes to light only the next day when she informs her lover and co-actor (Vinay Fort) in the troupe. Meanwhile, her boyfriend is secretly pleased as he wants to manipulate this situation in his favour to oust the lead actor. Though Anjali would rather not take the matter any further, perceptive about society’s skeptical lens, Vinay (the character) emotionally manipulates her into bringing up this issue in front of the members. Here, a crime is the catalyst that exposes the inherent patriarchy in the group. For Anjali, who had previously felt secure in the group, this is an uncomfortable revelation, one that helps her see the wolves in sheep’s clothing. The very men she thought would have her back are now casting aspersions on her dignity.

Ekarshi stages the confrontation like performance art, allowing the audience to participate and drift into the artists' world. We are almost provided a live, communal experience as we think, comprehend, and get involved in the character’s predicament. Like in theatre, we seem to be sharing the physical space with the actors. Theatre as a ‘social art form’ is brilliantly used here, especially in the grand finale.

A crime unravels against the backdrop of the theatre world in KG George’s Yavanika as well. When their chief drummer goes missing, it leads to an investigation, uncovering skeletons long buried in a troupe's closet. The narrative works more as a police procedural though KG George documents the workings of a theatre company fastidiously: the rigmarole stage artists go through, the rehearsals, the uncertainties, the exploitation, and the economics of it all. One also gets the community feeling that embodies a theatre group.

In Siddique’s Mannar Mathai Speaking , however, you have a lighter narrative amid a similar setting of a drama company, headlined by Mannar Mathai (played by Innocent). If the original film depicts how the elderly Mathaichan’s Urvashi Theatres is almost out of business, and how he agrees with the madcap heist plans of Balakrishnan (Mukesh) and Gopalakrishnan (Sai Kumar), in a desperate attempt to save it, then in the sequel, we privy to the workings of a thriving drama troupe that is in search of a new heroine. Here, the plot barely gets into the nitty-gritties of theatre and soon segues into a thriller.

Bharathan’s Chamayam is set in a fisherman’s village with the central character (Murali) playing a theatre artist. He puts up plays regularly in the village and is both feared and loved by his troupe. A veteran who has mastered the nuances of theatre acting, he is also portrayed as a hard taskmaster. Though considered one of the legendary filmmaker’s weakest works, the narrative still captures the essence of theatre and its acolytes. One of the nicest moments involves the Master discovering his protégé (Manoj K Jayan) in the hero. But unfortunately, Chamayam gets embroiled in needless sub-plots, thereby diluting the core of the story.

Meanwhile, Kamal’s Nadan is a frail attempt to explore the deteriorating theatre culture in Kerala. At the centre, you have a theatre actor (Jayaram) who was once the reigning star of a renowned theatre group and is now left on the sidelines owing to the poor personal choices (such as adultery) he has made. Though there are hints about theatre giving way to more profitable means of entertainment, the narrative soon deviates into a family melodrama.

In Sathyan Anthikad’s Veendum Chila Veettukaryangal, which centres on a middle-class Christian family, theatre is more a means to forge bonds and have fun. Even though the patriarch Kochuthomma (Thilakan) fronts a church-sponsored theatre troupe, theatre is merely coincidental. It’s dealt with in typical Sathyan Anthikad feel-good style, and the intricacies of the art form are just skimmed on the surface. Except maybe for occasional exchanges between the dad and the son (Jayaram) about acting and theatre.

A similar comic scenario is seen in Annan Thambi, which has the hero (who is also mute; Mammootty in a double role) being part of a local ballet troupe. In Daivathinte Swantham Cleetus a middling comedy-drama, though there is this interesting layering of whether you can separate the art from the artist, it is never explored beyond the superficial. Cleetus (Mammootty) is roped in to play Jesus Christ by a priest for his church play who then realises that his leading man has an unsavoury reputation.

We have had some of the finest actors from the world of theatre in Malayalam cinema. And for a state that has a rich and thriving theatre culture, boasting of several iconic troupes, it is sad that Malayalam cinema has never really ventured deep into the history or nuances of the art form. Aattam could be a start.

Like what you read? Get more of what you like. Visit the OTTplay website, or download the app to stay up-to-date with news, recommendations and special offers on streaming content.

Plus: always get the latest reviews. Sign up for our newsletters.

OUR OTHER NEWSLETTERS

This weekly newsletter compiles a list of the latest (and most important) reviews from OTTplay so you can figure what to watch or ditch over the weekend ahead.

Each week, our editors pick one long-form, writerly piece that they think it worthy of your attention, and dice it into easily digestible bits for you to mull over.

In which we invite a scholar of cinema, devotee of the moving image, to write a prose poem dedicated to their poison of choice. Expect to spend an
hour on this.