The Bad, worse and the Best!!

I am done watching J Mahendran's classic 'Udhiri Pookkal' and I cannot help but applaud at Mahendran's milestone film. Vijayan's role as Sundaravadivel, the antagonist is one among few roles that will go down in Tamil film history as most memorable. Tamil filmdom has almost always stereotyped its villains-

Narai mudi Kaaman, the middle aged village headman with a wandering eye, feasting on every nubile girl he finds(in all padhinettu pattis);
the illiterate rural ruffian who wears the arivaal with panache, who happens to be the heroine's murai maaman;
the young, long haired blood thirsty villain of the Gautam Menon movies, swearing in English and Hindi;
the gun toting, Jeans and sneaker clad hitmen that frequent nightclubs and bars;
the corrupt politician/money launderer/smuggler living in palatial bungalows where he has skimpily clad girls run errands for him or dance in front of him.

The list goes on, but I swear I can come up with all possible kinds of Tamil villains given 24 hours. Not a second more. Sundaravadivel of Udhiri Pookkal doesn't fall into any of these categories. Hardly do you see him lose his cool, he is a family man with 2 kids running a school in a remote village. Yet his negativity is obvious. His conversation is clipped, to the point and crisp. You register each word instantly. He doesn't have a bunch of hooligans who will bid to his every whim and fancy, he runs as fast as he can, to find refuge, when the Panchayat results in a riot and the people want to wring his neck. His conversation with charu Haasan, his father in law and Haasan's caustic replies are a treat to watch. Where the average villain would have forced his wife to stay indoors after she decides to go, he lets her go and realizes he's helpless. His dialogue delivery after he assaults his sister in law sexually, is stunning.

And the final scene, where the villagers ambush him, he's classy! Hats off to Mahendran-  there's no compare! No wonder he won such critical acclaim for Udhiri Pookkal. And the actor has done justice to the role.

I have always been fascinated more with antagonists than with the protagonist in many a book/movie.

Nandini from Ponniyin Selvan, if you are willing to classify her as THE negative role in Ponniyin selvan, is the mother of all antagonists. I'd do no justice to the lady in a blog post, all ye, who can read Tamil, should read Ponniyin Selvan. It's an anubhavam, an experience that I cherish most. And Nandini is one of the foremost reasons it's my favourite most book. Kalki's characterisation of negative roles has impressed me- Nandini is the epitome of beauty, she can seduce anyone worth a gram of testosterone, she can challenge the most intellectual minds in the country, she is an enigma who manages to thwart everyone away from guesssing her true pursuit. She marries the aging Pazhuvettararayar and brings the whole kingdom under her thumb while you still grapple on whether you worship her or loathe her. She is the former love interest of the crown prince Aditya Karikalan who killed her father/lover- the Pandya king and hence she vows to decimate the Chola lineage. She manipulates every single man she meets and achieves what she wants, out of them. The story had it been written from the Pandya perspective, would have portrayed Nandini as the only protagonist.

Naganandhi from Kalki's Sivagamiyin Sabadham is yet another villain who impresses me. He's the brilliant architect of the Vatapi kingdom, like Chanakya being the brain of the Chandra Gupta kingdom. his war tactics are exemplary. He spies for the king, formulates war plans and administration. Pulikesi, his twin is crowned King of Vatapi while real power lies with Naga Nandhi- the wandering Buddhist monk. He is enigma personified; has enough venom flowing through his body to scare other venomous snakes away from him. He cannot be poisoned, for he has more potent poison in his body. He has a body of steel, his IQ is that of a super genius and his heart- he's lost it to Sivagami - the only flaw in him, for he is a Buddha Bhikshu and has vowed to a life of celibacy. His knowledge of arts and appreciation of aesthetics, his intellect and manipulative skills are mind boggling. Kalki Krishnamurthy shapes his antagonists uniquely. But Parthiban Kanavu, the sequel was a major let down, because he portrayed Naganandhi as an average mortal! Sheer injustice to what he had built in the prequel.

Dr Hannibal Lecter, the cannibalistic psychiatrist from 'The Silence of the Lambs' and its sequels/prequels is next on the list. Every piece of conversation between him and Clarice Starling is captivating. And the eventual relationship between an FBI agent and a cannibalistic serial killer.. well, you gotta read it to appreciate it!!

Other antagonists I have found memorable are:
Joker from the Batman series
The handsome Michael Corleone from The Godfather

Q n A

I wrote this aeons back.. around one and a half years back, when I was with Cognizant. Haven't been in a good mood all day and I dug this up...

The night sky outside welcomed me with its promise of fresh air; the room freshener inside was beginning to lose its initial intoxication it had on my senses. Notes from the Mandolin failed to interest me. The mental void inside me was jolted slightly by the cold metal doorknob. Momentary though. The moonless, pitch black sky with its million miniscule stars seemed to invite me with open hands. I felt in place among them, unlike amidst the myriad of Kancheevaram silks, Mysore silk crepes and lehengas sashaying across inside the wedding hall.


I wasn’t exactly claustrophobic but it did feel strange to be among a bunch of uncles, aunts, cousins and relatives who I meet once in an eon; during weddings when they realize that they once had a brother/cousin/nephew who left behind a family. That warrants an invitation sent across to mum. And that’s how I happened to be there. In the middle of nowhere, I told myself. A family that I didn’t know much about- except their names, a family that I could not associate myself with, except for the coffee brown complexion that I had acquired from dad. My own family, my very own roots. Strangers, people whose houses I’d not walk straight into and open their refrigerators for a raid.

I looked at those brown hands of mine- holding the metal railing… Dad’s brown skin… I don’t quite know for sure. It’s only hearsay. And a few photographs that lie in the cupboard back home. His passport, his driving license, his bank pass books, degree certificates… Newspaper clippings of articles that interested him. And I know nothing much else. Nothing that really matters.

I failed to notice the doorknob turn again and I was not quite happy to share the space with a newcomer. My solitude, it is my own sky today… My solace from the madding crowd. From people with whom I share 50 percent common gene.

‘I was your Dad’s classmate‘he said and continued ‘Throughout school’

I looked into his face expecting him to continue, for I didn’t quite know what to say. I had a million questions to ask. Like Amudha in Kannathil Mutthamittaal, when she meets her mom. But then, KM was a movie, Amudha was a kid. Not a 23 year old who’s expected to act her age. Besides, the screenplay was predefined in her case. I didn’t have the bound notebook with ‘Ten Questions to be asked if I come across Dad’s classmate’. I sometimes wish I had done that.

‘Oh… That’s great, so you REALLY knew him?’ I asked. Stupid question, I know. You needn’t tell me that. But what else do I say, when confronted by a stranger who knows lots of facts I’m dying to know.

Was he capitalist? Or socialist… Did he bunk classes? What movies did he watch? What books did he like? Did he read much at all? Rajni or Kamal? Sivaji or MGR?

Was he a back bencher like me? Studious geek or the cool dude? Did he ever flunk in a test? What did he do with his first salary? Did he play street cricket? Did he bowl or bat… who was his favorite sportsperson?

Did he have a crush on the Maths lecturer like I did in college? Would he have laughed over it if I had told him I had a crush on the lecturer… Or would he have blown over the top for that… Was he a teetotaler? Did he have a college sweetheart? Or was he the one who’s never made a fool out of himself…

Would he have been depressed on knowing that I was no good in CAT? That I was nowhere near the over achieving cousins? Would he have been happy to know that? Would he have accepted the fact nevertheless? What could a red mark in my report card have meant? Grounded weeklong? Advice? Or would he have signed it rightaway like Amma…

Appa, who was he? Remains a mystery to me. All these years and the years to come.

Questions, questions and questions… I asked none of them though… I don’t know what my eyes convened. Eagerness, inhibition, apprehension, hesitation… altogether?

He looked at me once, said ‘He was a good man’. He retraced his steps, reopened the doorknob, this time I didn’t miss the distinct sound of the turning knob… and he went back inside the hall.

My questions… I’ll take them to my grave, unanswered. Unlike Amudha.