The Hindu Business Line : Hero shines, but sorry there’s no story

“Anna, Dasavatharam is a grand success in Chennai,” said Dadi Ganesh, the first reference point on Tamil films for the entire family. When in a bad mood, he looks up to Shivaji, MGR, Rajni and Kamal though not in that order.

Tamil films run in the family – his younger brother Kumar has a collection of Tamil film songs. Their mother Girija (my aunt), given a chance, may at 70, like to direct a Tamil film though these days she splits her affections with Mohanlal of Kerala. Dadi Ganesh has not yet seen the film but has sources in Chennai to brief him on Dasavatharam.

My family of four went for the first show, first Friday to watch Dasavatharam at In Orbit in Malad, with son Ganesh having booked the tickets in advance. For a change, In Orbit was jangling with Tamilians of Mumbai – mostly accountants and computer experts. Husbands had brought their wives, grandfathers held hands of grandmothers, expectations were on a throb. “Namba Kamal machan (Our Kamal),” said a young man to his friend.

Though we started from home an hour ahead for the 12.45 afternoon show, our auto could not make it in time owing to a short burst of rain flooding the recently laid out Link Road to halt the entire output of India’s automobile industry (In Mumbai, every kid seems to own a car). We missed two shots at best and were in our seats as Kamal went down into the sea with his god — wish he had gone down forever, instead of popping up in some US lab having on hand a chemical to kill large populations.

Kamal should, at least, have given the option to the public to drown themselves. Kamal, after all, decides everything. One Kamal on screen is judicial custody for the viewer; 10 Kamals in one frame is life-term imprisonment. The film goes on and on, with neither Kamal nor the public being able to get into the story; sorry, one realises towards the end there is no story.

For weeks, the media including our TV news channels (who are busy running a murder serial called Arushi, says my friend Ashok), praised the technical finesse of Padma Shri Dr. Kamal Haasan. One could not spot anything, though to be fair, wife Rama and Ganesh enjoyed (they clapped and stopped chewing the popcorn served inside the hall by young kids) it all. “Come on, Kamal,” chorused Ganesh as Kamal kills a second Kamal, while a third Kamal (an old woman) walks over the shoulders of a few priests and on and on ….

Possibly, Dasavatharam is the only film this writer has seen where Kamal applauds Kamal in the last few shots. Gentle reader, do not conclude this writer is an intellectual. One has been at the theatres to appreciate Kamal, much before Dadi Ganesh (this Ganesh has a beard) and many others. One has liked watching Apoorva Ragangal, Nayagan, Pushpak, Anbe Sivam, Hey Ram and a few others, where the film has only one Kamal and not 10 Kamals as a punitive distraction.

In recent times, instead of telling a story well, he alters his face and body for special effects; in Dasavatharam, he is not convincing as President Bush nor as anyone else. Any bathroom singer could have come up with better music. My relatives in Delhi and Chennai called up to say, Dasavatharam is super. Hari, my brother-in-law stationed in Chennai, had this to say: For Tamils, a motion picture is their life in motion. They will starve but have to go to a show and Dasavatharam is doing well.

Seemingly, In Orbit has been booked for days. Stepping out, one overheard an old lady telling her husband in Tamil, “Eppo theerumondu aiyurthu (One wondered when it would all end)”, and this writer thought Dasavatharam would never end. “Onrum puriavillai (Couldn’t understand),” said a youngster to his friend who replied, “Athuthan Kamal (That’s Kamal).”

For this writer, Dasavatharam is something like the debate on the nuclear deal. It just could be Kamal got the idea from the reports on the nuclear deal and put a bit of Tamil masala. One has not understood anything of the nuclear deal, despite reading all the correspondents on print and channels. Most of us are not to be blamed as the nuclear bureaucracy has kept everything away from you and me. If you ask a tricky question, the nuclear scientists will send you to prison. “We know it and you better believe us”, has been the refrain and one doubts whether our politicians grasp the deal.

Every politician wants to be in power and that survival instinct will keep all nuclear deals, good or bad, in or out. Now there is talk of sending Dasavatharam to Cannes or Oscars (like sending the nuclear deal to the US) and it is just possible the judges may award the film without a look-in.

One came home, made a cup of strong coffee and laughed at Charlie Chaplin in the Tramp. Maybe it is insulting for a director to make films which the paying public can understand. It would be best for Kamal to take a break. But no, he is on to making something worse and India be blessed.

One read about the Marathi film Tingya in the Shanta Gokhale piece in Mumbai Mirror and did see it at Raghuleela with a crowd of 10 viewers on an afternoon. Gokhale writes: ‘The legend is that a young man from Junnar, Mangesh Hadawale, wanted to make a film about a boy and a bull. He narrates his script to 41 producers, all of whom said it was a good story, but sorry, not their cup of tea. The 42nd producer was Ravi Rai. Rai heard the story and said “let’s make it”. His only stipulation was, “Make it exactly as you told it”. And Tingya made the screens with only a few watching him. There is a moment when Tingya quizzes his father, ‘You do not kill grandmother because she is weak; but you will send my old bull to a knacker’.”

Tingya is lanes ahead of Dasavatharam. Tingya has no public; Dasavatharam has.

P. Devarajan

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Hero shines, but sorry there’s no story