Tag Archives: Nagesh

Saraswathi Sabatham (1966)

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When I started watching films which dealt with the classical stories involving Hindu Gods and Goddesses, I noticed a number of parallels with the legends I heard as a child growing up in Ireland. There are many books and articles which deal with the similarity between the two cultures, but every time I watch one of these films it strikes me all over again and is probably one of the reasons why I love these mythological films. The lavishness of the sets and the stunning costumes are other reasons to watch and enjoy but I really do appreciate the stories and the opportunity to learn more about the Hindu pantheon of Gods. A. P. Nagarajan made many successful mythological films in the sixties, and I’m hopeful that after the recent success of the restored classic Karnan some of Nagarajan’s films will get the same treatment and become more readily available with subtitles.

Saraswathi Sabatham is a little different from the other Tamil mythological films I’ve seen, as it uses a fictitious plot rather than stories from the Sanskrit epics. It still draws on the personalities and traits of the various Gods and there is a strong message behind the narrative but it’s a simple story which is charmingly told. The film opens with a lovely song featuring the Goddess of Knowledge, Saraswathi (Savitri) and her attendants.

Trouble enters into this beautiful and peaceful scene in the form of the sage Naradha (Sivaji Ganesan) who goads Saraswathi by claiming that wealth is more important than knowledge. After successfully riling Saraswathi, Naradha heads off to confront the Goddess Lakshmi (Devika) and again causes trouble by telling her that knowledge is more important than wealth. After successfully starting a rivalry between the two Goddesses, Naradha then adds the Goddess Parvati (Padmini) into the mix by claiming that wealth and knowledge are both more important than bravery. Despite some rather lacklustre protests from their husbands, Brahma, Shiva (Harnath) and Vishnu (Sivakumar), and even though they know that Naradha is a renowned trouble-maker, all three rise to the bait. Saraswathi, Lakshmi and Parvati each vow to make a champion for their cause on Earth and prove that their attribute is the most important while making the other two champions bow down before the winner.

Generally the different aspects of the three Goddesses are well depicted with Savitri appearing regal and dignified as Saraswathi. She conveys a sense of timeless wisdom in her manner, although still storms off in a huff when she gets annoyed with Naradha. Devika’s Lakshmi is playful and charming while Padmini is motherly to her children but feisty enough to challenge Shiva before Naradha intervenes with his teasing. The three Goddesses are also incredibly sparkly and although Lakshmi manages to out-glitter the other two it’s a close run contest.

Saraswathi chooses the mute son of a temple singer to be her champion. She gives Vidyapathi the power of speech and the knowledge to make him an accomplished poet who can sing her praises throughout the kingdom.

Coincidently choosing the same kingdom, Lakshmi uses her power to make a poor beggar girl queen. The ailing king, who has no heir, decides on a method of selecting his successor which will not open him to claims of favouritism. Acting on advice from his chief minister he gives an elephant a garland and decrees that the person garlanded by the elephant will be the next ruler. As he says, this is the perfect plan that no-one can object to – except perhaps the elephant who has to chase around after Selvambikar and then throw the flowers over her head.

Finally Parvati takes a total coward, Veeramallar (Gemini Ganesan) and turns him into a brave and fearless warrior, who quickly rises to be the new army chief as a result of his prowess in saving the queen when her horse bolts.

Vidyapathi, Selvambikai and Veeramallar all squabble amongst themselves as the three Goddesses jostle for power. Each character is full of their own importance and their arrogance is well portrayed by the three actors. Sivaji Ganesan is excellent as Vidyapathi. His transformation completely changes his personality and he is wonderfully condescending and self-righteous as Saraswathi’s champion.

K. R. Vijaya is beautiful, and her change from the poverty stricken beggar girl to haughty queen is just as convincing. Her Selvambikai still has an air of vulnerability despite her arrogance and pride which makes her the most sympathetic of the three and she does also get to wear some lovely sparkly costumes. I almost didn’t recognise Gemini Ganesan here compared to the young romantic in Kalyana Parisu but he has plenty of screen presence as the blustering warrior, although his character doesn’t have quite as much background as the other two.

There are clashes between Vidyapathi and Selvambikai as the poet refuses to sing in praise of the queen. More clashes occur between Veeramallar and Selvambikai as the warrior oversteps his authority, while Vidyapathi and Veeramallar are at odds from the moment they meet. Each embodies the attribute of their patron Goddess and none of them are prepared to back down. Of course it all gets resolved with a suitably moral ending, but it’s the conflicts between the various characters that make the film so entertaining. Plus the chance to see Sivaji Ganesan in a pink outfit with matching pink outfits for his guards.

The sets are fantastic and Lakshmi’s heavenly abode is incredibly golden and extravagant. Naradha walks through the clouds (although the rainbow he stands on isn’t one found in nature), and while there aren’t very many other special effects, they tend to be well used – such as when letters appear as Vidyapathi sings about his new ability to speak.

There is a comedy track featuring Nagesh and Manorama which fits into the story although Nagesh’s character is more successful. Unfortunately subtitles don’t really convey Manorama’s speech patterns which are the basis for the humour in her character.  All the lead actors are excellent but Sivaji Ganesan really stands out as both Naradha and Vidyapathi. He has some wonderful expressions and a real twinkle in his eye while he teases everyone as Naradha, and he keeps the character light and mischievous. He has the same liveliness as Vidyapathi but gives a sense of smugness and conceit rather than the teasing nature of Naradha and his anguish and despair as the mute temple worker praying to Saraswathi is very moving.

The music by K. V. Mahadevan is beautiful and the lyrics by Kannadasan work well even in their English translation. As always I would have liked a little more dancing, although there is a short piece of Bharatanatyam by Padmini to enjoy. It’s probably not a film for everyone’s tastes as the story develops slowly and there is a lot of wordy interplay between the characters to establish the conflict. However for fans of Tamil mythological films, A. P. Nagarajan takes a simple story and aided by excellent performances from his all-star cast makes Saraswathi Sabatham an entertaining and appealing watch.  3 ½ stars.

Thiruvilayadal

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Thiruvilayadal is a wonderfully embellished pastel confection of a film, supported by a powerful performance from Sivaji Ganesan as Shiva. Thank you to Suja and Ajit for their enthusiastic recommendations. I am also very grateful to the rajshritamil channel on Youtube for making the film available with subtitles. Suja asked how meaningful or interesting a vintage devotional film would be to a non-Hindu? The answer is – very!

I was raised Catholic which, as a friend said recently, is the glitzy end of Christianity. Catholicism incorporates numerous saints, some having their own specialities or areas of influence so the faithful can pray to the one best placed for their situation. They are identifiable by different visual elements and props, often referencing a gruesome means of death if the saint had been martyred. So the colour, pageantry, stylised imagery and iconography of a devotional film are familiar elements for me even though the philosophy and faith are different. One of the biggest differences is something I remarked on after watching Mayabazar. The relationship with God as depicted seems a lot more direct and personal than I am used to. And Shiva is not immune from displaying vanity and caprice as well as humour and tolerance, so I found it a more human interpretation of God.

I suspect more than one team was responsible for the subtitles. Why? Lord Shiva speaks like this occasionally:

While fisherfolk in a rustic village complain thus:

Anyway, the story begins as a resplendent Shiva (Sivaji Ganesan) receives the praise of his devotees, including his wife Parvati (Savitri), which promotes that groovy mood.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLVc5so-jjM

Even divine families have their squabbles and a contest between Ganesh and Murugan ends when Ganesh uses his erudition to define the question and win the prize. Murugan is incensed by losing to his sibling and leaves home. Parvati tries to persuade Murugan to return, and explains that it is Shiva’s way to test his devotees.

She narrates several stories of Shiva’s ‘games’ to persuade her son that there was no insult intended. The stories are very entertaining and the format allows different aspects of Shiva to be explored in array of visually delightful settings. Again, the theme of God testing the faith of an individual is a familiar one to me, but the style and methodology do differ.

Shiva tests the knowledge (and ego) of a renowned scholar and teases a poor poet. Both get their rewards, but for Shiva the reward seems to be the fun of the game.

And for the viewer, we get an answer to the vexing question ‘Does a woman’s hair possess a natural perfume?’ Muthuraman and Devika are lovely as the King and his glamorous queen, and their ornate palace is stunning.

Sivaji Ganesan revels in the role, exuding a majesty and playfulness that makes him compelling. He is not what I would call handsome but he is absolutely magnetic. His larger than life style is perfect for Shiva. I love this song, performed by Shiva posing as a firewood vendor. An arrogant musician challenges the Tamil court to best him, and the kingdom is at stake. Shiva sets up outside the musician’s residence and psychs him out before the contest by singing a song so perfect it stops the birds in the air and the waves in the ocean. Even if you don’t love the music as much as I did, watch this clip for Shiva’s exuberance and joy in creation and art, and his pleasure in being really annoying.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xg_hBWlR3h0

Savitri is regal and composed as Parvati. She has endured Shiva’s whims for aeons. She is his equal in temper, but he wields his destructive power without fear of consequences where she is more restrained. Once, after momentarily diverting her attention from her husband to her son, she was punished by being born in a fishing village with no memory of her divine nature. I think that was a harsh reward for good parenting. Parvati showed herself to be a leader in a human incarnation while in the village. I also enjoyed seeing Manorama as one of her girlfriends.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DDWHo03Q_2A

Of course Shiva wasn’t going to let anyone else win his wife in the ‘he who is bravest’ competition, so he appeared as a mysterious heroic fisherman.

Their flirting was cheesy but lots of fun. And this episode includes one of my favourite filmi things. A shark fight! Admittedly it is more like a rubber whale with dentures in some shots, but look upon the mighty beast and despair!

Shiva defeated the shark, won the girl and kindly restored her to her former glory.

The comedy is character driven and fits into the main narrative. Nagesh plays a poor poet who becomes a pawn in Shiva’s game. His mix of rapacity and naivete is funny without being too much. Shiva’s answers to questions by mortals are often a witty partial truth or play on words. It’s a sprightly and engaging film.

The subtitles are generally very good but I did have some questions about the translations. The balance of Shiva and Shakti is the subject of one story, with neither being able to exist without the other – the balance of opposing forces. After a squabble over her father Shiva uses his power as the destroyer and Parvati/Shakti’s lifeforce is vanquished. (The dance of destruction is dramatic but not terribly accomplished.)

The senior gods intervene and remind Shiva that without her the world becomes barren and dark and he relents and restores her. There are a couple of dialogue exchanges about how all women must submit to their husbands that seem at odds with the theological position. I wonder if it was translation that chose ‘submit’ when the actual word was more nuanced, or if it reflects other beliefs. This image seems to support a balance rather than the dominance of one aspect suggested by the script.

There is a strong theme of the purity and beauty of Tamil language and culture and Shiva rewards those who love and protect the tongue. Many key supporting characters are Tamil scholars and are accorded great respect and some indulgence by the gods. Since this is from the 60s maybe the positioning of Tamil culture and language as superior and preferred by the gods was a reflection of the Dravidian movement or other factors? I’m sure someone will tell me.

K.V Mahadevan’s music is not only enjoyable but is integral to the stories. The art design is just wonderful. There is such a wealth of beautiful detail, right down to treasures like the fish themed musical instruments and a fabulous bird shower.

The central performers are brilliant, the stories are engaging, and it is a pleasure to see and listen to. There is so much to enjoy in Thiruvilayadal whether you watch it as a colourful entertainment or with a more philosophical analysis. 5 stars!

Heather says: This is a simply a beautiful film. The colours are amazingly bright and it is incredibly iridescent and sparkly throughout. From the opening song and dance until the very end it is captivating with beautiful music and stunning performances. I think this was the first film I saw with Sivaji Genesan and he seems to be the perfect person to play Lord Shiva. He has such charm and brings so much character into the role. I particularly love his Tandava dance after the death of Sakthi where his facial expressions are superb and I love that he dances with his eyes. My dance teacher keeps telling me this is how to dance properly, and this is the perfect example of how much it brings to the performance. Even if as temple points out he’s not technically perfect otherwise. My favourite story is the one about the musician Hemanathan and the song above where there are multiple Lord Shiva’s playing different musical instruments is brilliantly done. Considering the film was made in the sixties and the special effects were presumably rather limited, it’s all put together very well and creates a magical effect every time I see it. And I totally agree with Temple’s comments about the subtitles – the ‘I feel groovy’ perhaps is showing the influence of the sixties, but some of the rest I have no explanation for at all.

There is at times so much detail in the film that at times it distracts a little from the main action for me. The backing musicians during Hemanathan’s performance have amazing facial expressions and really get into the music. I tend to end up watching them and the various other servants and hangers-on rather than concentrating on the lead characters. But then again, so much of the detail is charming. There is the fish tika on Kayarkani’s forehead as the fisherman’s daughter, the wonderful peacock chariot that carries Hemanathan to the Pandian King and Shiva’s third eye that blinks just to name a few.

Thiruvilaiyadal is an absolute classic, and as a friend said when we were discussing the film, it’s one to watch again and again. 5 stars.

Thillana Mohanambal

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Padmini is Mohanambal, a beautiful and exceptionally talented bharatanatyam dancer. Sivaji Ganesan is the less beautiful but equally talented musician, nadaswaram player Sikkal Shanmughan. Crossing paths at a temple festival sparks fly between them but within minutes they go from this:

To this:

They challenge each other to a contest of dance versus music at some later date. So the stage is set for a fiery romance, riddled with misunderstanding, thwarted by pride and a meddling mother (Vadivambal, played by C.K. Saraswathi).

Mohana believes that dance is for everyone and for all occasions, inspired by the world around the dancer as well as a gift of god. Sikkal is more of a princess, demanding that his audience give him full attention and due reverence as he displays his gift. He believes art exists for god and for the artist. He refuses Mohana’s invitation to stay and watch her dance, but sneaks back later to see this.

There are some interesting observations on women in the performing arts and Mohana is certainly subject to some assumptions by men who desire her beauty and talent. Her mother seeks to ensure a wealthy man as her daughter’s protector or husband, but Mohana rejects all offers even before her feelings for Shanmughan are an issue. Nagalingam (K Balaji) is one thwarted suitor and a kidnapping attempt results in a comedy fight scene that I could have done without. I don’t quite get the undersized guy with stupid hair as instant hilarity, and there are two of them (double the fun?). This diversion means Mohana and her group catch the same train as Sikkal who has been waiting in the hopes they might turn up.

Padmini is gorgeous and her dance training is evident in her deportment and expressions as she uses all of her skill in conveying Mohana’s emotions. She also does an exceptionally good eyelash flutter. Sivaji is more old school theatrical, and lays it on almost as thick as his makeup. But his somewhat rubbery face is wonderfully expressive, especially his eyes, and he does have palpable chemistry with Padmini. There is a delightful scene of wordless communication and voiceover on the train journey that is funny, romantic and beautiful.

There is lots of sparring between the two and she is not the heroine to fall in love and lose her sense of self. I liked seeing a young lady who was a bit of a brat, very self-confident, and who felt no need to be apologetic. I don’t think I would enjoy her half as much in real life, but she did keep my attention in the film. And there was no suggestion that she should give up dancing to be a servant of Sikkal’s muse. She was a dancer and was valued for her gift.

There are abundant comedy elements. Manorama is Jil Jil Ramamani, a folk dancer and girl of suspect virtue. Her ‘comic’ dances are strange, and perhaps the subtitle team decided to make sure we knew this was a modern film:

In addition to being the butt of many jokes, she does play a significant role at several points in the story. Manorama made her character both a caricature and quite sympathetic. I was left thinking Jil Jil understood herself and how others saw her, and she retained some dignity despite the silliness. Nagesh as Vaithy had a role that just irritated me. He is a Jerry Lewis kind of character, so if you like the style, you may have warmer feelings towards him than I do.

His presence extends the story with pranks and frauds, and a longwinded and obtuse approach to being a go-between. The supporting characters are pretty broadly drawn and usually played for comedic effect or buffoonery. There is some excellent face throughout.

There are pointed references to the issues of art versus money, the dedication of great artists and who owns art.  Sikkal storms out of a private party rather than be ‘owned’ by the landlord and plays an impromptu concert to the locals gathered outside. I particularly enjoy this face off where the classical versus modern question is settled judging by the smug expression on Sivaji’s face (wait for the white couple to turn up at about 4 min):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XAATvR7kXWk

Mohana is pursued with increasing vigour by the landlord and the ensuing scenes are quite farcical. I was quite annoyed that Sikkal immediately assumed Mohana was playing him, without speaking to her or investigating. He just did the heroic leap to the conclusion that she was duplicitous and decided to feel sorry for himself. I might have been more tolerant of manly brooding in a more attractive character, but really I just wanted to slap him. He then departs to sulk with Jil Jil, now calling herself Rosarani, who owns a drama company. Word of this gets back to Mohana who knows about his misunderstanding but had hoped he might still be interested. Rather than giving up, judging or moping, she decides to confront him.

Jil Jil and Mohana show themselves to be more decisive and action oriented than many a filmi heroine. I have doubts over the subtitle translation of some of the relationships as people refer to the landlord wanting Mohana to live with him, but he is also referred to as a groom, there is mention of dowry and so on and he has a wife already. In one scene, Padmini begs him not to spoil both their lives and mentions women being enslaved by money. So I am guessing she would have been his mistress but perhaps the subtitle team decided to sanitise the arrangements. Regardless, her modesty and chastity helps to persuade the landlord to be a brother rather than a suitor.

Mohana knew that the only way to keep Sikkal from leaving India with Jil Jil was to appeal to his artistic pride. The Thillana contest goes ahead. Nagalingam returns for skulduggery resulting in Sikkal taking a knife to the arm. Sivaji really milks the scene, thrashing around like a fish out of water for what seems like minutes. This injury prompts a further outbreak of overacting, and Sikkal gets another opportunity to feel sorry for himself again. Thanks to yet another smart competent woman (his nurse Mary) he begins to see that perhaps he has been a little narrow minded.

The finale is predictable but unravels over yet another complex scheme to sell Mohana, this time to a King. She defends herself, verbally and physically, and finds an ally in the very peculiarly accented Queen. Her chastity proves transformative once again, and the King decides to be a good husband.

Sikkal jumps to conclusions (yes, again!) and flings himself around chewing the scenery. This time Mohana has had enough and decides to resolve things. The climax is very filmi and over the top but the duelling diva personalities of the leads made it less unbelievable than it might have been.

This is such a pretty film. The ladies wear beautiful jewellery and costumes, there are lots of sparkly things, the temple locations and houses are lovely. It also has quite a timeless feel, with only a couple of scenes overtly placing the story in the late 1960s. The story is an overblown romantic melodrama but the theme of art and excellence gives the characters much more substance than I expected.  The female characters stand on their own feet, and have their own plans and desires. Padmini and Sivaji are exceptional and really made me care about their relationship even as their characters annoyed me sometimes. And of course, Padmini’s dancing alone makes this worth a look. Who won the contest you ask?  Art was the winner! 4 stars.