Aboorva Sahodharargall

 

In my write-up about Kamal Hassan, I used the term ‘commercial classic’ while referring to “Aboorva Sahodharargall,” one of my favorite movies of the 80’s and arguably one of the best entertainers of all times.  I used that term to convey that a traditional ‘masala movie’ theme could be, with innovation and an awesome screenplay, made into a movie that has all the elements necessary to bring in crowds, yet never seems to pander to cheap taste.  In other words, this is class combined with commercial stuff that satisfied both the classes and the masses.

 

The movie’s first 20 minutes brings in all the stock characters of a masala movie.  4 detestable villains, an honest police officer, his crusade against the evil, and how his twins are separated at birth due to circumstances.  It is the performances that hold our attention in this sequence.  Kamal Hassan as the police officer, Srividya as the suffering wife and Nagesh as the main villain combine to create unforgettable images.  Ilayaraja’s background score creates a numbing effect in this crucial typical-yet-well done sequence. 

 

Kamal’s screenplay takes over once the movie starts showing the lives of Appu and Raja, the twins.  The supporting characters like Gowthami, Mouli and Manorama add to the fun in the beginning.  It is with Rupini’s introduction that the story moves into top gear.  Kamal Hassan has the viewer spellbound in the 10-minute sequence starting from the scene in the taxi (the famous registrar office scene) till the start of the “Unnai Nenachaen” song.  His flabbergasted reaction, the expressions on his mobile face and his underplaying are memorable.  This part is the crucial link to the main story because this forces Srividya to come out with the truth regarding Appu’s birth. 

 

Post-interval the movie is one helluva ride starting with Delhi Ganesh’s murder.  Kudos to Kamal’s idea, Thotta Tharani’s set and Crazy Mohan’s dialogues that make this one of the best conceived, crisp murder scenes in Tamil Cinema.  Notice how P.C. Sreeram’s camera non-intrusively captures the set piece in its full glory without missing out on the key details.

 

Janakaraj’s late entry (along with his sycophantic assistant played by Shivaji Rao) as the inept inspector ensures more laughs.  The genius in the performance is that he never tries to be too funny.  And the laughs aren’t uncomfortable either because we’re cheering the death of the villains.  The killings of Nasser and Jaishankar are well done and the way the Raja character is accused (Manorama’sAiyyayyo” routine at the police station is side splittingly funny) adds to the tempo and increases the excitement without being too preposterous.  Janakaraj’s chase of Kamal Hassan is extremely well choreographed by Vikram Dharma—it is neither too staged nor too serious.

 

Kamal Hassan turns in one of his best performances in this movie as the loveable, intelligent Appu.  It is probably one of Tamil Cinema’s longest held secrets as to how he played the dwarf.  In the many number of times that I have seen this movie, not once have I been able to even make a guess as to how he did it.  On a related note, it is appreciable that it never calls too much attention to itself, hence remains a convincing illusion.

 

The supporting cast is uniformly excellent.  All the supporting players play their part to the needs of the screenplay.  Ditto for the technical crew—P.C. Sreeram’s camerawork is awesome (needless to sayJ) and so are Thotta Tharani’s sets and Lenin-Vijayan’s editing.  Illayaraja too does his job with a mind blowing soundtrack.  Every song from the ever popular “Raja Kaiya Vecha,” the playful “Pudhu Mappillaikki” to the melodious “Unnai Nenache Paattu Padichen” are all old-but-gold tunes.  Vaali’s lyrics for the last mentioned song (Kottum Mazhai Kaalam Uppu Virka Poanaen, Kaattradikkum Neram Maavu Virka Poanen) are haunting.

 

A great team led by a great captain gives us an unforgettable 2.5 hours that should go in the annals of tamil cinema as one of the best ever entertainers committed to screen.

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