Nobody could accuse Mani Ratnam of making the same kind of films. Yes, the characters in his movies have a set type of speech patterns (terse; sometimes scathing) and he has used similar character types in a number of his movies (the perky, romantic heroes and heroines mouthing cute one-liners). He has even experimented multiple times with the same genres ("Roja," "Bombay" and "Dil Se" for instance, all fall into one group, though we should give him credit for inventing a genre altogether!). But what has sometimes gone unnoticed is that he has also displayed some astonishing breadth-- "Nayagan" (about a don), "Idhayathai Thirudaathey" (a love story) and "Anjali" which came in a space of four years are all different from each other in virtually every sense of the word.
His features have multiple layers that are always open to analysis and we usually discover a new facet of his filmmaking with every motion picture of his. In "Anjali," one of his spellbinding classics, we see him getting deep into the psyche of a suffering mother, a father hiding something unimaginable from the family, two kids who cannot accept the 'change' that they face and above all, getting us into the beautiful world of a mentally challenged child who is all of two-and-a-half years. We could fool ourselves by dismissing this as a chick-flick-- this is one film that would awaken the sometimes dormant humanity in us.
Shekar (Raghuvaran), Chitra (Revathi) and their two kids, Anu and Arjun are a regular, happy, upper-middle class family who seem to be living happily in their new place. There are signs along the way (the scene at the dinner table where Anu tells them that Sept 18th was the day Anjali was born, is deeply moving) that something might be percolating just beneath the happy exteriors. Mani slowly escalates the tension level in the half hour before the intermission with Raghuvaran's clandestine activities arousing the suspicion of the family members. The reason behind his meetings with a doctor (played with a lot of empathy and warmth by Sharanya, in a cameo) are revealed in a stunning sequence where Raghuvaran tells a shell-shocked Revathi that what she thought was a stillborn child is still alive but is mentally challenged. The second half is about how the family members learn to accept the child and how the vagaries of fate take their own course...
Anjali has two vastly different halves. The first half (except for the hypnotic effect of the 10-minute sequence at the hospital) is full of fun and frolic. The focus is on the cute antics of the kids in the apartment complex. Though its obvious sometimes that the kids' actions far exceed their age, there are a lot of laughs and an innocent charm in watching them utter those witty one-liners (watch the kid answer his Dad about why he punctured one of his bike tires). Lively supporting characters galore, the first half virtually depends on them for notching up the entertainment value-- "Poornam" Vishwanathan, Late. VKR, Anand and his girl friend, Janakaraj (as a deranged old man), 'Pasi' Satya (playing Janakaraj's wife), Krishnan and Prabhu (in a special appearance) all have offbeat characters that are tenuously linked to the main story but nevertheless have delightful stand-alone moments. Among the secondary characters, the standout is Prabhu, breathing life into his role with an understated performance.
The second half is where we get to explore the depths of human emotion. Its basically a series of scenes which portray an 'adaptation' phase in the lives of these characters. Anjali cannot relate to her mother; the kids cannot accept a 'strange' kid as their sis; Raghuvaran has to deal with these people not able to fully comprehend the significance of the new entrant and so on...The second half moves at a slow pace and that is exactly the way it should be-- the scenes are haunting and mesmerizing mainly due to the unhurried way in which they unfold. Its these artistic choices in film-making that make Mani Ratnam the auteur he is-- it would've been impossible to gain such depth and profundity had he moved things along at a fast clip.
In terms of the performances, this is a true ensemble piece with many of the players, aided by distinctive characterizations, giving finely tuned, sometimes heartbreaking portrayals. Revathi gave two of her most sensitive acting turns in "Mouna Raagam" and this one. Here, it is a deeply affecting performance and she delicately brings forth the emotional breakdown of a character whose fragile heart is broken to pieces by the twists of destiny. She casts a spell on the audience in the scene where she responds to her daughter calling her "Amma" for the first (and last) time. Raghuvaran, the master of understated character acting, is perfectly cast as the person who loves his family and yet has to be a tad dishonest to them. Raghuvaran is a performer who can evoke respect and awe automatically with his patient way of explaining something and he does exactly that in the scene where she literally enlightens the kids (and us) on why Anjali was born. Mani Ratnam is probably the most effective director when it comes to handling child artistes and "Anjali" gives testimony to that-- both the kids (the ones playing Anjali's elder sister and brother) are wonderful throughout the movie. They are cute and endearing in the first half whilst revealing their acting abilities in the second-- watch Tarun proudly stating (in front of a group of kids in the car shed) that Anjali is his sister. Of course, the girl will be best remembered for the climax of the movie. In a powerful cathartic moment, the kid's outburst of emotions is a humbling moment for Mani's detractors. But all said and done, the youngest player in this movie is the one who weaves the magic dream. To say that Baby Shaamili was enchanting in the movie is to understate matters. In the second half, I can bet on my life that there was pin-drop silence in the theatre. In what probably represents one of Mani Ratnam's enviable accomplishments, the kid (she may have been around 3 years old at the time of filming) emotes--fear, hurt, uncertainty, curiosity and excitement were all wonderfully conveyed by this dream child in what will go down in the annals of Tamil cinema as one of the most unforgettable casting choices. Most of the credit should go to Mani Ratnam (it must have required infinite patience with takes and retakes) who guides the cast through a memorable journey of basic human emotions.
Illayaraja gave a series of blockbuster albums for Mani Ratnam from "Mouna Raagam" till "Dhalapathi" and "Anjali" was undoubtedly one of those. He kindles the kid in us with his lilting tunes and his haunting background score (the title music alone is worth the ticket price). In the second half he uses the tune of the "Anjali...Anjali" song in a beautiful, unobtrusive to add effect to the visuals. The "Anjali...Anjali..." song is a soothing melody with some memorable lyrics from Vaali ("Aaagaayam Boomiyellaam Iraivan Undaaki Vaithu...Aasai thaan Theeraamale Unnai Thandhaanammaa"). All the other songs are modern -- "Something...Something," "Vaanam Namakku Veedhi," "Magic Journey," "Motta Maadi," "Iravu Nilavu" and "Star Wars" are all ultra-modern even by today's standards. The picturizations are delightful. The carefully choreographed dance movements of the kids add to the technical gloss of the package. The SFX for "Star Wars" contributes to the visceral thrill of the song. Ditto for the "Magic Journey" song--though the concept is borrowed from Spielberg's "E.T," the shots of the Taj Mahal are firmly etched in one's memory. All these songs are playful, tongue-in-cheek and racy, ensuring one helluva time for the kids in the audience.
Madhu Ambatt's camera is...well, Mani Ratnam-ish! Darkness permeates the frames, with the backlit images slowly but surely drawing us into the dream world of Anjali. Thotta Tharani's artwork is top class -- the apartment set is a visual treat, especially the kid's room. A couple of set pieces for the "Vaanam Namakku Veedhi" song are grand.