“Mahanadhi”
Probably the most
depressing movie ever made, "Mahanadhi" is a motion picture that is
nearly impossible to watch and yet, almost paradoxically, is not a film to be
missed by anyone who appreciates sensible, gut wrenching cinema. In bringing forth some of the atrocities
pervading the nation and showing us how the lovable protagonist (played by
Kamal Hassan) is affected by them, this is a movie that will open our eyes and
fill it with tears. Kamal Hassan (who
wrote the story, screenplay and co-wrote the dialogues with Ra.Ki. Rangarajan)
in one of his great, most controlled turns as an actor, creates a character of
astounding conviction. With fine
support from the secondary players, he makes this movie one of the most
powerful, affecting dramas that stays etched in our hearts. I was not surprised by the movie's
commercial failure -- admittedly the movie is 'too' heavy. But I couldn’t care less about the movie's
box office numbers. This is a movie
that has been ensconced in my senses ever since I saw it the first time 8 years
ago.
“Mahanadhi” is the
story of Krishnaswamy, a widower, who leads an idyllic life in a village with
this daughter, son and his mother-in-law (S.N. Lakshmi). Falling to the wiles of a crook (Haneefa),
he moves to the city along with his family to start a chit fund company. All hell breaks loose as he is swindled of
all his money and is left bankrupt. He
is sent to jail on charges of chit fund fraud.
In jail, he befriends an inmate Panchapakesan Iyer (Poornam Vishwanathan). In one of the genuinely pleasing
developments in the story, he falls in love with Iyer’s daughter (Sukanya), who
had earlier replied to his ad in the Matrimonial column. But when he is in jail, his mother-in-law
passes away and he lands up in an unbearable situation where he knows zilch
about his kid’s whereabouts. The rest
of the movie is about his search for them and his actions against the
scoundrels who were responsible for the pitiable state of his family.
“Mahanadhi” is not an
entertaining movie that moves along snappily to a feel good finale. The theme is tackled head-on with staggering
temerity, thus daring us to an unflinching portrayal of reality. It is as though the filmmakers want us to
see the filth and smell the stench of the society. This is true in the case of all the antagonists of the film. Haneefa, his boss and Shankar are the very
personifications of iniquity that we find Kamal’s suffering at their hands
impossible to digest. And, “Mahanadhi”
is too stark and realistic to make Kamal a superhero, demolishing the
villains. Instead it goes to the other
extreme in making him suffer endlessly at the hands of these criminals. By choosing this ‘no light at the end of the
tunnel’ approach, the movie succeeds and fails—it succeeds in getting our
unwavering empathy for the protagonist and make us view his sufferings as our
own (I’ve not had this much empathy for any other movie character. Even Cheeyaan from “Sethu” comes a
not-so-close second). But it also
alienates a sizeable chunk of moviegoers—it is one step from impossibility to
see a man (the ‘hero’ no less) a victim of one atrocity after another. The concluding feel good scene is just a
minor consolation.
The movie’s greatest
success though is its portrayal of Kamal’s relationships with his close
ones—his kids, his mother-in-law, Sukanya and “Poornam” Vishwanathan. His love for his kids is conveyed in a
sweet, gentle manner; with Sukanya it is dreamy yet subtle and sensitive,
achieved in an economy of scenes. But
the best of the lot is his relationship with S.N. Lakshmi. One of my Mom’s friends told me once that
the impression he got from the first few scenes was that S.N. Lakshmi was
playing Kamal’s Mother—this is the ultimate tribute to the screenplay writer
(Kamal) because that is how charming and good-hearted the two characters
are. There is a poignant scene set in
the early hours of the morning where S.N. Lakshmi gives Kamal some nuggets of
wisdom. The way she talks about Kamal’s
remarriage illustrates the simple innocence and guileless nature of these
characters. Rounding off the supporting
cast is “Thalaivasal” Vijay, in a small, brilliantly etched role of a slum
dweller. He makes a lasting impression
in his few minutes on screen.
Now, to the greatest
asset of this movie:
Kamal Hassan immerses himself into the role of
Krishnaswamy with his trademark dedication and understanding. Within the
first 30 minutes, we get to see the vulnerable, gentle side of the character
that we completely identify with him and not just see his troubles but 'feel'
his privation. There is a small, wonderfully enacted scene where his
hungry daughter (who skipped her dinner because he came back late from a
party), who has the habit of talking in her sleep, says "Paati innum konjam
urlakkazhangu podu." The way Kamal reacts to this is so simple yet
so endearing.
The nearly unwatchable sequences in jail are
rightfully underplayed by Kamal-- the honesty and the indignity being conveyed
effortlessly [The scene where he is beaten by Shankar (now known as 'Mahanadhi'
Shankar in a terrific villainous turn) is one of the most realistic violence
scenes in the last decade or so]. The most tenderly heartbreaking scene
of the movie is the one where his daughter visits him in jail after having attained
puberty. Kamal's pause and the subsequent facial expression after saying,
"Ennadhidhu..Pottu..Dhaav..." (having seen his daughter clad in a
dhaavani for the first time) are deeply poignant moments.
The sequence at the prostitution house in Calcutta
is a dark, depressing and harrowing piece and it is Kamal Hassan’s masterful
emoting that makes us stay glued in our seats in spite of the unimaginable
things shown on the screen. Portraying
a father rescuing his daughter from a place like this could’ve been impossible
for a lesser actor but Kamal Hassan brings in his immeasurable talent into play
and takes us right into the wrecked heart of Krishnaswamy. This whole sequence has a stirring point of
termination in the scene where his daughter, in her sleep, shouts out the
atrocities meted out to her in Calcutta. Kamal's cry of anguish here is
one of the most heartfelt emotions ever brought to life on the silver
screen. This scene has a tremendous, hard-hitting effect and finds a
permanent place in the viewer’s memory.
Illayaraja gives us a soothing
melody in “Srirangaranga naathanin paadam,” rendered beautifully by SPB and
Shobana (the kid playing Kamal’s daughter).
His background score is evocative in the emotionally charged scenes, yet
in a style so typical of him, only adds effect instead of being obtrusive. The aforementioned scene with Kamal and his
hungry daughter is a case in point.