Pushpak — Silence is Golden!

The premise is pretty simple — Kamal is an unemployed young man who dreams big. He one day bumps into a beautiful girl (Amala) accidentally giving her the impression that he is rich. That night, he stumbles upon a drunkard (Sameer Kakkad), lying in stupor next to a luxury hotel, and is carrying a key to one of the suites (was it 1247?) in the hotel. Kamal carries the drunk to his poor bachelor’s pad, ties him up and locks him in. Then, he moves to the hotel, pretending to be the rich guy and starts wooing Amala — hoodwinking her parents — who are staying in the same hotel.

Love blossoms and the young couple enjoys every moment of their togetherness, yearning for more. Eventually, Kamal realizes the bitter reality behind his distasteful charade and moves back into his previous life, and returns Sameer back to the roadside gutter where he was first found. Kamal also writes a confession letter to Amala.

At the end, Amala sees Kamal again and writes him a note — from the car she is riding in — wraps the note around a flower (symbolism) and throws it to Kamal. Kamal picks up the flower first, and the note gets blown away by the wind.

This closure is indeed a homage — a subliminal salute — to Chaplin, the master of the tragic comedies during the silent era.

A screwball sub-plot involves an extramarital affair between the Sameer’s wife and his friend. The friend (Prathap Pothan) brings in a hired killer (Tinnu Anand) to kill Sameer who is supposedly occupant of the suite 1247. The killer makes multiple attempts at Kamal with his “ice daggers” (water is frozen in a dagger shaped tin container a la kulfi to produce sharp ice weapons — outrageously hilarious!), and Sameer gets to escape his death — thanks to Kamal who has locked him up at his bachelor’s pad — and later — thanks to Kamal’s discovery of facts - Sameer wins his wife again.

Highlights: The black humor in the scene where Kamal and Amala walk through the funeral queues, handholding, pretending to pay respects to a dead person — the amazing BGMs during the scene where Kamal follows Tinnu Anand back to Pratap Pothan’s house — the stark human sense of belongingness in the scene where Kamal goes back to his flat for the aural ambience of the loud movie theater next door — the enema aftermath — the voluptuous maid and the dirty old man — the crow and the stones story in the background of Kamal’s morning tea — the innovative way of washing the shirt using minimum soap… it is a simple story with well-etched characterization and emotive innovation beautifully embroidered and festooned with a sensible background score.

Singeetham with his own story, screenplay, and direction — Kamal, with his impeccable Chaplinesque acting — L Vaidyanathan, the real voice of the movie — where does one end and the other begin? This is one movie that is one standing example for the word: TEAMWORK.

This experiment hit the screens unannounced and enthralled the audience with its sheer intelligence. This movie will always stand out to be one of its kinds in its genre, in its class and maturity.

Apoorva Sagodharargal

Comedy of errors — the usual twins theme — with a revenge twist.

One of the two brothers is a midget, Appu, working as a clown in a circus, who decides to give it back to the four baddies who killed his dad (Kamal’s excellent portrayal of Sethupathy) and poisoned his mom (late Srividya). Appu with his ingenious planning and his circus accoutrement devises devious ways to dispose off the villiains. Suspected by the law however is Raja, the other brother, an innocent mechanic. Janakaraj (the cop) and Shivaji (as his sychopant assistant) are the people assigned to investigate these killings. A few cinematic licenses — Raja falling in love with one of the bad guys’ daughter, and Raja being in the wrong places at the the wrong times — are sought by the writer-director combination.

Kamal’s portrayal as Appu — his mastery in facial expressions while showing his ecstatic joy and the subsequent emotional play in the marriage registration scene — the sheer physical pain of playing a pint-sized person without using any graphics (which were almost unheard of in the Tamil movie land at that time). Tamil viewers were astonished by Kamal’s metamorphosis into a midget. Kamal and Singeetham, till date, have insisted on keeping the methods employed a close secret.

Ilaiyaraaja’s sensational music — every number a chart buster — eclectic Raaja Kaiya Vecha, haunting Unnai Nenachen, and the most extraordinary composition Puthu Mappillaikku, which intentionally runs along the lines of “Naan Paarthathiley, Aval Oruthiyaithaaan” — one of the evergreen songs from the MGR hit, Anbey Vaa.

Crazy Mohan — the name says it all. The most funniest writer of one-liners that Tamil cinema has ever seen. His dialogues for this film ensured repeat audience. Lines between the lines, double entendres (in the positive sense), in your face punch-lines — he packed them all in one script for this movie - every line is a cracker and every other line is a repartee. The Tamil audience, desperately searching for the long-forgotten “clean” comedy, were in love with his words heads over heels! And Kamal and Singeetham found their compatriot in their journey to comic cosmos.

For Mohan, this was just the beginning of a really long relationship with these creators — Michael Madana Kama Rajan, Magalir Mattum, Chinna Vathiyar, Madam, Kadhala Kadhala, Indran Chandran, Sathi Leelavathi, Avvai Shanmughi, Thenali, Pammal K Sambandam, Panchathantiram, Vasool Raja MBBS, Dasavatharam — he wrote them all.

Michael Madhana Kama Rajan

Bheem bhai Bheem bhai, antha locker lendhu aaru latchathai eduthu indha Avinashi naai moonjiyil vitteri — Just wait a nimit for five nimits — I mean what I mean, but they can’t be so mean — these lines are unforgettable — ask any Tamil movie fan!

The movie starts off with a bioscope man, inviting kids to listen to a story — that’s Singeetham singing in Ilaiyaraaja’s voice and even dancing — and the whole story is seen through the eyes of a kid who pays him to take a peek through the bioscope.

Michael (a counterfeiter), Madan (a rich heir), Kameshwaran (a Palakkad brahmin cook), and Raju (fireman and drama enthusiast) are four brothers, quadruplets at that, separated at birth. Madan recruits Raju to impersonate him; Michael decides to kidnap Madan and step into his shoes for the money; Kameshwaran gets hired to replace Madan during Madan’s absence by a crooked accountant at his office for, again, the money.

With four characters pretending to be the same character (played by the same actor) and a script that gets as screwball as they come (Crazy Mohan at his best), this must’ve been a logistical nightmare to the director and the team. Singeetham again managed to to deliver the impossible and the movie, though a moderate success, is still a cult favorite.

Consider this for a moment to be able to appreciate the smarts of this movie. Every frame in the movie involves at least four characters, sometimes more than one Kamal Haasan, positioned strategically. In this case, where the climax of the movie has all the characters present in the frame — patched inserts of close ups, head shots, and medium shots — for most of the times, the way the master shot is matched up with these individual inserts, without the usual jarring that always gives away the reality (fakeness) of the scenes, showcases the careful detail that the director has paid attention to, when handling the camera and scissors.

Links to the original posts by WB on PassionForCinema: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

[May be continued…]

Part I