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Soul on Fire

It is the dream of every filmmaker to leave to posterity an oeuvre that is faithful to the artiste’s intentions. “The satisfaction I experience when I watch my films for the first time is very important,” says T. V. Chandran. “Between conception and realization, we lose a certain amount of cinema. For me, this loss is the least in Mankamma.”

T.V. Chandran, who hasn’t looked back since he walked away with the Best Director honour in the 1993 National Film Awards, has just completed his latest venture, Mankamma. Widely acclaimed for their honest view of the progress of history, most of Chandran’s films have made their way to the Indian Panorama. His films include Krishnankutty (1981), Aleecinte Anweshanam (1989), Ponthan Mada (1993), and Ormakalundayirikanam (1995). Aleecinte Anweshanam was the country’s official entry for the 1990 Locarno Festival. Ponthan Mada bagged national awards for best actor, music, and cinematography. And Ormakalundayirikanam won the award for best regional film. Chandran clearly is no stranger to the limelight.

Interestingly, though, he has had no formal training in film-making. A former RBI employee, Chandran began his film career as an actor in P. A. Backar’s Kabani Nadi Chuvannappol (When the River Kabani Turned Red), but he insists he doesn’t belong to the tribe of parallel filmmakers who only serve the international film circuit.  “When one is sincere, one’s work strikes roots in one’s own soil,” Chandran philosophizes. “But Malayali culture is trying to work on the reference points of foreigners.”

The 012-minute film revolves around the life of Mankamma (played brilliantly by star-politician Revathy), who is forced by circumstances to leave her village along with her father, Thilakan. They are offered shelter and job by Nedumudi Venu, a Nair who runs a teashop with his adopted son. Venu marries Mankamma after her father’s death, but becomes one of the many faceless, nameless victims of the Emergency – he dies in police custody.

Standing up to these trials, Mankamma survives. “In Tamil, Mankamma means ‘the woman of valour’. So, was there an intention behind the film’s title? “ I came across the meaning of Mankamma quite unexpectedly,” explains Chandran. “The concept of Mankamma lies in the Tamil psyche. Stories were told and films were made on it  -- films like Mankamma Sapatham.”

 There are very few new situations in Mankamma, the film’s director tells you: “In Mankamma, I am telling a story that was already there. You’ll find similar incidents and situations in films and fiction – the return of the old lover, the landlord evicting the poor… I have tried to evolve a new form out of it.

“When Mankamma tells her husband why she left the village, the visual of her hut in flames flashes across the screen. The accompanying music is repeated when her teashop is burnt in the present.

“The emphasis is on the many stages in Mankamma’s life. The story does not end there. In the last shot, Venu’s adopted son sits in the shop. He is reading a book. He remains in the frame even as the woman leaves. That may be another film.”

The film begins and ends with rousing lines from the legendary Tamil poet Subramanya Bharathi, evoking numerous meanings of freedom. “It is about the freedom of the individual,” says Chandran. “Even the most outwardly dependant woman is independent. She is freer than a man.” As in his other films, it is the course of contemporary history that powers Mankamma.

Ponthan Mada, for instance, focused the spotlight on the feudal era. Ormakalundayirikanam portrays the rise of the Communists to power in 1957 and the infamous Vimochana Samaram (Liberation Struggle). It ends on 30 July 1959. Mankamma begins in January 1960 and fades out in the post-Emergency period. “It is an attempt to look for one’s roots,” says Chandran, explaining why history continues to be his primary concern. “I think that Kerala passed through its most conscious phase in the Seventies. To go back again to that period is part of one’s search for self. It just happens; it’s not by any conscious effort.”

The feminine psyche is another Chandran’s abiding concerns. “The general view is that women are more tolerant, “he says. “But behind that there’s spark of protest. All social systems, especially families, suppress women. But they have a survival mechanism that goes beyond all this. It is this survival system that sustains India. It is this inner strength that voted Indira Gandhi out after the Emergency.”

In a film that otherwise would have used folk music extensively, Chandran chose instead a western musical composition. “ I haven’t learned music,” he explains.  “But I am sure about the music in cinema. I form an idea about it when I write the script. The music should not form part of the film. It has to come from outside like in the old German dramas. When Mankamma tides over a crisis, the visual recedes and the music ascends. This was my idea. New Cinema glorifies understatement. Even the music is slow.”

Chandran rejects the general notion that films must be viewed with complete absorption. It should be the other way around, he believes. “Normally, people tend to get immersed in the film. Rather, one should be made to think.” He narrates how he escaped the bane of every filmmaker: creating visually beautiful shots. “Close-ups were deliberately avoided. There are only middle-range shots. I wanted always to have a background. When we use close-up, the background becomes irrelevant and the shots ends up visually beautiful. I ensured the depth of the field. There was always something in the background. It is difficult to bring in things, which are not in the frame. It is not easy to imply those things through sound. Cameramen Sunny Joseph’s contribution was remarkable.

“In a way, a frame is an accident. It is not the ultimate, not an end in itself. So many things are happening outside the frame. Whichever way we may do it, there is life outside the frame. That is the primary truth.” And it is this life that Chandran frames for viewers he can relate to, not the international festival circuit.

The Indian Express

Express Magazine

19 April 1998