The poster of ‘Manorathangal’
MT. Two letters that have almost become synonymous with Malayalam literature, conjuring up images, emotions and characters that are at the same time universal as well as representative of Kerala of a particular time period. So when some of Malayalam cinema’s best filmmakers, actors and technicians come together in Manorathangal, an anthology to celebrate 91-year old M.T. Vasudevan Nair’s works, the expectations are bound to be high.
While journeying from one episode to the next in the anthology, each of them introduced by Kamal Haasan, one cannot help but wonder about all the films made in the 1970s and ‘80s based on MT’s scripts, most of which have aged well. The natural ease with which the performers (some of whom are part of this anthology too) delivered the lines, the organic evolution of the narrative, and the sheer ease with which filmmakers of that era with relatively limited resources effortlessly pulled us into a vortex of complex emotions, are in sharp contrast with atleast some of the works of this anthology.
Mammootty in a still from ‘Manorathangal’
Showrunner Priyadarshan, whose films bookend the anthology, ends up with a hit and a miss. Shilalikithangal paints the unappealing picture of a man (Biju Menon) who is devoid of the last ounce of humanity, someone who is capable of turning away remorselessly from a dying person’s cries for help. Armed with a story which reveals the man’s true nature with every passing line he utters, contrasting it with his daughter’s natural humaneness, Priyadarshan displays great control in giving the required light touches.
Manorathangal
Directors: Priyadarshan, Shyamaprasad, Mahesh Narayanan, Ranjith, Jayaraj, Santosh Sivan, Aswathy V.Nair, Ratheesh Ambat
Cast: Mohanlal, Mammootty, Fahadh Faasil, Parvathy Thiruvoth, Nadiya Moidu, Biju Menon, Madhoo, Asif Ali, Nedumudi Venu, Indrans, Indrajith Sukumaran, Aparna Balamurali
Storyline: An anthology of nine stories written by M. T. Vasudevan Nair, exploring different themes and emotions
But, the same cannot be said of his attempt at remaking Olavum Theeravum. While the original one directed by P. N. Menon (1970) was a clear departure from the kind of films that were being made then, and became one of the earliest attempts at realistic cinema in Malayalam, the latest attempt appears a bit anachronistic. It leaves one wondering about the need for a remake when a new way of saying it is not even thought about. The age-mismatched casting makes it even worse.
Kadugannava, Oru Yathra Kurippu, a story with some autobiographical touches, has Ranjith in the kind of form that he was in during the Kaiyyoppu days, with a pared-down narrative which flits between journalist Venugopal (Mammootty)‘s present-day visit to Sri Lanka and his childhood memories of his father’s stormy visit home with a Sri Lankan girl. One wished this episode were a little longer.
Fahadh Faasil in a still from ‘Manorathangal’
Mahesh Narayanan’s Sherlock, with its intriguing treatment of an equally intriguing story, turns out to be the best film of the anthology by a mile. Even for someone familiar with the story, the strange exchanges between a down-and-out Balu (Fahadh Faasil) trying to reorient his life in an alien land and a seemingly mind-reading pet cat can be quite amusing, by the way it is pulled off on-screen. The story of alienation and loneliness of Balu and his sister (Nadia Moidu) away from their homeland resonates well with contemporary times too.
Shyamaprasad’s Kazhcha also speaks to the present through its character of Sudha (Parvathy Thiruvothu), yearning for a room of her own, to pursue her interests, away from her philistine husband (Narain) and the judgmental eyes of society. Aswathy V. Nair, MT’s daughter, is unable to fully utilise the interesting premise of Vilpana, in which a middle-aged woman (Madhoo) finds an inventive way to overcome her angst and loneliness. Rathish Ambat’s Kadalkattu about the inner turmoils of a man (Indrajith) leading a double life and his wife Bharathi (Aparna Balamurali)’s struggles in his absence also turns out to be underwhelming.
Parvathy Thiruvothu in a still from ‘Manorathangal’
The most pointless film of the lot would be Santosh Sivan’s Abhayam Thedi Veendum, which fails in making even a coherent narrative out of the story, while Jayaraj’s reimagining of Aalkoottathil Thaniye is saved to an extent by moving performances by Indrans and Nedumudi Venu.
A streak of irreverence and a dash of daring can be useful tools in the armour when one is faced with the daunting task of recreating on-screen the words of a towering literary giant like M.T. Vasudevan Nair. The writer who created some of the most complex characters in Malayalam literature would probably have relished such an approach.
But it appears that at least a few of the makers behind Manorathangal were too intimidated to even slightly reimagine the base stories of the celebrated writer in a new setting, or to tease out the story’s essence into creating something new and contemporary. In some films, the dialogues sound stilted, not due to the way they are written, but due to how they are delivered.
Manorathangal ends up as an uneven anthology, with a few hidden gems and some major disappointments. The stories still stand the test of time decades after they were written, but only some of these films would do so, a few years from now.
Manorathangal is currently streaming on ZEE5
