KOCHI: Fisherwoman Bhargavi in Amaram, bold Kochammini in Godfather, the master storyteller Bhasura in Manichitrathazhu and the faceless, sweet and romantic Narayani in Mathilukal... K P A C Lalitha has a rich oeuvre with over 550 feature films that portray vivid shades of human life.
Choosing from this variety was hence no small task for Belbin P Baby, a journalism faculty at Sacred Heart College, Thevara, when he decided to delve deep into the actor’s filmography in his new book Lalitham KPAC Lalithayude Kathapathrangaliloode.
He has put down this difficulty right in the introduction of the book itself. But the challenge did not stop him from his resolve to explore her extensive list of roles and allow many generations to know of the versatile actor’s craft and skill in depicting diverse characters. The book is thus an effort to keep the legacy of the veteran alive so that posterity derives inspiration from it, says the author of this work that is published by DC Books.
Several people who knew the actor up close have spoken in the 14 chapters of the book. She comes alive in their memories and anecdotes, beginning with a discussion that lays bare the persona she bore— on and off screen — as she donned roles that are never to be forgotten.
The preface carries a narration by her son Siddharth Bharathan. “She asks about the character from the director and then tries to connect it to someone she has met in her life. I was often the most surprised to see how Amma connected these characters to her personal experiences, as many of the characters she portrayed were familiar to me. I will give only one example. In the movie Kochu Kochu Santhoshangal, the character Jagadamma, played by her, was an imitation of Santhamma, who was our household helper. I was amazed to see how Amma replicated even the smallest movements of hers,” says Siddharth.
The other contributors to the book back Siddharth’s observation on his mother’s exceptional ability to seamlessly transform into her characters without any preparation. Adoor Gopalakrishnan, for instance, writes about the character Narayani in the movie Mathilukal. Though the character’s face is never shown, Lalitha’s voice brings Narayani to sparkling life. He recounts how he auditioned 26 other actresses but was not satisfied until he chose Lalitha. Her performance is still beloved, with people using her voice to convey love and affection through social media reels and other platforms.
So, it was not just Lalitha but her voice too had the potential to bring characters to light. S Suresh Babu further grounds this with the example of the character Aleyamma in Kottayam Kunjachan who Lalitha played to perfection.
“Her performance highlighted the potency of the female voice, effectively overshadowing even the most dominant male character played by Mammootty. Aleyamma carried the heart of the film from the very beginning. Her command of the Kottayam dialect brought an additional level of authenticity to her character.”
There are many more who have joined Adoor Gopalakrishnan and Siddharth in unravelling Lalitha and her different facets on screen in the book. Like Sathyan Anthikad, Siddique, Sibi Malayil, Fazil,
T K Rajeev Kumar, Bhadran, Rajasenan, Raghunath Paleri, I M Vijayan, B Unnikrishnan, Ranjan Pramod, and Babu Thiruvalla.
Together, they recount the experiences and readers get to know the essence of Lalitha’s portrayal of each of her characters, as her dialogues boom in the background.
Take, for instance, the haunting tale of Nagavalli in Manichithrathazhu. Director Fazil says the story was told with no flashback scenes or other visual illustrations. The storyteller is, in fact, the narrative of Lalitha’s character, who may seem unimportant in the film but is one of the crowd-pullers.
“The beauty lies in how exquisitely the story is narrated — every listener, much like Ganga in the story, eagerly engages, visualising the scenes in their minds. It’s pure magic — the kind that comes from the unparalleled performance of the actress Lalitha. No one could have conveyed that story with such grace and eloquence.”
The book is laden with such personal narratives on Lalitha and her remarkable histrionics that is as natural as it is subtle. With authenticity as her hallmark, Lalitha seamlessly connects with audiences across different shades of her characters, and this trait is what made her son Siddharth her greatest fan. And it is entirely understandable, as her stature reigns supreme as one of the actors who was Malayalam cinema’s milestone.
The book, even as it is a refreshing trip down memory lane, is also poignant reminder of what is lacking in the cinema today, even while not being judgemental.
It also reminds us how cinema has long celebrated male actors over the talents of women, and that Malayalam cinema is no exception. Icons like Mohanlal and Mammootty have held the ‘superstar’ label for decades, with no actress receiving similar recognition. This is the reason for debates about why strong, compelling roles are less frequently written for women.
This, however, brings the role of powerhouses such as Lalitha, Sukumari Amma, and Kalpana to the forefront. They have not just been the soul of movies that had these male titans, but played their part to such perfection as to shape the course of these movies. Their performances, reflecting a deep-seated dedication to their craft, were thus a silent revolution that carved out a distinct female space in Malayalam movies.
These spaces are now slowly getting vacant, they may not be irreplaceable, but are sure waiting to be filled up, implies the book.