The evolution is still on — but Mammootty has almost reached there. His conscious run-up to narrow the gap between superstardom and consummate action to the point of blurring them appears to have touched the finishing ribbon if his performance in his latest movie is any indication. The middle-aged Mollywood icon’s portrayal of the eponymous hero in Pazhassi Raja is convincing both ways: his ability to essay epic characters regally and his own kingly strides in Malayalam cinema where he started off almost three decades ago.
“I am not a born actor,” Mammootty has himself admitted. But then, “I got better after each film.” Virtually certifying this comes a discerning comment from Pazhassi Raja director T Hariharan. “When I saw Mammootty through the lens during the first day of shoot,” he recalls about the initial phase of this multicrore and multilingual biopic, “I was amazed to see the same actor I saw 20 years ago in Oru Vadakkan Veeragatha. The same energy, the same blinding persona — but with more wisdom in his performance.”
To maintain a physical appearance over two decades is a daunting task, but the concluding part of the filmmaker’s observation is perhaps even more striking. After all, Hariharan and Mammootty had themselves worked together in OVV in collaboration with celebrated scriptwriter M T Vasudevan Nair to give the 1989 mega-hit a troika touch. Both focus on a fallen war hero — the earlier one stemmed from an intelligently tweaked folklore, the newest is an honest attempt to upload history on to celluloid. Both tales flourish in the valiance of two men from the same belt: North Malabar. And the period-film aspect tends to weave in a fabric of similarity in the looks and, at times, even the costumes of the two protagonists.
There are chances the actor might earn a tag of duplication, but Mammootty has proved he is capable of dodging such traps. True, the script did a part of the bulwarks. Chandu in OVV was more verbose. What’s more, the actor then had a forced articulacy — his dialogue delivery was at times affected, his body language somewhat taut. But in Pazhassi Raja, Mammootty is radiantly silent and restrained in his performance. In fact, the supporting characters have more to say than the king himself.
The very opening scene of the king throws light on this artistic faculty. In the dim glow of a lamp, enters a figure clad in kasavu mundu, his head held high, eyes unwavering. Confidence written large in his gait, the man turns to the screen and gives it a long hard stare. Agreed there’s no authentic picture of his available, but you impulsively feel this is Kerala Varma Pazhassi Raja who ruled the Wayanad’s Kottayam province in the late 1700s.
Further afield, there’s the instance of the king, fighting the East India Company, almost captured by British soldiers. But he is composed and gently asks the queen to get him drinking water. Just when he enters the palanquin, she calls him back and the king gives an imperceptible nod, lifts the mug that has an urumi coiled in. Next instance, he lashes the belt-like weapon and single-handedly defeats his enemies. There is no trace of the superstar here — as also in a similar instance: one with his favourite lieutenant Edachena Kunkan (Sharath Kumar), though it’s a warm-up friendly duel here.
“You can only adopt a character, you can’t impersonate him,” Mammootty once famously said. Given that his forte is stylish method acting, a physical transformation into any king might have been a cakewalk for this actor. Still, one can’t miss the magnetism in the movements of Pazhassi Raja. Even with the measured intensity, he succeeds in bringing in a natural grace. Be it the opulence when he rides on his white horse or his poignant love for queen Mankam, one acquires an emotional bond with the king.
The vocal chords continue to play their magic — in any case there aren’t many who have excelled in airing MT’s dialogues more adroitly than Mammootty. When he bids adieu to his queen, the raja says, “In life, man has only one constant companion that follows him like a shadow — and that’s death. I do not fear it.”
The tone of the scripted sentences is vintage MT, but audibly it doesn’t at all remind you of OVV. All this from an actor who has done a string of high-decibel, macho plain speak on screen in films even till the mid-1990s.
Like, in The King (1995), where the hero gives non-stop lecture to his lady subordinate about work ethics. But that was only one end of the spectrum even those days. Parallely, he performed as the naïve low-caste Mada who communicates with his imperious Sheema Thampuran, hanging from a palm tree (Ponthan Mada).
Awards tallied behind him for variety roles, yet the label of being “stiff and rigid” clung on to Mammootty. Fans of his contemporary star Mohanlal seldom wasted a chance to criticise his “poor comedy” and “lack of spontaneity”.
In between, he tried shrugging off machismo roles. The actor’s progression had started in the mid-1990s (Vidheyan, Bhoothakannadi, Suryamanasam), only that it began bearing fruit much later. More precisely with Danny. A rewind to a scene in this 2002 film where he sings at a funeral proves his mastery in handling comedy.
Indeed, the last few years have seen him try comic capers — Ee Pattanathil Bhootham, Annan Thambi, Mayavi and Thuruppugulan: the bid to loosen himself up is apparent. All the same you saw a new, subtler Mammootty in the action-packed commercial flick, Big B. That was in 2007, the very year he also did Ore Kadal, a parallel movie. A year ago, he played Murugan, a Tamil ironing man, in Karutha Pakshikal — some say, it’s by far his best.
Today, Pazhassi Raja (running to packed houses in Kerala and Tamil Nadu) is a contender to that claim. Hariharan could get a sneak preview of it through the camera lens, but the spectator at the theatre is no less convinced.
— neelkmenon@gmail.com