Among the leading lights of Kovai Tamil theatre, B Anantha Subramanian holds an exalted place. An actor and director, Mani, as he is known, was trained by two of the illustrious peers of the stage — Kovai Anuradha and Kaniyuran.
The septuagenarian beams that for the last five decades, he has been encouraging artistes in stage, music, and Namasankeerthanam, which has reached global heights, of late.
Showcasing a plethora of awards in his well-stacked cupboard, Mani says his first salvo was in the play of Kaniyuran. “Soon, I gained his confidence and was a permanent member of his well-orchestrated troupe. I was the stop-gap man for any artiste who failed to turn up in time due to the congested peak evening traffic, mainly in Chennai. Media appreciation meant the world to me as another prominent artiste, KRS Krishnan, took me under his fold. A total of 2,300 stage shows are stamped in memory. My day is made when my contemporaries heap eloquent praise on various platforms. These days have restricted my acting, and the focus is duly on spotting and grooming the young talents,” he shares.
Following this, Mani formed the Chamber of Arts troupe in the early 70s. The play Foreign Return Parasuraman shot him to instant fame. Penned by the famed writer Vimala Ramani, the high point of the play was in the scene-stealing act of Kovai Sarala. Recalling how he roped her in, Mani says he had been fascinated by the style with which Sarala dished out the Kovai slang. “The play was a huge hit with a repeat audience clamouring for a sequel. In an era where travelling to other cities was not the norm, the play visited cities in Tamil Nadu and Karnataka.”
One success led to another, and the play, Asadugal Ayiuram, penned by him had an instant admirer in Sarala. “The moment she heard the script, she said the content is right down her alley. Even as she got busy with movies, she put her life and soul into the play, and unmistakably it touched the chord of an audience, starved of quality fare and content. That Sarala had the lion’s share of the two-hour play was a conscious decision to draw the crowd, and the idea worked wonders,” he says.
For Mani, the keepsake moment of his long career was the impact his short film Moola Natchatram had on the discerning audience. A girl born under the Moolam star had been considered a bad omen for the near and dear ones of the family, including the prospective groom. Determined to set aside that misconception, Mani walked the extra mile to get the facts right. “I harped on the fixed mindset of the audience that all imagination is only in the mind and showed a few illustrious facts to substantiate my reasoning,” he adds.
The audience accepted his reasoning, told with facts. “Rama was born on Navami, Krishna on Ashtami (both considered inauspicious days), and Anjaneya's birth star is Moolam. If Gods have no control over such things, how can human beings help their time of birth or the star they are born under,” he explains.
His powerful lines went a long way to give substance to the message through his character Chandran, who questions his mother after she rejects Abirami as a daughter-in-law because of the so-called inauspicious tag to her star. It was a huge victory for the team, abolishing the myth that girls born under the star are doomed to a life of joylessness because the moola nakshataram could bring death to the father-in-law and untold misery to the mother-in-law. Well, to a large extent, the belief was bust and emboldened by the audience reaction, a point hitherto not noticed was brought to light that penmoolam signifies nirmalayam, which is purity.
Such was the popularity of the short film that All India Radio deemed it fit to make Moola Natchatram as a 30-minute play in 1983 during the celebrations that marked the founder of KRS drama troupe, Krishnan's 50 years on stage.
It bagged as many as 11 awards at the drama competition hosted by Puduchery Cultural Troupe. “Getting my award for astute screenplay and direction from Puduchery chief minister Rangasamy gave the award an added sheen. The CM spent time with the cast and crew after the show to get an insight into the efforts behind the success,” he says.
Mani’s mentor, Kaniyuran, shares that he saw the innate talent of the youngster when he joined his troupe, Stage Arts, as a 12-year-old. “I was left in awe at his maturity with which he handled a seemingly difficult character in his first play, Vazhkai Azaikurathu. He was a permanent member of my troupe, and for the record, he acted in 25 consecutive plays I helmed. Mani’s silver jubilee play Suyarupam showed the facets of the mind of a selfish person, missing out on the joy of sharing with others what an individual has. Actor Sivakumar, presiding over the play, was magnanimous in his lavish praise of Mani, deeming his character the USP of the play,” says Kaniyuran.
From theatre to short films to movies, Mani has seen the audience leave one form of entertainment for another. But the media’s support helped him send across hard-hitting messages through his play to the doorstep of the reluctant ones who had abandoned theatre for movies. “The stage became poorer when brand names like SV Sahasranamam, VS Raghavan, Sivakumar, and a few others of their ilk found their moorings in movies. True, one cannot make a living on stage, but the likes of me who had a job could balance,” he notes.
Decades later, he can fathom why youngsters are not making a beeline for the theatre. “At best, the stage could only be a pastime with a secured job to bank on. Unlike the 70s when the stage paved the way for movies, there is little guarantee in the present scheme of things. My friends and I are prepared to groom passionate youngsters. The lack of patronage has resulted in only a few sabhas in circulation in Kovai. But then, this is the city that gave Sarala and Anuradha to the world of movies,” he says.