Sreekumaran Thampi has donned many roles in the Malayalam film industry with great flourish. An engineer-turned-filmmaker, Thampi has always been a loner in the industry. But he did carve a space for himself without the help of any godfather. Thampi talks to Express about his troubled childhood, his tussles, especially with Devarajan Master, his special relationship with singer Yesudas and why he feels Mammootty and Mohanlal are responsible for making Malayalam film superstar-oriented.
Excerpts:
You have been a lyricist, director, producer, music director… Which was the role you were best at?
I’m like a bird who doesn’t want to be confined to just one nest alone. I keep on flying wherever I wish.
Which is the most beautiful nest that you have?
That’s for people to decide. Whatever I do, I give my cent per cent. I have directed super-hit action movies like Nayattu, while also making movies like Gaanam, a slow-paced movie. Basically, I’m a poet and a lyricist. Only those with a poetic mind can be good filmmakers.
How was your growing up days?
My father was a drunkard and used to have episodes of delirium. My mother was everything to me. I used to be part of the theatre and take part in many competitions, winning numerous prizes. I particularly remember one occasion. I had won many prizes in a competition, and everyone was praising me. While coming down from the stage holding the prizes, I heard a person standing close to the stage say – “What’s the point in winning so many prizes? His father is insane.” This is an incident that is forever etched in my memory... By the way, the person who made this remark later went on to become a famous music composer!
Such envy?
There will always be people envious of your success. It is natural. I have one enemy in my entire life – that’s jealousy.
You had a special relationship with your mother…
Yes. Without my mother, there is no Sreekumaran Thampi. My mother had 10 children, of whom only five survived. It was my mother who inculcated in me a sense of self-discipline. This is my 57th year in cinema. I still do not drink or smoke. I can still remember my mother’s incessant tears due to my father’s alcoholism. It was my childhood experiences that made me a philosopher. My life has been one long procession of sorrows. And that is what moulded me into the person I am today.
You were an engineer before you joined the film industry. Was it easy to quit such a prestigious profession (at that point) and join the film industry?
I resigned from my job in the town planning department at the age of 26 and shifted to Madras. It was a tough phase, with little support from my family. They criticised me for throwing away my government job that in turn became a deterrent for ‘good’ marriage proposals.
How were your early days in the film industry?
P Subramaniam was the one who introduced me to films. He liked my lyrics, terming them different from that of Vayalar (Rama Varma) and P Bhaskaran. Though I wanted to be a scriptwriter, he gave me the opportunity to write songs. That is how I became a lyricist.
You’ve had a love-hate relationship with Devarajan Master…
He reluctantly accepted me as a lyricist after producer T S Muthaiah insisted. I added oil to the fire by foolishly asking for the composition of the songs. He also feared that if there were more films like Chitramela in the future, Kuttan’s (Vayalar) career would be at stake. He made it clear that he would not work with me. But I am indebted to him for his music. We worked again together for Velutha Kathreena as producer P Balthasar insisted. Master was reluctant to associate with me but relented after I made a call to him. I asked him why he wanted to nip me in the bud. He called me headstrong. I retorted saying I thought the same about him. He then agreed to associate with me in Velutha Kathreena on the condition that it would be our last film together. Master was worried about Vayalar being out of work if he continues to tune my lyrics. “Writing lyrics is Kuttan’s vocation. You are an engineer. You can find other work,” he told me.
Have heard that you challenged him that you would make his harmonist a music director…
I did. But frankly, I had no idea that M K Arjunan was his harmonist! I started working with Arjunan for the film Guest House in 1969. All our songs were hits. By 1973, both Devarajan and Arjunan had an equal number of movies. It was a blow to the Vayalar-Devarajan team. After a fallout with film producer Kunchacko, Devarajan Master approached me to work together again for the film Kalachakram in 1973. One of the songs – Kaalamorajnatha Kaamukan — speaks about the turn of destiny. Devarajan was quick to grasp the allusion. We continued our association for around 36 films.
But you again had a fallout with him…
Yes. That was following an interview by Nedumudi Venu, who was a journalist then. He wanted to know why I allowed Master to let Madhuri sing all the songs. I told him that it was the music director’s prerogative, adding that I liked the voice of P Susheela and Vani Jairam more than that of Madhuri. Master got furious and we again had a fallout. Later when Master came to attend my daughter’s marriage reception in Madras, he did admit that we could easily have done over 1,000 songs, had we continued our association. A loss for Malayalam cinema indeed!
You seemed to have had a fallout with almost all big names like Devarajan, Prem Nazir and M K Arjunan. What do you attribute this to? Your ego?
Ego is not bad if it does not harm anyone. My ego is my self-esteem, not arrogance.
Your film Mohiniyattam is one of the first female-oriented films in the industry...
I am the first-ever director in the country to make a film on woman’s emancipation - Mohiniyattam in 1976. But it was banned by the Censor Board as it told the story of the survival of three rape victims. That was during the Emergency. I had to walk from pillar to post to get that film cleared. Thanks to the efforts of Congress leaders K Karunakaran and A K Antony, it finally got cleared. The film bagged several awards.
Who do you believe is more important in cinema, the creator or the performer?
Of course, the creator. Is Shakespeare or the one who plays Othello more important? The performer does garner all the applause, while the creator is admired mostly after he or she dies. Prem Nazir was the only person in Malayalam cinema who understood the creator’s greatness. He once told me that people would forget an actor if he did not do films for a while, but the writer’s place in public memory would always stay intact.
You have always been critical of films revolving around superstars…
I stopped making films when theatres pestered me for only Mammootty or Mohanlal films. Earlier they wanted Sreekumaran Thampi’s films. K S Sethumadhavan, Vincent, me… we all had to stop doing films. Mammootty and Mohanlal are to be blamed for establishing “superstar supremacy” in Malayalam cinema. Prem Nazir never did it, and neither did Jayan, Soman, or Sukumaran. Till then it was we directors who created superstars. But these two did the reverse — they created directors.
But you gave Mammootty his first lead role in Munnettam…
Mammootty was nervous. I still remember Mammootty’s concern over his failure to lip-sync while shooting songs. The next film we did together was Vilichu Vilikettu. During the discussion, Mammootty suggested replacing Dhananjayan with some ‘hit’ cameraman. I refused. I asked him how it would feel if I replaced him instead. Mammootty never gave me dates after that.
What about Mohanlal?
Mohanlal who used to do villain roles got his first leading role in my film Enikkum Oru Divasam in 1982. The film was an utter flop because people did not accept him. The next film was Aadhipathyam with three heroes - Prem Nazir, Madhu, and Mohanlal. My distributors advised me to replace Mohanlal with Mammootty. I refused. Our third film Yuvajanolsavam was a hit. That marked his rise as a superstar. But he stopped giving me his call sheet after that. He had then promised me that he would act in my film once in six months. Believing him, I launched a film distribution company. But he ditched me. I had to sell my house for just Rs 11 lakh to set up the company. Today it is worth `17 crore.
You have directed both Mammootty and Mohanlal. Who do you think is the better actor?
The biggest reason for Mammootty’s animosity towards me is that I have said Mohanlal is a good actor. I was on the jury of the national film awards. I was part of the jury when Mammootty and Mohanlal emerged in the final round for Oru Vadakkan Veeragatha and Kireedam respectively. K G George and I were on different committees. Of the four committees, three including mine adjudged Mohanlal as the best actor. Only the committee headed by George backed Mammootty. He seemed to have given his word to Mammootty. I was of the view that the majority decision should prevail. But George had good links with filmmakers from the country’s north and east.
A party was held, and six members changed their minds. The next day, when voting was held, Mammootty got 11 votes and Mohanlal five. Basu Bhattacharya and I strongly argued for Mohanlal. I demanded that a special jury award be given to Mohanlal. I have no animosity towards Mammootty or any special affection towards Mohanlal. When I was a jury member for the third time, Bharatham was being considered and Adoor Gopalakrishnan was the jury chairman. He belonged to the Mammootty group (laughs out loudly). I supported Mohanlal. Soumitra Chatterjee was a close competitor. I turned it around this time. Mohanlal was adjudged best actor and Soumitra received a special jury mention. This increased Mammootty’s hostility towards me. But Mohanlal is the reason why I lost my house. Had I been revengeful, I would not have given him the award. That shows my character.
When you made Bandhukkal Sathrukkal in 1993, you had a wide star cast, including actors like Jayaram and Mukesh...
When I did that movie, Mukesh was a nobody. I first narrated the story to Mukesh and asked him which role he wanted. He wanted to be cast as Thilakan’s son. Jayaram had a more humorous role. When the shoot started, most of the songs went to Jayaram which upset Mukesh. He said I had cheated him. He said everyone was cheating him, especially upper-caste people. That movie made me realise that my period has ended. Again, I made a movie Ammaykkoru Tharattu on the theme of old age. I lost over Rs 1.75 crore. That’s when I decided not to do any more movies.
Have you ever thought of working with new-gen actors?
I’m sure they will not give me their call sheets, as we are now part of an old-age home in cinema! Why should I humiliate myself?
Who all have impressed you among the current crop of actors?
Tovino Thomas is good. Though Aami was not commercially successful, his portrayal of Sree Krishna was notable. For me, a great actor should be able to do any role, be it action, comedy or drama.
You enjoy a close relationship with Yesudas. You are the only person who calls him ‘Yesu’…
Dakshinamoorthy too called him so. I call him “Ente Yesu” and he addresses me as “Ente Thampi”. But though we are such close friends, I have never asked him to accept a remuneration lower than what he gets from other producers. Perhaps that’s why he likes me.
What do you think of the allegation that Yesudas did not allow other singers to grow?
Totally false. If there is any singer who can be considered on a par with Yesudas, it is only Mohammed Rafi. Not even Balasubrahmanyam. SPB may have sung the songs in Sankarabharanam but would not have been able to do justice to the songs in Gaanam. (hums the songs of ‘Gaanam’ and Sankarabharanam)... “Sankara...” is not classical at all: it’s just a film song. But songs in Gaanam are classical. That is the reason why Gaanam did not become a hit like Sankarabharanam. Only if you correctly raise and drop your voice from ‘keezh shadjam’ to ‘mel shadjam’ can you become Yesudas. Even Jayachandran (singer P Jayachandran) cannot do it. (Sings ‘Kaattadichu, kodumkaattadichu, kayalile vilakkumaram kannadachu. Swapnavum narakavum kaalamam kadalin akkareyo ikkareyo...) Nobody will be able to sing Akkareyo in the correct ‘sruthi’. Only Yesudas can…
Many cite the examples of Brahmanandan to prove the point…
Brahmanandan cannot sing like Yesu. He was a singer with a lot of limitations. I have penned songs for him to help him from penury. I had asked Dakshinamoorthy and Arjunan maash’ (M K Arjunan) to compose songs for him. (Sings sa, re, ga, ma, pa, dha.) Brahmanandan can go only up to dha. If he sings ni, his voice will crack (‘velli’). He can’t sing in high pitch. He can try but the voice will crack.
What is your politics?
I am Left-leaning and pro-poor, but not a party worker. I’ve not written revolutionary poems like ONV (O N V Kurup) or Vayalar. But my film songs are revolutionary. But I’ve not written for the party aiming to be the chairman of Sahitya Akademi. (laughs)
You are a person with a scientific bent of mind. But you are religious too…
See the sandalwood paste on my forehead (touches the forehead). I sincerely believe in Indian culture. That is because Indian thoughts are scientific. I’m not talking in the language of RSS.
Do you believe in astrology too?
Astrology is a science. In 1976, NASA’s spaceship reached Mars and brought back Martian soil and declared the soil of Mars is red. But an Indian text written 5,000 years ago, Parasara Samhitha, called Mars Angaraka or the red one. How did that happen? Did we send a rocket at that time? We had possessed a science that was destroyed by outsiders.
Have heard that you made your wife write a letter to your ex-lover on the night of your wedding…
That was sweet revenge. In a way, cruel too.
There are stories that many leading actresses were in love with you...
Actresses with an artistic bent of mind prefer intellectuals. They have a mental affinity towards creators. Since they are performers, they grasp the beauty of a created work. Yes, there were some instances. But I preferred friendship. It’s not that I have taken a vow to be morally upright. It’s just fear... (laughs out loud).
What would you say is the biggest contribution you have made to Malayalam films?
As a filmmaker, my good contributions have been Gaanam and Mohiniyattam. As far as lyrics go, I can proudly say that I’ve made immense contributions. Akale akale neelaakasham and Hridaya sarassile... are now 56 years old. They can be called pensioners (laughs). But they still are evergreen ones...