1st and last Tamil film noir!*

Andha Naal (That day, Tamil;1954)

http://chennaimadras.blogspot.com/2010/03/forgotten-escape.html
"1943 Japanese Fighter Plane dropped bombs on City and disappeared"

'That day' refers to the day Japanese bombers dropped their bombs into Madras - 11th October 1943 at 11pm! - Hey, I did not know that the Japanese went that far. I thought the war ended when they were still at the India-Burma border! A quick Google check revealed that Japanese planes did indeed run a half-hearted practice bombing of Madras. In 1914 (World War 1) too, that town was bombarded by a German light cruiser ship, SMS Emden, for a good half an hour. As you recall, SMS Emden made a heroic entry into Penang Harbour disguised as a British ship to sink down a Russian ship (Zhemchug) in the Battle of Penang. It made a speedy escape to continue her terror to be labelled the most hunted ship of that era.

The film starts with Rajan (Sivaji), a radio engineer, falling to the ground in Sivaji's usual dramatic fashion after a gunshot.

The neighbour, Chinnaya, upon hearing the gunshot, runs to inform a policeman nearby. A police inspector and CID officer, Sathyanandam (Jawar Seetharaman, who also wrote the screenplay), comes to the scene of the crime to investigate. Many of the suspects' stories are told in a series of flashbacks, like in the TV law drama Petrocelli in the 1970s.

He starts interviewing Chinnaya about the case. Chinnaya tells his version of whom he thought was the killer. Chinnaya overheard Rajan involved in a heated argument over the family property, and a threat of murder was overheard with his brother, Pattabi. When Pattabi was interviewed, he reiterated that Pattabi's hot-tempered, money-minded wife had a feud with her brother-in-law Rajan over money matters. He suspects that his (Pattabi's) wife would have killed him after seeing Rajan pack his luggage with all his money.

Pattabi's wife, on the other hand, reveals that Rajan has a mistress, Anbujam and has overheard Rajan refusing to take responsibility for their unborn child. She suggests that Ambujam would have killed him after seeing him about to run away without her.

When interviewed, Ambujam, a dancer, reveals that she was initially Chinnaya's mistress but had changed lovers after meeting Rajan. That infuriated Chinnaya, who must have blown his top after discovering that Ambujam and Rajan were to elope from a love letter.

The police officer reaches a dead end. Rajan's wife, Usha (Pandaribai), is then interviewed. Rajan and Usha were actively involved in Indian nationalistic activities in college.

In the finale, in true whodunit fashion, all the suspects (Chinnaya, Pattabi, Hema, Usha, and Ambujam) congregate in Rajan's house.

The CID officer's tricks brought out a confession. Usha starts telling her side of the story. After meeting Usha in a nationalist meeting, they fall in love and get married. He tries in vain to get a decent living by selling his radio invention all over India. After managing to sell his invention to Japan, he becomes their mole. Overhearing a radio instruction from Japan on the bombing of Madras, a quarrel starts between Usha and Rajan.

As we know, there were two groups of nationalists in India circa WW2; one who fought for the British against the Japanese, hoping to get self-rule in return, and the other who worked with the Japanese to drive the colonial master out of India lock, stock and barrel. Rajan (like Subash Chandra Bose) was in the latter. Usha believed that Indians should decide their future, not bring in foreigners to determine their future. She quotes how Babur was brought in from Afghanistan by warring brothers in the Lodi Dynasty. Babur then established the Mughal Empire. Internal problems between Nawabs brought the British, who also became their master, so there was a possibility that history would follow suit. A power-packed dialogue-filled argument fills up a good half an hour of the movie's tail-end. After seeing the joy in her husband's face after the Madras bombing and seeing the map of destruction planned for Tamil Nadu, she hurls a revolver at him. During a struggle, the trigger goes off, and Rajan dies.

An excellent movie with rich dialogue, the right lighting for film noir and high-quality acting. It is said to be the only film noir ever made in Tamil. Even though it earned awards for its quality, it did not bring in quite a return that the producers had expected. Without any songs, pretty damsels' dance sequences and swashbuckling heroism but lengthy dialogue, the Indian public would have felt short-changed and taken for a ride! After Koondukili, this is the only movie in which Sivaji acts as a villain. A good story that ended with quite a surprise. A+ in my books of good Tamil movies.

See here, here and here for the excellence of Tamil noir!

*Based on Akira Kurosawa's 1950 film 'Rashômon'. Next movie to watch! 

Sir C, The Lord of the Lords!

So one midweek night, at about 8 as I was calling it a day at work, I received a call on my mobile phone from an vaguely familiar voice from a unknown land line. He went on rattling with the usual pleasantries. As social etiquette dictates, I returned the kind pleasantries until he asked whether I could recognise who he was. I plainly told him no and guess what - I have not seen him in 10 years! (and he expected me to recognise his voice out of nowhere!
Anyway, he is nice guy who does not mean any harm to anyone. Quite an interesting character actually...
I first came to know of his acquaintance about 20 years ago. By then, he was a senior doctor with years of experience supervising interns in his own unique way. In his mid 40s then, he was a bachelor, a laid back character who was contended with life caring for his brothers and sisters as well as any sick and poor patient who would walk through the department door. He did not give much credence to post graduate studies. His parents had pass on quite earlier on and he had to shoulder the daunting task of being the head of the family to his much younger siblings. One of the sibling was mentally challenged.
C, was an amiable old chap much liked by his contemporaries, was fondly 'knighted' by them as Sir C. During one of his call days, he had to perform as many as 3 Lords' procedure for thrombosed piles. This prompted some to also refer to his as Lord C.
A year after working together, I moved on to another department but still kept in contact. About 5 years ago, he retired from public service. He is supplementing his income by doing locum work. He is now married with a son. Till date, he does not carry a mobile phone. Anyone meaning to contact him has to do so the old fashion way - leave a message in his home and he would return call. (No FB or Twitter accounts, naturally) -but he is happy. I wonder what car is he driving these days. I remember him in his old Toyota LE 1.3.

You can't take the film out of an Indian!

As part of their plan to change the landscape of attendees of the temple from a predominantly geriatric population who are trying to postpone their face to face appointment with their Maker to a much younger one and to enhance the inter and intra familial ties, the ladies wing of the temple committee that I attend decided to hold a variety show in their premises. The other agenda on the list was to source funds to channel towards an orphanage.
Well, you would think that getting orphanage to participate in this fare should be easy. Not really! Most of these institutions have their appointment books all packed with invitations from well wishers. They even limit the type of handouts that you can offer them. They can choose because they are not beggars! In a land of plenty like ours, everyone is affluent.
You would not be penalised if you think that there would not be any takers for purchase of ticket to this show. Wrong again. The tickets sold off faster than hot cakes, leaving many disappointed souls.
The theme of the show was 'Hum Saath Saath Hain' (we stand united) to illustrate the fact that a family that  spend time together feasting the eyes, mind and palate together would stand united as a happy family. 'Hum Saath Saath Hain' is a title of a Hindi movie that came out in the 90s of the trial and tribulations of an extended family. Someone said that he felt so nauseated throughout the film as every character were just much too sweet to each other sacrificing for others' wellbeing! (Like drinking 50% dextrose, you will puke!)

Good for you!

The show started keeping to Malaysian or Indian timings as the attendees were Malaysians and Indians. An excellent Masters of Ceremony kept the crowd in stitches and at their toes as he went around getting the audience involved in the event. The audience kept their side of the bargain by performing songs and going on stage as easy as flipping the coin. 
The event appeared like a remembrance of sorts for the recent passing of the Hindi film superstar, Rajesh Khanna. Many of the quiz questions and background songs were from his movies. Some of the performances were choreographed to his songs!

Can't keep the eyes off!

The performances flowed in seamlessly as the guests were digging into their delicious vegetarian cuisines. In midst of lucky draws were pantomime by the priest and his family on a sketch of how God works in mysterious ways, a Bollywood song singing competition between sexes (Antakshari), an imitation of a reality show as seen in Hindi channel, dances by the young and the old, music from Bollywood and a finale by the organising committee.
The organisers managed to grasp the attention of all ( from young to old) and made them stay around way past their bed times! They also managed to show how a wholesome show suitable for the whole family can be organised. Of course, the whole evening would have been a turn-off if it appeared preachy with hymns and prayers only. If not for Bollywood input, it would not have been possible. A right balance of entertainment and family values was maintained.  Kudos!


*Antakshri (Devnagri: अन्ताक्षरी, Urdu: انتاکشری) is a spoken parlour game played in India, Bangladesh, Pakistan and Nepal. Each contestant sings the first verse of a (usually Bollywood) movie song that begins with the Hindi or Urdu consonant on which the previous contestant's song selection ended.

Heritage lost?

Do Re Mi (Malay, 1966)
By mid 1960s, P Ramlee's popularity waned rock bottom. Introduction of colour and big budget into production of Hindi films drew most Malayan viewers away from local cinema scene. All the good life and rich food had a toll on his appearance. P Ramlee had ballooned out. His concaved cheeks and carved torso had puffed up. His hairline was receding.
Do Re Mi was his comeback attempt. It was quite successful that over the next years, a few sequels were offered, 'Laksamana Do Re M'i being the last before his demise.
A full length comedy with sometimes nonsensical joke with a hint of subtly jabbing the lifestyle of the Malays of that era. No matter how many times I watch it, I am sure to laugh at a P Ramlee comedy. Hence, my kids decided to get a copy of 'Do Re Mi' for my last birthday.
A movie from a bygone where Malayans were more liberal with their dressing and behaviour. Gone are the body hugging contour enhancing baju kebaya and slim waist with elaborate beehive hair-do as well as the gyrating at nightclubs and dance halls.
Knowing well that P. Ramlee films always gives a smile even after umpteenth times watching it, my kids decided to present me with a DVD of P. Ramlee's 'Do Re Mi'.

The creditors at Do's house

It starts with the story of the respective stories of Do (P Ramlee), Re (AR Tompel) and Mi (Din Ibrahim) and how they came to meet each other. Do is a loafer who rather spend his time playing checkers than bringing home some money. When creditors turn up at his doorstep, he and wife device an elaborate scheme to fake their death and deceiving some money from the wife's parent. The hilarious plan backfires and Do leaves his wife in pursuit of happiness.
Re is a henpecked husband who is cruelly bullied by his nightclub going young wife. One day, a burglar broke into their house and took her life savings. Re is falsely accused of stealing the cash and is chased out from the house.
Mi is another 'stylish but penniless' youngster who is jobless and depends on handouts from a neighbour girl whom he has set both his eyes on.
Do, Re and Mi meet at a crowded Labour office for a job. They helped to apprehend a snatch thief and became friends. They decide to venture into business together. They become road side singing paddler selling their own preparation of concoction of charcoal, kerosene and mud!
After a hilarious rib tickling foolhardy, they get running helter skelter when their antic is discovered. They get running, promising to return with a sequel....
People who grew up with P Ramlee movies will enjoy watching them forever even though the background music score never changes. The music score for suspense, comedy and anger is stereotype in most Malay films of that era.
His movies tickle ourselves to laugh at ourselves. Simple scene of Mi grooming himself in front of the mirror illustrates this. Mi is singing and whistling merrily combing his greased hair down. He is admiring his nice batik shirt but scorns at his ragged worn out comb with hardly any teeth! Then there is a mask near the mirror that he scolds for eating up the teeth. He comes out of a dilapidated shack called house and catcalls his neighbour girlfriend. After a few teasing and showing faces by the lady, he approaches her for 2 ringgit. He wanted bus fare money to go to the Labour office to apply for a job! Classic scene when you see it yourself!

It's just another day!

When no midwives....

Just like a wave, every few months once, just like the durian season, the main stream newspapers will be glowing with letters from concerned parents of pathetic junior doctors who are at wits end after being bullied, overworked and underpaid in the public hospitals. Just like clockwork, will materialise news of housemen dying due to some mysterious circumstances. Like this one!
http://www.nst.com.my/nation/general/houseman-found-dead-1.73153
Then like watching a P Ramlee film re-run, the next course can be predicted. A national referendum will be initiated which will start every politician and wannabe scrawny leader to insert his 2-cents of worthless buffoonish talk until the whole news dries up like yesterdays' rain.
It appears like the practice of medicine is not cut for the new generation of youngsters whose mind is always inquisitive and expect instant gratification, less on the talk and more on the action. After years of being mollycoddled and care for by their parents and maids, perhaps taking care of somebody else for a change and inundated with decisions and pressures is not their cup of tea (or Coke) or coup de grâce.
They should realise that patients do not stroll in to customise to your clock-in clock-out schedules, following pre-set rules. It is a tedious monotonous lonely job like an angler in the middle of an ocean but for some it is just fine!
It may be with filled thankless duties laced with movie dialogue pleads which is all but forgotten as fast as they are strong to sing and fly, and the people who really need your real help with real problem will only be able to shower you with gratitude which may feed the soul but not the body, not the showers of the ka-ching type.

The wig

Nobody gives a damn whether you had a bad day, sleepless night,  having a ureteric colic or dysentery after eating food laid out for hours (but could not eat because you were settling other people's headaches!) But who cares. They would growl of their own ailments. You are the medicine man, heal thyself. You chose this profession, do not complain, deal with it. If not move on, there are others who can easily fit into your shoes.
Once you misstep, their friendly shark spirited lawyer friends and not so quite law savvy but self professed guardians of principles will start sharpening their steely knives to go your jugular or at least only strip you in naked in the coldest subzero winters of Saskatchewan if they are kind enough.
So housemen must grow up, medicine is not your passport to entry to your country club or Tattler's magazine. Your contemporaries will be lifeless, dull, unattractive, your workplace will smell of grime, excrement and urine but your playground will be the ever precious human body and life. You will not just be red-carded but have to pay a heavy penalty for to be a killer conversation piece in the next party and to colourise tomorrow's headlines!
Hey, with great powers come great responsibilities and bigger law suits!
These days, housemen have to take of 2 to 4 patients per day but they throw in the towel and call it stressful. They hide under the blanket of neuro-chemical dys-synergia and beg for prescription.
I started housemanship on that faithful day of 1st August 1988. After running around doing the administrative work in the state health office, I showed my face at Klang Hospital. The moment my group of housemen showed up at the Consultant's door, he just took me in like Doc in 'Back to the Future1' and roped me in to take of a ward of 40 over medical patients and conveniently do a 24 hour call on that same day. It was like throwing a waddler to the deep end and to tell him to swim  or die! And swam we did with all the intrinsic muscles of the whole body to stay afloat.
I remember how I survived the whole night without a single wink but without feeling tired the following day. Patients made sure I never slept. Just as I finished settling all the new admissions around midnight, a slightly mentally unstable patient threatened to end his life by standing on the railing of the 8th floor. I had to play negotiator coaxing him to abandon his plan like Mel Gibson on 'Lethal Weapon'. Just that, we both did not take the plunge!
Then came a supposed upholder of law handcuffed by the law from the house of correction (gaol) professing to be bogged by myocardial infarct. A naive straight thinking simpleton in me (like Mitch McDeere in John Grisham's 'The Firm') went through the whole nine yards to ascertain his true condition. Even though not warranted, he pleaded for him to be placed in Intensive Care Unit. A few calls here and there illustrated his true precarious situation. His real problem was his gut or his manhood! Gut? Manhood? He (a lawyer) was due to appear in front a wig (magistrate) the following day for criminal breach of trust case- misappropriating his clients' funds and he neither had the gut nor was man enough to face his destiny.
And a few early morning wheezers and new admissions, a new dawn came around and morning was broken. After a quick shower, another day and a new set of problems to see and rectify. Slipping into a white coat, donning a stethoscope....It's just another day.....

Happy 24th year anniversary to myself! FG.

National integration in temple

In Rome do what Romans do.
When the English brought indented labourers from India, they brought with them their culture, religion and way of life. To keep them contended, the colonial master built arrack shop and let them build their own place of worship. Over the generations, the Indians who migrated to this land for better life have blended well into the society. They contributed their sweat, life and blood to transform this backwater malarial infested land into a near developed country with the help of other citizens. Well, malaria has been replaced by dengue, that's another story!
National integration, at least from the food perspective has infiltrated into Hindu temples. This, I discovered today. Generally, the Aadi month (the fourth month of the Tamil calendar) as I knew when I was growing up, was an inauspicious for many life altering events like weddings, consummation for newly weds, moving into a new house or childbirth. Now, I have come to understand that it is actually a good month for Goddesses and unmarried ladies to pray for a good husband! And now over the years, the temples have started becoming hive with activities, thus generating business again for themselves and its off-shoots that benefit from it (i.e.florists, caterers, textiles etcetera).
Historically, Aadi may have been a busy month for the farming community to work on their next crop cycle. Aadi was also a bad month for business. Couples who slept in Aadi run a risk of delivering their offspring in May, the hottest month in Tamil Nadu, perhaps when the highest rate of puerperal sepsis was!

Vegetarian nasi lemak with  crispy soya based
fake anchovies, peanuts and hot red spicy sauce.

So, I attended one of these prayers honouring Goddess Amman. After the long symbolic ceremony, again signifying the greatness of a weary space traveller with her various paraphernalia exhibited during the course of the elaborate prayers, we were treated to a vegetarian meal in the temple premises.
Adding Malaysian flavour to the menu was our good old nasi lemak, one of Malaysians' all time favourite dish. Of course, in keeping with the sensitivities of the host and the premises, it was a strictly vegetarian fare. Off the list of ingredients were eggs, anchovies and shrimp paste (belacan). The taste may not satisfy the tastebuds of die hard nasi lemak enthusiast but it tasted more than 80% as good.
And I was thinking to myself, "You can't force national integration. Given time, it would evolve by itself sooner or later!".

100/100 for fresh idea!

Nootrukku Nooru (100/100, Tamil; 1971)
I remember watching this film way back in the RRF days when RTM used it show on Wednesdays, rudely interrupted by hourly news just to be told that the King had cut some ribbons at some function, told again and again in various languages. I do not remember the ending of it probably because our old cathode tube TV got overheated and stopped transmitting or the power supply went off. Finally after almost 40 years, I managed to catch it on You Tube. 
This time around (as usual), K. Balachander wrote the story, screenplay and directed the flick. This film is not ground breaking but the story is different, swaying away from the typical boy meets girls, falls in love against all odds, resistance, persistence and love wins the day type but decides to sort of venture into a kind of Hitchcockian type of right man wronged!

Also gone are the pathetic melodramatic wailing and cheesy interpersonal relationships. The setting in an urban set-up where girls are given equal opportunities in education and equal strata in daily life. Still, what is life without a pinch of Indian masala to ensure returns on your film venture. There is a dream scene, lots of songs and wise crack comedy to complement this different offering.

Prakash, a young suave bespectacled Mathematics professor, (a young Jaishankar) is accused of molestation by a female student, Manjula (a young Sri Vidya). When the principal (Gemini Ganesan) holds an closed door enquiry, it just opens a can of worms. Another student, Kaulsaya, accuses the exemplary teacher of writing (typing) a love letter. Prakash's Anglo-Indian landlord's daughter, Stella (Vijayalalitha), also accuses him impregnating her! Prakash, who is already engaged to be married to Laxmi (actress Lakshmi) also his student, has the predicament of not only tarnishing his image and smearing his spotless career but also having his wedding cancelled.

His situation seems hopeless when the police enters the scene. His only supporting pillars are Laxmi, her brother, Ramesh, (Nagesh) who is also a student at Prakash's class as well as the male students of the class.

The thing in the movie that fascinated me was the way how the story is re-acted repeatedly with different versions as different people tell their side of the story. The climax is when everybody's story seem believable and another girl appears suggesting that she might be the wife of the learned professor!

One by one with the help of Laxmi and her brother, the mystery in unravelled. During a student demonstration, Ramesh discovers that a fellow student (Y.G. Mahendra) has problems with Tamil alphabets ற and ர - the same errors found in Kausalya's alleged love letter. The students managed to beat out a confession from him. He had used the professor's typewriter to express his feelings to a misunderstood Kausalya. He decided to remain mum after the police came to picture!
The alleged 'Professor's wife' is just another cheated student whom the kind Prakash was trying to help her.
Stella got involved in a premarital liaison with a construction worker which resulted in her pregnancy. Fearing the hot tempered father, she jumps the band wagon in accusing the pathetic lecturer even though he was just trying to help her out of her mess. 
Manjula's case proved a tough nut to crack. With the help of the magistrate, Prakash managed to re-enact the alleged incidence that supposed to have happened in the college classroom. Prakash purposely tries to be promiscuous to Manjula. A surprised Manjula goes sprawling away from her desk leaving her books strewn all over the floor. This was the give way tell tale sign as her mother confessed that on the day of the incidence, she distinctly remembered Manjula coming home with her books in her hand! Prakash reiterated that any scared student wronged upon would have the last thing on her mind to pick up the book and run home. Manjula then confessed that it was all a cooked-up story after hearing that Professor Prakash was getting married soon. She developed a severe kind of teenage infatuation.
Prakash's innocence was proven and his job was reinstated. The stalled wedding plans continued from where it was stopped. Unfortunately, Stella committed suicide out of shame that she brought to the family.

Vijayalalitha

This film can be said to be a deviant from the standard format and storytelling of most Indian cinema stories. It was a fresh effort from a batch of new director and his band of new faces.
Jaishanker proved his mantle as a hero material with his likeable and dashing face. Unfortunately, he never reached the demi-god status of his predecessors (MGR and Sivaji) as well as his successors (Kamalhasan and Rajnikanth). Maybe, he was born at the wrong time.
Srividya, whom we are familiar seeing in mother or older ladies' roles looks so naively young. Lakshmi, who is still acting, went on to act in many feminist roles later as well as her biggest blockbuster in 'Julie'.
Vijayalalitha as Stella who is often seen as a cabaret dancer and or a villain in most Tamil movies gets a meaty role here. Unfortunately, in my opinion, her acting is much to be desired and she does not look too appealing in her bob-cut Anglo-Indian look! To my surprise, she actually had carved her name in the Telugu and Hindi film scenes.
Even though Kamalhasan is given credit on You Tube, I could not see him anywhere in the film. Perhaps, Kausalya's secret admirer is misconstrued as Kamal. (I think it is YG Mahendra with his irritating high pitched comical trademark voice). Nagesh, as usual, is a one man laughing machine. 
Manohar, the eternal bad guy is Manjula's father here. Pity him, he never got recognition for his acting over the years. Maybe because his acting appears the same in all his movies - bad tempered villainous stereotypical roles.
All in all, a good viewing with some familiar nostalgia songs.