Manichitrathazhu: Classic Sans Parallel

I could not think of a better opener for this blog; a movie I have viewed, reviewed and re-viewed a great number of times- and still haven't had enough.

The movie was released in 1993 – I'm not sure which month (although I recall an interview where Mr Fazil, the Director, admits to have released the film in good time to be the best contender for the State Film Awards)- and went on to become one of the most memorable Malayalam movies ever made. Sweeping awards, spawning remakes... the film remains an unchallenged masterpiece.

The Tale (For the uninitiated few)

Manichitrathazhu opens in an unnamed, idyllic village ( must be in Alleppey, going by the dialect, names and closeness to Evoor- the only indicative reference throughout the movie) with Unnithan, a simpleton, checking in on the refurbishments at an old mansion- Madamballi- of which he has been assigned custodianship.

The Mansion belongs to Saradamma, his sister-in-law from Calcutta, and being a responsible Taluk officer and doting husband, he's anxious about the preparations in anticipation of the visit of Saradamma and her family. However, only Saradamma's young son Nakulan and his wife Ganga come down, this being their first visit to Kerala since marriage. The entire family - Uncle Thampi the patriarch ( Saradamma's brother), his wife and three children; Unnithan, his wife Bhasura ( another sister of Thampi) and daughter Alli- fuss around the young couple.

Thampi, in fact, tries his best to suppress his resentment of the sophisticated Ganga ( since he had wanted his daughter Sreedevi to marry Nakulan and upon Saradamma's refusal to the alliance, got Sreedevi wedded on the same day to another man, hiding a major flaw in her horoscope. Sreedevi's in-laws reject her on knowing this, forcing her into a widow-like existence at her father's house) and warns Nakulan that staying at Madamballi may not augur well for girls coming from other families. At this point, the viewer is reminded that the Madamballi mansion- which the villagers dread from visiting- is really unsafe. However, Nakulan brushes aside his uncle's apprehensions and decide to move in with his wife, much to Thampi's concern.

The story now focusses on the couple. Nakulan is a hardworking engineer whose work keeps him engrossed all the time. Ganga is an energetic, urbane Archaeology Graduate who occupies herself with poetry and books, apparently unaffected by her husband's professional commitments.She takes a liking to Nakulan's bubbly cousin Alli, who visits often. Alli discloses that she's engaged to her lecturer Mahadevan, who's incidentally one of Ganga's favourite poets. Ganga is even more thrilled to know that Mahadevan stays just next-door ro Madampalli.

Alli and Ganga explore the Mansion- searching for a suitable room which Ganga could convert into a library. This takes them to the forbidden Thekkini ( the room to the South), which they are unable to open since it has been sealed with a sacred lock ( Chithrappoottu). Thampi the patriarch intervenes and warns Ganga, forbidding her from opening the Thekkini, lest she should incur the wrath of the dead. A piqued Ganga approaches Aunt Bhasura, who explains to her the story of the jinxed room.

Legend had it that about a century-and-a-half ago, the then-patriarch Sankaran Thampi- a cruel, rapacious man- brought down a beautiful dancer Nagavalli from Tanjavur and put her up at the Thekkini. Nagavalli's secret lover Ramanathan came to rescue her and stayed next door to the mansion. Somehow, Sankaran Thampi got wind of the affair as well as of the lovers' elopement plans. Angered, he killed Nagavalli in her room. Eight days afterward- on the auspicious Durgashtami, Nagavalli returned as a vampire, lusting for Thampi's blood. Thampi, aided by powerful sorcerers, managed to capture the vampire and lock it up in the Thekkini. In due course, Sankaran Thampi commited suicide. The spirits of both these troubled characters have been rumoured to haunt the Thekkini wherein they have been 'locked' with the Chithrappoottu.

Ganga, although fascinated by the story, shrugs it off as a purported tale to keep trespassers from the Thekkini where, she believed, some ancient musical instruments have been preserved. Her Archaeologist instincts are aroused and she forges a key and unlocks the spooky room.

She discovers to her delight, the secret treasures in the room: jewels, musical instruments and other antique belongings of Sankaran Thampi and Nagavalli ( not to mention their life-like portraits).

However, Uncle Thampi – more worried that the Spirit's Bloodlust for the patriarch might befall him and his family than chagrined at Ganga's effrontery- decides to take corrective measures for the trespass into the sacrosanct Thekkini.

Pandemonium ensues in the Madamballi household: Uncle Thampi and his well-wishers carry out elaborate rituals to re-lock Nagavalli's spirit- only to be chased out of the Thekkini by a female apparition; servants and neighbours report similar 'sightings'; crockery and furniture get broken, Ganga's clothes catch fire...

The pragmatic Nakulan suspects Sreedevi
( who has invited herself and brother to stay at the mansion “lest something untoward should befall Nakulan and Ganga”, but has been displaying more-than-necessary interest and enthusiasm in Nakulan's affairs) of causing the havoc, and tells his uncle Thampi so in no uncertain terms. Things turn sour between Nakulan and his uncle; with the former insisting on seeking the best psychiatric treatment for Sreedevi, and the latter admonishing Nakulan and his irreverent views ( and wife). By now, Nakulan's entire kin moves in to Madampalli Mansion. Sreedevi's hyperactive behaviour reinforces Nakulan's doubts in everyone's minds- and a crestfallen uncle Thampi ( who resigns to the inevitable truth that the Vampire has indeed possessed his hapless daughter) proceeds in search of more powerful sorcerers to 'cure' Sreedevi.

Enter Nakulan's friend Dr Sunny Joseph, an acclaimed yet somewhat eccentric psychiatrist from USA. Soon, he experiences some of the bizarre goings-on in Madampalli: Alli gets chased around the house and gets locked up in a suffocating room by an unseen follower, Sunny's bags get burnt... he resolves to lock the miscreant up with a Manichithrappoottu ( Ornate Lock).

Dr Sunny familiarises himself with the mansion in his frivolous, freaky manner- much to the consternation of the family elders. He tries to befriend the grim-looking Sreedevi, teasing and provoking her. Sreedevi keeps a wary distance from Sunny. One night, Sunny hears a soulful Tamil song from the Thekkini and tries in vain to catch the elusive singer ( the viewers get to see only a woman's shadow ). He checks in on Sreedevi, who at that time is asleep. Next morning, a confused Sunny is taken around the Thekkini by Ganga, who enthusiastically shows him Nagavalli's portrait, Ramanathan's hideout , the dancer's jewels...

Sunny seems to get an idea into the mystery, but goes about his eccentricities as usual-flirting with an increasingly resistant Sreedevi, teasing her homophobic brother Chandu, sending Nakulan to the temple accompanied by Sreedevi, stubbornly arguing with the more knowledgeable Ganga on the questionable authenticity of Nagavalli's missing anklet, cribbing to Nakulan about her haughtiness... That night, he hears music from the Thekkini, sneaks upstairs and , posing as the fabled Sankaran Thampi ,talks to the apparition in the room ( behind the safety of locked doors, of course), who introduces herself as Nagavalli. The vampire rants and raves, threatening to kill him on the soon-to-come Durgashtami ( the eighth in the nine-day Dusshera festival)day. Sunny orders the apparition to return on Durgashtami. He becomes more vigilant and purposeful from then. He advises young Chandu ( who's determined to dispel his sister's alleged mental illness) from wandering about alone at night. He rides to a distant village Evoor and interviews some householders and School authorities. He persuades uncle Thampi to lock up Sreedevi as a precaution, but in vain. One day, he discovers an empty bottle of poison in the kitchen, next to a boiling milkpot. In a flash of understanding, he rushes in time to stop Nakulan from drinking the poisoned tea. In the presence of the entire shocked family ( including a visibly uneasy Ganga), he forcibly drags away Sreedevi and locks her up in a room. An outraged Sreedevi vehemently resists the accusation, repeatedly asking Sunny ,” Do you think I poisoned the tea- I, I?” Sunny puts her on sedation.

Days pass, with the family drowned in collective gloom over Sreedevi's predicament. Uncle Thampi, advised by the Revered Brahmadattan Namboothiripad ( a powerful sorcerer) , reinstates the nine-day Navaratri ( Dusshera) celebrations at the Madampalli ancestral temple. On the seventh day, a Kathakali performance is staged in the temple, and the entire family attends it. Sunny drags the workaholic Nakulan to the temple too, and apparently enjoys the performance. Nevertheless, he continues his irksome mannerisms among the audience; at times repeatedly glancing backwards, where the women ( including a deeply engrossed Ganga) are seated. He looks back the third time and discovers that Ganga is missing. Agitated, he leaves the temple and searches for Ganga all over. He's soon joined by a concerned Nakulan, who has just noticed Ganga's absence. The two friends are shocked to discover Ganga in the backyard of the mansion, clothes tattered, straining to escape a bewildered Mahadevan. Nakulan beats him up thinking that Mahadevan was forcing himself on Ganga, while an exhausted Dr Sunny pacifies him. Painfully, Sunny reveals to Nakulan his shocking finding: that the mental patient of Madampalli was none other than Ganga.

Dr Sunny elaborates that the day he landed at Madamplaii, he was convinced without doubt that Sreedevi was normal; that the real patient was somebody else; somebody elusive. His doubts get confirmed when he's accompanied by Ganga to the Thekkini. Ganga's hyper- enthusiasm when showing him Nagavalli's jewels, betrayed some “peculiar psychic vibrations”. Sunny almost attributed Ganga's illness to the uncomfortable presence of her husband's could-have-been bride, Sreedevi; had it not been for the fateful day when he urged Nakulan to visit the temple with Sreedevi. Ganga was unaffected by Sreedevi's proximity to her husband, but reacted oddly, ominously, when Sunny contradicted her on Nagavalli's anklet. Her expressions took on a murderous look, and for a few seconds, she was transforming into the bloodthirsty vampire Nagavalli. Sunny diagnoses Ganga with Multiple Personality Disorder which, he explained, was the outcome when an individual assumes a more powerful alter-ego, when he wants to ventilate his consciously- repressed emotions. In Ganga's case, the powerful alter-ego is Nagavalli. This transformation equips the patient with near-magical prowess- like ability to dance and sing in a foreign language, to break/ burn things unnoticed... The conversations he had with Nagavalli, while posing himself as Shankaran Thampi, revealed to him the intentions of Ganga's mental alter-ego. He visited Evoor, Ganga's native town to learn more about her past. Ganga was raised in the village by her grandmother, a devout lady who kindled her imagination with songs,stories and fables. However, Ganga longed for her parents to be with her, but they were busy building their careers in far-away Calcutta. Ganga grew up as a bright student in school. Out of the blue, she is informed of her parents' plans for her higher education in Calcutta. The prospect of leaving her grandma and the village- of which she was inseparably fond- troubled Ganga deeply, leading to an early mental breakdown- her first psychic disorder. Ganga's parents flew down from- and promptly returned with her- to Calcutta for her treatment. Although a sedative cured her well enough to forget her past and prepare her for the fast-paced urbane life in Calcutta, the “possibility of another psychic order” lay dormant in Ganga. She married Nakulan, and came to know about his ancestral mansion. An eager Ganga accompanied her husband to his village; promptly embracing its rustic simplicity – plus its fables and superstitions. Her forbidden Thekkini and its intriguing rumours captured her imagination- so much so that she gradually started empathising with the tragic heroine Nagavalli, losing her own individuality in the process.

Dr Sunny felt that the best way to treat Ganga was to keep her oblivious to her illness. He revealed that once, when Ganga's illness started to show up in front of the entire family, he had diffused the situation by blaming an innocent Sreedevi and distracted Ganga by locking up Sreedevi. Later, he had persuaded Sreedevi to act as a lunatic so that Ganga could go unsuspected and eventually get cured. Thus, he had kept Ganga- and the rest of the family in the dark about her illness.

What he did not reveal to Nakulan was that, during Ganga's moments of transformation into Nagavalli, she nursed the hallucination that Nakulan was the cruel Patriarch Shankaran Thampi; while the agreeable Mahadevan was her lover Ramanathan. The whole pretence of getting abused by Mahadevan was an attempt to break his engagement with Alli, so that Ganga ( Nagavalli) could reclaim her lover ( Ramanathan). Worse still, Nagavalli was determined to kill Sankaran Thampi on Durgashtami day and if her plan failed, she would kill herself! Dr Sunny is caught in a dilemma- whether he should cure his patient Ganga by letting her kill his best friend Nakulan; or save Nakulan and watch Ganga commit suicide. He feels demoralised and sighs that only a miracle can save both Ganga and her husband.

The plot takes a dramatic turn when Pullattupuram Sree Brahmadattan Nampoothiripad presents himself on Durgashtami day, in order to carry out some powerful pujas in the family. Uncle Thampi and his kin are visibly relieved upon his arrival, but they get the biggest shock of their lives when the grand old sorcerer recognises Dr Sunny from his previous visits to USA, where he had been impressed by Sunny's expertise in parapsychology. A confidential discussion follows between Dr Sunny and Nampoothiripad, which flares into an impassioned argument: The older man tries to convince Sunny that the logical thing to do was to separate Nakulan and his mentally-ill wife, now that her murderous intentions were clear. Sunny declares that he's willing to “break all conventional concepts of psychiatry” for the sake of his close friend and his beloved wife, since he wants them to be together. Nampoothiripad encourages Sunny to do his best. A motivated Sunny decides to carry out a dangerous experiment: the first step was to appraise Ganga that she is ill, and if she outlives that shattering moment of truth, Sunny could carry out his second, more gruelling plan.

Upon Sunny's instructions,Nakulan encounters his enthusiastic wife getting ready for jewellery- shopping and firmly forbids her from going out.

Ganga is first surprised at her usually permissive husband's sudden volte- face, but when Nakulan sticks to his guns, she displays a dramatic transformation: her voice rasps, her veins grow taut, hair gets dishevelled, eyes flare open and she rants in Tamil “ You lowly dog! You still had the nerve to confront me... today's Durgashtami...I'm going to kill you, drink your blood and dance the Tandava upon your carcass...” and single-handedly lifts up a wooden bed in a display of brute strength. Nakulan, though at his wits' end, calls her name with all the courage he can muster, shocking his transformed wife to return to normalcy. Ganga realises, to her intense horror, that there's something terribly wrong with her. She breaks down and pleads her husband not to leave her; not to hate her. Nakulan is overwhelmed- and helpless- but promises Ganga that he'd always be at her side. Ganga lapses into a deep sleep, while Nakulan argues with Dr Sunny on the futility of his way of treatment. Sunny assures him that if Ganga outlives one more crucial test, she could be cured completely. Nakulan offers his own life if need be, but begs of his friend to revive Ganga.

Nakulan, Sunny and Mahadevan ( whom Sunny calls upon 'for assistance') watch over Brahmadattan's elaborate rituals from a balcony outside Ganga's bedroom. They are distracted by the sound of anklets. Following it, they are led to the abandoned Dance Hall of the Mansion, where the threesome behold Ganga, dressed in Nagavalli's clothes and jewellery, dancing with abandon under the hallucination that she was performing before a royal audience.

Sunny and Nakulan watch undetected, but send Mahadevan to the dancer. She gets transfixed by the look on his face, like Nagavalli would have been in the presence of her beloved Ramanathan, and follows him- as if hypnotised- to the exorcism chamber where Nampoothiripad and his aides stood waiting.


To Ganga's delirious eyes, the assembled crowd appears as henchmen of the slimy Sankaran Thampi, waiting to attack her and Ramanathan. She spots Nakulan, and starts baying for his blood.The entire Madampalli family stare dumbfounded at the vision of their murderous daughter-in-law, but Dr Sunny takes control of the situation. In a brilliantly orchestrated

manoeuvre, Nampoothiripad and Sunny get Nagavally ready to behead Nakulan, but at the spine-chilling moment, replace him with an effigy. Nagavally vents out all her anger on the life-like effigy, chopping it to bits and savouring the gore...

Dr Sunny 'conditions' Ganga back to her normal self. Upon waking up, Ganga expresses her deep gratitude to Sunny, Sreedevi and everybody else, but was at a loss how to thank her Nakulan for loving her so unconditionally. She decides to go back to Calcutta to be with her husband -in body,mind and soul. Dr Sunny too, decides to leave with them- now that the purpose of his visit had been met. However, he visits Sreedevi- who lights up at his presence- and proposes to her, on the grounds that 'for Christians like him, horoscopes donot matter”. He promises to send his mom over to Uncle Thampi so that she could ask Sreedevi's hand in marriage for her son.

The film closes with Nakulan, Ganga and Sunny driving away from Madampalli Mansion; Sreedevi watching them leave with new hope in her eyes...

My Take:

I was undoubtedly smitten by the sheer magic of the film on my first viewing ( I was only 13 then, but the charm of the tale- and the creative manner in which it was narrated- gripped my imagination). I'm sure a large cross-section of the Malayalee population would agree with me on this.

Before I get too carried away eulogising the movie's acting talent , we must applaud one person who has remained unsung and uncelebrated, watching the rest of the bunch savour the accolades: Sri Madhu Muttom, whose script and lyrics have sustained the movie. It was sad to note how unceremoniously, we tend to forget the most instrumental people, irrespective of their contribution in immortalising a work of art. I must condemn the heartlessness of the 'remakers' of Manichithrathazhu more for their negligence in acknowledging Sri Muttom's contribution, than for their sheer clumsy handling of his brainchild script( which isn't even worth discussing). I bow before his creative genius, for penning such a soulful story, weaving out a magic carpet of a screenplay, and embellishing it with so subtle-yet-powerful dialogues. I haven't the requisite clout to contradict the various producers, who have' passed' the original story from one to another, but I do feel outraged at their collective verdict that “the story writer's role would finish when the story was handed over to the producer after accepting the remuneration.The producer have all the rights to sell the story to anybody according to his choice and the original writer could never question it.” ( http://news.oneindia.in/2007/02/15/manichitrathazhu-hindi-remake-kicks-up-row-1171538336.html)

Nevertheless, I vehemently feel that this cinematic classic wouldn't have been, if not for Sri Madhu Muttom!

It goes without saying that I started idolising the eclectic Shobana since this film- I'd never believed there was so much energy in that lithe being of a actress. She's really performed well- expressively- and the accolades she received were well- deserved. It is noteworthy that despite Manichithrathazhu brimming over with such histrionic talents as Mohanlal,Nedumudi,Thilakan et al, Shobana still stood forth as the undisputed best, although her best sequences in the film may have been about twenty minutes in all! ( Of course, one must acknowledge dubbing artiste Bhagyalakshmi, the signature voice behind Malayalam Silver Screen),but then, what do we have to say to the unforgettable 'Oru Murai...' and the somewhat extended exorcism scenes? To quote Shobana from a '94 interview, “... it was a very very different- and I could say, a difficult role; because in that film I had to play two characters... one was the normal, competent housewife- an outgoing, modern girl; but the other was – a maniac- she was a killer, who spoke a different language... I had to first believe in myself, to make the audience believe in me...so I had to believe that I was a killer, which was very difficult!” She goes on to say,” the “ 'Vidamattey?!' scene was the most difficult scene from the whole film... and from that character of Nagavalli, I had to transform back to Ganga...but Ganga is not a normal person then- she's just realised that she's sick... so she starts to cry and asks her husband ' donot leave me..'. So I found that change very difficult- from Nagavalli to Ganga'. Upon her dance sequence she feels that “In general, my dancing talents have not fully been exploited...in fact, Manichitrathazhu was the only film where I had some dancing to do- and the dance was not very relevant to the whole theme...”. However, her love for the film is evident when she asserts in her characteristic style “...I like to feature in artistically made films. there could be Art Films, there could be commercial films. Art films need not necessarily be good, and commercial films need not necessarily be bad. Well, Manichitrathazhu was by and large a commercial film, but it was a beautifully made commercial film!” The film worked well for Shobana, who at that time was going through a filmographic transition from a demure, doe-eyed damsel through a glamorous, diva-like, multifaceted icon to a mature actress.

Although I had grown up on a diet of “artistically made” Malayalam films of the 80s, this one established Director Fazil and Actress Shobana as the best, in my mindspace.

Director Fazil, the captain of the ship deserves a round of applause for his directorial panache. I have always found him to be a gifted raconteur: all his movies have had a story-telling charm that somehow makes the audience follow without protest.( not unlike a transfixed Nagavalli following Mahadevan- her Ramanathan- out of the dance hall, perhaps?) Must be the way the frames strike a chord deep within. Watching a Fazil movie makes me laugh, sigh and gulp involuntarily, Manichitrahtazhu being no exception. That's the sheer magnetic quality in his celluloid poetry- you're drawn, and then you walk with him; live his tale. Evidence of his directorial magic in sketching his deranged heroine is evident in the celebrated ' Vidamattey' scene and in the riveting climax, where Shobana's body language itself had a shock about it; the instability of her mind is lucidly translated into the confusion, and anger in her speech and posture... the way she pulls at the streamers, thrashes wildly, displaying childish obstinacy in one instant and unconcealed mania in the next... But his genius shows up in the subtler instances too- especially the powerful, seconds-long nuances ( most of which are presented as flash- back, but are woven seamlessly into the storyline) which reinforce Ganga's illness- like her reaction when contradicted by Sunny about the dancer's anklet; her agitation when her plans of poisoning Nakulan get foiled... ( Read more on http://varnachitram.com/2007/10/09/can-manichithrathazhu-be-remade/)

However, there are times when the viewer gets confused,too- like when Ganga longingly gazes at Mahadevan's house ( her eyes communicating an emotion quite unlike admiration)! In the closing scene, Ganga teases Alli about her wedding and first night. But the guy next to her, blushing, is not her fiancé, but her cousin Chandu ( who admits to have a crush on Alli)!
Was the engagement really off, then? Again, one simply logic- defying fact: Ganga, Sreedevi and Chandu stand in a semicircle of sorts; and a stone comes hurtling and breaks the glass pane of a wall-clock. Sunny explains later, that it was Ganga and her preternatural destructive psychosis at work, oblivious to others. Did she will a stone to fly in and shatter the glass?

Oh, and not to mention some glaring loopholes in the explanation of Ganga's psychosis ( Fazil, in a candid interview, revealed that he had anticipated his version of MPD to be ripped apart by psychiatrists, - but was gleeful that he faced no such issues): Every night, Ganga wakes up from Nakulan's bedside as Nagavalli, whose sole purpose is to murder him ( Sankaran Thampi). Why would she prefer to walk around the house, singing songs and scaring the servants, when she could rather have sliced his throat then and there ( particularly when the illness has equipped her with the uncanny ability to gauge his sleep)? Again, when Sunny knew that Nagavalli's motive was to kill Nakulan, why did he have to travel miles away to Evoor ( that too on a bicycle!), leaving Nakulan unprotected?( The argument that he had convinced Nagavalli to 'return' on Durgashtami only doesn't hold water since the tea-poisoning incident occurred before Durgashtami!) I do have a lot of queries on the Dual Personality explanation, bit I'd rather leave them unasked, lest I should wreck the charm of an imaginative tale... I should satisfy myself that in matters of the mind, well, nothing is impossible!( not to mention Mohanlal's disclaimer “ I'm going to break all conventional concepts of psychiatry!)

Manichithrathazhu maintains a perfect balance between art, sci-fi, suspense, comedy, eye-candy and entertainment. Art Direction by Mani Suchithra reflects well in Venu's cinematography- converting the museum-like Thripunithura Hill palace into the majestic yet creepy Madampalli Mansion ( maybe it had something to do with the subtly juxtaposed shots of Padmanabhapuram Palace too?).

The narrative also gets enlivened by the understated,sinister quality of Johnson's background score... think of the Thekkini-unlocking scenes, and the scenes when Sunny explores the room at midnight, the accompaniment to Ganga's transformation upon denied permission to go shopping... Like good conversation, the film's BG music also communicates through meaningful silences that heighten the suspense ( one, for instance, which gives way to the sound of crockery breaking when Nakulan scans the backyard; another which is pierced by Ganga's screams when her sari goes aflame- boy, I still remember how I had shuddered at this scene in the theatre!) For the faint-hearted, there was abundant comic relief provided by KPAC Lalitha and Innocent (as the bumbling Bhasura- Unnithan couple), Kuthiravattom Pappu ( as Kattuparamban, the village sorcerer who gets scared out of his sanity- remember when he asks the bicycle-riding Dasappan' “ Oh Meenakshi- what are you doing on a scooter?”- and his hydrophobic scenes?) and Ganeshkumar.

While Mohanlal's freaky comedy scored well- including a 'peeping' scene with Sudheesh- his impersonation of aeroplanes and auto rickshaws were a bit far-fetched. The striking costumes were another highlight in the movie- from Ganga's Calcutta sarees and designer Churidaars to Nagavalli's dance ensemble. Velayudhan Keezhillam, costume designer, recounts in an interview how he had researched into the period costume for Nagavalli's character- enthusiastically joined by Fasil and Shobana- only to discover to their collective horror that at the time of the flashback setting, Tamil dancers were scantily-clad, without blouses, and the Saree worn in a Ram- Teri-Ganga- Maili- style drape! Keezhillam and Shobana together worked out the cut for the dance costumes, taking care not to let the creation obstruct the latter's silver-footed dance steps. He also recalls how, hours before the actual shoot, Shobana 's plain white salwar-kameez was 'dramatised' with patches of men's shirtpieces! Fasil also jovially recollects Shobana's outrage when she was asked to appear for only two brief frames in an orange saree she had grown very fond of!

I would also like to dedicate this post to Music Maestro M.G Radhakrishnan, who breathed his last on the 2nd of July, 2010, weeks before this post went public. MG's soul-stirring music runs like life-blood through the classic film. The unforgettable 'Pazhanthamizhpaattizhayum..." remains one of the most haunting melodies in Malayalam films. The nostalgic 'Varuvaanillaarum..." evokes fond memories of good old times, thanks to its lilting tune. The use of rare ragas in the songs ( kunthala varali for 'Oru Murai'; Vaadi for 'Pazhamthamizhpaattizhayum.., Harikamboji for 'Varuvaanillaarumee...' .) have , no doubt, added to the richness of the film.

Oops, I almost missed out one stellar performance- Sridhar, the twinkle-toed Kannada actor. His 2-minute dance sequence with Shobana would remain one of the most memorable cameos in Malayalam cinema ever. The blink-and-you-missed-him scenes featuring him earlier in the film actually did good for the surprise he offered as Ramanathan. ( reportedly, the role of Mahadevan/ Ramanathan had been offered to Vineeth who couldn't spare his dates for Manichitrathazhu. Director Fasil made good by casting Vineeth in the Tamil and HIndi remakes of the film).

When I look back at Fasil movies, I could gather that relationships also have found a place of pride in all Fasil Movies. There's always a loving mother/ doting husband/ kindly uncle/ grandparent ... to render the Feel Good Factor. Think Nokketha doorathu Kannumnttu, Poovinnu Puthiya Poonthennal, Ente Suryaputhrikku, Pappayudey Swantham Appoose, Manivathorriley Aayiram Sivarathrikal ... All these films- coincidentally- had a common, ( grand) parent- child equation as the central plot. Unconditional love also runs like a common thread in Fazils' tales. Take Manichitrathazhu again. A cured Ganga expresses her inability to reciprocate for the reserves of Nakulan's unconditional love for her. The message is simple: Love does work wonders. But when a maverick story- teller like Fasil tells us so, we don't really complain, do we?

But then, I don't want to eulogise him as the Best Malayalam Film Director either. Not even my all-time favourite. He's good. Clever. He knows some tricks. But he doesn't strike gold always. I think Fasil strives to be a trend-setter of sorts. He's a tad zany ( Vismayathumbathu), unconventional, relooking at relationships (themes like Kaanamarayathu, Manathey Vellitheru, Aniyathipravu... ); flamboyant : the protagonists always hail from affluent families, sport designer clothes and accessories ( Shobana's cut-piece Churidaars and chic sarees, Mohanlal's shirts n tees in 'Manichitrathazhu'; Clotheshorse Mammootty's flashy suits and shirts in '..Appoose' Amala's youthful midis in 'Ente Sooryaputhrikku', Juhi's Yash Chopra-like lace-bordered Sarees in 'Harikrishnans', Shalini- Kunchako Boban's clothes in 'Aniyathipravu.'....) even overdoing it at times ( 'Manathey Vellitheru'- on the excuse that the heroine is a pop artist?)

Well, I could go on and on, but then it's time for inviting comments and criticisms upon what I believe is one of the best Malayalam movies ever made- over to you, readers!