Chidambaram’s Manjummel Boys, starring Soubin Shahir and Sreenath Bhasi in the lead roles, is now running in theatres. (Image: Manjummel Boys/Instagram)
While watching Malayalam cinema’s biggest blockbuster recently, Majummel Boys, I found myself wondering if I had seen these faces before in contemporary mainstream Indian cinema. The same question has plagued me in the past too while watching a series of other new-wave Malayalam films — Sudani from Nigeria, Virus, Nanpakal Nerathu Mayakkam, Unda, Aattam, amongst many others. An undeniable strength of this new crop of Malayalam films is the variety of faces we have seen on the screen in recent times. Perhaps this could also help explain their popularity and immediate relatability that cuts across language and geographical boundaries, leading to resounding success on OTT platforms and the creation of a new viewership for Malayalam films.
Ask any film viewer today and they would have seen one or more than the handful of films that I have mentioned above. Consider another recent Malayalam blockbuster, Premalu. The story is most conventional but what keeps you hooked through the duration of the film are the faces, including those of the lead pair. They make the story believable. You feel this can happen to anyone and the character is being played by an actor who looks like you or someone you may know. I am not certain how many realise it but this is a huge declaration that one doesn’t have to look a certain way to be an actor. There are no standards, no pre-designed or determined benchmark.
Why should a face or look be typified for an actor or cohort of roles? Why shouldn’t there be a diversity of faces who can surprise the audiences with their prowess? This also makes cinema more egalitarian. For a long time, in mainstream Hindi cinema, there were a handful of supporting actors who played second fiddle to the male or female lead of the film. They eventually got typecast. Roles were not written for them but they were made to fit into brackets, such as the hero or heroine’s best friend, uncle or aunt or the family buffoon-type. How would you remember an actor like Rajpal Yadav, for example? It’s not that things haven’t changed at all. There is an audition system in place. Hindi films and OTT are looking for different faces but those are guided by a formula too. Malayalam cinema is a different story altogether.
Think of a mainstream Malayalam star like Fahadh Faasil who is unparalleled across Indian cinema not only because of his selection of roles but what he brings to his characters every time he shows up on screen. His trajectory is unique or demands comparison only with the finest actors in the world. In his latest Aavesham, he plays a local gangster. You laugh with him and at his actions but there are also instances when his gestures send a shiver down your spine, especially when you are completely unprepared for such a thing to happen. He is an actor who constantly catches you off guard and takes you through a range of emotions. Think about his performances in Kumbalangi Nights or Joji. Fahadh Faasil is not only experimenting across a wide spectrum of roles but also with his looks in cinema. There is an attempt to constantly break an image and create something totally fresh and original. If there is any model to follow, perhaps this is the one.
What if Majummel Boys is remade in Hindi? Can you imagine Hrithik Roshan playing Soubin Shahir’s role? It will be a parody, if not worse. The point is that films are bound to a context. Stories have a location. Stories do travel but then to make those stories adaptable, one must think about a lot of associated factors such as the casting for the film. Cinema ought not to be star-driven but character/actor-driven. How long will it take for such a system to be in place? Malayalam cinema has certainly given us a template to follow. The star system may still be dominant but there’s an alternative too.
The writer teaches literature and film at FLAME University, Pune
