The late Roger Ebert was known for his pithy and memorable lines about the movies. One of my favorite phrases of his was from his review of Martin Scorsese’s Cape Fear. He wrote that the most personal films of Scorsese’s were “torn out of the director’s soul.” Vasanth’s Rhythm (2000) turns 25 on September 15th. That it is a sensitively written, beautifully acted and technically superlative film has been well documented over the past 25 years, including on this blog. Vasanth has made exceptional films before and after Rhythm. But as far as films that feel “torn out of the director’s soul,” Rhythm will always be that film of Vasanth’s.
Directors
have pet themes and tropes that get the best out of them. For Vasanth, the main characters of his story
acting in selfless ways, elders being treated with care and empathy, and they,
in turn, acting with much sensitivity and wisdom, are all themes that make him
shine brightest in his films. In Keladi
Kanmani (1990) SPB and Radhika decided to sacrifice their love for the sake
of SPB’s daughter. The daughter, as an
adult, seeks redemption when faced with a life-threatening illness and yearns
to reunite them. In Nee Paathi Naan Paathi (1991) Gowthami lets go of the love of her
life just so that Heera does not have to raise a child out of wedlock, an
unerasable scar that Gowthami nursed throughout her life. His other films in the 1990s did touch upon
varied subjects, some hugely impactful (such as the blockbuster Aasai),
while others not quite at the same level.
Appu, which was a remake of Sadak, was released in June
2000. In Vikatan’s review of Appu,
the critic wrote, “Appu irukkatum.
Original Vasantha raagam enge?” A
decisive answer arrived three months later.
When I
first watched Rhythm at the time of its release in September 2000, it felt like the quintessential Vasanth film, yes. But the way he brought out his pet themes, also gave me the feeling that only he could have made this film. So distinct and definite were the auteur’s
touches throughout. Vasanth
once mentioned in an interview that books find you more than you find
them. I would like to think that this
story (loosely inspired by a real-life incident) found Vasanth.
The story
of two people who lost their spouses in the same accident, deserved to be
treated with dignity and patience. The
pacing of the film is just perfect for the story that it seeks to tell. The unhurried pace allows scenes to breathe and for emotions
to register. Vasanth’s patented understated
humor is always at hand to leaven the seriousness in a manner that is pitch
perfect. There is not a single tonally
inconsistent note in this film. Take for
instance, the poignant scene at the temple, involving Arjun and his parents,
played wonderfully by Vatsala Rajagopal and Nagesh. Nagesh cracks a joke about the delivery boy
escaping unscathed in an accident. But
that seamlessly leads to a discussion about Arjun’s filial responsibilities imposing
a burden on him. Vatsala tenderly holds
Arjun’s face and asks, “engalukaaga kalyanam pannika koodaathaa?” Arjun does not utter a word in response. But the camera does not cut away from these characters
immediately. It shows Arjun helping his mother
down the steps.
The film’s
most beloved scene – the dinner table sequence – also follows the same approach
where the scene unfolds like its own short story, with a beginning, middle and
end, replete with seamless shifts of tone.
When Nagesh cracks the comment about the food (and the papad), Arjun wonders
why his mom is not enjoying the joke. That
segues into the conversation about Meena leaving town abruptly. Arjun slowly walks over to his mom, puts his
hands around her and expresses concern about her health. When the mom utters the movie’s most famous line,
the vocal in the background is ever so delicate to accentuate the scene’s impact
without overpowering it. But notice how even
here, there are no dramatic gestures.
Arjun wipes away her tears, puts on her glasses, gently pats her on her
shoulder and walks away. The little
moment in front of the bathroom mirror rounds out this scene beautifully
because we get to know of his disappointment which he withheld from his
parents.
The flashbacks in this film are a lesson in economical storytelling. We see Meena fall for Ramesh Aravind in the scenes prior to the “gala galavena…” song. After that song, we immediately get to the powerful scene where Lakshmi shows up at Meena’s house, threatening to scuttle the alliance. As the scene ends, the sounds of the nadaswaram lead us to the wedding of Meena and Ramesh Aravind. But neither flashback comes across as rushed, such is the finesse of the writing, staging and editing (Sreekar Prasad). The flashbacks too, showcase the selflessness of the characters in an utterly realistic manner. When Jyotika explains to Arjun’s friend (Ajay Ratnam) about her fears, she lists everyday things such as Arjun diving from a height into the swimming pool, to make her point. When Arjun later resigns his job for the sake of Jyotika, the playful manner in which he says, “ra-jee-naa-maa” and the stunned reaction from Jyotika are all moments when the drama plays out in the most lifelike manner, never once feeling theatrical.
Another aspect
of Rhythm that contributes to its verisimilitude is how characters move
forward the plot as opposed to events feeling manufactured out of a screenplay. The coincidental meeting of Arjun and Meena
at the bookstore in Ooty would not have meant a thing if not for Lakshmi. If you notice, Arjun bids goodbye to Meena after
a brief interaction. It is only when
Meena tells Lakshmi of the train accident does Lakshmi feel a strong urge to
invite Arjun over for a meal. And it is during
that meeting in their house does Meena open up to Arjun about her true feelings
for him. The psychological acuity of the
writing results in many such scenes feeling believable given our
knowledge of the characters that were established in the first half of the
film.
AR Rahman’s magnificent work for the film extends beyond the scintillating numbers anchored on the five forces of nature. The background score, part of which derives from the instrumentals and tunes of the songs, is outstanding. Once Meena moves to Ooty, there is a scene on the phone where she fears that Arjun may have been hurt in a bomb blast in Mumbai. If Meena’s contained expressions are masterful, the pounding drums (which are resounding, but not loud) add to the dread and anxiety experienced by Meena, and by extension, us.
25 years post its release, Rhythm has aged as gracefully as the elders in the film. The film has found a progressively widening audience thanks to television, youtube and social media. For every fan, the film speaks to them in a way that feels wholly personal, yet the appeal is universal. Vasanth has made remarkable films before and after Rhythm. But for numerous admirers of his work, Rhythm will always be the film that was not just “torn out of the director’s soul” but also the film that has touched our souls in the most enduring manner possible.
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