The Tamil Nadu assembly election
results are due in May. That seemed like
a good enough excuse – not that I need one! – to revisit the best political
film ever made in Tamil Cinema, Manivannan’s Amaidhi Padai
(1994). There have been strong
contenders like Mudhalvan and Makkal Aatchi. But Amaidhi Padai remains the pinnacle. The film is an amazing
blend of trenchant wit and solid drama.
The laughs, the tears, the thrills and the chills are all woven
seamlessly into an astonishingly fluid narrative.
As opposed to my other reviews, I have chosen to analyze this movie in
more detail. So, please stay with me
through this attempt at a detailed dissection of an important film.
Manivannan was going through a rather
lean patch in the early 90s. Though
there were the occasional marginal successes like Therku Theru Matchan,
Manivannan’s films were a pale shadow of some of the powerful dramas that he
made in the 80s. I attribute it to two
reasons. One was that Sathyaraj had
become a bona fide hero. So, Manivannan
could write neither character roles for him nor villainous parts. And there were very few other actors that
could truly do justice to Manivannan’s direction style. Though he had made some undisputed classics
like Ini Oru Sudhandhiram (with Sivakumar in the lead), Manivannan seemed
to reserve his best for Sathyaraj and vice versa. The two of them shared an unparalleled personal
and professional chemistry. But with the
trappings of a ‘hero’, Sathyaraj had become limited in what he could offer Manivannan. And the second reason was that Ilayaraja had –
I am unsure of the reason(s) – not scored the music for any of Manivannan’s
films between the late 80s and early 90s.
Manivannan himself confessed to packing his scenes with way too many
dialogues because he felt that he did not have the luxury of impactful
background scores with other music directors.
But with Sathyaraj agreeing to play a villainous character and Raja
scoring the music, Manivannan could rely on the two big pillars that rested on
the foundation of his script, lifting the film to great heights. And thus, Amaidhi Padai was born.
The plot of Amaidhi Padai
A son sets out to avenge the cruel
injustice that his biological father had meted out to his mother. In an interview Sathyaraj once observed that
the underlying plot of Mr. Bharath and Amaidhi Padai were fundamentally
same but that the treatments were so different that one can hardly spot a similarity
between these two films.
It is as much a chalk and cheese observation like the claim that some people make around Minsara Kanna and Parasite! As mentioned earlier, Amaidhi Padai takes the
loose ‘revenge’ template but uses it just as an excuse to chart the arc of its
antagonist, right from his humble beginnings to his meteoric rise and the
The initial portions
The first 20 odd minutes of the film focus on
the son (also played by Sathyaraj) and his upcoming engagement with a sweet,
innocent girl (Ranjitha). These portions
remind one of Bhagyaraj’s antics with Sulakshana in Thooral Ninnu Poachu.
The light romance leads to the important engagement scene where
Sathyaraj is insulted for being an ‘illegitimate’ child. That, in turn, paves way for the flashback
where his grandpa explains the unfortunate circumstances surrounding his birth.
The Sathyaraj-Ranjitha romance is
not especially noteworthy. But a word about
the title song, “Vetri Varudhu.” It is a
rousing number, no doubt. But paying close
attention to the lyrics that Manivannan obtained from poet Ponnadiyan, one
instantly recognizes his socialist ideals – Enakum unakum thalaivan thondan naamada…
- and his love for his fellow Tamils. The
lines, vaethu manidhan namadhu inathai ozhikkiran…nam naatu manidhan ivanum
uyirai edukiraan…” are a terrific one-two punch.
The title song:
The transformation of Ammavasai
Arguably the film’s most vaunted
sequence is the election scene. Manivannan’s
conception of this scene is truly ingenious.
The striking visual of Sathyaraj easing into the chair (with his
steadily increasing lead over his opponent) is accompanied by a score that similarly
increases in intensity, to culminate in a majestic saxophone piece. In what is a stamp of true genius, Raja uses the
same tune with more beats and trumpets when Sathyaraj Senior is reintroduced as
the ageing MLA. The man is a lot more powerful
at that juncture and the grand, scintillating background music underscores
The handful of scenes that
portray Kasthuri falling for Sathyaraj don’t feel nearly as convincing, but the
gullibility of her character does serve its purpose in advancing a key plot
point – that of her carrying his child out of wedlock. Amidst such powerful dramatic scenes such as
the panchayat scene where Sathyaraj denies any association with Kasthuri, the ‘item’
number with Vichitra seems to be a completely unnecessary commercial
compromise, the kind of which have thankfully made their way out of Tamil
The Son Rises…So does the Father
Once the grandpa narrates the
story of his evil father, the son decides to avenge his mother’s death. While he assures his grandparents that he
will not do anything foolhardy, we do see the stage set for a battle of the son
against his father. The scene with SS Chandran
features one of my favorite lines in this film.
As he talks about the death of this daughter (during childbirth) he
says, “Naan peththa pillaya selavu kanakula ezhudhittu…ava peththa pillaya
varavu kanakula vechutu andha oora vittey kilambiten.” He could have just said, “Once my daughter
died, I just left my hometown with you, my grandson.” But it is a testament to Manivannan’s felicity
with words that such a simple scene is elevated by some sharp dialogue.
In what is another example of
economy of scenes to establish a character, Sathyaraj Senior’s feisty wife Sujatha
gets just two scenes that show us the depth of her character and her role in
the conflict in the second half. One is
the scene where a party worker asks them to name his newborn – she names the
girl child, Thaayama after the woman that her husband cheated! And the second is the short flashback scene the
night of their wedding. When Sathyaraj
threatens to chop her leg, she wryly observes, “Oru
kaalathula enge veetu watchman, ulla kaal eduthu vecha vettiduven-nu ungala
paathu sonnan. VeLeela kaal eduthu vecha
vettiduven-nu neenga enna paathu solreenge!” In scenes such as this and many others in the
second half, Sujatha shows us what a fantastic yet underutilized character actress
she could be. It is a measure of Sathyaraj’s
towering presence as the villain that it is easy to forget that it is the
Sujatha character that is a worthy adversary to him more than the character of the
The seeds of the riot are sown
The first half concludes with a
riveting scene featuring an astrologer who pays for his astrology consultation
with his own life! The foundation for
the second half is laid with the caste-based riot connived by Sathyaraj. He hatches a devious plan to distract the voting
public away from his own failings as a leader.
In what is a trope that was utilized by Shankar years later in Mudhalvan,
the self-serving politician engages in the kind of brinksmanship that would result
in huge loss of life and property to advance his own agenda. This is where the satirical element of Amaidhi
Padai shines brightly. Be it tossing off
throwaway lines such as, “Mael jaadhi naaynge…andha naaynge-ngaratha
azhuthi sollanum” or casually evoking the demolition of Babri Masjid, the
writing is in top gear in these scenes. For
a satire to truly work, the writer has to get to the depths of the target that
he has set out to skewer. Amidst all the
laughs that the director-actor duo serve us here, it is imperative to not miss
the serious issues that they bring to the fore such as the futility of caste-based
The conflicts – both personal and political – escalate
The son reenters the picture as part of the reserve police that is tasked with controlling the riots. The father – son meeting scene is a memorable one. This is a scene where father and son engage in a verbal duel, one sincerely expressing his idealism and the other brazenly verbalizing the realpolitik that he stands for. But before they start conversing, there is a stupendous background score that accompanies the visuals where the son ‘introduces’ himself to his father. Sathyaraj Senior’s expressions are delightfully nuanced, as is his shrieking, “Junior!”The father-son verbal duel:
The conflict escalates and Sathyaraj Senior decides to eliminate every obstacle in his path of political glory. As heartless a person as he is in this movie, he realizes that he is committing a grave sin by ordering his henchman to kill his own wife. There is a beautifully acted scene where Sathyaraj realizes that it will be his final goodbye to Sujatha. He knows that she doesn’t deserve to die. But he is so intoxicated with political power that he just cannot stop himself. The manner in which Sathyaraj pauses and turns towards Sujatha to see her one last time is strangely moving. It is a shade of this evil incarnate that adds a human dimension to the character. It is moments like these that should not be overlooked as we celebrate the humor and satire of Amaidhi Padai. It is as much a powerful drama with three-dimensional characters as it is a political film.
Sujatha's final scene:
For how superb the conflicts are
built up, the dénouement of Amaidhi Padai remains a crushing disappointment. Seemingly unable to decide whether he wants
to let the villain or the hero deliver the coup de grace, Manivannan wrongly opts
for the latter. I have always wondered
why the villain didn’t deliver on his earlier words that if he realizes that he
is about to fail politically, he will commit suicide. Was it because that kind of a climax would
have reminded us too strongly of Pagal Nilavu? Or, was it because Sathyaraj, still a leading
hero in Tamil Cinema, had to be the one to deliver the knockout punch to the
villain (also played by him)? Whatever
the origins of this climax are, it is just not a fitting end to this classic. But the impact of the prior 2 ½ hours is so
strong that the film has stood the test of time and continues to rightfully be
regarded as a classic.
Manivannan is no more. He died way too young. But with films like Amaidhi Padai, he
has left behind a body of work that may have had its share of misses. But when he got into his zone, there were very
few that could match his level of razor-sharp writing or surehanded direction. And with creative collaborators like Sathyaraj
and Ilayaraja, he knew exactly how to bring his vision to life. It is the sort of ‘life’ in a creation that makes its creator immortal even after he passes on.
Miss you, Manivannan Sir. My sincere thanks for Amaidhi Padai.