கமலஹாசனிடம் உள்ள குறைபாடுகள் என்ன? பின் விளைவுகளைப் பற்றி
கவனமில்லாமல் பேசுவது. மற்றவர்கள் மனதை புண்படுத்துறோம்னு தெரியாமலே
பேசிவிடுவது.
நாயகன் படம் வந்து மிகப்பெரிய வெற்றியடைந்து வரலாறு படைத்து 25 வருடங்கள் ஆன பிறகு, அதை எல்லாருமா கொண்டாடாமல், இப்படி செஞ்சுபுட்டீங்களே, கமல் சார்?
முன்னால எல்லாம் கமலஹாசர் இதுபோல பேட்டி கொடுக்கும்போது கன்னாபின்னானு எனக்குக் கோபம் வரும் . இப்போ இவரைப் பார்த்தால் பரிதாபமாகத்தான் இருக்கு. ஏன் இப்படியெல்லாம் சொல்லி தன் பேரைக் கெடுத்துக் கொள்கிறார் என்று?
கீழே இருக்கிறது கமலஹாசன் ஆங்கிலத்தில் "கதை"த்தது
Exactly 25 years ago, the groundbreaking Nayakan was released. It has
since been voted one of Time magazine’s top 100 films, but all that the
people working on it then wanted was ‘to be different’.
Whether it’s the story of Caesar or Gandhi or the Rotary Club, it starts
off as something very small, without the respect it deserves. Nayakan was no exception. We never thought it would be selected as one of Time magazine’s 100 greatest films of all time, or that people will remember it after 25 years. We just wanted to be different.
Perhaps due to my insecurity about dropping out of school, I’ve always
surrounded myself with writers and thinkers, and one such person I met
was Subramaniam, whom friends called Subbu and who eventually became
Mani Ratnam. He was introduced to me by Kitty (Raja Krishnamurthy).
Kitty was the manager at Chola Sheraton. We used to call him “Chola”
Krishnamurthy. Mani, then as now, was a quiet man, and Kitty used to
explain Mani’s ideas. Slowly I started liking the silent man more— not
that I liked Kitty less, but I thought this guy was deep. Only after he
signed up for Nayakan did I realise that he was the son of ‘Venus’
Ratnam Iyer, with a deep-rooted connection to Tamil cinema. I
knew he was GV’s (the financier G. Venkateswaran) brother, but the Venus
connection never struck me and he never threw this fact at my face.
This was the time I was writing Raajapaarvai, which came out in 1980. Mani wanted to know about the nuances of screenwriting. He used to love a Joseph Hayes novel called The Long Dark Night.
He said he wanted to write something like that. We kept discussing
various stories. We were all fans of Francis Ford Coppola and The Godfather.
We kept saying how long could Tamil cinema keep showing the underworld
as people with checked shirts and a kerchief knotted around the neck and
laughing like the old villain P.S. Veerappa.
Then Mani said he was doing his first film in Kannada, Pallavi Anupallavi. I was busy with Raajapaarvai, and I was also getting into Hindi films, so I couldn’t do this film. But we kept meeting and talking. After making Vikram,
in 1986, I realised I should have asked Mani to direct it. It was his
cup of tea. He asked me what had happened, because the story was so
different from what I’d told him. I told him that this was bound to
happen. I said, “The intelligence of (the writer) Sujatha and Kamal
Haasan was bound to be diluted by Kodambakkam. It will happen to you
too.”
A little later, the producer-director Muktha Srinivasan, with whom I’d made films like Simla Special,
said he wanted to make another film with me. I suggested Mani Ratnam’s
name. He was amused because the hero usually suggests the name of the
heroine in the film, and here I was recommending a director.
Mani told me two stories. One was a gangster story. He said it was based
in Bombay. I said that was the way to go, because the film, then, would
have a national reach. Muktha Films had a reputation for being
tight-fisted. When Mr. Srinivasan heard that we wanted to shoot in
Bombay, he wasn’t happy. He just wanted us to make a film — any film —
that would net him a profit of Rs. 5 lakh. That is how he was used to
working. Films were a business. He wasn’t interested in films as art.
But we said we’d shoot only part of the film in Bombay, and he
half-heartedly agreed. Then, we wanted an international look for the
action scenes. Unlike Tamil films of the time, Mani had marked out a
separate budget for the action, around Rs. 12 lakh. We flew down Jim
Allen, the action director and cinematographer, from England. He’d
worked out the stunts for films like Sholay. But Mr. Srinivasan
packed him off after three days, saying he couldn’t afford him. “We
can’t keep spending like this,” he told me. “I think Hindi films have
spoilt you.”
But in the three days he was here, he gave Mani and P.C. Sreeram (the
cinematographer) many ideas. As he spoke, they actually took down notes
about how to topple a car and how to show a bullet leaving a head and
how you can shift focus and make a stunt look more effective. When Jim
left, I was totally down. Mani doesn’t show his emotions. But I decided
to use the props I’d got for other films, like polystyrene bottles that I
could bring down and break on Inspector Kelkar’s head. We had gone into
such details.
There was no budget for makeup, so I spoke to my guru, Michael Westmore.
I’ve trained under him, and we worked together for the first time on Oru Kaidhiyin Diary.
I learnt how to apply old-age makeup myself in front of a magnifying
mirror, with just an assistant standing by with a fan to dry layer after
layer of wrinkled-latex on my face. There was no budget for the
costumes, so Sarika moved in.
At some point, I decided that to get into the character, I need ittar (floral perfume). I think I may have been getting ahead of myself. Sarika couldn’t find ittar,
and I was getting angry because I was multitasking on this movie —
doing makeup for myself, for others, getting props, even cutting the
hair of the extras — and I was upset that she couldn’t find something as
simple as ittar. Finally, she concocted something and made me believe it was ittar. I was very satisfied. I felt like the character and I knew I could perform well.
Mani had seen me play an old man in Kadal Meengal, Sagara Sangamam and Swathi Muthyam.
He said he didn’t want me to look like that, with a wig. I said that,
in that case, we’d have to shoot the film in sequence, and I’d have to
pluck out my hair towards the end. Simply shaving off the hair wasn’t
enough, as the shadow would show. It wouldn’t look like a real bald
spot. We decided to make the character prognathic, so I brought in the
dentist who’d fashioned my teeth for my role in Kalyanaraman. He made a piece to make my jaw bigger.
All of this was happening without fanfare. We could sense that we were
hot on the trail of something good. We — Mani, myself, Sreeram, Thotta
Tharrani (the art director whom I’d introduced in Raajapaarvai) —
were all collaborating as a team. This wasn’t about showing up only as
per the call sheet. As we weren’t allowed to shoot to the extent we
wanted in Bombay, Tharrani built the Dharavi set in Madras. When we went
to Bombay finally, we shot a few scenes in the real Dharavi — cutaways
like me chasing the inspector.
The film was shaping up very well and I was very happy. I was bragging
to everyone about what a good film we were making. One day, I was ready
to play the scene where Velu Nayakan reacts to his son’s death. We
rehearsed the scene. I told Mani I wanted some build up. I thought the
junior artists should react to the death first, which would help the
funeral pallor to set in. And by the time I came to the corpse, the
grief would have seeped into me. I would be in gear to play the scene.
But when the time came, Mani was standing there glumly, and Sreeram was
sitting with his head in his hands. I thought there was a technical
glitch. I said, “What is the problem? I’m ready. Let’s go.” He showed me
a small note from the producer saying that the day’s quota of film
stock had been used up, and they had to wait till he sanctioned new
stock. This was the producer’s way of making sure we shot responsibly,
without going overboard with takes. I was livid. I called my office and
asked them to bring the film stock they had in 20 minutes, and in those
20 minutes I was ready to cry. I really felt like my child was dying
that day. So the producer probably helped my performance in the film.
He was also indirectly responsible for the scene where the man is garrotted in the car, which is just like The Godfather. I was helping out with the action scenes, and I had written this scenario that I later used in my Thevar Magan,
where a truck, with a cargo of steel rods jutting out, reverses and
rams into this car and kills him. But Mr. Srinivasan wouldn’t allow a
car to be demolished; so we were forced to use the scene from The Godfather.
He wasn’t a bad man. He was just from an older school. And he did help
at times. I must give him his due. The scene where Velu’s future wife
studies for her exams in the brothel was suggested by him.
Mani was not happy with the climax. I was not happy with it. By the
time, I was tired. I wanted to get this film done. When we were in
Bombay, we spoke to Varada Bhai (Varadaraja Mudaliar on whose life the
film is based), and Mani had the audacity to ask him, “How do you
foresee your death?” He said he would either die peacefully in a
hospital (which is what happened) but left to the police, who couldn’t
prove anything against him, they would bring him out of court and
someone would slap him. This would cause a riot and they would then
shoot him. This sparked the climax in Mani’s head.
The way Kelkar’s death was filmed (and later, the death of Velu
Nayakan’s son), I knew Mani was making a really good movie. And also the
kind of movie that we all dreamt of making. During the Holi sequence, I
told Mani that Velu Nayakan should not dance. And Mani agreed. No
director at that time would have agreed to this. Earlier in my career, I
told Bharathiraja that the psychopathic killer in Sigappu Rojakkal should not be singing and dancing. But he deflected my objections saying that the song (Ninaivo oru paravai)
was a dream song, shot from the heroine’s point of view. At least that
made sense. But other times, people simply wouldn’t listen to me, and
here Mani simply said, “Of course Velu Nayakan doesn’t dance.”
We stumbled a lot while making this film. But Mani just got up and
dusted himself off and went on to the next thing. He kept his cool. He
was tethered throughout the shoot. He withstood storms. And he was not
afraid to surround himself with strong contributors like the writer
Balakumaran, whose ease with the local syntax and dialect helped to
compensate for Mani’s urbanity. There were no egos on the set. Mani
would shoot down ideas. He would also accept ideas. When Velu is taken
to a brothel in a song sequence, I expressed my exasperation by rolling
my eyes. Mani told me that this was a very Western thing, and asked if I
could give a more Indian expression. That was a very happy day for me.
Suddenly I had someone who noticed these small things that make up a
performance.
Nayakan was one of the films — along with the films I’ve done
with Balu Mahendra, K. Vishwanath and, of course, my guru K. Balachander
— that made me decide that I should not be doing short-lived masala movies
anymore. Except nostalgia, they added nothing to my career. I was fed
up. I was nearing middle-age. I thought, “If I don’t do this now, then
when will I do it?” After wrapping the film, I was so happy that I took
Sarika and went for a walk around the empty set. I remember just sitting
there with a satisfied sigh.
There was a screening of the film at Savera hotel. One of the viewers
was so moved that he fell at the producer’s feet. I urged Mani to go and
talk to people but he just walked away saying that there was no glory
in this. He was right. I told the producer that he was going to get
awards. He said he hadn’t made the film to get awards, merely to make
profits. And he was nervous about the film’s dark lighting and so on. He
complained that I had spoilt his chances of making a profit, which is
when I offered to buy the film from him. Later, GV bought the film. And
after the film came out, what the producer feared became a fashion.
Every Tamil film began to have under lit sequences. And the heroes began
to gel their hair.
When it was time for the film’s silver-jubilee celebrations, Mr.
Srinivasan’s brother passed away.We cancelled our celebration after all
had gathered at the venue. The entire crew took garlands and went to his
home and paid homage to the departed soul. So there was no rancour with
Mr. Srinivasan. We were all like family. There was just frustration.
Had the producer been more cooperative and had he had more vision, Mani
would have ensured that the film came out better. He would have also
been a healthier man. His heart attack might have happened at a later
stage. Mani was worn out by all the extracurricular activities, which
are not part of filmmaking. I am always asked when Mani and I will work
together again. I don’t know if we can summon up that same feeling of
doing a film for the pleasure. Now there’s too much pressure. And I
don’t blame Mani. He’s been so tormented by producers that now he wants
to make films exactly the way he wants. And if I would be an impediment,
he would be right in removing me.
ஏன் இப்படி வம்பை விலைகொடுத்து வாங்கிக்கிறார், கமல்?.
ஏன் இப்படி பலரையும் அவமானப் படுத்துவதுபோல் பேசி, தன் பேரைக் கெடுத்துக் கொள்கிறார்?
முக்தா சீனிவாசன் எதிர்வினை எழுதும் முன்பே பலரும் அவருக்கு ஆதரவாக எதிர் கருத்து சொல்லிவிட்டார்கள்.
முக்தா சீனிவாசன் வந்து, பொறுப்புடன் இதற்கு எதிர்வினை கொடுத்துள்ளார்!
Muktha V. Srinivasan, the producer of Nayakan , responds to Kamal
Haasan’s recollections about the movie published in the article ‘Of
course, Velu Nayakan doesn’t dance’ (Magazine, October 21)
Initially I wanted to make a movie inspired by the story of
The Godfather
. I had narrated the story to my friend Sivaji Ganesan, who agreed to
act in the film. I also requested Kamal Haasan and Amala to act in this
movie. I paid an advance and confirmed their dates. This was reported in
the press. However Ananthu, then an associate of Kamal Haasan, felt
that it would be a Sivaji- focused film and not a Kamal Haasan movie.
The project was dropped. Kamal later told me about Mani Ratnam. Mani
narrated a story based on the life of a don from Bombay. He also had
written the screenplay, which was very good. The scenes and dialogues
were realistic and I liked it. Mani told us that he would complete the
shooting in 60 days and he would need 70 rolls of film. The salary for
Kamal Haasan was Rs. 17, 50,000. And the budget for the film was
estimated at Rs. 60 lakh. Yes, it was a big budget. However it became
“over-budget”, with expenses crossing Rs. 1 crore – almost twice the
original estimate.
Shooting commenced in November
1986 and the first schedule lasted 10 days. All the scenes that were
shot were scrapped since Kamal Haasan did not like them. The screenplay
had to be rewritten. Shooting was postponed. The new screenplay had lot
of violence and I was shocked as it was a copy of
The Godfather
and
Once Upon a Time in America
. I told Mani that a good writer and director should get inspiration
from life, and not copy from other films. I objected to the story as it
would not attract a family audience. So I created a heroine character
(the wife of Kamal Haasan) and introduced Saranya. Had Mani not listened
to Kamal and gone with the original script, it would have been an
outstanding movie.
Kamal Haasan wanted the film to be
shot at Dharavi in Bombay, which was the largest and most congested
slum in Asia. I did not want to shoot the entire movie in Bombay – but
not because I was “tightfisted,” as Kamal claims. I was always
interested in shooting in different locations. Though it was not very
easy to shoot outside studios, those days, I had shot in Kashmir, Nepal,
Shimla and the Andamans. But when I visited Dharavi, I found that it
was not possible to shoot there, since it was thickly populated. Also, I
was concerned about the security of the crew. Using photographs of the
slum, art director Thota Tharani created the set at Venus studios,
Chennai, which turned out three times more expensive than it would have
been had we shot at Dharavi. We had to hire thousands of junior artists
to create that atmosphere. The remaining portion was shot at Bombay.
The
movie was completed and released in October 1987. After 25 years Kamal
Haasan has suddenly chosen to talk about it, distorting the facts for
reasons best known to him, and undermining the contributions made by
everyone.
When Mani Ratnam narrated the story, he
told me that he wanted to make a realistic film with real characters,
which meant no makeup and the use of Tamil attire like the
dhoti
and
lungi
. He was not interested in bringing in either a Hollywood stuntman or a
makeup man. I felt that Velu Naicker did not need a “Hollywood” makeup
man and costumer. In fact it was Kamal Haasan’s idea to bring such
people in. Our company had a makeup man and costumers who were all paid
by me. To state that there was no budget for makeup and costumes is
absurd.
As far as using international artist Jim
Allen, he was charging a huge amount (almost Rs. 2,00,000 per day), that
too in dollars, which was not feasible in those days. I could not
concede to this request, since it meant engaging in illegal and
unethical hawala transactions. Moreover, the stunts that Mr. Allen
suggested were already in vogue. Mani would have come up with a better
scene had Kamal not insisted on copying from
The Godfather
. All the props which were used in the movie were paid for by me. As far as
ittar
is concerned Kamal Haasan never asked me for it. Had I known, I would
have bought it myself, since it is available even in Pondy bazaar.
Before
going into a shooting schedule, I had always ensured that the all the
film rolls needed for the schedule were made available so that the
shooting could go on without interruption. Mani asked for 15 rolls of
film for 10 days of shooting. On the evening of the seventh day, Mani’s
assistant director Govindarajan asked for an extra roll, since they had
exposed all the 15 rolls. Since the Kodak company opened only in the
morning, Kamal Haasan gave the film rolls that he had purchased for his
earlier movie. I paid him for these rolls. However, P.C. Sreeram did not
use it, as it was old stock.
After the completion of
shooting Kamal Haasan and Mani Ratnam had a press meet, where they made
a statement that the movie was based on Varadaraja Mudaliar’s life.
After this, the censor board at Chennai refused to permit the release of
the movie, since it was based on a living person. I appealed to the
revising committee at Bombay. They said that they would permit us to
release the film if I got a letter stating that it was not based on
Varadaraja Mudaliar’s life. I asked Kamal Haasan to help me. He simply
refused, stating that he was busy shooting another movie. Hence, with
great difficulty, I contacted Mathiolli Shanmugam, a writer and good
friend of mine, and through him met Varadaraja Mudaliar, who gave us a
letter. Only then did the Censor appellate board at Bombay permit us to
release the film. To call the movie his “baby” and not be bothered about
its release is a reflection on Kamal Haasan’s ‘sincerity’.
A
good artist is one who gets inspired from a movie. The scene where
Kamal Haasan cries on seeing the dead body of his son is copied from
The Godfather
, and he imitates Marlon Brando. This scene was booed by the audience,
because it never fit the character and lacked nativity. When the film
was completed and the first print was shown to me, the film ran for 3
hours. Both Kamal and Mani wanted me to release the film as it was,
whereas I knew that the audience would never sit through the movie. I
told the editor Lenin to edit several unnecessary scenes. This gave life
to the movie, along with the theme music
Thenpandi seemayilae
. Had it not been for Ilayaraja and Lenin, the movie would have flopped.
Hi-speed negative film was introduced in India in 1985-86, and all cinematographers began to shoot in low light. Even our movie
Kodai Mazhai
, which came out before
Nayakan
, was shot in low light. When we screened the movie in theatres, the
projector operators expressed reservations since they had to use extra
carbon, which was very expensive. That was the reason I expressed my
apprehension. I consulted colourist Narayanan of Gemini Lab who assured
me that he would increase the brightness while printing and we had no
problem while screening the film in theatres. They are the unsung heroes
who were part of the success story.
To generate and
invest Rs. 1 crore in a Tamil movie in 1986 and market and release it
without any problem was a huge task. As a senior producer, I was always
interested in seeing that the distributors who bought the movie made
profits. Making a movie is a team effort. The producer takes the entire
risk and his contribution cannot be undermined. G. Venkateswaran bought
negative rights only after I sold all the areas. But he insisted that he
would put his name as producer and receive the awards the movie got. I
had to agree since I had suffered a loss even after selling all the
areas. But the greatest loss was when my brother died and after that I
chose not to talk about the movie. I do not know why Kamal Haasan has
chosen to talk about the film now. Calling a filmmaker as “old school”
is, I think, outdated.
I have always considered film
as an art. I have been a producer and director for more than 60 years.
Without passion for cinema, I could not have made more than 40 films
with great stars like Sivaji Ganesan, Gemini Ganesan, Rajinikanth and
Jayalalithaa. I have a reputation for producing good movies and believe
that audience deserves quality films. But it is difficult to conceive,
produce and release big budget movies. Shooting small budget films with
Digital Cameras is easy. Filmmaking is also a business and everybody
works to make money. Kamal Haasan did not act in my movie for free. He
was paid a huge sum, amounting to almost 20 per cent of the original
budget. Expecting Rs. 5 lakh as profit is not avaricious.
Nayakan
was purely a commercial film, and even Kamal Haasan knew this. The tragedy is that I did not make any profit.
Had
Kamal Haasan allowed Mani to make the movie originally conceived by
him, it would have been his best movie. As for the reference to Mani
Ratnam’s deteriorating health, he was very healthy when he completed
Nayakan
. It was only when he became a producer that his health started deteriorating, which is not unusual.
I have nothing against Kamal Haasan taking credit for the success of
Nayakan
. But not at my cost, please.
I have nothing against Kamal Haasan taking credit for
the success of
Nayakan
. But not at my cost, please.
muktha v. Srinivasan
* கமல், காட் ஃபாதரை அப்பட்டமாக காப்பியடித்து, "மார்லன் பிராண்டோ அழுவதுபோலவே அழுது" அந்த சீன்ல "நேட்டிவிட்டி" இல்லாமல் ஆக்கிப்புட்டார்னு சொல்லி கமல் மானத்தை வாங்கிவிட்டார், முக்தா!
* மகனை இழந்தபோது கமல் அழும்விதம் இந்தியர்கள் அழுவதுபோல் இல்லையே என்று நம்மில் பலரும் குழம்பி பிறகு காட் ஃபாதர் பார்த்தவுடன், அதிலிருந்துதான் இந்த "அழுகையை" மணியோ, கமலோ அள்ளிட்டு வந்திருக்காங்கனு பலரும் உறுதி செய்ததை, இப்போ முக்தா சொல்வதால், அவர் பக்கம் உண்மை இருப்பதுபோல்தான் தெரிகிறது.
ஆக, நாயகனால் முக்தா சீனிவாசன் எதுவும் பெரிதாக சம்பாரித்ததுபோல் தெரியவில்லை. அவர் எப்போதுமே சின்ன பட்ஜட் பட்மதான் எடுப்பார். எ வி எம் போல் பெரிய பட்ஜெட் படமெல்லாம் அவர் ஒருபோதும் தயாரிப்பதில்லை.
* சிவாஜியை வைத்து எடுத்த படங்கள் எதுவும் பெரிய வெற்றியில்லை!
* ரஜினியை வைத்து எடுத்த
பொல்லாதவன் ஓரளவுக்கு வெற்றிப்படம் எனலாம்.
சிகப்பு சூரியன்? போட்ட காசை எடுத்து இருக்கலாம் என நம்புகிறேன். கொஞ்சம் காசை விட்டும் இருக்கலாம்.
* கமலை வைத்து எடுத்த
சிம்லா ஸ்பெஷல், தோல்விப்படமே!
* பாவம்,
நாயகனிலும் இவர் சம்பாரித்த மாரித் தெரியவில்லை. :( இதெல்லாம் கமலுக்குத் தெரியாதா? இல்லை அடுத்தவர் மனநிலையைக் கொஞ்சம்கூட கமல் யோசிப்பதே இல்லையா??
உலகப் புகழ் பெற்ற
நாயகன் தயாரிப்பாளர் நிலைமை இப்படிப் பொலம்பிக்கொண்டு இருக்க. அதே தேதியில் ரிலீஸ் ஆன்
எஸ் பி எம் இயக்கி வந்த ரஜினியின் மசாலாப்படம் மனிதன் எ வி எம் நிறுவனத்திற்கு மிகப்பெரிய இலாபத்தைப் பெற்றுத் தந்தது!
ஒரு தயாரிப்பாளரை பொருத்தவரையில் அவர்களுக்குத் தேவை பணம், இலாபம்! புகழ் கெடையாது. நாயகன் வெற்றியைப் பொருத்தவரையில் கமலும், மணியும்தான் இதில் ஆதாயம் அடைந்தவர்கள். புகழைத் தட்டிச் சென்றவர்கள். முக்தாவுக்கு எந்த லாபமும் கிடைக்கவில்லை. அது போதாதுனு இப்போ கமல் அவர் முகத்தில் சேற்றை அள்ளி எறிகிறார்.
அந்த வகையில் நஷ்டமடைந்த முக்தாவின் எதிர்வினை மிகவும் தேவையானது. வரவேற்கத்தக்கது என்று அவரை நான் பாராட்டுக்கிறேன்.
ஆமாங்க, இதுவும் ஒரு மீள் பதிவே!
