Despite all the hype and hoopla surrounding its release, there is at the heart of Dasavatharam a lack of credibility that can only be ascribed to the main actor’s almost insatiable need to place himself at the centre of almost every frame. At times there are two and three Haasans in a frame, since it is for his multiple roles that the film is being acclaimed. Like Raj Kapoor in Mera Naam Joker, the desire for an ageing star to cheat time on celluloid by being the winsome charmer who can woo the women and whack the stuffing out of the villains while spouting all the best lines, Kamal Hassan is in many ways incredible. We have to add, for his age. Let us be charitable and confess that maybe it has nothing to do with age either. It’s just that the time for such mega-film offerings has passed. This is a Cecil B. DeMille extravaganza in Tamil clothing.

The opening sequence underlines the theme of ancient Tamil glory with a visually heightened episode set in the 12th century when the Chola dynasty was at its height. It deals with the Shivaite faction (or followers of Shiva) led by King Kullothunga, a real historical figure, who seeks to quell the Vaishnavite (or followers of Vishnu) group represented by a priest, Ranganatha Nambi (Haasan). The priest single-handedly resists the might of the state when he tries to protect the recumbent idol of Vishnu asleep on his serpent bed from being dragged by all the king’s horses and all the king’s men and dumped deep into the ocean bed.
Since the rest of the film is set in the 21st century with homage being paid to several action hero films, such as Die Hard and Rambo with Haasan playing a Bond baddie in a blonde wig and Mallika Sherawat as an evil temptress who acts as his interpretor in Tamil Nadu, until she’s impaled on a stake in Omen-like fashion, it’s difficult to understand the need to start in the 12th century. A butterfly prettily links all the loose ends to remind you that yes, it’s also a reference to that butterfly fluttering in the Amazon jungle setting loose the forces of nature.

This is where you begin to realise that it’s probably very essential to the Tamil audience. It’s authentic seen from the perspective of Tamil culture, which again explains why a Tamil speaking audience can get so prickly if you dare question it. The Shiva-Vishnu duality is something that can morph easily into an America-versus-the-rest-of-the-world one, or as someone in the audience remarked, into a Brahmin-versus non-Brahmin one for today’s audiences. The passion with which Haasan defends his beliefs as a priest of Vishnu (wailing wife, adorable son, elderly grandfather and a thousand priests chanting for his life in the background) is part of the mythology of Tamil male glory. This is what every true Tamilian must be prepared to do – sacrifice his life for something larger than himself.

In the movie, the denouement that comes at the very end is indeed large and I have to admit the image of the Tsunami that sweeps across the screen was enough to make even a sceptic like me cheer along with the rest of the crowd. More than that, what was interesting was to see how the Tsunami has been translated into a part of Tamil mythology. It reaches back into history and thereby provides an answer to the first question: why a return to the 12th century? In the film, the Tsunami seems only to affect the Tamil Nadu coastline, there’s no reference to other societies and cultures that it destroyed, again a good illustration of how hermetically closed we in India – it’s not just the Tamils – view ourselves.

Going back to the film, every time a new avatar of Hassan appeared, a frisson of excitement went through the audience. Of all the gimmicks, perhaps this is the most questionable. For while it’s true that some of the disguises were indeed admirable as, for instance, the one of Avatar Singh, the Sikh bhangra-rock star and the 90-year-old Tambrahm widow, Krishnveni Patti, the Japanese Kung-Fu champion, Shingen Narahasi, the Dalit leader, Vincent Poovakaran, (the faithful believe that these are references to the 10 avatars of Vishnu) others such as George Bush and Fletcher the Bond villain, and the tall Muslim householder Kalifula Khan were totally absurd and could just as well have been served by different actors. The best of the impersonations was perhaps of the bumbling Clousseau-like inspector of RAW, Balaram Naidu, where Kamal Haasan displays his talent for comedy. But again, what one remembers are the originals. Balaram looks like a homage to Peter Sellers.

Besides, if we are to talk about great actors and their disguises, who can forget Lon Chaney, the man with a thousand faces? When he donned make-up for The Hunchback Of Notre Dame, or The Phantom Of The Opera, what came through was the humanity of the person behind the paint. What comes through in a Kamal Haasan impersonation is only a Jack Horner type of little boy who sits in his corner sticking his finger into the Tamil curd rice and claiming “What a smart boy am I!”