LENIN RAJENDRAN

Women are central in my films

Lenin Rajendran is one of the most successful filmmakers of Kerala.
His films have been all-time favourites of cine-goers. In an interview,
he talks at some length about himself and his films.

Lenin Rajendran belongs to that rare breed of filmmakers who never make compromises. Right from his first film, Venal to his latest Mazha, he has had his own ideas of filmmaking which he did not change even for commercial motives. Yet, he has proved himself to be top-notch film-maker and has been a favourite of film-lovers in Kerala. His Venal, Chillu, Meenamaasaththile Sooryan, Swaathithirunaal, Puraavriththam, Vachanam, Deivaththinte Vikruthikal, Kulam, and the recent Mazha are among the most remembered and cherished Malayalam films. It is indeed interesting to note that none of these films followed a pattern or a trend. As a filmmaker, Lenin Rajendran has even dared to experiment and has achieved astonishing results. While he had Om Puri in the lead opposite Revathi in Puraavriththam, in Swaathithirunaal, he had noted Kannada actor Anant Nag in the title role of Swaathithirunaal, the art and music-loving king of Travancore. In Deivaththinte Vikruthikal, based on the novel of the same name by noted writer M Mukundan, he had succeeded in eliciting scintillating performances from Srividya and Raghuvaran. And in his latest Mazha, an adaptation of the story Nashtapetta Neelambarikal by Madhavikutty (Kamala Das), Lenin has Biju Menon, Samyuktha Verma, Lal and Jagathy Sreekumar in altogether different roles and the result has been spectacular. Lenin Rajendran has very strong views about his films, films in general and filmmaking.

What is it that inspired you to make Mazha? Would you like to comment on the relevance of Bhadra’s story in the present context?
Bhadra, the central character of the story, is not a mere character. Look around and you’ll see a lot of Bhadras in almost every house. When a person who cherishes romantic dreams about life is brought face to face with totally contrasting and rather bitter realities, conflict is bound to arise. The past always haunts the mind.

In the film, Bhadra and her husband are passionately in love with each other. But often, things go wrong between them as they both fail to adapt themselves to the present. Bhadra confesses to her husband that she once loved somebody. “I wanted to marry him, but couldn’t. It still pains my heart,” she confesses and her confession comes as a shock to the husband. He is puzzled as to why she cannot free herself from her past and be happy as his wife only. He doesn’t care to delve into the realities behind the confession. He is controlled by the strong feeling that his wife should live as per his wishes and desires.

Bhadra, on the other hand, lives in a dream world and fails to come to terms with the realities of the present. Her romantic attachment with her village, her love for the young priest she met there, the thought that she would have been happier had she married him - all these things distance her from her husband. But she too doesn’t realise this.

And as for the relevance, I feel that this particular story has universal significance, as there were, are and would be a lot many Bhadras around us.

In Mazha, you have given considerable importance to visual beauty, as well as music. Any particular reason?
Creating a romantic atmosphere was absolutely necessary for the film. In her heart of hearts, Bhadra cherishes a love for poetry. She has many romantic thoughts about flowers, rivers and also the rain that she wishes to see and feel. And to reflect her mind and mental state effectively on the screen, visual beauty was imperative. In the second half, however, the case is somewhat different as the characters live in a totally different atmosphere, an atmosphere of abundance and richness. Here, beauty and romanticism are not that important. So, I have used the technique of light and shadow to convey the feelings. In the first half, the house is not given much importance and has been shown as part of nature. The lighting too has been done with that in mind. The house does not feature long shadows. But in the second half, there are shadows in the house. This reflects the mental states of the characters involved.

The same can be said of music, too. The songs in the first half reflect Bhadra’s romantic dreams, her happy state of mind, while in the second half the songs, mostly belonging to the genre of light music, with traces of pathos and pain in them, reflect to some extent at least the mental states of the characters and create the necessary atmosphere.

Your films mostly seem to defy trends or patterns and each of your films seems to be different from the other. What would you like to say about that?
I have always tried to bring in variety in my films. I have always made an effort to see that none of my films are similar in any way. But, of course, in the process of execution, some similarities do creep in as regards the treatment. Someone recently told me that even after making so many different films, I am still standing where I began. On doing a quick analysis, I found that this was partly true. There are some things common in all of my films. But still I try to create variety. I do not go hunting for stories with variety, it is just that I read a lot of stories and reports. And if something touches my heart and I feel like making a film of it, I go ahead. That’s what happened with Nashtapetta Neelambarikal, which I adapted for Mazha.

Do you feel that the audience, who are mostly used to formula films, would want to accept the kind of films you make?
I do wish so. I have made my films in a format that should appeal and be comprehensible to the common audience. But, of course, certain things that are seen in the usual formula films have been avoided in my films. Like in a scene in Mazha, when Bhadra’s husband dies, I chose not to show her face or reaction. I was insistent on having it that way. After seeing the film, many thought I should have done so. That may only be because they are used to seeing women crying on the screen in such scenes. I could have easily made the actress cry for the sake of the audience. I may have lost some audience for not showing her crying. But I have certain concepts and I am not ready to compromise. I thought it was better to leave the scene to one’s imagination. As a filmmaker, shouldn’t I be given the freedom to shoo a film as I wish? Why at all then should I be a filmmaker?

You have made many women-oriented films. What, in your opinion, is the status of women in our films today?
I feel in our films women are mostly used as decorative pieces. But in all my films, I have given due importance to the female characters. Even in Meenamaasathile Sooryan, a story of revolutionaries, I chose to give prominence to a female character. I feel a person chooses the path of revolution only because he is a romantic at heart. In Venal too, I had given importance to the female character, whereas Chillu was basically a women-oriented story. Puraavriththam, was the story of a woman who stood by a revolutionary all through his revolutionary outbursts. In Swaathithirunaal too, I could not avoid female characters. Especially Swaathithirunaal’s wife as well as the dancer, Sugandhavalli, who had an important place in the life of King Swaathithirunaal. So is the case with my other films too. Though it is not my conscious effort to make films with feministic subjects, it just happens that when I make a film, I can’t avoid them. For me, not seeing them means I am not seeing life. So I give due importance to the women characters in my films.

Many popular actors of the mainstream cinema have played different roles in your films. You have cast action hero Suresh Gopi in the role of the mad Bhraanthan Chaanan in Kulam and, in Mazha, you sort of stripped Biju Menon of his glamourous image. Do you do all this intentionally as a director who is opposed to the so-called star concept?
No, not at all. This is something that happens in the course of casting. The availability of the stars and the demands of characterisation are the main factors that lead to such things. As for Kulam, I had never thought of casting Suresh Gopi in the role of Bhraanthan Chaannaan. It was quite coincidental. It was Suresh Gopi himself who expressed his wish to do a role. He had read the novel Maarthaandaverma, on which the film was based, and had actually expressed his desire to play Ananthapadmanabhan. But when I told him that that role doesn’t have much importance in my film, he chose to play Bhraanthan Chaannaan. This did help me a lot in terms of the commercial aspect of the film. Same was the case with Mazha. Biju Menon was selected because he suited the role. I never deliberately cast actors defying their popular image. It just happens.

Many bold filmmakers of your type have gone into a sort of hibernation these days. Very rarely does one get to see a film like Mazha. Thus what, according to you, is the future of cinema?
Good and meaningful cinema has always had to face such crisis, not only in India but all over the world. Films are commercial products these days and are released through what are called commercial centres. It is a truism that good, meaningful films always usually seem to lack commercial viability and hence the people behind these commercial centres hesitate to take up good films for distribution. And hence the crisis.

But it is an undeniable fact that, though the gap between mainstream commercial cinema and off-beat, meaningful films has widened, good films continue to be made. This is because committed filmmakers, being sensitive artistes, cannot help being sensitive to life and the anxieties that such filmmakers undergo lead to the making of good, meaningful films which will continue for ever.

BVS Prakash