This is dedicated to Binu Pappu. 
The camera jump cuts and zooms in on to a face with blood-shot eyes mostly hidden behind a disobedient ‘Subedar’ moustache, there is absolute silence on the soundtrack for a split second that feels longer, as if the camera is waiting for the seasoned actor, live. In the next moment, the hall explodes in laughter as the acerbic lashing starts in earnest with ceremonial honors, “Ksheenicho mvaaneeeeeyyy“? Continue reading
This is just an image, NOT the movie !
If only the Sultan wrote more Screenplays than short-stories and novellas. If only. This has to be one of the rare horror films in the history of cinema which is an absolute delight to watch with a half-smile on your lips. It is a movie that carries you away with its simplicity in narration ( yet regally eloquent if you think about it). Bhargavi Nilayam (Bhargavi’s Mansion), produced by PK Pareekkutty‘s Chandrathara Productions, was the debut directorial venture of the legendary cinematographer A Vincent, and had the screenplay written by the one and only Sultan of Beypore, Vaikom Muhammed Basheer. Shobhana Parameshwaran Nair, fondly recalls the journey they took to meet Vaikom Muhammed Basheer and coerce him to write a screenplay for them in the seminal documentary, Cinemayudey Kaalpadkual (more on that later!). Continue reading
The characters from Kuttyedathi (1971) is very much like his creations from MT’s earlier works – you can almost recall one from where the place you came from, regardless of which part of Kerala you hail from, and yet, every single one has an indefinable, distinct identity. There is also one interesting fact that I noticed with the movie – Kuttyedathi(1971) has to be the only movie where almost all of the creative heavyweights of the Kozhikode Theater circuit came together in a project ! P Santha Devi, Kuttyedathi Vilasini, Philomena, Nilambur Balan, Balan K Nair, Kuthiravattam Pappu - cameo or a leading, they ensured the characters came alive on screen for you. It was almost as if the character was destined to be there, at that part of our protagonist’s life to make events happen. {Crazy, I know, but then again, its just my perspective }. Continue reading
Kuthiravattam Pappu was a magician on screen.
He was always the painfully – hilarious, empathetic yet incalculably shrewd money-lender (Mithunam), or the considerate pimp ( Avaludey Raavukal), or the sleazy, slimy small-time real-estate agent (Vietnam Colony) or the explosive, pompous to the point of stupid, garrulous ‘Club Secretary ‘ in Mazha Peyyunnu, Maddalam Kottunnu, he had so much going on for you onscreen that you followed him almost breathlessly onscreen. He made you feel content ( I know, its a little bizarre, but it was the case for me) as he went about his business, making you well up, mostly with inconsolable laughter, but at some significant junctures with tears too. Kuthiravattam Pappu, you see , could make himself disappear while being present at the same time. Continue reading
