http://i501.photobucket.com/albums/e...ps43ba29ce.jpg
Printable View
கர்ணன் திரை காவியம் நவீனமயமாக்கி 2012இல் வெளியானபோது முதல் மூன்று வாரத்திற்குள் ஒரு கோடி ரூபாய் வசூல் சாதனை புரிந்துள்ளதாக பத்திரிகையில் வந்த செய்தி.
திரு சொக்கலிங்கம் அவர்கள் தகவல் படி கர்ணன் மொத்த வசூல் ருபாய் 6 கோடி க்கு சற்று அதிகம். அவரே 6 கோடி க்கு சற்று அதிகம் என்றால் எப்படியும் ஒரு 25 - 50 சதவிகிதம் அதிகம் வசூல் என்பது தான் உண்மை.
சத்யம் திரை அரங்கு 152 நாள் வசூல் மட்டும் சுமார் 1.25 கோடி மற்றும் ESCAPE அரங்கு 115 நாள் வசூல் சுமார் 87 லட்சத்தி 63 ஆயிரத்தி 280 ருபாய் என்பது தகவல்.
எப்படி பார்த்தாலும் நவீனமயமாக்கல் செய்து வெளியிட்ட திரைப்படங்களில் "கர்ணன்" என்றுமே முதலிடம் !
http://i501.photobucket.com/albums/e...ps480ee6ab.jpg
Dear RKS. Amazing to see the combo photo of NT with the then global superstar and the most bankable international icon Sean Connery, the definitive James Bond OO7 till this world exists. In Pudhiya Paravai, the tuxedo worn by NT and the cigarette handling style, the way he sits ... inspired from DrNo, the first James Bond movie (1962)wherein Sean Connery introduces himself with the immortal one-liner 'Bond... James Bond!' Thanks RKS for filling my heart and mind with pleasure to see both the icons side by side
Dear RKS sir,
Pictures speaks more than words especially NT & Gemini pic, NT & Sean Connery , NT as Thiruvalluavar was too good
Nice contribution
Mr RKS,
Thanks for the golden collection.
RKS sir
Thanks for your superb collections of NT photo album. worth preserving for many decades. thanks again.
Even now it is not too late. We need to explore the possibilities for getting a 'Life time achievement' award posthumously for NT with the Oscar committee under foreign actors category. This can be done only by a team work involving Sivaji Peravai and all doyens of this thread in compiling relevant information and data.Quote:
Originally Posted by RavikiranSurya
Dear Mr.R.K.S
Your posts about Karnan and various aspects about Nadigarthilagam are very good. Well done.
Mr. Ravikiran Surya,
Excellent Collections. Your efforts are simply superb.
You served them in very attractive way.
Dear RKS,
Fantastic Photographs. Great comparisons. Superb collections.
RKS,
I dont have words to express my awe??? What a presentation!!! After a while, I am really dumbfound and impressed.keep it up. Thread was losing the focus with sub-mediocre write-ups. Now it is picking up with your impressive presentation.
Dear RKS sir
Your collections are very nice. kalakkureenga as ususual
Thanks
Dear ravi kiran surya sir
thanks for your tremendous and superb collections and comparison
very happy to see all
An Application about our Nadigar Thilagam Sivaji Ganesan in Microsoft shopping Site : Developed by one Mr. Karthi.
http://apps.microsoft.com/windows/en...-3aeb59ec0ef8#
Forever Sivaji
He is one of the legends who cast his magic spell on Tamil cinema for 50 years. There is no Tamil actor ever - then and now even in future - could live and be successful without inheriting some of his DNA codes. Nadigar Thilagam Sivaji Ganesan is the man who inspired the careers of almost all the present generation actors. Even Rajinikanth and Kamal Haasan proved their mettle to enter films by reproducing Sivaji Ganesan's dialogues in films. There is no actor who has not recited his dialogue for his first offer.
Such was the impact his films had on their generation. Though he walked in style, smiled in style, wept in style, one important factor that contributed to the success of Nadigar Thilagam was his dialogue delivery. The thespian's voice and diction trained actors in dialogue delivery in films. The rise of Dravidian movement that used films to propagate its ideologies was a boon to actors like Sivaji Ganesan and MGR who spoke the language with impeccable accent and style.
The authority of Sivaji Ganesan's dialogue delivery was recognized even before his first Tamil film 'Parasakthi' was released. Sivaji himself lent his voice to Mukkammala Krishnamurthy, a Telugu actor, for a Tamil film, Niraparathi before Parasakthi. Later when Sivaji excelled from the court room in 'Parasakthi' arrived one of the greatest actors of all time in world cinema.
'Parasakthi' is a trend setter. It was after 'Parasakthi' started the trend of a film's dialogues printed and sold separately like film songs book. Though the dialogue writers can also take credit for it the actors who gave life to the words also share equal credit. Of all the films whose dialogues were made in book forms nearly all of them happened to be Sivaji Ganesan's films. It may not be wrong to say Sivaji's dialogues in 'Parasakthi' took the fans away from Tamil films that used to have 15 or more songs each.
Sivaji Ganesan with his extraordinary memory and powerful voice could fascinate his fans with long spells of dialogues in pure Tamil. He said once "dialogue for me is poetry. I have a passion for poetry. And so, there was no problem for me in rendering it effectively."
If we look at his films from the perspective of the time in which they appeared we can safely conclude there can be no equal for him in dialogue delivery. Rightly he was given the title 'Simmakkuralon' by his fans. Sivaji knew when to shoot up and when to tone down to achieve maximum impact. Be it historical films like 'Veerapandia Kattabomman', 'Manohara', or mythological films like 'Karnan', 'Thruvilaiyadal', or civilized socials like 'Parasakthi', 'Thangappadhakkam' Sivaji has shown the range existed till then.
Today when dubbing has become a high-tech sound engineering, it's enlightening to recall the sheer magic of Sivaji who could recall his entire stretch of dialogues with the same emotions with which it was delivered 6 months before. So was the passion and so was the talent.
It has been nine years since Nadigar Thilagam passed away. But the charisma of the legend continues to sway film maniacs.
Here are some of the immortal dialogues of Nadigar Thilagam 'Simmakkuralon' Sivaji Ganesan to replenish your good memories.
An actor and a gentleman
Sivaji Ganesan was well known as one of India's best actors but what was the man like? SABITA RADHAKRISHNA profiles the thespian.
A SEVEN-year-old boy watched the "Veerapandya Kattabomman" nadagam in fascinated silence. He was hoisted on stage to make an appearance as a British soldier. He enjoyed the stage and savoured the applause. Once home, his father, a freedom fighter, thrashed him mercilessly. How could he play the role of an "enemy"? How dared he preen himself on stage! Something broke in the little boy's psyche. What was wrong in being an actor and fending for himself? It would mean one mouth less to feed.
Ganesa joined the Madurai Shri Bala Gana Sabha on the pretext that he was an orphan, aware that his parents would never permit him to leave home, much less join theatre. This young boy became the legendary Sivaji Ganesan, who played the role of "Veerapandiya Kattabomman" in the film of the same name.
Sivaji's growth as an actor was meteoric and phenomenal thanks to single minded pursuit of his goal despite the most adverse of circumstances. His dedication to the theatre, passion, hard work and a grim determination to reach the heights of excellence made him one of the greatest actors in his lifetime with a career span of 65 years and nearly 300 films and innumerable plays to his credit.
The training at the gurukul was rigorous beginning with early bath and then prayers. Training in music and dance followed, and the next session involved learning the dialogues for the night performance. "We did not get one square meal in a day. Though we led an austere life, we had to talk loudly and act like kings on stage... " In Periyakulam, a kindly soul sent the boys a bag of rice. One of them accidentally poured kerosene on the bag. They were so hungry that they washed the rice with soap and ate it. The boys were not permitted to go home in years and letters were censored. They would find centipedes in the shirts, red ants in the wigs and the place was rife with snakes and scorpions. However daunting this may have been, young Ganesan's dogged determination to make it big one day kept him from being resentful or rebellious. He never once forgot a good deed done to him and venerated those who were instrumental in promoting his career.
Annadurai wrote a play "Sivaji Kanda Hindu Rajyam" and MGR, who was supposed to play the lead role, backed out with hardly a week left. When the 17-year-old Ganesan rattled off the dialogue in one go, he bagged the coveted lead. Periyar who saw the play announced that in future the young actor would be known as Sivaji Ganesan.
Having suffered abject poverty, he saw to it that his family was well provided for, and took his siblings and their children under his wing, once he began earning well. Often, one who has suffered intense hardship and has abysmal poverty clutches at money when it flows in. But Sivaji, on the other hand, became a great philanthropist. There is no record of how much money he gave to people as it was always done quietly. "Parasakti" catapulted him into fame and fortune. After his foray into films, Sivaji started a drama company just so his colleagues in theatre should not face unemployment. He began to work relentlessly unmindful of his health.
His family life suffered. He worked three shifts a day, often moving from one studio to another hardly going home. "I do not know how my children grew up. They received all the love and attention from their mother Kamala and my brother Shanmugham." Marrying Kamala was the best thing that happened to him and he has often said that she was his greatest asset. Though Sivaji was not actively involved in politics, he supported the ideologies of the leaders he loved, and would always be ready with donations he had collected for a good cause. M. Karunanidhi, whom he considered a brilliant playwright, was a dear childhood playmate. Annadurai and Periyar loved him. Sivaji was so close to M.G. Ramachandran that he visited him in the U.S. when the latter was very ill. Politics was a bitter pill to swallow and time and again, the actor suffered the crushing disappointment of being let down by the very friends that he sought to support. After many such disappointments, he realised the wisdom of moving away from the political arena.
Intensely patriotic, Sivaji Ganesan was quoted as saying that the most valued of his awards were the Padma Shri and the Padma Bhushan where the Government of India recognised his contribution as a good citizen. Much later than he deserved he received the Dada Phalke Saheb Award. The Chevalier award from the French Government in 1995 in the last phase of his life made the Indians sit up and notice his achievements once more.
Overwork and a hard life took its toll and, on July 21, 2001, the colossus passed on. The world and his family wept, but those who loved him knew that it was not an end but a beginning — for all those children who are being educated with his legacy of love.
SIVAJI GANESAN (ORIGINAL name, Villupuram Chinnaiya Ganeshamurthy), the mighty oak of Tamil movies, has returned to his roots in Mother Earth. The great screen presence, that inimitable voice capable of reflecting and registering even the minutest change of hue and colour in the spectrum of human emotions, the indefinable factor, charisma and more, that elevated a mere V. C. Ganesan to Sivaji Ganesan, can now only be seen and heard in the rich legacy of the 300 plus movies he has left behind.
He had played an incredible variety of roles in his long career - thief, king, cult figures, historical characters, rebel, playboy, labour leader, mythological figures, religious personalities, selfish man, unselfish head of the family... you name it and he has played that role to perfection!
Indeed in the history of cinema no other actor has played such wide and winsome range of roles. And he was never typecast for a particular role like most stars of today. Excepting perhaps for the stunts-oriented action roles, he felt at home in every role!
Even though he woke up one fine morning, like Lord Byron, and found himself famous with ``Parasakthi'' (1952), he had his first dip in the waters of cinema earlier in ``Nirabaradhi''(1951). Made in Telugu and Tamil by the sadly forgotten pioneer, the Grand Old Man of South Indian cinema, H. M. Reddi, it had Mukkammala Krishnamurthy as the hero, in both versions. As he could not speak Tamil, Reddi looked round for suitable voice to dub the dialogue for the hero, and he found a young struggling stage actor named V. C. Ganesan! The voice-lender received a princely sum of five hundred rupees!
Even in ``Parasakthi'' some had doubts if he were the right choice. Indeed shooting was stopped for some time and better actors were considered to replace the new man. But the main man of the project, P. A. Perumal (known as PAP among his pals), stood firmly like a mighty rock refusing to replace his first choice. The rest, as the cliche goes, is history. No wonder Sivaji Ganesan revered P. A. Perumal as his God on earth.
When ``Parasakthi'' was undergoing its birth pangs, another film, ``Poonkothai'' faced similar problems. Indeed in this film Sivaji Ganesan played the supporting role (known as second hero in the local filmland lingo) with the Telugu film star, A. Nageswara Rao as hero. Interestingly in the initial ads promoting the film his name appeared as V. C. Ganesan and not as Sivaji Ganesan!
Stardom did not come to him on a silver platter even after ``Parasakthi'' as many are inclined to think today. In the early 1950s he had to struggle, for some of his films did not fare well at the box-office. ``Andha Naal''(1954) the first song-dance less Tamil film, in which he played the then not so popular anti-hero, won him high praise but the film did not do well money-wise. Very few are aware that Sivaji Ganesan was the third actor to play the role. The film was begun with S. V. Sahasranamam cast in the lead role and as he was thought to be rather old he was replaced by that fine actor, Calcutta N. Viswanathan who was then knocking on the doors of Tamil cinema with no success. (Later he did act in Tamil films and played many character roles brilliantly.) For some reason he too was removed, and entered Sivaji Ganesan with bells on.
Who inspired Sivaji Ganesan as his role model in his career? While he created his roles with his own genius and observation of real life persons, he did draw inspiration from that actor's actor and the brilliant Hollywood superstar, Spencer Tracy. Observant visitors to his Shanthi theatre on Anna Salai, in Chennai, would have noticed above the entrance to the balcony class a photo showing him and Spencer Tracy. It was taken in Hollywood, when he visited it in the early 1960s. (During a chat some years ago, he told this writer about his adoration for Spencer Tracy. ``I took ideas from his style of walking to form my own style!'' he said.)
Did Sivaji Ganesan overact as remarked by many? The answer is yes and no! His background was Tamil theatre. In theatre one has to be loud - gestures, voice, emotions, and all. Consequently he could not escape such legacy. The other telling reason is the Tamil cinema of that day - its producers, directors and writers. They took advantage of his incredible memory, talent and skill to speak reams of jaw-breaking alliterative, high-flown Tamil dialogue in a single take of the shot. And they found gold in it! In every other film of his they introduced historical and other plays, or scenes specially written for him. It was a kind of exploitation! Ashoka the Great, Akbar, Othello (both in Tamil and English! ) Cheran Senguttuvan.. and many more, he did them all. Sivaji Ganesan, the great actor may be gone but his films shall live forever.
As somebody remarked a movie actor never dies for he shall always live in his movies. So will Sivaji Ganesan.
A doyen among actors
Sivaji Ganesan, 1928-2001.
SIVAJI GANESAN, 72, one of the brightest stars on the Tamil film firmament for nearly five decades, passed away at a Chennai hospital on July 21. With more than 300 film roles to his credit, he inspired a whole generation of artists, virtually creating a new school of acting.
His acting career, which began at the age of eight, could be divided into three phases - 1936 to 1952, when he acted only on stage; 1952 to 1974, when he acted for the big screen and also gave stage performances; and 1974 to 1999, when he acted only in films. (His last film was Pooparikka Varigirom.)
V. SUDERSHAN
Villupuram Chinniah Ganesan, or V.C. Ganesan, was born on October 1, 1928, in Villupuram, which was then in Tamil Nadu's South Arcot district, to Chinnaiapillai, a railway employee and freedom fighter, and Rajamani, in whose name he was to launch later a successful film company, Rajamani Pictures.
Smitten by a street drama about Kattabomman, the feudal Polagar of Panchalan-kurichi who defied the British, young Ganesan became enamoured of acting and abandoned school when he was in Class Two. Forsaking home, he joined the Madurai-based Bala Gana Sabha drama troupe first, and later the troupe run by Ethaartham Ponnusamipillai. From child roles he graduated to female roles and then on to the "raja part", the role of the hero, as it was known then. The first landmark in his career was his portrayal of the Maratha warrior Sivaji in the drama ''Sivaji Kanda Samrajyam'' written by Dravida Munnetra Kazha-gam leader C.N. Annadurai, who went on to become the Tamil Nadu Chief Minister. E.V. Ramaswamy, the patriarch of the Dravidian movement, acclaimed his stellar performance and referred to Ganesan as 'Sivaji' Ganesan. This was in 1946. The sobriquet stuck.
The big break in Sivaji's career came in 1952, when he acted as the hero in Parasakthi, a film directed by Krishnan-Panju. The dialogue, written by DMK leader and former Chief Minister M. Karunanidhi in fiery and flowery prose with a surfeit of alliterations, the hallmark of Karunanidhi's style, came powerfully alive in a stunning performance by Sivaji, unparalleled in Tamil cinema. The monologue uttered as an address to Tamil Nadu in the earlier scenes and the courthouse speech in the closing stages of the film were classic instances of delightful oratory. A star had arrived in Tamil cinema.
The Karunanidhi-Sivaji combination made an explosive impact. The writer's rich prose, brimming with vitality, was given emotive and impressive expression by the actor. Every film in which they collaborated was a success. Notable among them were Thirumbi Paar, Manohara, Kuravanji and Iruvar Ullam.
Sivaji had an extraordinary flair for dialogue delivery. He pioneered an exquisite style, diction, tone and tenor. (Later other scriptwriters, such as Solaimalai, Sakthi Krishnaswamy, Aroor Das, and 'Vietnam Veedu' Sundaram, were to provide dialogue that tapped his diction, which rendered the Tamil language euphonious.)
A generation of actors and aspirants modelled themselves on his style. Despite this mass attempt to imitate and emulate him there was no replicating or duplicating the veteran. This stylish, dramatic presentation was essentially considered to be a feature suitable for the stage rather than the screen. A device used frequently in his earlier films to give an outlet to his histrionic talents was the inclusion of short historical dramas - on the Chera King Senkuttuvan, Akbar's son Salim or Jahangir, Socrates, Emperor Asoka among others - within the main plot, often dealing with a social theme.
His acting ability received maximum exposure in the bantering arguments Veerapandiya Kattabomman has with his British adversaries in the eponymous film. Sivaji received the best actor award for this role at the Afro-Asian film festival held in Cairo in 1960.
Sivaji's talents were by no means restricted to his oratorical prowess and powerful dialogue delivery. He could emote all the nine moods (navarasas) realistically. This skill found scope in all his films and came out into full play in his 100th film Navarathri in 1964, in which he played nine different characters signifying wonder, fear, compassion, anger, gentleness, revulsion, romantic passion, courage and happiness.
His other commendable multi-role performances were in Uthama Puthiran in a dual role, and Deiva Magan and Bale Pandiya in which he did three roles each.
Sivaji Ganesan played a wide range of characters, from god and king to commoner. Whether it was the mercurial Chola emperor Raja Raja Cholan, Lord Siva, Lord Muruga, Saivite saint Appar, Vaishnavite saint Periyaalvar or Tamil poet Ambigapathy, Sivaji was always at his scintillating best. He was equally splendid in contemporary roles and stereotypes making every performance a memorable one.
Superb among them are his roles as Bharatha in Sampoorna Ramayanam, the patriotic lawyer Chidambaram Pillai in Kappalottiya Thamizhan, the nagaswaram player Sikkal Shanmugasundaram in Thillana Mohanambal, Prestige Padma-nadha Aiyer in Vietnam Veedu, Barrister Rajanikanth in Gauravam and Police Superintendent Chaudhury in Thangapadhakkam.
Despite achieving stupendous success on the screen, Sivaji remained faithful to his first love, the stage, and acted in plays for decades. Scenes from some of his films remain etched in memory: the 'Yaaradi Nee Mohini' song sequence in Uttama Puthiran, where Sivaji's mannerisms would remind present day movie-goers of Rajnikanth's style; the physically challenged Ponniah in Bhagapirivinai, the inimitable gait as the fisherman in Thiruvilayadal and the clash with Tamil scholar Nakkeeran in the same film; his duel over artistic superiority with Padmini in Thillana Mohanambal; particularly during the 'Nalanthaana?' song sequence; and the Othello drama sequence in English with Savithri as Desdemona in Iratha Thilakam.
Sivaji had an astounding capacity to synchronise lip and body movements to playback renditions making it appear as if he was actually rendering these songs. Singers Chidambaram Jeyaraman, Tiruchi Loganathan, Seerkazhi Govindarajan and A.M. Raja in the earlier days and T.M. Soundararajan later gave voice to his songs, making the singing and speaking voices blend as an indivisible entity.
Several directors, among them Krishnan-Panju, T.R. Sundaram, L.V. Prasad, B.R. Panthulu, T. Prakash Rao, A. Bhim Singh, K. Shankar, A.P. Nagarajan, A.C. Tirulokchandar, Sridhar, P. Madh-avan, K.S. Gopalakrishnan and K. Vijayan, directed Sivaji in vastly different roles, bringing out his versatility.
It was Sivaji's tragedy that as the years progressed, opportunities for him to display his acting talent became scarce. But he did act in cameo roles, often stealing the scenes, as in Thevar Magan, which won him the National Awards Jury's Special Jury award in 1993. (Sivaji, incidentally, declined the award.)
Ironically, the man hailed as a great thespian never won a national award for best actor. He was conferred the Dadasaheb Phalke lifetime achievement award for meritorious service to Indian cinema in 1997.
THE film journal Pesum Padam gave him the honorific 'Nadigar Thilagam' (doyen of actors). Sivaji was honoured with the titles Padma Shri and Padma Bhushan and the Tamil Nadu government conferred on him the Kalaimamani award. The French government honoured him with Chevalier in the Order of Arts and Literature.
Sivaji served as a member of the Rajya Sabha. But despite his vast popularity as a film actor he was not successful in politics. Starting out as a Dravida Kazhagam and later DMK activist, he crossed over to the Congress in the late 1950s. When the Congress split in 1969 he stayed with the 'old' Congress of Kamaraj. After Kamaraj's death he joined the Congress led by Indira Gandhi. In 1989, he formed his own Tamizhaga Munnetra Munnani and struck out alone only to suffer a humiliating defeat in the elections. Later he functioned as leader of the Tamil Nadu Janata Dal for a while, but soon ceased to be active in politics.
Essentially a creature of the stage when he entered films, Sivaji Ganesan brought that baggage with him and superimposed it effectively on the film medium. Yet his brilliant acting made this so-called violation of screen norms the accepted norm of film acting. Generations of Tamils learnt to appreciate the beauty and power of the Tamil language because Sivaji Ganesan breathed new life into it.
Sivaji was no stranger to Sri Lanka. His movies ran to packed houses in the island. Several of his films were adapted and remade in Sinhala. Substantial portions of Pilot Premnath and Mohanapunnagai were shot in Sri Lankan locales with Sri Lankan artists Malini Fonseka and Geetha Kumarasinghe in the lead female roles.
Montage of images
Sivaji Ganesan exuded charisma on screen and at home too. Ably supporting him through his career was his wife, Kamalamma. SABITA RADHAKRISHNA shares a few treasured memories...
AS A star-struck teenager, Sivaji Ganesan was the only actor I wanted to meet, having seen most of his films. His incredible acting talent, grasp of characterisation, mobility of expression, inimitable rendering of dialogue and charisma, will go down in history as the hallmark of one of the greatest actors India has produced.
I remember him particularly as the hapless hero enmeshed in the cross-fire of affection in "Mangayar Thilakam", the tragedy- struck son in "Ethirparathathu", the accomplished nadaswaram player in "Thillana Mohanambal," the ageing hero in "Mudhal Mariyadai," lead actor in innumerable historical and mythological films and a countless others. Such sterling performances left one undecided as to which film was his magnum opus. Diehard critics felt his rhetoric was loud and dramatic, but the rest of us believed he was an actor of his times and it was difficult to remain unmoved through any of his films.
I remember him during one of his recordings at the Madras Doordarshan when he was asked to enact a scene from the film on the Mahratta chief, Shivaji. It was done in one take, in one breath so to speak, such that it left us breathless.
My friend Usha, promised an introduction to Sivaji Ganesan, as their families were closely knit by friendship. Sivaji and his wife Kamalamma, warmly received us into their home as friends. Sundays would always be the best day to visit them and we could not escape the afternoon meal. The table groaned with delicacies - pepper chops, jumbo prawns or large slices of fish and biriyani. We sat with Sivaji at the table and 'pigged out' for he would raise his eyebrows in disapproval if we picked at the food, and was disappointed at our vegetarian tendencies. My idol did not have clay feet. He came across as a warm, caring person solicitous of your comfort. He enjoyed talking to you, if you wished to listen. When we did meet, for the first time, I was nervous, wondering how I would converse with him in my poor Tamil. But I did, and after several meetings and visits to his home, he would tease me about my language ("shocking to say the least, when Tamil is your mother tongue!") He had a delightful sense of humour and imitated the modern TV anchor girls, who had their own brand of Tamil and diction.
Many years ago, when I was working on a script for Madras Doordarshan, I needed to visit the place and possibly stay there overnight. Usha, who agreed to come with me, suggested that we stay at Sivaji's place. I almost fainted. I could not take the liberty and, more so, there were four of us. When Usha checked with Kamalamma and told me that they had extended their welcome, I went along, though it was with a sense of trepidation and much hesitation. Our train arrived in the early hours of the morning and we thought we would creep inside without disturbing the household.
Sivaji was lying on a cot outside, enjoying the coolness of the new day and welcomed us in his usual style. It was as if he was just a family friend, whose hospitality we enjoyed and it was difficult to believe that a celebrity like him had no airs or hang-ups. I requested him time for an interview after I returned from work. "Sure, sure, Mudaliaramma," he said, you can take all day!"
This article is actually dedicated to the wonderful woman, Kamalamma, who has been friend, companion and wife to the actor. Her name was frequently on his lips and she answered without any hesitation, however trivial the reason might have been. It might be to tend to his guests or arrange for the milk or to plan the programme for the day. Her perpetual smile, her big pottu and untiring energy are a big part of my memories. At their home in Madras, she would serve us and "us" would be at least 10-15 guests. She bustled, serving the guests herself, wiping the perspiration between frequent trips to the kitchen, but still carrying on, with a smile that radiated from her heart. Her daughter-in-law Baby was getting cast in the same mould and these two gracious women would eat at 3.30 p.m. in the true tradition of the Indian woman of yesteryear after the last guest had eaten. We suspected this was probably the order of the day, every single day.
Sivaji was such an awesome figure that however much he put you at ease you did not let your hair down with him. With Kamalamma, you could laugh and joke, and recount anecdotes. I remember asking her if film gossip did not worry her all these years. "When your husband is a film star and is literally worshipped by so many people, you have to face the inevitable. You have to trust your husband and brush gossip aside, closing your eyes to things which do not really matter in the larger context of life. Besides, my husband has not done anything to provide grist to the gossip mill... "A woman who is willing to walk in the shadow of a colossus is rare in today's world. A woman so supportive, and loving, and to whom being there for the family was of paramount importance - that describes Kamalamma.
Sivaji on Kamalamma: "One has to exercise tremendous will power and control, because you act in close proximity with a number of beautiful women. That is why it is necessary for every actor to have an understanding, considerate wife, who is also pleasant- looking! Our tensions are enormous, but you think of the wonderful woman waiting for you at home, someone loving and caring, that you do not feel like indulging yourself in petty, meaningless relationships. Kamalamma is and always has been my anchor, my counsel and support. every actor has not been as lucky as I have!"
To Sivaji, the family was always important and the extended family was also his responsibility. He gave his unqualified affection to his brothers' family as much as he did to his own children. Dignity and respect were of prime importance and for the gauravam the family members were expected to toe the line... woe to them when and if they strayed.
On awards, and not getting his rightful due: "What are awards, they are just souvenirs of appreciation, and don't I get them from my fans?"
On present day acting: "Kamal Hassan is the finest actor we have today and deserves all the accolades he has received. The present-day actors do not work hard, at least most of them don't. In our days we had such intensive training and rarely used doubles. Any person is selected for a "suitable" role. Anyway they are actors of their times and in their own way give performances the director demands."
On retiring from films: "Though I have slowed down, I will never retire. I will die with my grease paint on."
And that's what he did, almost...
I have not had the courage yet to visit Kamalamma after her bereavement. I can commiserate with her in her pain, her immeasurable grief and insecurity. Having been the pivot of Sivaji Ganesan's existence, especially in the autumnal years, God give her strength to continue being a pillar of strength to her family to whom she has become doubly precious
REVIEW OF BOOK " AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN ACTOR
Brando and Ganesan
Marlon Brando (1924-2004) in the USA and Sivaji Ganesan (1928-2001) in South India were talented contemporaries.
Both set the definitions for what acting is, both on the stage and in movies in their cultural milieu. Both were school dropouts; while Brando left school during his high school years, Sivaji Ganesan never even completed his primary schooling. Both blossomed as talent that has been unseen and unheard of; Brando in the hands of Elia Kazan, and Sivaji in delivering the scripts of Anna and Karunanidhi. In late career, both had their critics; Brando was lampooned for his ‘method acting’ and Sivaji was critiqued for his ‘overacting’.
One day in 1962, both Brando and Ganesan met for lunch and exchanged pleasantries in Hollywood.
The motif of a new face seizing an opportunity of a lifetime when the chosen star rejects the role in stage or cinema is a recurrent theme. In his autobiography, Marlon Brando noted that his big break on stage in 1947, for a Tennessee Williams play, A Streetcar Named Desire, came when he was the third choice as the lead male cast. Two established movie stars, first John Garfield (1913-1952) and then Burt Lancaster (1913-1994) had to turn down the role. Then, the director and producer of the play felt that Brando was ‘probably too young’, but left the final decision of selection to playwright Tennessee Williams, who wanted Brando to ‘have the role’. A Streetcar Named Desire play opened in New York on Dec.3, 1947 and a 23 year old Brando became the talk of the town.
Akin to Brando’s story, we have Sivaji Ganesan, hailed as the Marlon Brando of Indian stage and screen, who seized an opportunity of his life time in 1946, at the age of 18, when he was offered the role of Maratha king Sivaji, for a play authored by C.N. Annadurai (Anna) – a role that was rejected by M.G. Ramachandran (MGR), at the last moment. Here are excerpts from Ganesan’s reminiscences of his lucky break:
“Anna wrote the play Sivaji kanda Hindu Rajyam. Originally, M.G. Ramachandran was chosen to play the role of Sivaji and the costumes tailored for him. For some reason MGR turned down the offer. With hardly a week left for the play, D.V. Narayanaswamy, the stage manager, was extremely worried. He told Anna that MGR had refused to act this role. Both had a brainstorming session to find alternatives…Anna thought a beard would look good on me. He put the question to me very directly. ‘Ganesa, are you willing to act as Sivaji?’ I perspired profusely at this question…Anna asked me to try it out. Moreover he had the confidence that I could do it. He handed me a 90 page dialogue manuscript and adviced me to go through it. He was going home and on his return would audition me for the role. Anna gave me the manuscript at eleven in the morning and he came back around six in the evening…I managed to memorise so much in merely seven hours. ‘You are Sivaji’, he announced, his voice choking with emotion. If I could memorise a 90 page manuscript in a relatively short time, it was only because of my passion for acting, you could even call it addiction…There were only four days left for the play to be staged and all the costumes tailored for MGR had to be downsized to suit me. They had to pad cotton in some places to correct the size difference as I was a mere boy and was slightly built at that time.”
Thus, at the age of 18, Ganesan received his moniker ‘Sivaji’ in 1946, and comfortably carried it to this tomb. “I am not very sure of the day of the week, but I know I was born on October 1, 1928.” said he. That day was a Monday, and on that day his father Chinnaiya mandrayar was arrested for taking part in an anti-British campaign in Villupuram. This autobiography of Villupuram Chinnaiya Ganesa Moorthy (Ganesa Moorthy was his original name) first appeared in Tamil on Oct.1, 2002, on the first posthumous birthday of Sivaji. It consists of a question and answer format. The questions were formulated by Dr. T.S. Narayana Swamy, and Sivaji provides reminiscences of his notable life. The English version appeared five years later on Oct.1, 2007.
For a comparison on the influence of maternal love, here is Brando’s reminiscences: “The money that came with A Streetcar Named Desire was less important to me, however, than something else: every night after the performance, there would be seven or eight girls waiting in my dressing room. I looked them over and choose one for the night. For a twenty four year old who was eager to follow his penis wherever it could go, it was wonderful. It was more than that; to be able to get just about any woman I wanted into bed was intoxicating.” Brando was unlucky in that his mother turned out to be an alcoholic and he suffered badly from lack of maternal love and direction.
For Sivaji, his mother Rajamani Ammal, though illiterate had a mother’s common sense in directing her prodigious son’s family life. Ganesan reminise’s in gratitude: “The film Parasakti was released in 1952 and I got married the same year…My mother decided that it was time for me to tie the knot and arranged to get me married to my cousin’s daughter Kamala…The simplicity of the wedding made it a revolutionary ceremony. I was married on May 1st 1952 at Swamimalai, a place close to my cousin’s house. Sri P.A. Perumal, annan MGR, Sri Karunanidhi, the poet Kannadasan, Smt. T.A. Maduram, Sri. S.V. Sahasranamam, along with directors Krishnan and Panju attended my wedding…Nowadays much emphasis is placed on celebrating weddings extravagantly with glitz and glamour. My wedding was devoid of that and my total expenditure was only five hundred rupees! I confess that I did not have the means to spend more.”
For the uninitiated, P.A.Perumal was the producer of Sivaji’s first movie Parasakti, who stood by his talent when other influential personnel (like AVM’s studio boss Meiyappa Chettiar and director P. Neelakandan) in the studios griped about him. Karunanidhi was the script writer for the movie, veteran Sahasranamam was a fellow actor in the movie and Krishnan-Panju were the directors of Parasakti. The mention of 500 rupees for his wedding seems to be a dig and rebuke to the well-publicized wedding of his grand daughter N. Sathyalakshumi to Jeyalalitha’s then adopted son V.N. Sudhakaran, that made news on Sept.7, 1995.
In a profession rife with polygamy, paramours, dalliances and affairs, Sivaji practiced monogamy and attributed his mental health and vigor to his wife’s devotion and love. His sincere compliments to his wife Kamal were, “She is the captain of our home and my boss. I will act only in accordance with her wishes.” The book is dedicated to Kamala, who died on Nov. 3, 2007.
Hard Work
In the first edition (1963) of their landmark book, Indian Film, Eric Barnouw and his protégé S.Krishnaswamy, allocated three paragraphs to Sivaji’s role and relevance to Tamil movies. (Krishnaswamy was the son of K. Subramanyam, one of the pioneers in Tamil films.) However, in the second edition (1980) of the same book, the three paragraphs had been condensed into a single paragraph. For record, I provide the first, adulatory paragraph that appeared in the first edition below, to reflect the importance of Sivaji the actor in the then Madras in late 1950s and early 1960s, when his influence was at its peak.
“In Madras one of the most astonishing phenomena is film star Sivaji Ganesan. Among southern film stars only M.G. Ramachandran, the star associated with the Dravidian movement, has in recent years come close to him in status. For some years a leading Madras theatre has shown only films starring Sivaji Ganesan. This has not been difficult, for he stars in innumerable films. For some years it has seemed risky for any producer to produce a Tamil film not starring Sivaji Ganesan. [italics, as in the original.] He produces films himself but also appears in the production of others. He is always involved in many projects simultaneously, dolign out a morning of shooting time here, an afternoon there, while numerous producers wait nervously for his next moment of availability. It is common for films made under these circumstances to be in production one, two or three years, or even more. For some years in the Madras film industry scores of film workers – producers, directors, actors, writers, technicians – have at all times been dependent on the favorable decisions of Sivaji Ganesan. His nod secures financial backing. Because of his central importance, script, cast and choice of director are all subject to his approval. During his precious appearances at the studio he works with speed and precision, and can be so charming to co-workers that he is adored by all. Then he is off again, leaving anxiety as to when he will return once more. In appearance he does not especially conform to any hero pattern. He is, on the contrary, squat and stockily built. But his fine voice has a large range of expressiveness, and he can play such a variety of roles that almost any starring role is offered to him – comic or tragic – without regard to suitability. Such is his standing, so precious his time, that no director dares direct him, and his scenes are often completely out of key with other portions of a film. Seldom has a substantial talent been used so recklessly – or so profitably. He has amassed a fortune and carries on well-organized and well-publicized charities.”
Sivaji concurs with the profile of him provided by Barnow and Krishnaswami. Before his first invited trip to USA in 1962, he notes: “I had signed up for the film Bale Pandiya. I went into the studios on the second of the month and left the sets on the twelfth after completing the film. I probably hold the world record of completing a film in eleven days time. I had acted in three roles in the film and annan M.R. Radha in two.” In another page he had stated: “During the period of my life when I was extremely busy, the studios would assign rooms exclusively for me during the different shifts. I worked in three shifts (7am-1pm), (2pm-9pm), (10pm-5am). I used to work twenty hours a day, and on odd days return home for four hours of rest. Many a time I would run through the day’s schedule and move to the next studio to begin the following day’s work. I compensated for my sleep deprivation by napping whilst traveling in the car and during breaks.”
A technical dictionary defines a shot as ‘what is recorded between the time a camera starts and the time it stops, ie., between the director’s call for ‘Action’ and his call to ‘Cut’. The three common shots are, (1) A long shot or establishing shot, showing the main object at a considerable distance from the camera and thus presenting it in relation to its general surroundings; (2) A medium shot, showing the object in relation to its immediate surroundings; (3) A close-up, showing only the main object, or, more often, only a part of it.
The gamut of this autobiography consists of 155 questions and answers. Among these, the first 49 questions provide the long shot, covering Sivaji’s life from childhood to the release of his first movie Parasakti in 1952. In this, the hero remembers with gratitude those who helped him in kind and cash – drama troupe leader Yathartham Ponnuswami Pillai, his senior actors Kaka Radhakrishnan, M.R. Radha, N.S. Krishnan, MGR, Anna, Karunanidhi, producer of his first film P.A. Perumal and the directors of Parasakti, Krishnan and Panju. Following 63 questions offer a medium shot, covering the period from 1952 to 1970, when Sivaji’s influence in the Tamil movie reached its peak. He remembers affectionately his guru in politics, the Congress leader K. Kamaraj, and a few in the movie world – like producer/director B.R.Banthulu and directors A. Bhimsingh and A.P.Nagarajan. Final 43 questions spanning the period from 1970 to 1993 were more or less close-up shots, when Sivaji dabbled in politics and became a flop. He also nursed a hurt feeling that his contributions to the Indian movie world had been slighted by national politics, indifference and professional politician ‘termites’ (his term), who used him for their wants.
In Politics
Sivaji Ganesan’s political career lacked direction and commitment. From 1946 to 1957, he was aligned with DMK leaders like Anna and Karunanidhi. He says: “I have never been a member of the DK or DMK. No doubt, I accepted the ideologies of Anna and Priyar and tried to spread their message. I accepted the principles for which the party stood, but did not become a member.” Then from 1957 until 1975, Sivaji’s mentor in politics was Congress leader Kamaraj. After Kamaraj’s demise, he shifted his alliance to Indira Gandhi, until her death in 1984.
Indira Gandhi nominated Sivaji, for the Rajya Sabha (Upper House) in 1982, after this post became vacant following the death of Hindi actress Nargis (1928-1981). A bout his performance at the Rajya Sabha, Sivaji reminisces: “If I spoke my mind just became I was an MP, it would lead to squabble. I went to Delhi to represent the woes of the film industry. I attended the Rajya Sabha sittings, spoke about the ideals of Kamaraj at opportune moments and instigated others to follow them. What more can one do?” After Indira Gandhi’s assassination, Sivaji’s ties with the Congress Party soured, which he attribute to tale carriers in the party who are professional politicians. Strangely he never mention a Congress Party big-wig’s name in Tamil Nadu (the likes of R. Venkataraman, G. K. Moopanar, Kumari Ananthan, V. Ramamurthi, Maragatham Chandrasekhar and P. Chidambaram) in his recollection.
About Rajiv Gandhi’s selection and tenure from 1984 to 1989, Sivaji’s thoughts are as follows: “I also played a part in making Rajiv Gandhi a politician and worked to make him the prime minister. One should not forget that, should one? Prior to the elections I met Rajiv Gandhi at the Governor’s residence. I told him rather pointedly that there were many termites in the party and that he must get rid of them, otherwise he could not become the prime minister. Rajiv Gandhi’s face reddened on such a delicate issue being brought out in the open. Quick to seize advantage, certain persons of our State thought that the moment was just right to eliminate me. They passed on some unsavoury information to Rajiv Gandhi about me. They made me a scapegoat. I thought to myself that I did not need this party and if I stayed, they would humiliate me further.”
On Jan.28, 1988, Sivaji quit his ties with Congress Party that sustained him for over 30 years. Soon after that, he established his own party named Tamizhaga Munnetra Munnani (TMM) on Feb.10, 1988. He considers this decision as one of his mistakes. “Many of the people with me were professional politicians. They had to remain in politics necessarily to make a living. I was compelled to start a party for their sake, although I did not require it.” Egged on by those who pampered him, his TMM party contested the January 1989 Tamil Nadu state legislative assembly elections, in alliance with one faction of AIADMK (that of MGR’s wife Janaki Ramachandran). Of the 49 TMM candidates who stood for election, none were elected. Sivaji himself lost at Tiruvayaru constituency to DMK candidate Chandrasekaran Durai by a margin of 10,643 votes. He notes, “The votes that I secured came from people of another party. It is true that I was defeated. This was a big disappointment and a very difficult situation that I faced. What could one do? When we take wrong decisions, we have to face disappointments.”
Later, Sivaji dissolved his party and on invitation from his friend V.P. Singh (later to be prime minister), he joined the Janata Dal and functioned for a while only to quit later. His advice to artistes with political inclinations were: “Be a friend to politicians but do not become a politician. Do not become a member and get caught in the web…Remain a singer, don’t become the song…this is my message.”
Plus and Minus
The plus points of the book include, (a) a memorable assemblage of retrieved old photos of stage plays and clips of movie stills, (b) an appendix providing a listing of Sivaji’s 10 plays, staged by his troupe Sivaji Nadaga Mandram, 287 movie titles and another 18 movie titles that featured him in a guest/honorary role. A notable demerit of the book is the absence of an index, a common omission in Tamil books.
I located a slip in Sivaji’s famed memory. He had noted that on his way to USA in 1962 as a guest of cultural exchange program, he first landed in Rome. “I was scheduled to join His Holiness the Pope for a meal, but unfortunately the Pope died a week before my arrival and I did not get the chance to meet him.” The fact is that Pope John XXIII died not in 1962, but on June 3, 1963.
Though he had seen three generations of performers from age 7 to 70, Sivaji had been diplomatic on commenting about the performances of fellow artistes – actors, lyricists, music directors, playback singers, script writers and directors. His comment was: “I am an actor and it would not be ethical to comment on another performer. I will only say that he or she performed well but will never comment on anyone’s ‘bad performance’.” It appears that he never had his likes and dislikes. To the question ‘What was your salary for the film Parasakti?’ Sivaji had replied: “The highest salary I got those days was 250 rupees per month. This was my remuneration for Parasakti. I received 25,000 rupees for each of the other projects. The 250 rupees salary was an honorarium and the 25,000 for my expertise as an entertainer. As Sri P.A. Perumal was instrumental in giving me the first opportunity, I agreed to a small remuneration from him.” That was in 1952. One would be curious to learn, how much he earned for his 100th movie, Navarathri (1964), 200th movie, Trisoolam (1979) and for his final 287th movie Pooparikka Varukirom (1999). Information of his earning when he was at his peak are sadly missing.
On completing the 250 page book, one gets a feel that much has been left out in this autobiography. May be, the question and answer format adopted has a role in such omissions. Proper, penetrating questions may have been omitted for reasons of causing inconvenience for those who are living. Sivaji’s taste on sporting interests (wild game hunting) had been noted. But we are left clueless about his taste for books and authors – how big was his library? his taste for music and movies (actors, directors and technicians) in other languages. Not much information was forthcoming on the business angle of his cinematic involvement in Tamil Nadu. A few of Sivaji Ganesan’s professional associates (such as MGR, Karunanidhi, poet Kannadasan, director C.V. Sridhar and script writer Aroordhas) have left their impressions in Tamil. Among those I have checked, quite a few details on Sivaji presented by Sridhar and Aroordhas in their memoirs, are missing in this autobiography.
To sum up, as an actor Sivaji Ganesan was a class act, as a politician he was a flop. As an autobiographer, Sivaji’s performance – like many of his movies – provides glimpses of some class in a flop, leaving much to be desired.
Eric Barnow and Krishnaswamy, in the 2nd edition (1980) of their book, Indian Film, summed up on Sivaji: “He could view his own eminence objectively. Those who sought his favour, he said, had mixed feelings toward him. They wooed him but would also like to destroy him".
Asked if the dominance of the star was good for the industry, he said without hesitation that it was not.” Ganesa Moorthy the gentleman, when he passed away on July 21, 2001, took to his grave the hurt feelings and the misdeeds of those who had benefited from him and who attempted to destroy him.
The $45.00 price I paid for the book in net purchase from a New Delhi vendor seems marginally off-base for a 250 page book, and the price has not been inserted in the book. But for fans of Sivaji, it is a good memento to cherish.
Non-followers of Tamil film might not want to read this page.
I have almost stopped watching Tamil film (new ones) myself. Most of them are devoid of any legitimate talent, pretentious, and are more concerned with charming the audience, rather than telling a good story and telling it well. Good actors are reduced to the stature of stereotypes and good actresses are usually found standing behind animated mannequins called heroines, playing sis or mom. Tamil film of present day has no place for skill or talent.
But the non-followers may want to know a bit about the guy who made acting respectable in Tamil films - like Brando did in Hollywood and probably to the world. Here is my take...
The requirement for moving muscle in present day Tamil films is reserved only for dancing and fight sequences. Of course, I am being very generalistic here. But consider the achievements present day actors reap, which mainly consist of the ability to move their facial muscle. The film Valee, for example, was celebrated for its lead's (Ajith Kumar) performance. For me, it is mainly a revelation that the present generation of performers are indeed capable of a facial expression or two.
All that bashings aside, this article intents to penetrate into the phsyche of the actor Sivaji Ganesan.
I would avoid the use of titles like Chevalier, or Nadigar Thilagam, since the mere mention of the name Sivaji is enough to bring thousands of screen images to the minds of Tamil film fans, which is far more important than said titles. Historical figures like W.U. Chithambaram (Kappalotiya Tamizhan) and Kattabomman (Veerapandiya Kattabomman), religious identities like Lord Shiva (Tiruvilayadal) and Appar (Thiruvarutchelvar), all the nine roles in one film (Navarathiri) and many others are up there, representing his achievements. There are so many, so varied, but the truth is simple.
Sivaji means great screen performance. Why do I say so? And why I still hear some protest.
Who's the best actor?
I am most careful when I mention "the best actor in Tamil film". Though it would be Sivaji in my book, I can't decide for anyone else who it was, or will ever be.
Fans are torn between the realistic portrayal of Kamal and his peers, and Sivaji and performers at the time of his peak. There are those who dismiss the stage-like exaggerated performance so abundant in Tamil cinema before the eighties, while there are just as many (probably more) who revere it. The latter will appreciate Sivaji (unless they are still two bickering blocks, another being the backers of MGR), while the former are quite in unity (some grudgingly so) in admitting about Kamal Hassan's superior performance.
There used to be a time when Sivaji's name was associated with overacting. Here was his reaction to it:
"What is acting? It means doing something that is not natural. So then where is the question of overacting? When your mother dies, what do you do? You shout Amma and cry, don't you? Your instant reaction is to cry out loud. Not sit quietly covering your eyes with your hands. That's exactly what I do in my films."
Justification or not, one must admit that Sivaji had in more occasions immersed himself in the role. This is not something to shout about. Its the most basic requirements at the core of performing art. Stanislavsky's Method acting is famed for its more extreme bent on character immersion.
For the benefit of those who doesn't know this, method acting was popularised by Marlon Brando (see Film Personalities)in the fifties; which requires, amongst others, to recall the actor's memory of certain emotion during the scene. It can be very painful, especially if the memory does not permit happiness.
Whether or not Sivaji had even heard of Stanislavsky's method acting (Sowkar Janaki, to my surprise, does; she mentioned it in one interview), the performance he had brought out throughout his career exuded such possibility. He rarely looked fake, though I may add that the rest of him i.e the costume, the wig and the make-up did.
"I was inspired by the character of Kattabomman when I used to watch the theru koothus (street dramas) as a child," he said once. "I had memorised all the dialogues. But that role is not my favourite. I like all my roles, because I do full justice to every one . All good artistes will tell you the same thing. If someone has his roots in theatre, he will definitely tell you that all his roles are the same."
That might give one an idea as how much of commitment he gives to all his roles. That, I believe, is the strongest attribute one can give to a true professional. Consistent commitment and discipline.
The discipline
Which brings us to one characteristics that I found the industry has generally agreed upon - his discipline, especially punctuality.
This was what Rajinikanth learnt during his early days from his favourite actor, most likely on the set of "Nan Vazhavaippen", which is a Sivaji film with Rajini having a guest role.
Recalls V K Ramaswamy, a versatile comedian and character actor, in one of his interviews:
"One day, I came to the set at 2300 hrs. Sivaji told me, 'You've taken your money from the producer, haven't you? Then why are you late?' I told him that my callsheet was for 2300 hrs.
'That may be,' Sivaji said, 'but how can you act like that? How can you not be on the set when the film you are working in is being shot? I have done some scenes this evening, now you have to react to those, you have to do the reaction shots. How can you do that well if you don't know how I did my shots?' I learnt a lesson that day.
"Sivaji was like that. Even if a junior artiste was acting, he would remain on the set, in full make up, he insisted on doing that, he would never go away and rest. He said, I have to see what the others are doing, only then can I know how to do my own role, my scene.
This statement is another revelation about Sivaji's working method. Here is something else he mentioned to his co-star Nagesh:
'My lines are not independent, they act on, and react with, the lines others say. So if I don't know your lines, my own responses won't be up to the mark'.
Nagesh revealed something else:
"One day, after a shot -- he normally needs only one take -- he looked at me and asked, What do you think?
I said I thought maybe we could go for another take. At once, he told the director to take again. I felt very bad, very small.
After the shot was canned, I went up to him and said, Anna, what is this? I only made a comment, how can you listen to me and take me so seriously?
He told me, My boy, there are lakhs of people like you out there. If you thought that take could have been improved, lakhs of others might think so too -- only, by then, it would have been too late. So for me, it makes sense to go with your gut feeling, to do another take.
There you go. He listens. That, at times, have been the problem. In the hands of the inferior director and writing, his character suffers and has to mainly survive with Sivaji's on-screen presence.
He shines in the hands of masters like Sridhar, K.S. Gopalakrishnan, Bhim Singh, Banthulu and A P Nagarajan. The ever-inconsistent Barathiraja had a go in using Sivaji and managed to pull it off beautifully in Muthal Mariyadhai.
Kamal once declared that his favourite Sivaji performance was in his own film, Thevar Magan, where the latter's powerful screen presence did most of the acting. This usually happens especially with the older Hollywood actors like Brando and Paul Newman in present day films.
But he failed again in the latter day films like Once More and Mannavar Chinnavar, his final film, co-starring Arjun. The directors simply didn't know how to use him. They probably felt intimidated and decided to let Sivaji on his own. There lies the faliure.
His Style
"Sivaji was very convincing and realistic in his earlier films -- in the Fifties and the early Sixties," said Theodore Baskaran, a film historian to Rediff.com. "But he became a stylised and flamboyant actor during his stardom days. In the Nineties, he went back to the subtle, controlled style of acting."
Baskaran mentioned that during Sivaji's stardom, he didn't have directors controlling him, hence Sivaji's excessive reliance on his stage experience and heeding demands of some fans for flamboyance. This flamboyance was adopted by many actors following him, but only one succeeded into making it watchable - Rajini.
The Influence
To me, if at all there was one actor who devoured Sivaji's acting method in its entirety, it would be Rajinikanth.
Rajini owes all of it to Sivaji.
While Kamal also adopted, apart from Sivaji, methods from outside India, especially those of Marlon Brando and Charlie Chaplin; Rajini and Sathyaraj used Sivaji as THE encyclopaedia for acting. They never denied it.
Rajini especially remarked that "If I am the king of style, Sivaji is the emperor of style." The style he was referring to is immediately recognised by Tamil film fans as gimmicks such as popping cigarettes (and of late, cigars) into his mouth. There are more. Forget about style, his performance is very Sivaji-like during the early days. His father character in Netrikann has many traits of Sivaji's Inspector Choudary from Tanggapathakkam; the physical stiffness, the speed of the delivery of the dialogue and the outburst. Rajini's other famous character Alex Pandiyan is almost a tribute to Inspector Choudary.
The same can be said of Sathyaraj. Watch his lawyer in Villathi Villain and you need no effort to recall Sivaji's performance (my favourite) as an egostical lawyer in Gouravam.
Says Satyaraj in one interview, "When you think about it, what we know of historical characters is what Sivaji Ganesan showed us. Whether it is Subramanya Bharati or Rajaraja Cholan or Kappal Ottiya Thamizhan, Chidambaram Pillai or Veera Pandiya Kattabomman, when we think of them we see what Sivaji showed us. He defined those characters for us. He showed us how they must have walked and how they talked." Though the comment can easily be ignored as comments of another Sivaji worshipper, one must remember Satyaraj's stature as one of the leading men of Tamil cinema. He had his share of good roles, and his statements bear a testimony on strong reliance on his own memory of roles commanded by Sivaji.
Rajini and Sathyaraj are two of the most visible among Sivaji followers. I would like to limit my imagination to them. They are better actors, and worth analysises. I wouldn't want to waste my time and thought on others.
True, Sivaji's son Prabhu is a watered down version of his father; but he has a long way to go and is still struggling to establish his own identity.
The present day actors are indirectly indebted to Sivaji as they follow the followers of the eminent actor. I may be wrong and I stand to be corrected, but this remains my conviction.
There are much more to write, but more research had to be done, especially his connection, if any, with Hollywood. But I leave you here with one finaly quote from Sivaji himself.
Just to show how he was towards his final days, when he was asked about his plans:
"Plans are for businessmen. I am an actor. I will always remain an actor. What was my ambition when I started of is the same now. I still want to be a good actor!"
dear RKS. Congratulations for joining the rank and file of doyens of this prestigious thread by way of your meticulous compilations and presentations as tribute to NT. Keep up enthralling us friend!