Chapter Two
And Then Came the Voices
Although one does not have access to even a single film from the initial years of the sound era, some idea about the nature of these films can be gleaned from film reviews and magazine articles of that period. In the first six years of Tamil cinema, ninety-nine films were made, of which as many as eighty-eight were based on well-known episodes from various mythologies. That the thematic content of most of these films was mythological, contributed in no small way to the beginning of an uncritical tradition; after all, can Puranic presentations be subjected to criticism? Secondly, the choice of mythological subjects also resulted in the popularity of cinema as an entertainment form as it dealt with a subject which was familiar to the people and appealed powerfully to their sense of religious piety.
Most films of this early period were celluloid versions of stage plays which were already popular. The normal practice was to engage a drama troupe, have them enact the play and shoot the performance on film. Sarvotham Badami, who directed the second Tamil talkie, Galava the Hermit/Galavarishi (1932), told me how a stage was erected, and the troupe enacted the play, scene by scene, in front of a static camera. It was thus a photographed version of drama.1 Most of these films were shot in Bombay, Pune or Calcutta (now Kolkata) where studio floors were hired and were often made by directors and technicians who did not know Tamil. Therefore, at a very impressionable stage of its growth, Tamil cinema remained a total slave of the stage and there was little scope for cinematic conventions to develop. The long-term effects of that enslavement can still be observed. Referring to this tendency, a correspondent once wrote in The Hindu newspaper: ‘... that is inevitable until somebody courageously sets out to demolish the ranting, declaiming, rhetorical, superficially sentimental, wooden automatons—legacies of South Indian stage at its last and least creative epoch.’2
As these drama companies travelling to Bombay or Calcutta to make a film were operating in a new region and therefore had to bear the boarding and lodging expenses for the whole troupe, the tendency was to rush through and complete the project as quickly as possible. Sagar Movietone’s Harishchandra (1932), the third Tamil talkie, was made in just twenty-one days in Bombay. As a result, not much importance was given to continuity or appropriateness. In Kovalan (1933), a film set somewhere between the third and fifth century AD, one of the characters appears in a few scenes wearing spectacles! In The Exile of Sita/Sita Vanavasam (1934), Rama opens an envelope with a postage stamp and postmarks on it.
Next to mythology, the most popular subject for films was the lives of saints. In this category, New Theatre’s Nandanar (1933), the story of an untouchable farmhand who aspired to go to Chidambaram and worship Siva, was the first film and this was followed by Siruthonda Nayanar (1935). Sankaracharya was made in 1939. Parts of Sankaracharya made in 1939, were shot in Sringeri with the blessings of the Sankaracharya of that mutt. At the film’s premiere in Madurai, the Sankaracharya of Jyothir Mutt presided over the function. On this genre of films, The Hindu wrote: ‘The angle of cinematic treatment of their lives (saints) must change from the gross, objective to the imaginative and sensitively psychological.’3
Gramophone records were also gaining popularity at this time and many gramophone companies released recordings of songs from company dramas on a series of discs called “drama sets”. Thus, when sound films arrived, a close commercial connection between the gramophone companies and cinema was promptly established. The complete soundtrack of the film Alli Arjuna (1935) was released as a set of seven discs (78 rpm), packaged neatly in a metal box. In fact, some companies—for instance, Orrs Gramophone and Talkies Limited of Madras—also produced films: Vishnu Leela (1938), directed by Raja Sandow, was one such film.
The first talkie with a contemporary setting—“socials”, as they came to be called—was Kausalya produced by the South India Film Corporation, directed by P S V Aiyar and released in August 1935.4 It was a thriller, with a pistol-wielding woman as the chief protagonist, and was made by a group of amateur actors. The second social, The Playboy/Dumbachari, adapted from a popular play of the same name, was released in September 1935. And the third, based on Menaka, also a popular play, was released in December the same year.5
Dumbachari told the story of a playboy who fritters away his wealth on women of ill-repute. Maharajapuram
M R Krishnamurthy played the male lead and P S Rathnabai, the female lead. Samanna, who was known as the Charlie Chaplin of South India, was also in the cast. Menaka was adapted from a novel by Vaduvoor Duraisamy Ayyengar; the dialogue for the film was written by T K Muthuswamy, one of the TKS brothers, whose theatre group was engaged for filming this story. It was in this film that N S Krishnan and T A Mathuram—renowned actors of Tamil cinema—made their debut.
Following the success of these films, more and more were made on contemporary themes, though mythology continued to provide the subject for the bulk of the films. Of the thirty-seven films made in 1937, seven were on contemporary themes; in the next year, there were ten. The socio-political developments in the country was first reflected in films like Child Saint/Balayogini (1936) which criticized caste prejudices.6 In the film, a Brahmin widow seeks refuge in a low caste servant’s house; the Brahmins in retaliation set fire to the servant’s house. The writer of the film, K Subrahmanyam, reinforced existing values, including religious beliefs, but attacked the irrationality of a hierarchical order decided by birth. Nearly all the members of the team, including the director, were Brahmins and this added a measure of authenticity to the anti-caste appeal of the film. Encouraged by the commercial success of Balayogini, Subrahmanyam followed up with House of Service/Sevasadan (1938), a story written originally in Hindi by Munshi Premchand, a Congress sympathizer. It was translated by Ambujammal and was published as a serial in the Tamil weekly Anandavikatan. Noting how well the story was received among the public, Subrahmanyam decided to film it. In this, in addition to reformist ideas, he introduced visuals of nationalistic symbols like the charka and portraits of national leaders.
But it is for The Land of Sacrifice/Thyagabhoomi (1939) that Subrahmanyam is best remembered. Here, he used all the elements he had so far successfully put to use—classical songs, child actresses, reformist and nationalist appeal and a story whose acceptability had already been tested when it appeared in a popular magazine. This story revolved around Sambu Sastri, a Brahmin priest with a Gandhi-like persona, his daughter and a Harijan farmhand, Nallan. Sastri’s progressive ideas and his action in allowing the untouchables to take shelter in the temple after their huts are ravaged by a cyclone, infuriating other priests, leading Sastri to join the freedom movement. In this film, Subrahmanyam handled the theme of the freedom struggle directly. It must be remembered that at the time this film was being made, the Congress had come to power in the Madras presidency; and so there were no restrictions on nationalist propaganda in films.7 The film opened with a song glorifying India and Gandhi and Sastri was hailed as the “Gandhi of Tamil Nadu”. In fact, some of the sequences in the film, like the picketing by Congress volunteers and the marches, were semi-documentary in character.
In Deliverance/Vimochanam (1939) directed by
T Marconi, all the roles were essayed by students of Madras Sangeetha Vidyalaya Girls School. The main thrust of the film was abstinence, one of Gandhi’s programmes for national upliftment.8 The film’s release coincided with the intense temperance propaganda in Tamil Nadu in the wake of the Salem session of the Congress. The story revolved around Arumugam, who sells his wife’s jewels to buy liquor; his family is pushed to the wall. Meanwhile, prohibition is imposed in Salem district; the whole town rejoices. Arumugam tries to brew illicit liquor and is imprisoned. Upon being released, he finds a tea stall in the place of his favourite toddy shop. When he sees his wife has become destitute, he reforms his ways and is united with his family.
As more and more contemporary stories were filmed, some of the issues that engaged the attention of individual filmmakers formed the themes of their work. Westernisation figured in quite a few of these films and it was always portrayed as evil where women were involved. C K Rajagopal’s Dharmapathini (1935) revolved around a socialite and her Anglophile husband. Fortune’s play/Bagyaleela (1938) was about a London-returned, westernised housewife who is adulterous.
Smoking cannabis was an accepted practice in the early Thirties, and this often featured in films as did betel chewing, without any judgmental comments. In the film Tamil Mother or Maternal Duty/Thamizhthai alladhu Mathrudharmam (1939) a group of men sing over a pot session:
Let us put this herb in a pipe and smoke
Let us drive our cares away
Three developments in the mid-Thirties gave a fresh impetus to the further development of Tamil cinema. The first was the setting up of the first sound studio in South India, Srinivasa Cinetone or the Sound City, by A Narayanan in Madras in 1934. This was quickly followed by Meenakshi Cinetone, Vel Pictures and a few other studios. Once the facilities for making a film became available in Madras, filmmakers did not have to travel all the way to Calcutta or Bombay to produce films. They could make them in Madras with editors, sound recordists and other technicians who were conversant with Tamil. This ensured a certain quality in the films they made.
The second factor was the new trend of making films on contemporary issues. Though many of these socials, like Devotion to Husband/Pathi Bakthi (1936), were film versions of successful plays, from the repertoire of company dramas, films were also made on stories that were written exclusively for them, for example Balayogini. The filmmaker had to structure his own mise en scene and a narrative technique that would suit the story; so, a format different from that of theatre was developed. The subjects chosen by these filmmakers were also very relevant to that period; some filmmakers turned their attention to social issues, studied and built their films around them. Thus, the concerns and conflicts of that period came to be featured in these films. The whole country was charged with the nationalist fervour, fuelled by the political activism of the Civil Disobedience movement and as a natural corollary, Tamil cinema benefited from this mood. The nationalists on their part used the press, the stage, the gramophone and the screen to communicate their ideas. As some filmmakers began to tackle these issues, first obliquely and later directly, Tamil cinema acquired a new relevance and respectability.
Thirdly, some filmmakers cast amateur actors in their films mainly because it was cheaper, and also because amateurs were easy to handle. This was yet another step that took Tamil cinema away from the ethos of theatre. Till then, all the actors, song writers and musicians were drawn from the world of commercial drama companies. When non-professionals made their entry, the style of acting obviously underwent a change. Highly stylized acting yielded place to attempts at realistic acting and the accent on songs was reduced. One such early attempt at casting amateurs was in the film The Wedding of Sita/Sita Kalyanam (Tamil, 1933) in which
G K Seshagiri, acting as an agent of V Shantaram, the director of the film, started a trend which later caught on.9 Many of these amateurs were persons who had other professions. For example, K Subrahmanyam’s brother Viswanathan, who played the lead role in Balayogini under the name Vathsal, was a lawyer by profession.
The first two or three decades of this century also witnessed a revival of Tamil language and culture. The work of scholars like R Caldwell and G U Pope on Tamil language and literature in the latter half of the nineteenth century had created tremendous interest in the language. There were other developments which also contributed to this revival. Beginning with Swadesamithran, which was founded in 1880 as a magazine and later became a daily in 1899, around sixty periodicals in Tamil were launched in the next two decades. The rediscovery and publication of Tamil classics of the Sangam period—circa third to fifth century AD—by U V Swaminatha Aiyar in 1900, brought to light a glorious part of Tamil history. V Kanagasabai Pillai’s Tamils 1800 Years Ago, published in 1904, was a part of this process. Somasundara Bharathi’s Tamil Classics and Thamizhagam published in 1912 and M Srinivasa Ayyangar’s Tamil Studies which came out in 1914 greatly added to this interest.10 Poet Subramanya Bharathi’s works brought poetry closer even to the semi-literate and gave a boost to the process of revivalism. To a society that had been humiliated by colonial rule and the attendant cultural hegemony, the nostalgic vision of a glorious past was almost like recompense and was zealously embraced. Gradually this ethos of revivalism began to manifest itself in films.
The writings and ideas of Ramalinga Swamigal alias Vallalar (1823-1874) was one of the motivating forces for Tamil revivalism as well as for the Self-respect movement. He later founded an organization —The Association of Equality, Purity and the Good Way/Samarasa Sutha Sanmarka Sangam— which had branches in many parts of Tamil Nadu. A film based on his life and ideas Jothi or Srimath Ramalinga Swamigal/Jothi alladhu Srimath Ramalinga Swamigal with dialogues by dramatist P Sambanda Mudaliar, was released in 1939. The film included ten songs from Arutpa, an anthology of devotional hymns by Ramalinga Swamigal.11 Baktha Kumanan, also released in the same year 1939—told the story of a legendary king from the Sangam era who was renowned for his generosity.
The twin epics, Silapathikaram and Manimekalai, considered to be the earliest in the history of Tamil literature, were filmed during this period. These two epics are in sequence: Silapathikaram (The Story of the Anklet) revolves around Kannagi and her husband Kovalan. To avenge the injustice meted out to her husband, the enraged Kannagi burns down Madurai, the capital of the Pandyan kingdom. Manimekalai is about the eponymous daughter of Kovalan and Madhavi, a courtesan who eventually becomes a Buddhist nun. The film with dialogues by A A Somayajulu, was made in 1940 and Kannagi, based on the Silapathikaram, in 1942. While Manimekalai is Buddhist in character, Silapathikaram is Jain and the two faiths were popular during the Sangam era.
Thiruvalluvar, the author of Thirukural, an ethical work of 1,330 couplets, is also believed to have lived in the Sangam age. A film on his life, Thiruvalluvar, was made in 1941 with Serukalathur Sama as Valluvar and Tirunelveli Papa as his wife Vasuki. A year later, The Bell of Justice/Araichimani directed by Raja Sandow in 1942, was about a Chola king renowned for his sense of justice. When his son runs over a calf while driving his chariot, the king orders that the prince should also suffer a similar fate and be crushed under the wheels of a chariot.
Poet Bharathidasan, who under the influence of poet Subramanya Bharathi had given up his original name Kanagasubburathinam to call himself Bharathidasan, entered films as a dialogue writer and song writer for Balamani (1937). Bharathidasan, who was a sympathiser of the Self-respect movement— a precursor of the Dravidian parties— worked in other films too, such as Sri Ramanujar (1938), Kalamegam (1940) and Ponmudi. His dialogues and songs were imbued with rationalistic and reformist ideas.
Later, the arrival of dialogue writers like T V Chari and Ilangovan, who wrote flowery lines in chaste Tamil studded with literary allusions, further reinforced the process of Tamil revivalism in films. Ilangovan was identified with a group of writers associated with the Tamil magazine Manikodi who were committed to excellence in literature and other arts in Tamil Nadu and who recognized the possibilities of film as a medium. Ilangovan’s dialogue for Ambikapathi (1937), a story about the eponymous son of poet Kambar, contributed in no small measure to the success of the film. He also wrote the dialogues for Divine Poet/Sivakavi (1943) which was the life story of Poyyamozhi Pulavar. Sivakavi, the protagonist, declares himself a poet who was fed by Thamizhthai (Mother Tamil), and as someone whose life was dedicated to the growth of the Tamil language. T V Chari wrote the dialogue for the film Manonmani (1942), based on Manonmaniyam, one of the earliest of Tamil plays, set in the classical age of the Cheran and Pandyan kingdoms. Written at the turn of the nineteenth century by Sundaram Pillai in verse form after the manner of Shakespearean drama, this play glorified the Tamil language and tradition. Another film Tamil Savant Perumal/Thamizhariyum Perumal (1942) set in the Chola times, told the story of a poetess played by
M R Santhanalakshmi and Nakkiran, essayed by
V A Chellappa, a legendary scholar in the court of the Pandyan king who was known for his zeal in defending and protecting the purity of the Tamil language. Other legendary characters from ancient Tamil Nadu, Karikalcholan and Avvaiyar, were also also portrayed in this film.
By the end of Second World War, as India’s Independence became imminent, and the freedom struggle reached its final stage, we observe that nationalist content gradually disappeared and was supplanted by Tamil consciousness in some films. In Miser/Kanjan (1947), a film dealing with a contemporary theme, the hero sings eulogies to the qualities of the Tamil people:
Of all the people who live on this earth
the Tamils are the best 13
This film was directed by Kovai A Ayyamuthu, a staunch Congress leader and a lieutenant of C Rajagopalachari or Rajaji, who was influenced by the ideas of Ramalinga Swamigal. When I met Ayyamuthu in his village near Coimbatore, I asked him what prompted him to write this song. He thought for a moment and told me that such ideas were very much in the air at that time and that he thought that it would be quite in order to have a song on those lines.14
The apogee of this trend was seen in the film Avvaiyar (1953), a story woven around episodes from the life of the legendary eponymous poetess, whose works are considered to be one of the glories of Tamil literature. Every Tamil child is initiated into the language and culture through her poems. The film is dedicated to Mother Tamil and opens with a song praising Tamil Nadu. Avvaiyar herself symbolizes Mother Tamil and her deity, Murugan, is hailed as god of the Tamils. Other characters from the Sangam age, like king Paari and poet-saint Thiruvalluvar, are also depicted in the film. Gemini Studios was awarded a shield at the 6th Tamil Festival held in Delhi in recognition of its contribution towards the enrichment of Tamil life through this film. The main reason for the success of the film was the manner in which it combined religious appeal with Tamil revivalism. C P Ramasamy Aiyar, then vice-chancellor of Annamalai University, felicitating the makers of this film said, ‘I regard the emergence of this picture as symptomatic of the recurrent, resurgent spirit of the Indian religion asserting itself.’15
The impact of the Second World War in 1939 was very perceptible on Tamil cinema. The popularly elected Congress government, which ruled the Madras presidency, resigned in protest against Britain’s role in the war. As a result, censorship of “politically motivated” films which had been completely removed during the Congress rule, was made stringent, and nearly brought nationalist propaganda in films to an end. Wartime restrictions on the import of raw stock and machinery and rise in the cost of materials slowed down the pace of film production. Added to these, there was petrol rationing, frequent and erratic power cuts and cancellation of railway concessions. Studios closed down or were shifted. Due to the frequent blackouts, shows in cinema houses were cancelled. The war with Japan wiped out the market for Tamil films in Burma and some Far Eastern countries where a sizable Tamil population formed the audience. To regulate the supply of raw stock, the government laid down that the length of each film should not exceed 11,000 feet. As a result, song and dance sequences were drastically reduced. The number of films produced, which was thirty-seven in 1938 came down to fourteen in 1943 and then just ten in the next year.16
On the other hand, as was expected, the government encouraged filmmakers to lace their films with war propaganda. The Director of War Publicity, G T B Harvey, was nominated to the Film Censor Board to ensure that no anti-war sentiments were expressed in any film. It was easier to obtain supply of raw stock if the film supported the war. The government further ruled that at least one out of three films of a production concern should be a “war effort” film and extended cooperation in the making of such films. A few such wartime fictional films were released in 1945.
For instance, Burma Rani (1945), produced by Modern Theatres and directed by T R Sundaram, was about three British-Indian airmen, who, after making a forced landing in Burma, liberate the country from Japanese occupation and eventually escape with the help of some local Indians opposed to the occupation forces. The cast included Honnappa Bhagavathar, K L V Vasantha, N S Krishnan, T A Mathuram and T R Sundaram himself who played the role of a Japanese commandant. The film proved to be quite popular and had dialogues by the renowned Ilangovan, T V Chari and
Ki Ra (Ki Ramachandran). The Hindu in one of its editions commented: ‘Life in Japanese-occupied Burma is realistically depicted.’ 17
Yet another film, Defence of Honour/Manasamrakshanam (1944) directed by K Subrahmanyam and featuring
S D Subbulakshmi and Kali N Rathinam in the lead roles, was about Padmini, a woman from Burma who comes to Madras with a group of youngsters to trace the hide-out of some Japanese agents. She encounters Diraviyam, a call-girl and a Japanese spy. Padmini busts the spy ring and foils Japanese attempts to blow up some British ships in the Madras harbour. Kannamma My Darling/Kannamma En Kathali (1945), made by Gemini Studios and directed by Kothamangalam Subbu, was set against the backdrop of the war; the Japanese invasion of Burma was woven into the story with M K Radha and Sundaribai playing the lead roles.
The government hired some filmmakers to produce short feature films—usually three to eight reelers—to support the cause of the war. A number of such films were made between 1943 and 1946. P S Srinivasa Rao, a leading actor and a film director (Shantha, 1941) made a few in Tamil. Typcially, the propaganda was usually woven into the story and the films were shot in Bombay. W J Moylon, an American who was the manager at Gemini Studios, took over as the Chief of War Publicity in Madras and made a film titled Madras Must Not Burn explaining the work of the Air Raid Precaution Unit and civil defence procedures. Vittal made the film Home Front with Tamil commentary and themmangu (folk)songs, to propagate anti-panic measures in wartime. These were shown in villages through mobile vans fitted with projectors.18 Evidently the Government had realized the power of cinema and endeavoured to use it for propaganda.
Unfortunately none of these films have survived.
Notes
1. Sarvotham Badami interviewed by the author in Bangalore, published in The Hindu, 20 July 1990.
2. The Hindu, 7 March 1939.
3. The Hindu, 7 March 1939.
4. The Hindu, 30 August 1935.
5. Cinema Ulagam (Tamil), 8 December 1935.
6. The lead role of Sarasa, in this film, was played by child actress R Balasaraswathi, who had made her debut in the film Anasuya (Telugu, 1935) and had acted in Baktha Kuchela (1936). Her role in Balayogini brought her fame. She recorded songs for HMV Gramophone Company when she was just
9 years old. Later, she sang in many films as a playback singer. She was the music director for the film
Bilhanan (1948).
7. When the film was revived in 1941 after the resignation of the Congress government, it was banned by the British government. It was only in 1951 that the ban was lifted.
8. There were other westerners who had directed Tamil films. They were Michael Omalev and Ellis R Dungan.
9. " Talkiyin Adhirshtam ", interview with G K Seshagiri, Anandavikatan, November 1936.
10. Christopher Baker, in the introduction to The Message Bearers, (Cre-A, Madras, 1981).
11. Irchick, Eugene F, Tamil Revivalism in the 1930s (Madras, Cre-A, 1986).
12. For more on this, see Richman, Paula, Women, Branch Stories and Religious Rhetoric in Tamil Buddhist Text (New York, Syracuse University, 1988).
13. This song proved very popular. It was broadcast over the radio from Tiruchi, Madras, and Colombo. The gramophone discs were sold in large numbers.
14. Kovai A Ayyamuthu interviewed by the author at Singaram-palayam, Coimbatore, 21 October 1974.
15. Filmfare, 25 December 1953.
16. "Film Industry in 1941" in The Hindu, 6 February 1942.
17. The Hindu, 16 March 1945. Burma Rani was banned for a while due to objections from Buddhists on some scenes shot in a pagoda. It was banned for a second time after Independence as a pro-war film.
18. P S Srinivasa Rao interviewed by the author in Madras, 13 July l975. In Hollywood also, the services of some stars and filmmakers were utilised for war efforts. Hedy Lamarr, Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and Ronald Colman supported the war effort. Frank Capra made a series of propaganda documentaries titled Why We Fight? (1942-44).