Watched the Last Show of "Ponniyin Selvan" with Our Elder Generation.

My generation of youngsters in our family wanted to treat the elder ones with a movie - a modern cinematic experience for some who had stopped going to the cinema after Prakash Rao's Vasantha Maligai in the 1970s. They would experience a full AC theatre with an extended screen, Dolby digital surrounding sound, comfy seats and one of the latest Kollywood movies, Ponniyin Selvan, by the versatile and award-winning film director Mani Ratnam, on the 24th of October 2022 at Shanthi Theatre, Batticaloa. This night's 10:30 show was the last time this movie was being screened.

All uncles, aunts, periyappas, chiththappas, chinnammas, periyammas, mamas and mamis, everyone was invited and told that we would treat them with a movie. Indeed, teenagers and children had their own claim of free entry included in this initiative. And yes! After days of convincing and assured transport arrangements for the late-night return to their homes (literally midnight), a decent list of film fans was prepared.

The diplomacy we used to make many of them nod their heads after so many refusals was the trick of wisely playing the card of "do you remember Kalki's story, Ponniyin Selvan? It's in the theatres as a film! Fancy watching it?" Bright smiles suddenly rose on the faces of some of them. They were probably excited about two things - first, they would go to the theatre after decades, and second, they would meet some of their favourite Kalki characters and landscapes that they had only read and imagined with awe in their younger days.

Despite the thrill that arose, some of them even felt awkward coming to the theatre. Was it because going to the theatres in their younger days was a taboo? Or was it that the only people they remembered going to theatres in their days were the loud whistling and hooting young boys who go wild and uncontrollable in the theatres either at the entry of their hero on screen or while the hero gets bashed up by the villain just before the climax? I couldn't guess that. But they indeed felt out of their way to go to the theatre. We had to again convince them by making them aware that some of their friends with the same thoughts were making it to watch this film which carries this epic story they had always admired.

Seeing our elder ones excited about coming to the theatre for a late-night show was pleasant. Many preferred to be casually dressed, while some came dressed in their homely attires. Some of them were surprised and thrilled to meet their friends who had also made it to this show with their children. Even as we waited in the queue outside the theatre, there was a friendly exchange of their 'gone are the days' memories of borrowing Kalki's Ponniyin Selvan from the public library. Some even mentioned that they had been expecting this adaptation from the veteran actor Sivaji Ganesan's era. We could notice the thrill on their faces. Sadly, they had to bear the hard path of standing in a pressing and forcing queue that wanted to anyhow make it inside the theatre before the sunset of this movie in the theatres.

I was personally worried! I was more worried about the magnanimity of the modern screenplay, the high definition of the visuals and the bombing of the mega sound effects. Knowing very well the severe exposure of war and calamity that the film-maker's cameras had witnessed and the clarity of work that had gone behind Rahman's musicians and the foley artists, I somewhat worried that some of these Uncles and Aunts may not be ready for the shocks. "This is going to be too much for them," I thought. They had been enjoying cinema only with the mono theatre speakers that somehow exposed M S Viswanathan's hard work on the multi-layers of his music in the earlier decades. Now it will be a sound calamity right before them.

Moreover, the clarity of exposure to the latest visual effects was my next worry. They had only seen fights being enacted. When fight scenes were projected in their days, they knew that there was acting. Gone are the days when harm, murder, death and sexual encounters were left for the viewer's imagination and not explicitly on the screen. These are the same people with whom we always watch movies at home with the remote's 'forward' or 'skip' buttons ready in our hands! And here we were, climbing the stairs to the theatre's balcony. I, for a moment, looked at them like cattle taken to the cinema gallows. This is the transformation of the film-making industry and the cinematic experience of our times.

All were well settled and thrilled in their reserved seats. I noticed them complaining about the freezing airconditioning, and their blankets and shawls came out for their duties from their bags that had coins, water bottles, Vicks balms and paracetamol tablets. The theatre lights began their slow fade away. The movie began with its grandeur, introducing the ones who had invested their money and talents in the big-scale movie. Dr Kamal Hassan's voiceover, narrating the movie's introduction, gave the much-needed momentum. They were all absorbed into the plot already. I just turned to my left and right, front and behind, and watched them with anxiety. Maybe they thought the entire movie would be a mellow narration of a beautiful epic historical adventure. And then...

There was that silent fog... That lethargic cloud of suspense, I want to call it... Slowly moving across the screen, which I waited for... And out of that fog came the Crown Prince of the Chola Empire, Aditha Karikalan, with an enraged face and a charging hard-metal sword. Instead of watching the grandeur of the cinematic work before me, I watched the plight of every one of our Uncle and Aunt who was in a state of shock, just throwing themselves into the world of war, calamity and banging of hard metals, animals, human flesh and blood. The digital surrounding sound added to their SOS situation. And then, slowly, they were immersed into a world they had never expected. The song, "Ponni Nadhi Paarkkanume..." came in as the comforter and trendsetter, putting them into a modern track of movie watching on which their railway coaches of senses enjoyed every bit of shock and surprise in the movie.

While they enjoyed the screenplay, the songs added to the cinematic experience. I noticed that most of my aunts were thrilled at the display of colours at the various points of the movie. Uncles had stern faces throughout. Some were disappointed by the absence of the much-expected song "Yaarendru sol." The frolic and fuss of Kundavai, the Princess of the Chola Empire, with her maids at the river bank would have added to the majestic storyline of the oriental eyes and ears. As the Tamil cinema actress with the longest shelf life in the industry, Trisha had done what was expected of her in the movie. But I am assured there would have been a solid reason for the versatile director to keep the song away, much to the disappointment of even many youngsters who looked forward to the song's visuals right from the audio-launch days of the movie. However, I felt the director was forced to release it later, maybe for my guess, after the Vikkals of Vikkram youtube channel took a comic take on the song.

Adding to this, the scenes believed to be Lanka brought a bit of hullabaloo within the silent theatre. Not knowing the scenes were shot in Thailand, the older ones made a fuss about the whereabouts of these landscapes in Sri Lanka. "Ithu enna ilangaiyaa? Ithu enga irukku inja? Intha malai ellaam ilangaila irukkaa? Thondaimaanaaru enga?" Later, I realised that some of them had done some preparational studies before the movie, and they had come expecting to see Sri Lanka in it! Sadly, the director had gone searching for Lanka in another land. In the disappointment of this, some of them totally forgot to appreciate Poonguzhali and Vanthiyathevan on the boat.

Interestingly, as the movie was nearing the end, I was lost in enjoying the storyline of the movie, all the way into the depths of the Indian ocean's waters, the movie announced its end while providing a glimpse of the next episode to be released soon. Sadly, as the credits began and when the lights came on, I realised almost all of them were fast asleep! We had to put them up one by one. In straightforward terms, it was "too much" for them! The severity of the modern cinematic work that has found its specialities and expertise in every little aspect has become a theatrical experience that the older generation cannot adhere to or savour their cinematic flavours. In the end, they had their own opinions about the adaptation itself.

However, Mani Ratnam's "Ponniyin Selvan" brought back the grandeur of Kalki's work. It has also influenced the younger generation to acknowledge and feel the power of literature, especially in Tamil, to create a world and history of its own. It was the last show, and we made it with those who needed this treat. Thanks to my cousins.

"Ponni Nadhi Parkkanume" song