Skip to main content

Priya’s Must Watch Movies List

(Warning: a long post)

“Why don’t you write a blog post on Tamil movies that non-Tamil people can enjoy?” Arif asked me the other day, perhaps in a bid to stop me from going on and on about a recent Tamil movie I watched. It was a capital idea. I decided to take out couple of hours from a week that is killing in its work load to write the post. I knew I was going to have fun.

Thank you Anup and Anil for helping me come up with the list!

The Tamil Milieu
“Frank passions of Tamil cinema”, said Nisha Susan in a recent article. How true! Hot headed, vocal, simple, loyal Tamils with centuries of unbroken performing arts tradition embraced cinema as early as 1897. It was the beginning of a long, passionate, earthy love story, making cinema an extension of our identity, a part of our popular culture, intermingling with politics and daily life. 50-feet cut outs are but a small expression of our love. We make countless stars and worship them with pure hearts.

Our whole hearted approval of the form has rewarded us richly. Countless great artists, be it actors, directors, cinematographers, music directors, singers, or technicians have altered our popular culture forever, for the better, IMHO.

But making this list presented a singular challenge: Tamil cinema, as with any regional art form, is steeped in the regional context. In our case, it is 2000-years of experiences, art, and literature. In many ways, our culture has been practically unaltered for centuries. Our form of kadi (morkuzhambu) finds mention in a Sangam poetry. The wedding ceremonies described in an 8th century poem are followed, completely unaltered even today. Almost every phrase, idiom, or pun has a hoary context. It is difficult to imagine anybody enjoying Tamil cinema without this knowledge.

But I have tried. This list is not at all exhaustive – it is purely my personal choice.

Thillana Mohanambal, 1968
Movies like this get made so rarely that it seems totally serendipitous. How else can one explain the happy confluence of almost 20 best actors in Tamil cinema in one glittering movie, supported by a strong delightful storyline (the movie is an adaptation of a novel by Kothamagalam Subbu) and fantastic music?

Set in the turn of 20th century feudal Tanjore and Madurai, it is at heart a tempestuous love story of short-tempered, temperamental nadaswaram (pipe instrument) artist Shanmugasundaram (played memorably by Sivaji Ganesan) and the very talented dancer Mohanambal (Padmini is just awesome). Sparks fly between the two from the first meeting. Through out the movie, they banter, fight, make up, fight again, and finally get married. In the meanwhile, Padmini is battling the nefarious advances of various zamindars and small-time kings who want to set her up as their mistress, while Sivaji is dealing with an attempt on his life.

What makes the movie so entertaining is the ensemble of supporting characters, each etched out perfectly and performed with aplomb. I haven’t seen another movie where so many actors are having a ball! Balaiya as Muthurakkan, the mischievous thavil (drum) accompanist; Nagesh as Vaithy, the oily agent (pimp); Manorama as Jil Jil Ramamani, a minor dancer-turned-drama company owner; A.V.M Rajan as Thangarathinam, Shanmugam’s brother—the list goes on.

Watch it, not for cinematic or technical value, but for the sheer brilliance of performance. It doesn’t get better or bigger than this!

Apoorva Ragangal, 1975
This is a clever film by one of the most prolific and significant directors in Tamil cinema, K. Balachander. Intelligent, opinionated, and fiercely pro-feminist, KB was forever fascinated by people and relations. And this movie perhaps is one of his extreme experiments. This was also the movie in which Rajnikant was introduced.

Prasanna (a very young Kamal Hassan) is a fiery college youth with naxalite leanings. His dad (Major Sundarajan in a difficult role) is disapproving of his ways and hands him over to the police. After getting released, Prasanna walks out of his house, gets involved in a bloody street fight and is rescued by Bhairavi (Srividya) a 40-year old singer. She takes him home. While recuperating, Prasanna falls head over heels in love with Bhairavi, who is 20 years his senior. In the meanwhile, Bhairavi’s estranged daughter Ranjini (Jayasudha) meets Prasanna’s dad by chance and falls in love with him. How does this complex knot unravel is what the rest of the movie is all about.

While this movie has all the standard ingredients of all KB’s movies, such as very clever dialogs, unexpected plot movements, humor, and strong performances, what really made the movie work for me is the palpable chemistry between Kamal Hassan and Srividya (they were rumored to have had an affair which started during this movie) and the way the director milked it.

Watch it to see how a movie can be sexy without skin, heaving breaths, or noisy kisses!

Mullum Malarum, 1978
A debut directorial venture of J. Mahendran, this film combined realism with commercial success. Most notably, this is one of the rare movies in which one could see Rajnikant the actor, as opposed to Rajnikant the star.

Rajnikant is Kali, a poor cable car operator in a mining village. He and his sister Valli (played by the inimitable Shoba) have been orphans from a very young age and are very close. Their stable life is shaken by the entry of the site manager Kumaran (played by the suave Sarath babu) and Manga (Fatafat Jayalakshmi sizzles in the role), a migrant laborer. Kali develops a hatred for Kumaran born mainly out of his angst about the unfair advantage that he thinks Kumaran has over him. Kumaran falls in love with Valli, complicating matters. Ego clashes and hardships follow, all resolving well at the end.

I haven’t seen another movie that explores impotent anger and angst like this movie does. Rajnikant gives such a nuanced, sensitive performance as the man constantly butting his head against an unfair fate, holding on to the dregs of his pride and ego.

Watch this version of the Angry Young Man, who unlike the Big B, doesn’t win with his fists. He keeps losing and only triumphs in his relationships.

Varumayin Niram Sivappu, 1980
The movie title translates to “The Color of Poverty is Red”, which tells you its red leanings. Another gem from KB, this explores unemployment.

It again stars Kamal Hassan (KB’s favorite actor) as the idealistic unemployed youth who doesn’t want to compromise his principles for anything. He arrives in Delhi in search of a job, after vowing to his father that he WILL find a job that suits is character. He meets Sridevi, an impoverished theater artist and they fall in love. But employment proves elusive to the hotheaded idealist who finally settles down to be a barber, which he believes is the only job that enables him to uphold his integrity. The movie ends with him and Sridevi living happily in an abandoned van.

For the uninitiated, Kamal Hassan and Sridevi were the golden on screen pair (Kamal Hassan says that their off screen relationship was that of siblings) acting in several movies together. They come together once again here, giving a great performance, supported by wonderful music.

Watch this for a deglamorized Sridevi who puts her head down and acts, a commodity that became well nigh impossible to find after this movie.

Mudhal Mariyadai, 1985
I consider this artistically the greatest movie in my list. Directed by Bharathirajaa, the man responsible for taking Tamil movies out of the studio and planting it firmly in the mud and dustof villages, this features one of the greatest performances of Sivaji Ganesan.

Sivaji was 58 when he acted in this movie. By this time, he was considered over the hill, his dramatic (sometimes melodramatic) acting style obsolete and highly criticized. Tamil cinema had moved on. And then he puts in a breathtaking performance, reined-in, under-played, and so sensitive that it rendered the audience dumbstruck and awed.

Sivaji plays Malaichami Thevar, the head of a small village somewhere near Madurai. Although he is revered and loved in the village, he is unhappily married to a shrewish wife Ponnatha (played excellently by Vadivukkarasi). Into this life of quiet desperation comes Kuyil (Radha giving the best performance of her career), the young daughter of the boatman. The two connect and eventually fall in love. Their relationship raises eyebrows in the village and is socially awkward. Kuyil commits a murder to protect Malaichami’s honor and goes to jail. Malaichami moves out of his house and starts living in Kuyil’s hut, waiting for her return. But she returns only to his deathbed.

Ilaiyaraja is in his home stretch (he hails from the region) and he uses folk music to its fullest effect. The simple sounding melodies touch your heart, bring tears to your eyes, and make the movie lyrical. Almost every frame of this movie is well thought out, with the director using visual metaphors and music to tell a nuanced tale that is true to the soil and people.

I am very proud of this movie! Watch it for me.

Mouna Ragam, 1986
Here is a little gem of a movie directed by a young Maniratnam, before his national/international pretentions.

Divya (played vivaciously by Revathi) is forced by her family into an arranged marriage to Chandrakumar (Mohan can act!), a Industrial Relations manager in a Delhi-based firm. She hates the marriage and feels alienated in Delhi. Chandrakumar discovers that she is still haunted by the memories of her former lover Manohar (Karthik defined nervous energy before SRK did) who was killed in a police encounter. He was an anarchist activist (erm… looks like Tamil directors love this stereotype). The couple decides to separate on Divya’s insistence, but the court asks them to stay together for a year before separating. Of course Divya eventually lets go of her past and falls in love with her husband, which is what the rest of the movie is about.

The movie is full of Maniratnam touches and is very entertaining. All young girls in Tamil Nadu still fall in love with karthik’s character and want someone like him in their lives. Ilaiyaraja does a bang up job as the music director. P.C. Sriram is the cinematographer and gives a fresh new look to the movie.

Watch this gold standard for love stories.

Vedham Puthithu, 1987
The late 80’s were the zenith of director Bharathirajaa’s career, as this film indicates, which is a look at the caste system.

In an idyllic village in Tirunelveli district, society is clearly divided along the caste lines. Balu Thevar (Satyaraj in his career best role) a prominent man in the village belonging to the Thevar (kshatriya) community, is an atheist and rationalist. His wife is Pechi (a phenomenal performance by Sarita) and his son is Sankara Pandi (Raja), who is studying in the city. In the same village lives Neelakanta Sastri (played by Charuhasan) a poor Brahmin priest. He has a daughter Vaidehi (the beautiful Amala) and a young son Sankaran.

Sankara Pandi, while visiting his parents meets Amala and falls in love with her. Their romance blossoms until Neelakanta Sastri finds out and decides to marry Vaidehi off to a Brahmin. Vaidehi stages her death and runs away. Neelakanta Sastri blames Sankara Pandi and in an encounter, both of them die accidentally.

The boy Sankaran is orphaned. Balu Thevar takes the boy home, causing a major furor in the village. The boy slowly fits into his new home, accepting Balu Thevar and Pechi as his parents. However, villagers believe that this will cause bad tidings and attack Balu Thevar and kill him.

True, it is a movie with a message, but it is an artistic triumph as well. Be it the breathless love scenes, anguished moments of loss of dear ones, or the heart warming moments of the boy discovering love and family once again, the movie is lyrical.

Watch it for Satyaraj and Sarita’s performances.

Thalapathi, 1991
Here is a very interesting interpretation of Mahabharata, set in a modern context. Directed by Maniratnam, the film features strong performances from Rajnikant, Shobana, Srividya, Jai Shankar, and Arvind Swamy.

Surya (Rajnikant) is the prototypical Karna, abandoned by his teenaged unwed mother and sent down the river. He is adopted by a lady living in a slum and grows up to be a goonda. He is discovered by Devaraj (Mammootty), the prototypical Duryodhana, a mafia lord. A great friendship flowers between the two. Surya meets Shubalakshmi (played by the lotus-eyed Shobana) the daughter of a Brahmin clerk. Life is fine until the new collector Arjun (Arvind Swamy) arrives who wants to cleanse the city of the crime. Arjun is of course Surya’s half brother, but nobody knows this. Shubalakshmi is forced to marry Arjun. Surya eventually gets to know that Arjun’s mother Kalyani (Srividya who by this time had moved on to mother roles) is his mother too. In the final encounter, dharma prevails over crime, Devraj is killed, Surya is spared, and is united with his estranged mother.

Ilaiyaraja excels once again. The song “Rakkamma Kaiya Thattu” went on to become the trend setter of item numbers in Indian movies.

Watch this movie for its style, bold interpretations, bizarre homage to Kurosawa in a song sequence, and very credible performances. Two thumbs up!

Thevar Magan, 1992
You might have watched Virasat, starring Anil Kapoor, Tabu and Amrish Puri. Well here’s the original. Written by Kamal Hassan and directed by Bharathan, it was one of the landmark movies in Tamil.

It was also one of Sivaji Ganesan’s last movies. The world was afforded a rare spectacle of two living legends, Sivaji and Kamal, together in one great movie. Revathi is brilliant in her role as the rustic innocent.

Watch this for great performances and a nativity that you might not find in the remake.

Chennai 600028, 2007
This directorial debut by Venkat Prabhu is a surprising film. Low key with unknown actors, it looks and feels like a slick and stylish indie film, although it went on to become a blockbuster.

The milieu of the movie is firmly local – it is the story of a gali-cricket team in a very middle class suburb of Chennai. While the game is a strong presence in the movie, it is essentially a buddy movie, tracing the dreams, loves, fights, and escapades of the team over a period of a year in which they are preparing for the Radio Mirchi gali-cricket tournament.

The movie has its side-splitting moments, such as the bet match they decide to play with a bunch of school boys, where they get thulped out of shape! The movie is clean wholesome fun and is very relatable. It could be happening in your mohalla!

Do watch it for it is the new, stylish, and heart warming voice of Tamil cinema!

Comments

RamG R said…
Interesting list! Though I feel that you are partial to a certain period, which is entirely justified! Personally, I would have loved to see a Nagesh film (though Apoorva Ragangal and Thilana.... provide small snapshots of his unbelievable talent!) Kaadalikka Neramillai?
PriyatRaj said…
Ramji, I consciously tried to keep out movies that were successfully remade in Hindi. You might ask me then how come I included Thevar Magan - well, I am a huge Kamal fan, so couldn't leave it out.
Unknown said…
priya I just love (more now)you for this post.you have touched me in that spot deep in my heart where I secretly hold all these movies so dearly & shed tears whenever I see a bad movie. you can update the same post with some very sensitive parthupan(ammuvagiya naan)& cheran (thavamai thavamirundu) movies . waiting to read new updates
Unknown said…
I'm on the same page as you when it comes to Thevar Magan, Thalapthi and Mouna Ragam. Chennai 28 is one movie that failed to impress. The rest I haven't watched yet - I know it's a shame :)

By the way, I totally love your writing ! You should write more...!
Siddarth Balram said…
hello...I'm glad I found a place appreciating south Indian movies.Many movies from your list,I havn't seen yet,but definitely heard before.I'm also concentrating on a similar subject.Thanks for your efforts.Please also visit http://mustwatchmovieslist.blogspot.com/ .Your remarks will help,I presume.

Popular posts from this blog

Catharsis

How relevant can a play that was first staged in 458 BC and won a goat as a prize in the Festival of Dionysius be to our lives now? I was cynical. Damn it, the hole burnt by the 75 USD I wasted on that completely puerile, award-winning musical on Broadway with a far shorter history still smoked in my purse. But it was a beautiful day outside – sunny and warm after 10 days of gloomy, cold, and wet weather. The play was happening practically next door and was priced at an affordable 14 USD. I’d never watched a Greek tragedy in my life and I had promised Geetha that I would come back and bore him with it. So off I went to watch what I thought was an ambitious presentation of the entire trilogy of Oresteia by Aeschylus by the Bradley University Theater group. Of course I had my reservations: I wondered how were they going to make me care about a story so bloody and unrelatable – hell, the plot outline sounded like a handbook on “How to kill your family and come up with convincin

Sundarbans – The Mystic Vastness

You need to be in a state of preparedness to visit the Sundarbans. I suggest that you wait until you are over 30 and have experienced a few knocks, some heartbreak, and a little disappointment in life. It would help if you had ever searched for anything—God, happiness, truth, yourself. It might also be useful to believe that it is necessary to get lost to find your way. If you are the sort of person who finds music in the sound of the quiet lap of water against the tarred hull of the boat or the metaphor of life in drifting along endless waters on a little vessel, then you are ready for the magnificent mangroves. Because the Sundarbans is not for the weekend holidayers, the types who would want to drink beer, scratch their bum/crotch/head/something, throw plastic and Styrofoam into the water with impunity, and hope to get laid. I only hope that the crocodiles that eat them would not develop indigestion. It is important to find the right tour guide for the Sundarbans, as we did. Bi

The Messy, Boozy, Bro-y, Funny World of Tamil Movie Heartbreak

Season of Love It seems like every young person in the 16 – 22 age group in Tamil Nadu is in love—with someone unacceptable to their parents. They are expressing their feelings vocally and dramatically, through TV music channels, FM channels, friends, WhatsApp and other social media. They are shaking up the very fundamentals of societal structures and hoary traditions. They are eloping or standing up to opposition; they are marrying in police stations, registrar offices and temples. Some end tragically, but a lot of them seem to be thriving, as parents are resigning to the new order. Sociologists might talk in terms of social mobility, aspirations, westernization, urbanization et al. Be that as it may, every time I call home, I hear one more story. Of clandestine actions, dramatic proclamations, and cinematic gestures. And Tamil movies—that bastion of “ energetic physicality and frank passions ”—supply the voice, plot, lyrics and music for these micro-epics unfolding in

"Low Life Fictions" of Sadat Hasan Manto

My auto came to a halt atone of the dusty, grimy, grey traffic signals that dots the Mumbai suburban landscape. It was just another Mumbai road moment, the air vibrating with the restless thrum of the million engines carrying a million impatient people to their various destinations.  A dusty, grimy, grey street child was making the rounds of the waiting vehicles, begging. He was so small that any smaller, he would have been mistaken for the million bandicoots that live under the pavements and sewers. He was begging the way street children are perhaps taught in their Fagin’s academy—touching the passengers, knocking on the raised car windows, his tone whining and pitiful. He approached an auto containing two teenage girls. As he tried to touch them, one of the girls shrieked in a tone colored by disgust and fear, “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” The little child, as like some of us around, was taken aback by the violence of her words. Just then the signal turned green

Labels

Show more