Exploring the ideology of Mani Ratnam's Iruvar (1997).

 IRUVAR

by

Mani Ratnam

Anand's first taste of 'power'.

There is a scene, almost at the end of the film Iruvar, when Anand (Mohan Lal) and Tamil Selvan (Prakash Raj) sit beside each other at a wedding. Anand is the interim chief minister of Tamil Nadu and Tamil Selvan is the leader of the opposition, but they share a bond that roots in a time much prior to their political careers and rivalry. There's literally no dialogue between those two except for each glancing at the other when the former isn't (or pretending not to). Don't mistake that to be a death stare, it is actually the look that we put on when we meet a person whom we dearly loved but really dislike at present, someone who was once very close, who still is someone you really care about but you're restricted to express that by your own mind as a result of some unexplainable tension. And if the film had hit you right, you'll have your heart crushed by this particular scene. Such is the brilliance of Iruvar. Which I would dub as the "most perfect South Indian film yet".

The film starts off with a short prologue with a young kid staring out of a train window and smiling at something that he found amusing. This brings a sense of awe and a child-like curiosity to the film's opening, and there's a very good reason, why I think the film begins with this very shot. You'll understand the genius when you finish watching the entire film and compare the first shot with the final shot. It's a full circle which traces the entire life of a man. Such a delightful premise. 

"The beginning of a beautiful friendship."

We then cut to Anand; a young man who at present is a struggling actor in Madras of the early 1940s, who by virtue of the script and hence his characterisation wears a white shirt and a white dhoti. After several attempts, he gets cast as a leading actor in a feature film. His meeting with Tamil Selvan, the film's dialogue and lyric writer who wears a black top is a scene that speaks volumes and if you observe carefully, it lets the entire movie out. It's one of the most wholesome scenes ever made. The production design (with the black and white courtyard,) the triumphant background score by A. R. Rahman, the camera movement & lighting by Santosh Sivan, and the blocking by Mani Ratnam intertwine to create a moment of brilliance. You can't produce a scene as righteous to acknowledge the beginning of a friendship like this one. A friendship that is going to change the world. A friendship between two completely different worlds, beliefs, and ideologies. Anand is clearly elated and talks like a happy kid, Tamil Selvan speaks in poetry, and Anand is much much amused and elated by it, he even confesses that he doesn’t always agree with what Selvan preaches through his poetry but he loves the way Selvan puts it. Now that’s just 5 minutes of a film that is consistently brilliant throughout its runtime.

Anand & Pushpavalli.

Tamizh Selvan & Senthamarai.

The contrasting ideologies are further explored through the women in their lives at different points in time. Their goals and aspirations change when they're with different women. Sometimes, they have aspirations that are analogous to the past which is beautifully suggested through the use of dual-screen roles, I've never seen such intelligent use of this prop, never before or ever after. The honeymoon period of Anand's first marriage coincides with the production of his first film and when his wife dies an untimely & sudden death of some fatal fever, this coincides with this film being abruptly shut down due to bankruptcy. She is relatively progressive & confident when compared to Tamil Selvan's first wife, whom Selvan pushes to be more liberal and radicle. His first marriage coincides with his political rise and we note his radical ideas for the good of all "dravidas". When Tamil Selvan meets Senthamarai (Tabu), who falls for his poetry and ideologies, in a scene that is staged unbelievably well and marries her, his political aspirations change, he wants to hold power more than anything else and so the friendship starts to strain. This again is communicated by a repetition: two scenes that feel like Deja Vu, staged deliberately so, the ones with very different intentions and reactions, though. I was euphoric noticing this. Right from that moment, their ways start to just drift apart, even though their goal is still the same. We can also blame the people around them for this, but the film blames one another, and rightly so, after all, it's their minds that do this. Even then the film doesn't start painting them white or black, they are just people doing what they feel must be done at that point in time and each one of them regrets hurting the other. But. They feel it is inevitable. 

The entire film is shot on a 4:3 frame. That's another of the many qualities which makes Iruvar so very special. It's always about these two in the frame, there isn't much negative space. For a film that is as aesthetic, most of the frames just stage Anand and Selvam together, until they drift apart (and meet again in the penultimate scene I've talked about in the beginning). This makes them look intimately close and you always feel a void when the other isn't there. The cinematography by Santosh Sivan is a momentous achievement, a work that is so ahead of its time, even the present. No frame or the colour in it is digitally rendered, everything was manipulated through camera and lighting and to make things more worship-able, a lot of the film is shot in natural light! You have to watch some frames to believe that they were actually made. He captures those trains & mirrors so well that you start getting obsessed with things that Mani Ratnam cares about. This splendid camera work is complemented by an unbelievable production design. We can talk for days just about the production design and the lighting in the film. These combined with a score from A. R. Rahman, which is rousing, heartwarming, heartbreaking, and heart-melting make every emotion visceral and vivid. You can not look away, you can not deny the euphoria of a triumph or the sorrow of a downfall. All the disciplines just fit gorgeously well, like the pieces of a jigsaw. It's another film where you feel so grateful to the editor for making things so palpable. The timing of the cuts is perfect. Shots are cut when it's mandatory and not cut when you must be absorbed into one, the camera just rolls.

In revolutionary love.

In a film as such, the only aspect I couldn't enjoy as much I must've is the music videos. The film is almost a 'musical', major chunks of the story are narrated through music videos. Not montages, music videos. Though it works most of the time, some feel untimely and don't fit well. There's that, and I also feel that the way each woman felt about the other in her husband's life could be explored a bit deeper, but as the film is more focussed on the minds of its male leads and only offers their perception, I can't question this as strongly. But it would've been nice. Another aspect of this film with uncountable layers and subtexts. 

There are only a few films that endured time so well and continue to inspire generations of filmmakers like Iruvar does. It is an epic in every sense. Emotional magnitude, scale, performances, music, set design & cinematography, you name it. But it is heartbreaking that this is not the first film that is talked about when someone discusses Mani Ratnam, which is the auteur's magnum opus, and the fact that it bombed at the box office at the time of its release. Having said that, it is more than assuring to realize that the film found its audience and attained a cult classic status and it wouldn't be wrong to assume that the love for this picture will only increase.