Pauly Valsan: I was in Class 10 when I first acted with Mammookka

I was fascinated by art as a child. I got into drama while in Class 6 – the first one was based on a story that appeared in Balarama. There was a theatre club near our school, and they approached our teachers saying they needed a child artist for a drama. I was picked.

I was excited about getting decking up and acting on a grand stage. But there was a hurdle: my father had to agree. He was a fisherman with conservative notions. My teacher, however, gave a letter and helped me get his permission. He said yes, as the venue was nearby. I would diligently go for rehearsals in between my classes.

However, when more groups expressed interest in casting me, my father said no. After Class 6, I went to another school in Elamkunnapuzha. Students there were very active in drama and other arts. They used to win prizes at youth festivals. My passion for theatre got rekindled. I gathered some friends and performed a play in that school. We eventually went on to secure the first prize at the youth festival. It was the first time girls were acting in a drama there. We breached the boys’ bastion at the school.

Initially, he was happy, as it was a school activity. Things changed when I reached Class 10. I received offers, but my father refused, citing that there was no one at home to accompany me for the plays. I, however, was more interested in arts than studies. So, once I agreed to a local drama and went for rehearsals without informing him. The troupe offered me Rs 5 for the role. I, however, refused it as I was nervous about the commitment.

On the day of the play, I told my father that I would be staying at my uncle’s house. The costume was a half-sari and blouse, and I arranged that from a nearby house. The first scene was my entry. And as I entered the stage, I saw my brothers sitting in the front row of the audience! I was hesitant to perform after seeing them. They were laughing seeing my distress.

After some time, my father arrived there. He yelled at me and the troupe members. However, some seniors calmed him down and got his permission to finish the play. I scooted immediately after my role. Now I am reminded – they didn’t pay the Rs 5 that had been offered!

I went on a hunger strike at home. My aunts, who had recognised my passion, eventually convinced my father. One of my aunts used to accompany me to the shows. Over the next couple of years, I did amateur drama. That’s how I landed at Antony chettan’s (National Award-winning actor and theatre legend P J Antony) house. I was in his troupe for five years. [Actor] Thilakan chettan was part of it at that time.

I can’t express how beautiful it was. There was a unique spirit among them. The environment was strict. Antony chettan was particular about actors byhearting their dialogues. Rehearsals followed a set regimen. A bell would ring, and the stagehand would simulate the raising and lowering of the curtains.

It felt like being back in school. He even had the Malayalam alphabet written on a blackboard to ensure everyone pronounced the words correctly. Those were truly wonderful memories.

He was with Antony chettan for 11 years. It was a challenge to match his intensity on stage. We acted together in popular plays such as Ramarajyam, Kaalarathri, and Socialism. When I was 19, I played the role of the 75-year-old wife of Thilakan chettan’s character in one of the plays.

I also remember doing some politically charged plays with him during the Emergency. Even Shammi (Thilakan) used to hang around with us; he was a child then. I still remember an incident. Shammi, in childish innocence, once asked aloud on a set: “What’s the meaning of the word ‘thay**i’! Antony chettan was stunned. The poor boy had heard someone use the profanity. There are so many such memories from that era. Later, I moved to [actor] Kalasala Babu’s troupe.

Kaalarathri had significant political relevance, with the incidents and storyline being based on real events of the Emergency era. Antony chettan would have piles of newspapers, and scripting was done based on real reports. So, when we portrayed certain political leaders, including K Karunakaran, we never knew if we would receive applause or face stone-pelting. We had faced threats. But no matter what, the show would go on.

There was a turning point in my life. I got married to a person I loved; he was my neighbour. My father couldn’t accept it because of caste issues. My mother-in-law could not accept me as well. I was not aware of the seriousness of a marriage. I went with him [husband] to honour my promise of love. Struggle followed, as he was also young and did not have a steady job. After a couple of months, I got back on the stage as we needed income to survive. He was interested in arts and used to write. He backed my return to the stage. I acted even while carrying my first child.

Antony chettan also gave me confidence. He assured me that, with people like N N Pillai sir and himself backing me, I will never have to look back in my life. Antony chettan was a father-like figure for me.

I never got the chance. I always wanted to meet him. One day, I saw his car, and I rushed to greet him. As I neared his vehicle, I saw that he was sleeping, so I stood there, just watching him. All I wanted was a glimpse of him.

Later, after the release of the film Godfather, Pillai sir came to watch Ammini Travels Pvt Ltd, a play in which I was acting, in Kottayam. After the show, he came backstage and asked for me. He lauded my performance and said, “I heard you came to see me once. Why didn’t you wake me up?” I froze in excitement.

No. One advantage of working in theatre is that most of the team members are contemporaries. If anyone misbehaves, we can address it immediately. Such incidents usually result in the person responsible for the issue being removed. That said, I have always been against workplace romances, especially between lead actors portraying the hero and heroine, as it can jeopardise the long-term success of the play – their priorities change. So, whenever I noticed such developments, I would promptly alert the producer (laughs).

Not at all. Nobody ever knew I was behind it. I maintained good relations with everyone. Perhaps now, if any of those who are still alive read this interview, they might realise the truth (laughs).

On a serious note, I have never had any enemies. At the end of the day, goodness begets goodness. However, I once slapped a woman in my neighbourhood. She used to ridicule me with crass jibes on my morality whenever I returned home after a play. One day, I confronted her – I just gave it to her. I had been enduring all kinds of struggles to make ends meet at that time, shuttling between home and stages.

Oh yes, I used to be crazy about films and actors. Buying the Nana magazine and watching films were regular rituals. I would urge the organisers of dramas to invite cine artists to watch our plays so that I could see them in person.

At that time, several drama writers had started working in films. I, however, never really thought about entering the cinema. There was no time to even consider it because theatre was my world. There were years when I performed for 330 days. I didn’t have the privilege of setting aside theatre and my responsibilities to chase film dreams. I didn’t have anyone to look after my children. It was a long period of struggle.

In fact, I was invited to be part of two films Utsavam and Rasaleela (both 1975). The latter starred Kamal Hassan. I had turned them down because I was scared. Cinema was an unknown space for me and I wasn’t ready to take the leap at that time.

The artists of Vypeen had formed a group called the Vypeen Artists Welfare Association (VAWA). The collective staged a mega show for the first time. As playwright Benny Nayarambalam, who’s from Vypeen, had a mark in the film world by then, several cine artists attended the show. [Actor] Siddique, who is also from the area, was also present. He remarked that despite me being part of several hit dramas, I hadn’t achieved the recognition I deserved as an artist. Benny was saddened on hearing this. That’s when he cast me in Annan Thampi.

At first, I wasn’t keen on accepting. It was actually my children who pushed me to take the offer, especially since the script was by Benny, who was at the peak of his career at that time. I told Benny I didn’t want to play a negligible role like that of a passerby standing near a public tap. I had been part of several successful dramas, and I knew that if the people of Vypeen found out I took on an insignificant role, they would mock and ruin my peace (laughs). But, Benny reassured me. That’s how I made my entry into cinema — with one line in a sequence alongside Mammookka and Suraj (Venjaramoodu).

Yes, we had acted together in the early ’70s, when he was studying at Ernakulam Law College. I was in Class 10 then. In our locality, there’s a person named Chinnan, and he wrote two dramas featuring Mammootty – Sabarmathi and Andholanam.

He remembered me, and also mentioned me in an interview, about acting with me in Sabarmati. Mammookka still has a photo from the drama set.

During the shoot of Annan Thambi, I didn’t approach him because I thought he wouldn’t remember me. After I delivered my dialogue, Mammootty commented, “I think I know her.”

Then [actor] Siddique replied, “That’s Pauly chechi.” Mammootty then recalled to everyone on the set that we had acted in a drama together.

He then asked me, “Why didn’t you have a word with me earlier?” I replied, “I was worried whether you would remember me.’ Mammootty laughed and said, “I remember and recognize everyone….” We ended up chatting for an hour. He later gave me tips to improve my scene as well.

After that, I did another film, thanks to Benny’s recommendation. Later, I played a role in Rajeev Ravi’s Annayum Rasoolum (2013). After that, Soubin (Shahir) recommended me to Amal Neerad for a segment in the anthology film 5 Sundarikal (2013), which was well-received. Since then, I have been getting regular opportunities. Now, I am about to start my 104th film.

The actor who was supposed to play the elderly woman’s role in Saudi Vellakka was down with Covid. The production was struggling to find a replacement. The cameramen suggested his grandmother, Devi Varma. She was 85, and had never acted before. She, however, did a superb job, blending with the character. However, she just could not get the Kochi slang right. That’s when they approached me. I was reluctant initially, as I had never dubbed for anyone else. But it was [drama artist] I T Joseph, a key figure helping Kochi artists to get roles in films, who had asked me. So, I agreed. People could identify right from the first scene that it was my voice (laughs).

I got the role by chance, again through I T [Joseph]. They had initially cast a junior artist for the role. And it was a minor role, just to cry during the funeral. But Lijo didn’t like her performance, and they started looking for a replacement. Lijo was furious, I heard.

Then I got a call close to midnight. They asked me to join the film the next morning. Lijo liked my performance, and decided to extend my role. The shoot lasted for 18 days. Kainakary Thankaraj, who acted as my husband in the film, commented as we wrapped up that I would get an award that year. I had laughed it off.

(Laughs) There is indeed a unique way of crying at funerals in Kochi. I have heard my grandmother crying like that. Also, as a child, if someone in my village died, I would visit the house and cry with the family. I would accompany visitors, and again cry with them. In this film, I had to cry for 11 days. That came naturally. Such things come from within.

Then I had to again cry for the dubbing. On the last day, Lijo hugged me saying, “Chechiye sammadhichu tto (I have to give it to you!)!” Credit for the crying goes to my hometown. But nowadays, people seem too shy to cry in the traditional way (laughs).

Yes. The character was living with a man so cruel. It’s unimaginable. The dialogues in it were so cutting, you just start feeling them in your gut.

I am reminded about such a moving role I played with Thilakan chettan. In it, his character marries a 12-year-old girl. That was my role. In her old age, she gets paralysed. Their children abandon them. There is one scene where she asks whether she is a burden for him. Then Thilakan chettan’s character replies: “In our initial days, I used to carry you around when no one was looking, now let me do it again….” I still remember the intense way in which Thilakan chettan delivered the dialogue. Both of us wept during the scene. Some roles and dialogues are like that.

I have noticed that playing mother roles in the new generation is a bit challenging these days. These types of roles are quite different from what I used to do. However, I have performed well in various roles, and there are interesting scripts currently in development. More films are on the way, including a role in Biju Menon’s new film Avarachan & Sons.

There are talented actors capable of delivering exceptional performances, but we need to be conscious of creating opportunities for them. I believe there is a noticeable lack of well-written, strong characters, particularly for women. Unlike earlier times, when actors like Sukumari or Philomina brought small but memorable roles to life with their extraordinary performances, such roles are increasingly rare today.

Yes, I recently played a small role in an Asif Ali movie titled Rekhachithram, an investigative thriller. By the end of the scene, the crew clapped. Asif insisted on keeping the scene intact without any cuts.

I have never turned down a shoot just because it involves only a single dialogue. Yesterday, at a programme, people asked me to deliver my dialogues from the movies Guppy and Kattappanayile Rithwik Roshan. Similarly, the dialogue ‘Kshama venam, samayam edukkum’ in Drishyam 2 became meme material, though it was meant to be a serious line.

He was very nice. In fact, all the current stars Asif, Tovino (Thomas), Kunchako (Boban) are nice, innocent fellows. They respect seniors, and don’t discriminate. I have done three-four films with Tovino. Prithviraj is another gem. He helps improve our performance, no matter how small the scene is. I experienced that while doing Adam John.

No. I am a theatre artist. If I don’t get film roles, I will continue doing theatre.

Sometimes, during events organised by Mathruvedhi or the church. I am also planning a solo theatre performance. The play, written by Babu Pillassery, runs for about 45 minutes. My son, who is a music teacher, handles the music.

I am from Vypeen, which shares the shoreline with Munambam. The group Vypeen. Artists’ Welfare Association often takes up social issues. It is not a politically driven gesture. I have taken part in several demonstrations in the past – even for direct buses to and from the city. We [people of Vypeen] have got several basic necessities such as bridges and even drinking water through strikes.

Currently, I have been knocking on the doors of authorities for a pathway to my house. The area still gets flooded, and most pathways get slushy. I had raised this matter with the chief minister as well. However, action is awaited.

Many dream roles (laughs). I am game for anything.

I am confident that I can slay any role – serious, comedy or negative. Even romance – oldies’ romance. Why not (laughs)?