Nadigaiyar Thilagam Review: A well-made biopic that’s in love with its subject
A perfect and poetic portrayal of Savitri, sans the unnecessary track of Samantha
In a film about an extramarital affair, an actor’s descent into alcoholism, and the opportunistic nature of people, the biggest shock is perhaps that Nadigaiyar Thilagam (Mahanati in Telugu) marketed itself as a bilingual. By now, we have been trained by enough ‘bilinguals’ not to expect artistes to mouth all the lines in Tamil. We can make our peace with a fair bit of Telugu-speaking by the artistes à la Baahubali. Nadigaiyar Thilagam though doesn’t even bother for the most part. Keerthy Suresh and Dulquer — who are excellent in their portrayal of actors Savitri and Gemini Ganesan — seem to have been shot speaking only in Telugu. A particularly offensive moment is the recreation of the beautiful ‘Malarndhum Malaraadha’ from Pasamalar. The audio is Tamil, but Keerthy Suresh is mouthing the Telugu lines of the song. Among the rewards of a biopic is the chance to relive the landmark moments of a personality, but this language issue totally ruined what otherwise would have been a rousing scene. It’s worth remembering that Pasamalar was in fact the original, and its Telugu counterpart, Raktha Sambandham, the remake. So, yes, you will do well to sign up for a dubbed film, not a bilingual.
Cast: Keerthy Suresh, Dulquer, Vijay Devarakonda
Director: Nag Ashwin
Sign up also for a pretty long film that’s almost three hours long. These days, you can catch a palpable sigh of frustration when the censor certificate shows that a film is as long. But thankfully, director Nag Ashwin’s love for the material really shines through. By the end, you realise what an unenviable job he must have had, given how action-packed the life of Savitri was. In hindsight, he could have well been justified making a two-part film: One about her rise, and the other about her fall, given how fascinating both phases are.
Nag Ashwin’s objective of making this film doesn’t seem to have been just the desire to familiarise people about the life and times of Savitri. It seems to have been to get you becoming her fan, to have you sympathise with the tough hands her life supposedly dealt her. From the first scene, when Savitri is found lying unconscious on her bed, there’s a literal aura in the shots. Sometimes, it’s lights in the background. Sometimes, it’s a setting sun. In one scene in the theatre, it’s light from a projector. Nag Ashwin couldn’t have made it clearer that Nadigaiyar Thilagam deems Savitri to have been an angel descended from above, and a hapless victim of her circumstances. She’s shown to be a munificent spirit who can scarcely come to terms with the dark world she’s inhabiting — one full of ungrateful people and opportunists. In one scene, a character tells her as much. I’d have enjoyed the tragedy of her story a lot more had I not felt the maker’s hands on my back, pushing me to sympathise with the misfortunes of this almost celestial being. Is it even a surprise then that when she’s rapturously in love with Gemini Ganesan, and you get the dreamy Mouna Mazhayile, the visuals show her climbing on a literal ladder into the skies and beyond.
It’s heartening what a terrific opportunity this story is for a female actor, and Keerthy Suresh truly makes the most of it. The film’s mounted on her role, and she really sells Savitri, both the wide-eyed innocence during the early stages and the fragility as she spiral into self-destruction towards the end. Dulquer’s as strong in the film too — he plays Gemini Ganesan unapologetically, and humanises him by portraying all his supposed charm and vulnerability. The writing, his casting and performance all unite to stop Gemini Ganesan’s character from getting villainised, and I’m really glad for that. Despite him being a substantial reason for the heroine’s fall, despite his womanising ways, you aren’t encouraged to hate him. That’s an apple Nag has done a great job refusing.
I wish he had done the same with the alcohol scenes, especially the first one. It’s portrayed almost as an encounter with the devil. The staging, the music, is the equivalent of the makers going, “OMG!” If it had been more understated, I dare say that the scene would have registered more deeply. The film’s also guilty of being pro-Savitri, and that, of course, is a problem with most of our biopics. Nadigaiyar Thilagam could have done with more problematising. In showing you Savitri’s discomfort when she first steps into Ganesan’s house, it stops you from realising she’s hardly the affected party — not in comparison with Ganesan’s first wife anyway. In emphasising all her benevolence, it stops you from truly being annoyed with her alcoholism and bad parenting. In a film less charmed by her, I’d have loved to have been given the opportunity to make up my mind about Savitri.
And oh, if you are wondering why this review hasn’t yet mentioned Vani (Samantha) or Antony (Vijay Devarakonda) — who play characters that help the Savitri story unfold — it’s because they are wholly unnecessary, and serve only as annoying distractions. Perhaps the film needn’t have been 170 minutes after all.