Parasakthi Movie Review: The revolution shall not be whispered

Parasakthi is a flickering candlelight trying to replicate the roaring fire of the anti-Hindi imposition movement, one of the most pivotal moments in Tamil Nadu history. It is no doubt a monumental task to portray the origins of a movement that remains relevant to this day. But what good is a morsel when you are promised a meal? If the film gets one thing inarguably right, it is how it dismisses the most recurring slander against the movement at the outset: it is not against Hindi or Hindi speakers but against the administrative imposition of the language. We hear it repeated more than thrice throughout various points in the film. Director Sudha Kongara takes great pains to make sure that the film does not villanise any language or community. A commendable task. If only a fraction of that effort and nuance also went into portraying the inner world of those who fought for language rights, Parasakthi would have been impactful.

Director: Sudha Kongara

Cast: Sivakarthikeyan, Ravi Mohan, Atharvaa, Sreeleela

Sure, we do get lofty monologues about how a language shapes culture, thought, and by extension our consciousness, the staggering historical significance of the centuries-old Tamil-Brahmi script, and how Hindi imposition unfairly pushes back the non-Hindi speakers in the employment race. But the student protesters leap onto the screen as cookie-cutter “revolutionaries”, with their impulsive attitude and cheesy dialogues. Even overlooking the formulaic characterisations, there is a dismal artificiality pervading every aspect of the film. Every time a supporting character acts too happy to be there or is too eccentric, you know they are going to die a horrible death to inject a new batch of motivation directly into our hero’s veins.  Every time Sivakarthikeyan’s Chezhiyan gives an emphatic speech to his brother or a fellow protester, he has to yank them by their neck and deliver the lines. The film is mainly set around Madurai and Trichy, but there is only a faint hint of the regional accents. Parasakthi seems to be in love with its early 60s setting, but for all the wrong reasons. Since retro fashion is apparently making a comeback, there is not much to make you immerse in the period setting, unless you squint really hard to notice the film posters in the background.

The biggest saving grace of the film is undoubtedly Sivakarthikeyan’s earnest performance. Even as the moments fail to leave an impact, we get the cue from Sivakarthikeyan and are quickly swept away by the sheer effort he puts into the scene. Sreelaala makes an impressive debut in a character that feels tailor made for her brand of eccentricity. If not for the predictability looming over his character, Atharvaa, with his spirited portryal of Chinnadurai, could have provided the much-needed energy to the film. In a breath of fresh air, in what has become a rarity in Tamil cinema, we get a no-nonsense, ruthless antagonist in the form of Ravi Mohan’s Thiru. While the character operates as the long, often self-acting arm of state brutality, the film also shows how politicians higher up the power hierarchy, and their prejudices enable such officers to operate strictly above the law. However, considering the historical significance of the subject matter, it feels disingenuous to represent the bulk of the film’s antagonistic forces in the form of one character and his Freudian psychological issues. This largely simplifies the opposition and moves it away from the fight against what is essentially a complex administrative and cultural oppression.

Parasakthi also belies extreme anxiety by spelling everything out. We get that the Tamil professor was probably tortured to speak against the student protestors. Weren't the tears sufficient enough? Did we really have to hear him say “Enna ipdi panna vechitingale da” offscreen? There are many such moments where the dialogues test our patience, and other times GV Prakash Kumar jumps in to drown the lines. But we are not sure if we should thank him since the music feels uninspired anyway. You would think that a film titled Parasakthi, which it borrows from the iconic 1952 film, being loaded with bad dialogues, is the biggest case of irony. No, that distinction goes to CBFC’s decision to add a disclaimer in select frames. “Sitharikkapattavai” (dramatisation) quietly pops up in the corner of the frame during scenes where Hindi imposition directly affects the common man, like when Chezhiyan is rejected for a job because he cannot speak Hindi as well as a native speaker. We do not find the disclaimer a scene later when Sivakarthikeyan jumps from the roof, pulling down a scaffolding as he lights it up with style and disrupts the Chief Minister’s speech. Apparently not dramatised.

Even without the CBFC’s aid, the film seems to be doing a good job of weakening its own central theme. The spark of rebellion that fired up a nation-wide uprising, which started the state’s biggest political movement, is reduced to an Avengers-style team up with carefully plucked cameos from neighbourhood states placed at strategic timings for maximum hype. And the nail on the coffin is at the end when the passionate protestors appeal to the Prime Minister of the nation with the same countenance of students applying for re-evaluation. An undignified portrayal of a hard-won fight for freedom of self-expression. Perhaps that is exactly how it all played out, people of different states standing around Indira Gandhi, holding up their school mark sheets to justify their fight for their language. Perhaps that is exactly why a movement of such historical significance should have found a place in our school textbooks before it gets mangled on screen.