A few days ago the South Indian movie icon, superstar Rajnikanth flew to Delhi along his daughter Aishwarya and son-in-law Dhanush to collect the highest honor in Indian cinema — the Dadasaheb Phalke award, an award instituted in honor of the man who is credited with making the first full-length feature film in India, Raja Harishchandra. Rajni was announced as the recipient of this prestigious award in 2019, but the official function could be held only in 2021. The first recipient of the award in 1969 was Devika Rani, the doyen of the silver screen, and since then, the Dadasaheb award has gone to several distinguished artists in the world of Indian cinema. Actors, directors, producers, cinematographers, lyricists, music composers, writers, the entire spectrum of the industry has found representation in this national honor. Dadasaheb Phalke award is similar in stature and intent to the AFI (American Film Institute) Lifetime awards in Hollywood. To be conferred with this award, signifies a validation, a testimony, and a celebration of an artist’s long-term commitment, quality, talent, and passion for the medium and growth of cinema.
It may have come as a surprise, and perhaps seemed ironic to many, that this award has gone to Rajni, and not to Kamal Haasan yet, who in the reckoning of many discerning movie critics and cinema lovers, is a far superior actor than Rajni, especially, when one considers the range and depth of the roles performed by both. Chronologically, both Rajni and kamal have been in cinema for more than forty years (in kamal’s case, much longer; he is considered a child prodigy), and interestingly, both of them were groomed, mentored, and given their initial breaks and commercial successes by K. Balachander (KB), the brilliant director, whose Midas touch and finesse have launched many an actor’s careers. Kamal was introduced as a Hero in films, and Rajni as a negative protagonist. Over the years, Kamal has experimented and worked hard to showcase his artistic caliber, often pushing the very boundaries of acting; but on the other hand, Rajni after a few years in the industry had to work only to a set formula, rarely needing to experiment beyond a certain degree. And between the two icons, it is Rajni who has a lasting place in the people’s hearts. While Kamal has always tried very hard to win over his fans by educating his audience on what acting means, Rajni need only appear on the screen, walk a few steps back and forth in his signature style, to throw his crowd into a delirious frenzy. Never has an actor had to do so little over so long a period to achieve so many accolades. It is not that Rajni could not have evolved into a more accomplished actor, he has the talent, but he was not given the chance to explore it much. In an industry that values commercial success so much, it is almost impossible to change a winning formula. By repeating and rehashing a formula Rajni was good at, and which simply refused to fail, he got his recognition, and the producers their money, and the fans their entertainment.
In his early films, Rajni looked positively menacing and hardly seemed Hero material to anyone. But there was something about him that stood out in those early days of Indian cinema when filmmakers were moving away from mythological stories to invent the Hero figure in the social realm. MGR had inaugurated that movement, but it was Rajni’s fate to consummate the change. Rajni possessed a natural swagger, a smirky smile, a less than pure but unique style of enunciating Tamil words, and most importantly, his exaggerated physical gestures — which he was able to pull off without seeming comical — captivated people. The nonchalant flip of the hand to capture a cigarette between his lips marked Rajni’s trademark acting style. It may seem a ridiculous and perfectly innocuous act, but it is an act, which in the last four decades, he has repeated under so many guises, shapes, forms, and means, that his fans have loved it each time, and have come to expect this physical idiosyncrasy in every film, however improbable the act may be. It is now part of the Rajni persona, the icon.
But Rajni had solid acting talent too. KB spotted it early and encouraged that side of Rajni. In the sixties and seventies, Rajni, not yet the superstar he became, experimented with multiple roles, some of which were brilliant indeed. My personal favorites are ‘Mullum Malarum’ (thorns and roses) in which he played the role of a possessive and headstrong brother unable to let go of his affection for his sister, and ‘Aariliruenthu arubathu varai’ (from six years to sixty), in which again, he played the elder brother, who suffers the pains of poverty, bears the brunt of ungracious behavior from his siblings and finally emerging as a novelist who converts his suffering and pain into literature. It was a sterling performance that brought the best in Rajni. It is during the eighties that Rajni metastasized into a superstar, and unfortunately stereotyped himself. The hunger among the cinema-goers to have a messiah on-screen matched Rajni’s image and portrayal of an iconoclastic, unconventional hero who fought for the people. His unique brand of histrionics and punch dialogues touched the right nerves of a south Indian society emerging as a major force in the Indian subcontinent.
The eighties and nineties were Rajni’s peak years. Anything he touched turned to gold. His presence ensured box office collection, and his movie releases triggered jubilant celebrations across the state, that masked everything else. Milk and honey flowed aplenty. All that a Rajni movie required during his peak years was a three-liner story, a larger-than-life hero character, a popular heroine to play the second fiddle, an opening song to commemorate the entrance of Rajni, a few crowd-pulling physical acrobatics that drove the fans crazy, a few punch dialogues that invariably became the echoing mantra of the day, and of course, the continuous presence of Rajni in virtually every scene. Rarely, could anyone else share screen space with Rajni? His villains were created as exaggerated caricatures, bound to fail; his heroines, dancing dolls, and embellishments to Rajni’s machoism; his comedians, expendable sidekicks; and everyone else existed on screen only to scaffold Rajni’s image. It was not Rajni’s fault at all. It was his destiny to be caught in this rut of commercial cinema. He was never allowed a chance to reinvent himself.
However, as the new millennium emerged, Rajni began to show signs of aging. He was in his mid-fifties. His onscreen charisma was losing luster, a touch of fatigue could be seen in his performances from playing the same role over and over again. But that didn’t matter. By this time, Rajni was firmly and deeply assured of his place in Tamil cinema. No one could displace his position and popularity. No matter what he did, or did not do, his films ran well, and in the odd event, if the movie did not do as well as expected, Rajni stepped in magnanimously to make good the losses. Therefore, unlike with a Kamal movie, producers were happy to lay their fortune into a Rajni film, and create storylines, that could allow his devoted fans to continue hailing him as their “Thalaiva”. As long as the film stuck to a rigid formula of portraying Rajni as a mega-man, the movie could never fail. After all, for his devoted fans, Rajni is God, man, and actor (in that order respectively), all rolled into one — indestructible, immortal, and eternally youthful. How could he take a false step?
To a large extent, it is Rajni’s humble origins as a Bus conductor — eking out a living in Bangalore — to his metamorphosis into superstardom, that gives the man his iconic status. All of us love the rags-to-riches story, don’t we? The story about fighting against all odds to become rich and famous is universally alluring, and, mistakenly, gives us hope that we can also be the beneficiaries of such luck. And to Rajni’s credit, he never forgets to emphasize his origins at every possible occasion. Even after becoming a multi-millionaire many times over, his fans naively believe that their beloved superstar still lives the lifestyle of a bus conductor. Outwardly, Rajni is careful, and never extravagant in his tastes. His crumpled and bearded appearances, even on the most formal of occasions help to validate and reinforce this narrative. The second aspect of his personality, which Rajni has assiduously and meticulously created over the years, is the spiritual side of his life. His regular forays to the interior hills of the Himalayas to meet hidden saints and invisible gods, the frequent references to birth and death as a means to balanced living, the spiritual platitudes, and Osho stories he so generously shares during his speeches, puts him on a moral pedestal, rarely achieved in the film industry. A scrupulously well-mannered family man, deeply caring of his wife and daughters, Rajni, again unlike his peer kamal, has always held high moral standards for himself. Latha, his wife of many decades, has been a stabilizing influence on the wayward younger Rajni. In the past three decades, there has not been any scandal or even a rumor of infidelity or inappropriate behavior from the man. Deep down, he has kept his life clean and transparent. He understood that the success of his onscreen persona will depend, and be measured against his real life. In Indian cinema, the two are not separate. Rajni has a tremendous following in the women folk simply because, in their eyes, he is a good, clean man. On the other hand, there is a significant section of viewers who would judge a Kamal film harshly, only because they do not appreciate his infidelities in real life. No judgment here, but that is the reality of Indian cinema, even today. The separation between the reel and real is blurred, more so in the southern states.
In my view, Rajni richly deserves the Dadasaheb Phalke award. He may not have displayed the breadth expected of a veteran artist, or broken the mold he was unwittingly cast into early in his career; but whatever he did, he did with inimitable style, flair, and an unusual grace that somehow suited him well. Rajni could, perhaps, if given a chance, do the work that many other actors have done; but, there aren’t many actors, now or in the past, who could have filled Rajni’s shoes. There is something magnetic about the personality that endears even ardent critics to him. For more than forty years, he has entertained audiences worldwide. There is never a dull moment in his movies. Directors have loved working with him. None of that superstardom- attitude on the sets. Rajni would perform as asked, and this enabled the filmmakers to project him the way they wished to. Occasionally, this approach and placid acquiescence of doing whatever the director demanded of Rajni has backfired, but Rajni always backed his creative team, no matter the outcome.
In his award acceptance speech, Rajni dedicated the honor to his mentor KB, and to his friend, the bus driver, who encouraged him to act. In this long and successful journey, Rajni has never forgotten the role of chance and opportunity and the blessings of many people. The sense that his achievements are guided by a greater power has remained constant in his reflections and conversations. Success is an enigmatic state. Some view it as the result of their volition, others (very few compared to the former category) dedicate it to a lucky confluence of time, opportunity, and talent. Rajni belongs to the second flock. There was quite an expectation this year that Rajni would step into political life, but, that was not to be. He withdrew his candidature at the last moment. A wise decision. Failing health, and perhaps the realization that politics in the fading years of his life may jeopardize years of carefully cultivated fan following and goodwill, may have led him to this decision. It was the right one.
We love our Rajni on screen, we love him when he makes those grand entrances to resounding music and lights, we love him when his villains fly in different directions with the slightest movement of his hand, we love those manly, straight-kneed walks with long charismatic strides and erect spine, we love him when he delivers his trademark dialogues in an accent that is uniquely his, we love him when he romances apologetically and yet retains a sizzling charm, we love him when he melts with maternal and sibling love, we love him when he protects his producers and directors from financial loss, we love him when he shows us shades of his acting brilliance wherever possible, and we love him when he unconditionally accepts to entertain time and time again.
We salute this Rajni of our hearts — the winner of the 2019 Dadasaheb Phalke award. We look forward to Rajni’s upcoming movie “Annaatthe”, releasing next week, with the same enthusiasm and tingling excitement as we did twenty-five years ago when a Baasha or an Annamalai was released. What will our Thailavar do this time? Isn’t that something?
God bless…
Yours in mortality,
Bala