The reconstruction of history is often riddled with epiphanies – sudden discoveries of documents or artifacts in unexpected places, fresh revisionist interpretations, or sometimes deliberate recasting of facts – which then go on to irrevocably shape the imagination and the collective consciousness of people. For instance, on April 9th, 1931, Govindasamy, a twenty-eight-year-old, young professor of history with the Annamalai university, was peering at the old, dark, and faded walls along the inner corridors of the grand Brihadeswara temple at Thanjavur(Tanjore) hoping to find evidence of murals from the Chola dynasty, when this magnificent temple was built. The flickering oil lamps that lit those unvisited corners weren’t bright enough to observe much, and whatever murals came into focus in that dim light, Govindasamy immediately recognized as belonging to the era of the seventeenth-century Nayaks. He was disappointed. He was looking for paintings from the Chola period, which was his area of study. The diligent and curious young scholar that he was, he came back again the next day with a friend, and this time with a small petromax lamp in his hand to guide him – a lamp that threw a wider and a brighter arc of light than oil lamps. Out of a strange impulse, Govindasamy turned the search to the walls along the western side of the temple, the professor noticed that on some parts of the wall the plastering had cracked, and when he touched the hanging shreds of plaster, the entire facade peeled away, to reveal an extraordinary series of murals, frescoes hidden behind the decaying plasters that depicted the Chola times in its full colors. In one of the murals discovered during that exploration, there was a particularly beautifully mural of Nataraja – Shiva in his dancing form, and beside him, a man, leaning forward in a posture of worship, with black hair pulled into a bun, bearded, muscular, with no adornments, whom scholars identified as Rajaraja Chola – the great king, who unified southern India and built this temple. Govindasamy spurred by his scholarship and curiosity had discovered the first portrait of Ponniyin selvan, known to history as Rajaraja cholan. Until then the physical characteristics of this great king were conjectural, but now, we had evidence. Rajaraja cholan is the main protagonist of Kalki’s Ponniyin Selvan ( Son of River Ponni), a five-volume work written around the 1940s. It is a breathtaking work of historical fiction, that seamlessly weaves together fact and fiction, to recreate the Chola era, with special emphasis on the thorny road of Rajaraja’s rise to power amidst the political intrigues, instability, and cultural turbulence of that crucial time in South India, especially, in the area that is now the state of Tamilnadu.
In the opening scenes of Maniratnam’s adaptation of the novel, soon after the sonorous voice of actor Kamalahasan sets the geographical and social context of the tale, we see two priests argue in the marketplace about the superiority of Siva or Vishnu, and Vallavaraiyan Vanthiyathevan ( historically, one of the foremost commanders in the army of Rajaraja Chola and a friend of Adita Karikalan the elder brother of Rajaraja ) happens to pass by on official sleuthing business at the behest of Karikalan, ends up mediating the argument. The viewers are bound to ignore the implications of the scene, both in the book and the movie. But this epistemological and mindless debate about the Gods, right at the beginning of the tale, is indicative of the state of the kingdom when Rajaraja came to power, he had no standing army, not even a trained set of dependable bureaucrats. His kingdom was still reeling under the defeats from the neighboring dynasties; religious beliefs were divided and deeply entrenched, caste systems were rigid and a large portion of the population remained outside the mainstream of society. Rajaraja had to unite his kingdom by commanding the imagination of his people, and the way he did it was by commissioning the magnificent Brihadeswara temple. He constructed this overarching temple, whose spires literally touched the heavens, not merely as an act of worship – which it was to a certain extent – but also as a legitimate place of governance and stability, where people can find the unity of the spirit in the eclectic worship of Lord Shiva infused with rituals and paraphernalia from other Vedic systems. The temple, its painting, its sculpture, its music, and its rituals were deliberately cosmopolitan and appeased the religious sentiments of different faiths. Rajaraja mostly ruled from this temple, even though he had an official palace in Tanjore. That was an intelligent move by a great administrator. Using the centrality of the temple as a means to spread the doctrine of an inclusive and imperial ideology was a master stroke and the key to Rajaraja’s success. Even today the imposing structure of the Brihadeswara temple strikes awe in the beholder. It towers over the landscape, looking over people, the land, and the river, as Rajaraja Chola envisaged it ten centuries ago. The reverberation of his glorious reign is felt even today.
The era of Rajaraja Chola is an epochal one for Indian history. It paved the way for the consolidation and growth of a distinct South Indian Tamil-speaking identity in the subcontinent. While the Northern part continued to reel from the influx of foreign armies, the Chola reign acted as the inflection point in Indian history that ensured that the southern part of India was sufficiently insulated from the tremors of pillaging invasions affecting other parts of India. Rajaraja Chola was also a pioneer of maritime trade, mainly with south East Asian lands. His ships were sturdy and built for long journeys. And when these ships returned from their journeys abroad, they brought back immense riches that the Chola king used to build and embellish his temple and cities.
Now let us talk about the movie Ponniyin selvan – part 1. At the outset, it is not necessary ( or even desirable) to have read the novel to watch the film. I would argue it is better to watch the movie as a standalone historical drama without juxtaposing the book, but, if you do so, the movie will seem weak in characterization. After all, it took a couple of thousand pages for Kalki to draw out the subtle nuances of each character, their drives, and their desires. How can a filmmaker do justice to such detailed profiles of complex characters in three or six hours of screen time; it is impossible. The complex, and often intricate relationships that Kalki sketches in his novel don’t come out as effectively. Drenching a scene in sound, and moving the camera around, alone cannot evoke the sensitivity of the moment. Even today, great directors struggle to translate the characters of Tolstoy’s “war and peace” or Hugo’s “Les Miserables” to the screen. It is not for want of directorial talent or genius ( Maniratnam is a class act, there is no doubt about that); it is just that certain works of literature are best read in print and recreated in the reader’s mind than watched on stage or on screen. In fact, the movie can best be enjoyed as a standalone story inspired by certain episodes in Kalki’s epic Poniyin selvan, and not to be construed as a translation of the novel to the screen ( which is what the disclaimer at the beginning of the movie says, and we should take that seriously this time). But given the scope and depth of Kalki’s epic, Maniratnam’s creative team has done a good job in picking the right episodes for part one of the mega project (costing over 70 million USD, I understand).
The screen is filled with stars. Vikram, Karti, Ravi, Jayaram, Aishwarya rai, Trisha, Saratkumar, Parthiban, Prabhu, Prakashraj, Rahman. There are many other popular actors who have surprisingly opted to play minor roles in the movie. Perhaps, they just wanted their names to be attached to this production and nothing else. One wonders if so many highly billable stars were necessary. It does take away the viewer’s attention from the characters to the person playing the role. And clearly, some of the actors don’t fit the role. I personally find it difficult to believe that anyone who is a soldier in an active army can possess a physique that is bloated and well-fed. I am certain Kalki didn’t have anyone like that in his mind. The leading ladies dazzle: Aishwarya speaks through her eyes, and Trisha carries herself with dignity. Jayam Ravi as Ponniyon selvan ( Rajaraja) has done a good job, and Vikram as the angry and blood-thirsty Karikalan plays to his strength, which is effectively portraying raw anger on screen. The special effects used throughout the movie are modest, not in the scale of Bahubali, for instance, but decent enough for the scenes shot on the sea. In some frames, the effects clearly seem contrived, but that is Ok, the overall impact is consistently good.
It is evident the dialogues have been dumbed down a little to make them accessible to a wide Tamil-speaking audience. They are written in a strange mix of classical and colloquial dialects. It took a while for me to get comfortable with it. Personally, I would have preferred more rigor in the language considering this is a period piece, but I see the point of keeping the extent of classicism under control to achieve commercial success. I have mixed feelings about the music too. The background score was relentless. In some places, silence could have served better. The songs are passable, but Maniratnam, has always had this skill of transforming average musical pieces into great visuals and this film is no exception. When I listened to the album on Spotify, I liked a song or two, but those, unfortunately, didn’t feature in this part of the movie. The cinematography, sets, and costumes are breathtaking. The authenticity of the sets and the attention to detail in the constitution of a scene are proof of the quality of research that has gone into the making of the film. The overall symmetry achieved is beautiful to behold. The film is nearly three hours long, it could have been shorter by at least 30 minutes without sacrificing anything in the story.
Would I watch Ponniyin selvan part 1 again? The answer is, probably not. Once is enough. I liked the movie, not for its claim of being an adaptation of a great novel, but as a well-researched and carefully crafted magnum opus. The movie hasn’t distorted Kalki’s vision, but it hasn’t captured it completely either. I don’t think it can be. There is definitely grandeur in the movie along with an honest attempt to create something valuable on screen, and Maniratnam has once again proved that he is one of a kind in the Indian world of cinema. I will probably watch PS 2 when it comes out in 2023 to close the loop.
For those who have read the novel, and are not inclined to see the movie. Don’t worry. it is probably a good decision, after all. The magical world of Ponniyin selvan that Kalki’s prose has created for you in five volumes may be far richer, deeper, imaginative, and more satisfying than any adaptation of it can ever produce on the silver screen.
However, pls do watch the movie, if you can. It is worth watching once, at least.