Watching yesteryear movies on TV has become tiresome, the commercial breaks mostly make you forget what the last scene was like.  After nearly a decade, I happened to watch one of the feel-good movies – May May May maadham….(I am not stammering, humming the title song).  Watching movie at late hours without any ad breaks, that too alone without any snack requests from your kids, without your spouse calling you fetch his hankie is a bliss.  After confirming “So gaya ye jahaan, so gaya aasmaan….” I sneaked into the TV room as I had checked the program guide on my Tata Sky for the timings.

I have watched May Maadham many a times before, but it is always good to revisit the films you like.  It gives you an extra second to find some things which you might have missed before.  As the signature opening song played, I was reminded of when and where I first watched it, may be around 1995-1996 or so when we had only Door Dharshan.  The movie was released on 9 September 1994 (I peered at the reel) just one or two years before, but it seemed like some vintage classic as we were watching it on a black and white TV.  It was a lazy Sunday evening, Dad had just switched on the TV and some dark girl was dancing in the Ooty backdrop, at least that’s how my mom described her.  I came into the room rubbing my sleepy eyes, after a good afternoon siesta.  Seeing her I shouted, “She is Sonali Kulkarni! the heroine of “Cheluvi.”  Appa, don’t you remember, the film we saw the other day.”  I had watched her in Girish Karnad’s short Kannada telefilm named Cheluvi – The Flowering Tree (1992).  It was her debutant movie where she played the titular character.  My father’s eyes brightened, as if recognizing her “Ada aama.”  I took it as a compliment for my memory, happy at my discovery I turned back to look at my parents, but now they were staring at me, spat came my mom’s remark – “cinema vishiyam mattom unakku epidi dhaan nayabakam irukko, forget your 16 tables.” That’s it, for the rest of the movie, I didn’t turn back or comment.

This time I started re-watching this film for PC Sreeram’s cinematography and Crazy Mohan’s lines.  I never knew Crazy Mohan had penned the dialogues for this film, until I saw his name in the titles (Eureka moments of re-watching).  It is a simple love story that doesn’t have any unnecessary villains apart from the usual parental opposition.  The central conflict of the protagonist is something which any Tamilian (especially girls) can relate to because it is an everyday story in our life. A seemingly “progressive” father educates his daughter in both sciences & arts, but is blindingly unaware of her desires and needs, as her treats her as his property.  Like in any other Tamil film, Sandhya has a typical rich, strict dad who spouts lines like, “Sandhya darling, naan unnaku Hitler dhaan, but nee ennaku Germany aache.” It should have been more efficiently handled as there isn’t much scope for melodrama here.  Maybe that’s why the director decided to adopt a tongue-in-cheek attitude, with Crazy Mohan’s script coming in handy. 

The opening song of “Margazhi Poove” in Ooty mist was cool.  I should say it was a better try while comparing to other cinematographers’ Ooty!  The next scene seemed a modern adaptation of Mouna Ragam’s ponnu paakara scene where Revathy’s father without chiding her breaks the news of the prospective groom while dropping her to the college. In that movie, Dhivya runs away before (to avoid) seeing the groom, but here Sandhya runs away after seeing him! I liked the way Sonali Kulkarni expressed herself as Sandhya – the struggle of being trapped; flirting her way into freedom, and the carefree happiness while exploring Madras. 

Once the story shifts to Chennai (Madras ba akhhaan) the camera too shifts gear.  Sandhya, the over-protected daughter of the rich businessman in Ooty, runs into a photographer – Eshwar here and due to a series of circumstances, gets to experience a free life among the masses of the city, meeting interesting people like Calcutta & Aandal-amma. “Madrasa Suthi Paka Poren” had a unique camera angle, maybe they had the camera placed in the car bumper.  The camera captures the aesthetics of 90s Madras – the simpler times where going out to a restaurant or a visit to the Marina was “an occasion.”  These fast-paced shots were synonymous with the background music. Manorama’s voice added life to already lively yet nostalgic song. I especially enjoyed the jingle sound of the vintage car (dabba car). 

Sandhya played by Sonali was dubbed by actress Rohini, but in most of the scenes, I saw there was no proper lip sync.  Sonali must have been speaking Marathi.  Even though her dusky colour made us accept her as a South Indian, also she was giving some good facial expressions, but her mouth was always eating vada pav!  In one of the most important scenes in the film where she reveals her true identity to Vineeth, it is obvious that it has to be a close-up shot for her, but how to hide her mouth which was still not accustomed to our sambhar vada accent?  That’s where PC Sreeram’s experience and brilliance comes handy, he had used the shadow of the window grill in this scene, the shadow falling right on her face and covering just her mouth! (I know you would check out this scene right away!) 

There wasn’t any depth to Vineeth’s character, like who was he? Did he have any past or relatives? Suddenly an aunt appears from somewhere just to make Sandhya reveal her identity. Vineeth’s decent acting seemed a bit similar to Karthik’s to me. Only later did I come to know that this movie was based on American romantic comedy Roman Holiday released in the year 1953. This film has been considered one of the most romantic films in cinema history, but the Tamil version wasn’t anywhere near being romantic. It didn’t seem convincing enough when it came to the relationship between Sandhya and Eshwar – we get disjointed moments of them while they explore Madras together, it doesn’t seem strong enough to forge a bond. Also, the element of tension and conflict were only wisps felt here and there. In fact, one never truly feels the pain of separation nor is one afraid of their relationship going awry. 

The dialogues of Crazy Mohan were as usual witty, but I guess most of the characters missed the timing, maybe the fault of the director or the characters failed to understand the witticism the scene expected of them.  And hence, some of the funny lines were lost, rather fell flat on our ears, like this one “Nee oru All, naan oru All, rendu peru sernda All-in-All.” 

A.R. Rahmaan’s music comes to the rescue of this love story that loses direction halfway through, but after the halfway stage, it fails to grip you.  It was slow-paced after that, the end was pretty predictable, but never mind, life too at some days seems slowed down. 

The movie had everything that the average Tamil-movie-goer wants, it had drama, riveting songs, an action sequence, comedy here and there, but still this film didn’t do well at the box office in spite of a decent story line, peppy music by ARR, excellent artwork by Thota Tharani, PC’s brilliant cinematography, memorable lyrics by Vairamuthu, and Crazy Mohan’s dialogues. The Madras slang by Manorama Aachi and her acting in the movie was in her usual style, filled with fun and comical sarcasm. Janakaraj’s cameo as Captain seemed forced and wasn’t a surprise element. At the end, I felt bad for the bald, stuttering groom. 

I would love to watch it again because I never felt bored.  Watch it for the visual treat by PC Sreeram and the melodious songs.