His last film was 25 years ago. That’s because he died that year, in a hotel room, somewhere in Kozhikode. You’d think it’s a long time ago, that while certain movie buffs may remember Padmarajan and ache for his beautiful works, the rest would just never get it. But Padamarajan remains a huge exception.
Even those born much after his time are lured, although the luring happens a little later in life. Like how it happened to Nitin Nath who sits on a chair and says, as Govind Menon of Thaikkudam Bridge plays his violin next to him, “They say it was a grim January morning in 1991. They say you were found dead in a hotel room in my city. In which case, you were dying within walking distance from me, probably while I was sleeping.
Along the years, I’ve gone through many different versions of what that mo—rning could’ve been
There’s one where I wake myself up, rush to your hotel room,introduce my 4-year-old self and request you not to go back to sleep.”
Nitin and Govind are in a prologue video called ‘dear padmarajan’ to an English feature film called Humans of Someone, directed by Sumesh Lal, the man who brought us Rosebowl and Kappa TV, Malayalam channels that promoted independent musicians like never before. Nitin had met him only because of these works that he loved. So when he left his job in advertising ‘one fine afternoon’ Sumesh is one of the first he called. Together they worked in several projects and then it was time to make their dream film. Nitin wrote, Sumesh directed. The prologue and the film. “The prologue sets the tone for the film,” Sumesh says.
The idea to create a prologue came from discussions of promoting the film. Trailers and motion posters were done. ‘Spoken word musical’ was an idea close to Nitin’s heart. “Because there is something inherently cinematic about it,” he says. It is something, he explains, that’d sound like Morgan Freeman’s narration in Shawshank Redemption, like there is a soundtrack to our lives as we speak our lines. Nitin chooses to speak of Padmarajan, a filmmaker he couldn’t figure out when he was growing up but went back to after spending some time in this world. “I was looking at it differently because I gave it my own experiences.”
The narration goes through several of Padmarajan’s films and his characters, with one-liners like: ‘Every film is about us, even the ones about other people’. As he narrates, Govind plays themes from Padmarajan’s various films, connecting it with the original theme he composed. The narration had such an impact that the team kept getting messages not only from people who loved the legendary director, but non-Malayalis who never heard the name before. Varun, who wrote the film ‘Massan’ is one of them. The obsession that the makers have about a director they never met apparently passes on to the audiences. “Obsession is a larger feeling than love,” Nitin says.
Incidentally, another man from Mumbai is in Kerala with a similar obsession to make a film about a man he’s only heard of. Jagannathan Krishnan is a journalist who has turned into a documentary filmmaker, and has been searching and researching a man whose name he doesn’t know. You could call him a conman but Jagannathan would not let you. “I don’t want to call him a cheat,” he says because the money he cheats off others are meagre amounts, barely enough to see him off to the next day. And he doesn’t just rob them off. No, he does his research, spends hours with the people he takes money from but who tend to like him, and he often introduces himself as a teacher. So far, Jagannathan has been going from one state to another, following leads. But he hasn’t met the man, he has instead spoken with people who have, constructing his story through others. The obsession comes from the simple reason that it showed the human side - of trust and gullibility. He’d be happy to speak to anyone who knows anything about a man, and leaves his emailjagannathan.krishnan@gmail.com and phone number 9870627109.
