There were two main topics of discussion among the fans of Mohanlal’s recent superhit, Drishyam and its proposed Tamil remake by actor Kamal Haasan. The most obvious one being whether the Tamil remake would be able to stand on its own leg. The other point of discussion was if Kamal Haasan could slip into the role of nondescript villager, a feat that Malayalam superstar Mohanlal achieved without batting an eyelid.
Papanasam scores on both these accounts. But, the big question always was this: what could anyone add to a film which has been declared one of the best written screenplays in recent times? The creative team – Jeethu Joseph, writers Jeyamohan and Suka – along with Kamal Haasan, seem to have put their heads together to add as much retroactive meaning to the film.
It is as if they have taken the engine of the original and built a shinier body around it. Whilst the original featured Mohanlal as a Christian living in a self-contained small village unit in Kerala, the Tamil remake features a Kamal Haasan as a Hindu Nadar, a community known for its entrepreneurial spirit in Tamil Nadu. Whilst Georgekutty goes on a pilgrimage, partly to create a coherent faux narrative that he could sell to the cops but also as a metaphorical journey to observe penance, the Tamil remake itself is set in a place called Papanasam, where the protagonist resides to rid himself of the sins his family has committed, making the actual journey to the temple merely a conduit to spin a seemingly truthful fantasy.
Whilst the original featured a protagonist who is a film buff, the Tamil remake feels slightly more authentic when set in Tamil Nadu – taking into account Suyambulingam’s near hero-worship of Sivaji Ganesan – which boasts of a far more intense and a passionate film culture.
The fear that Kamal Haasan, the star could be too hot for the role of a villager has been proved unreasonable. Speaking what seems like an impeccable Thirunelveli accent, Kamal Haasan has owned the role, never once showing off the star he naturally is.
It is hard to shake off the feeling that the scenes, featuring Suyambulingam and Rani played by Gauthami making a comeback, have been slightly extended to milk the real-life partnership between the actors despite the film being largely faithful to the original. This film is many things: it is about violence against women, about police brutality, about paying for your sins, about small-town mentality of putting community before individual and family before everything. But it is also a meta-narrative about the nature of fiction itself: how, in the way it is structured, fiction reveals more truth than reality we perceive.
