t was widely expected that P Samuthirakani’s performance turn in the gritty drama Visaranai would fetch him national recognition, but when he did win the National Award for Best Supporting Actor, he was the last to know. He says, laughing, “I was dubbing for Amma Kanakku and my phone was on silent mode. There were 32 missed calls when I got back to it. The world knew of it before I did.”
His voice softens when speaking of the film that won him the award. “I still have not got over Visaranai , and its making.” The film, directed by Vetri Maaran, is about the plight of four Tamilian migrant workers tossed into a Guntur prison. He remembers, “We would shoot at night, and when I hit the bed at 6 in the morning, I would have nightmares. The film disturbed us [all] psychologically. I’ve promised myself I won’t do a policeman’s role for some time.”
Over the years, Samuthirakani has been making a name for himself as a performer to look out for, be it in the title role of a conscientious teacher in Saatai , the blow-hot, blow-cold father in Velaiyilla Pattathari , or the silent menacing renegade ex-policeman in the recent Kaadhalum Kadandhu Pogum .
Quite a change from the time when all he faced was rejection. “For three years, from 1992 to 1994, I tried my luck as an actor. And then, wondering if I had a face to match my aspirations, I decided to explore direction.” He persevered, though.
The dream of cinema
After all, he had run away from home — Seithur, a town near Rajapalayam in Tamil Nadu’s Virudhunagar district — at 15, with Rs 130 stolen from his father’s pocket, to make his film dreams come true. “Do you know, I watched my first film in Class Eight, when my friend dragged me along to watch Mudhal Mariyaadhai . The film shook me. From then on, every night, I would watch a film. When the money from home dried up, I sold sundal and murukku in the theatre so that I could watch for free. When my family forbade me from entering the theatre, I would lie on a boulder outside and listen to the dialogues. In 1987, I ran away from home clad in my drawers without even knowing where in Madras I wanted to go.”
Eventually, he made his way back home after a series of adventures.
He was received by a worried family. His father looked at the defiant boy, and told his wife: “He’s searching for something you and I don’t understand, but let’s help him.” Samuthirakani promised them he would complete his education. While completing a part-time degree in law, biding his time to turn actor, he started working with director Sundar K Vijayan and veteran K Balachander. He assisted them over nearly 3,000 episodes of television serials before, in 2000, KB told him he could strike out on his own. He went on to direct 1,500 episodes of serials, and has so far helmed more than 10 films, in Tamil, Telugu and Kannada.
Then, the universe, in the form of director-actor M Sasikumar, conspired to change his life again: he donned greasepaint once more for Sasikumar’s Subramaniapuram . There has been no looking back since. “I’d almost given up on my dreams. But Subramaniapuram proved that if you love something enough, it will find you.”
The popularity that followed the success of Subramaniapuram might have changed many, but not the boy from Seithur. He remains as down-to-earth as ever“I still have my BSA black cycle with a brown seat, my Splendor bike. I use them occasionally, though there’s a fleet of cars at home now. There was a time when the sidewalk outside Ganapathy Government School in Trustpuram was my home during many hopeless nights. Even now, I stop by and sit there just to remind myself of where it all began.”
“The past must ground you,” he says, “and I’m the kind who likes to move on. When everyone was celebrating the 100th day of Nadodigal , I’d already finished shooting its Telugu version. I take ownership and revel in something only while I’m creating it.”
The next time he faces the camera it will be as a National Award-winning actor. Would anything have changed? “Not at all. I’ll continue to be the same jolly chap. Every day on the sets, I wait like a newcomer to see what the director has for me. I’ll fall if he asks me to, cry on his instructions. But, the day I feel this is enough, I’ll get back to what I would have been: a farmer.”
Now that he’s proved himself as an actor and director, has his first love changed? He laughs. “I’ve slogged to become a director; it’s taken a lot out of me. So, yes, that’s my new love. But, I won’t deny that acting gives me a high. I become another person once I hear the word ‘Action!’ The best part is that after ‘Cut!’ I usually get back to being the boy who once dreamed in the fields.”
