Myth Masala

I have long maintained that Devasuram, through design or providence, was an inflection point in the career of Mohanlal. If Priyadarshan's Chithram highlighted the actor's slightly tilted gait and effervescent screen presence elevating him from actor to star, Devasuram turned him into a mustache twirling, larger than life superhuman. Mangalassery Neelakantan (Lal's character in the film) would become the singular archetype on which all his later larger than life roles would be based. For years going forward writers and directors would cull out portions from this film and patch their own shoddy sartorial attempts while entirely missing what made Devasuram the wonderful mythical tale it is. Those who would like to see the film for what truly makes it great need look no further than the title itself - it is the story of a man struggling with his own duality; the good and the bad within his own heart. Granted, this isn't the nuanced dilemma of Padmarajan's Thoovanathumbikal, but I.V.Sasi envisions this film as a myth and therefore Neelakantan's problems are of a fundamentally mythical nature.

Neelakantan is a wayward feudal remnant, a naaduvaazhi (landowner) with immense wealth and inordinate amounts of free time. He is by all popular accounts (and even his own as the introduction scene points out), a rascal and petulance personified. Quick to anger and even faster to retribution, Neelakantan has developed a reputation for being a ruffian - one that arises from the immense pride he derives from his exceptional lineage. Warrier (played by Innocent who alternates between august and whimsy with abandon), his manager, is his conscience and man friday - constantly urging him away from the rage and towards the light. All that is good about Neelan lives in art - his salvation lies in his own talents and his ability to foster the talents of others. Even his artistic talents are inherited - while observers point to his father as it's source Neelan knows the true  source of the artistic genetics he possesses are from his mother (we see her singing Sarasijanaabha Sodhari in the video as he watches on from his father's lap).

Everytime we see Neelan do something positive it is directly related to his artistic ambitions in one fashion or another. A man who is usually nothing but bombastic or callous in his speech is apologetic in song, as in the video above - where he apologizes to an artist for any humiliation he may have caused due to his unbridled anger. Neelan is incapable of involving himself in anything without a feral intensity and therein lies the dilemma. As an artist one may simply observe; one of the best things about being a fly on the wall is owning the choice to fly away when one chooses to. But as a functioning human being, a part of society it is impossible to decouple oneself from the vicissitudes of social compulsions. This is Neelan's duality - the pure unsullied artist polluted by an ordinary man reacting to ordinary stimuli.

It is almost as a counterpoint to this that we see the character of Peringode Sankara Marar (once again played by a stellar supporting actor - Oduvil Unnikrishnan) presented in some ways as a man who has somehow managed to decouple himself from the push and pull of a relationship laden life. Sankara Marar is a vagabond who walks to the beat of only his chenda (drum). Traveling from one temple festival to another, Sankara Marar passes through Neelan's house on occasion as a mark of artistic camaraderie. Only this time, instead of a rambunctious dilettante, he finds a broken man; a man who has lost his lineage, the use of his limbs, reclined on a chair and possibly dying. And the song he offers as solace is a telling encapsulation of who he is and the sort of mythology that is rarely seen in the films of a similar vein that came later.

Vandhe Mukunda Hare Jaya shourE Sandhaapa haari murarE
Dwapara Chandrika Charchithamaam nindE Dwarakapuri evidE?
Peeli thiLakkavum kOlakkuzhal pAttum ambAdi paikkaLum evidE?
kroora nishada sharam koNdu neerumee nenjinen aathma praNaamam.
Prema swaroopanaam sneha satheerthyandE kaalkalen kanneer praNaamam.

It is the song of a nomadic wayfarer addressing the Lord Krishna who lays dying on the banks of the sea:. Roughly translated it asks him:

Where is your city that all who lived in Dwapara Yuga looked upon with wonder? 
Where is your shining peacock feather now? 
Where is the flute ever ready with song and the attendant cattle? 
O king, who lies drawing his last breaths on the arrow of the Nishada who shot you, 
O embodiment of love and all that is pure, I bow before thee.

The man who lay dying before the singer is a king, maybe even a god, but it is not the artist's job to help or interfere. It is not his place to offer assistance. His lot in life is to sing and then, just like Peringode Sankara Marar, disappear quietly into the night.