Venu Nagavalli

Venu Nagavally survives on sheer nostalgia. For his own days of youth, when Castro and Marx were his gods. In the process, he tingles our memories too.

He loved to portray the camaraderie among friends and neighbours (and no one could beat him at that). Be it Swagatham, Ayitham, Sukhamo Devi, Kalippattam, Sarvakalashala or Hey Auto, the youthful banter and interactions of the main characters was the high point of the movies.

Nagavally was the typical “thinking moviemaker” of Kerala of the 1980s. Yet, he also was intellectually honest, I feel. This was manifest in one scene in Sarvakalashala.

The otherwise chirpy and affable “Chakkara”—the character played by Manianpilla Raju—one fine day turns serious, complete with a jubba, oiled hair, a sidebag and a morose look.

When asked what the problem was, he says, he wants to be serious in life. “Oru Venu Nagavally mood!” he says. Seldom has any moviemaker made fun of himself.

No single character took centre stage entirely in Nagavally movies. They all played their parts. But they were mostly only complementing the plot itself.

But wait. I was wrong. There were central characters: Destiny and Death.

Nagavalli’s movies were the visual manifestation of that good old saying: “Man proposes, God/fate/destiny disposes”.

He charmed us with his witty dialogues (which he lent to other moviemakers too, like Priyadarshan) that were more or less a replay of the common Malayalee’s day-to-day conversations. After he had lulled us into complacency, he would unleash the tormenting twists and turns in the plot, that left a lump in our collective throat.

Be it the sudden death in an accident of the character played by Ashokan in Swagatham or the passing away of Mohan Lal’s character in Sukhamo Devi, leaving behind so many incomplete tasks and changing almost everybody’s destiny overnight, or shooting of “siddhan”, the eccentric traveler-poet played by Nedumudi in Sarvakalashala.

Death was often the harbinger of catastrophic change in Nagavally movies.

Think of the ambulance carrying Sunny’s body passing by the gate of Urvashi/Ganesh’s home in Sukhamo Devi. It still gives me goose bumps when I think of that scene.

Or consider this: Actor Sunny, Lal’s elder brother in Sukhamo Devi, reaches home on hearing of his brother’s death. After exchanging compulsive pleasantries with Lal’s buddies, with a shivering voice, he asks: “Enikku oru cigarette tharumo arenkilum?” And then his trembling hands stop him from lighting it.

Unmatched… till this day.

Best: Sukhamo Devi, Sarvakalashala, Lal Salaam

Worst: Raktasakshikal Zindabad, Hey Auto! (relatively)