On September 29, after the premiere shows of Kantara, while everyone was bewitched by the climax and Rishab Shetty’s Shivanna, the forest officer Murali – played by the inimitable Kishore – won his fair share of admiration too. He was the voice of reason, the one sticking to the rules and protecting the people from the usurping landlord.
The next morning, during the first show of Mani Ratnam’s ambitious Ponniyin Selvan I, Kishore appeared again as Ravidhasan, the bodyguard of the slain king Veerapandian, who is out to kill the Chola prince. Again, he was pitch-perfect.
Cut to mid-October and the trailer of the Aha Tamil series Pettaikaali, starring Kishore and Kalaiyarasan dropped. Listening to his Muthaiyya in an extended voiceover for a promo for the show that revolves around Jallikattu, someone remarked: “Who would ever believe he is not from Tamil Nadu?” In a state that loves its language, this is a rare stature for an actor to hold. Possibly just one other person in the current crop of actors shares that with him — his senior in the industry, Prakash Raj, who is also from Karnataka.
Both of them speak Kannada and Tamil, and in Prakash’s case, Tulu and Telugu too, among others. Interestingly, both use their voice for causes others might shy away from, because it might take on an anti-establishment tone, and the industry usually does not take too kindly to that. Despite that, if they’ve managed to hold on to their positions, it is because of the powerhouse of talent they are.
In fact, after many right-wing handles promoted Kantara as a film that celebrated Hindu culture, Kishore wrote on his social media pages: “Like any popular movie, Kantara is uniting the people of the country surpassing the borders of caste, religion, and language. Through entertainment, people are being made aware of many social issues. By using such a movie to incite superstition and bigotry and divide people, the greatest of successes can become the greatest of failures for humanity.” (sic)
The actor, who was a teacher of Kannada before he appeared in front of the arc lights, and is now also a farmer, has always used his voice even when others have not. He argues his case well, which is why people on either side of the divide don’t pick a bone with him.
In an extended conversation when he was shooting for the web series on Veerappan in Somanahalli near Bengaluru, Kishore spoke about the things that move him, the people who trained him to speak well in Tamil, what the craft of acting means to him, coping with stardom, and more.
You’ve been part of Kantara and PS 1, both of which did phenomenal business at the box-office. Does that matter a lot to you?
I don’t look at these numbers. I am happy when films reach an audience far bigger in number than they were originally meant to reach. As a performer, it is good to say hello to a new audience. As a member of the audience, it is good to expose oneself to new kinds of films. But I am always wary of hype. It makes a project vulnerable.
I also get upset when any film, however well-made, gets hijacked by those using it for some other purpose. My Instagram post was a reaction to that.
I also believe that a filmmaker should be socially responsible. In the film on Veerappan that I did, despite our best efforts to not valorise him, people whistled in a scene where he attacks two police officers. I was shocked by that reaction and still keep talking about it. That was not supposed to be the reaction and despite our best efforts, we had triggered something different.
You choose your projects with care, and you’re part of progressive cinema in Tamil. How do you strike a balance between your Tamil and Kannada films?
I am very much at home with the thought process of the films I work on in Tamil. Kannada has a great tradition of progressive literature too, but I don’t see much of it on screen. But we have some great new writers who are trying something different. I am happy they consider me for such roles, across languages.
On my part, I try to engage with younger filmmakers and work with them. If I find the script interesting, I will somehow try to ensure it works out well for them.
Let’s speak about language. You grew up with Kannada and taught it too. How did you pick up Tamil?
I still remember how after Polladhavan (2007), my debut in Tamil released, I went to watch the movie in a Madurai theatre. When Selvam, my character appeared on screen, someone in the audience said that only the actor playing Selvam got the Madras Tamil right. That was very kind, but I think that’s because of how Vetri Maaran wrote Selvam’s character — he is lovable, and has power but does not use it unconditionally.
I’d give credit to director Vetrimaran’s assistant Vikram and sound engineer Manikandan who sat with me in the dubbing studio during Polladhavan, ensuring I got the pronunciation and dialect right. We would crash on the carpeted floor at night, after all that work.
Everyone seems to find your voice distinct…
I don’t think much of my voice, but I believe people do. I don’t have a baritone, it’s not saccharine-sweet either. I liked how someone once described it — it is like rusted iron. I really liked that comparison. I can’t take credit for my voice, though. I was gifted with it.
You’ve been active in films since the 2004 Kannada film Kanti. You, in fact, won the Karnataka State Film Award for Best Supporting Actor for this and Rakshasa. How do you look back on your journey?
I’d like to believe it is because I was in the right place at the right place. Other than that, I don’t see a reason for me being a part of such seminal films.
Vetri and I almost began our careers at the same time. I liked how he used non-actors, not very familiar faces, and also trained actors who don’t act but become characters. I’ve seen how he works and how he casts his films. If someone acted, he’d say that they are overdoing it. He wanted someone who would not act, but just be. I think in a similar way, and that’s how I got to become a part of films made that way. I am very loyal to the subject and got to be a part of very interesting films. At the same time, these films created an informed audience that looks forward to films that have a new cinematic language. It all happened simultaneously.
I realise you give credit to everything else but your talent. How difficult is it for you to acknowledge praise?
Ha (laughs). I understand where this praise comes from. I might be a part of films that call for this praise. But I truly believe I am just the witness, I cannot take credit for myself. A lot of things came together for a moment on screen. This is not like an award function thank you speech, but I really know that this is true.
In the initial days, when I knew I’d done a good job and yet got no appreciation or notice, I’d wonder where this was going and feel disappointed. Then, this clarity developed in me that whether something works or not, it is not just on me. It is a collective effort. That understanding helped me get out of that phase and still keeps me going.
Does the fact that you don’t just act – you farm, you’re an activist who shares your thoughts on life and society – keep you grounded?
I am like a blank slate. What I am, what I offer, is the sum total of my experience of living. I was not able to define this process till I began farming. I merely respond to nature and what she says. Likewise, I react well if the person standing opposite me is a good actor. The end result is then fabulous. But if we work in isolation, that effect does not materialise.
You just need to be there, observe, understand, learn bit by bit, and enjoy that journey.
What has your farming journey been like?
I began farming 10 years ago near Bannerghatta. It was a romantic choice. Then, I realised I never knew what went into farming. There was a place in Magadi my ajji (grandmother) lived in, and I did not want to let it go.
Influenced by litterateur Poornachandra Tejaswi, I got a small parcel of land in Sagar on an instalment basis because I wanted to spend one monsoon in Malnad, the land of rain. I cultivate native rice varieties there. Farming has trained me to be the person I am. It has taught me that as long as you are dynamic and open enough to allow experiences to chisel you, you will become better.
After all these years, what drives you to sign up for a movie?
A lot goes through in an actor’s mind. I do consider many things. The backdrop of the story, the intent of the story, the quality of the writing, the possible reach, all these are factored in. Sometimes, you do get scripts that you know can shape up well with some more work. I take them up and get involved in the writing. It is difficult for me to be a part of a film that is completely at odds with my beliefs.
What are your current projects?
I’m working in a Telugu/Kannada bilingual about a person fighting the system. It is a commercial film and still manages to be vocal about issues and justice. I hope this will make people think, and talk.
I’ve signed a Malayalam film with debut director Sajeed, and Shruti Menon plays the female lead. It is a supernatural thriller and interestingly, Theyyam is an integral part of the movie.
Do you regret any movies you’ve done?
There are many, but regret has to do more with what effect it has on people. If it triggers hatred or animosity, I feel terrible. I can still deal with a film that does not do well at the box-office or where my performance is not appreciated, but this, I cannot.
Your Instagram page is a space that is very refreshing for someone who works in cinema at a time when it is deeply polarised. What gives you courage?
Strangely, I have been given many opportunities to speak. I just don’t know if anyone is listening. I vent my frustration on my Instagram page. I think people don’t get very offended because I try to back up my statements and because I am not a star who is expected to conform. I derive my courage and thoughts from poet, philosopher, and reformer Basavanna, Gandhi, Ambedkar, litterateur Kuvempu, and Raj Kumar’s films. I derive strength from all those who chose to speak for the people. I don’t read too many comments, so the harsh ones don’t cause any dent in my spirit.
Subha J Rao is an entertainment journalist covering Tamil and Kannada cinema and is based out of Mangaluru, Karnataka.