Muthal Mariyathai (Prime Honour; 1985) is a great tragedy, arguably the most divine to hit the Tamil screen. Director Bharathiraja described the love between a middle-aged upper-caste man and a younger lower-caste woman as the “journey of a man from house to home”. Bharathiraja has the twin issues of caste and love in the crosshairs. The two love stories featured in the movie and the caste equations that govern them are of particular interest to him.
Let me get you clued into the plot first. Malaichami, played by Sivaji Ganesan, is a well-respected chieftain in his village, though things are not on an even keel within the confines of his home. His marriage to Ponnatha (a scenery-chewing Vadivukarasi) is a sham and his son-in-law (Ramanathan) is a rogue. He meets Kuyil, a boatwoman, who moves to the village to earn a living. He falls for her charms but doesn’t express his feelings fearing the disapproval of the villagers.
Alongside the romance of the older couple, we are also privy to the innocent love between Malaichami’s nephew and the daughter of the village cobbler. Egged on by Kuyil, Malaichami gets the two married even though they are from different castes. Greatness oozes from every frame of the film. B Kannan’s cinematography captures the scenery in loving detail. The movie was shot in Talakadu near Mysuru. The house that Malaichami lives in is evoked in painstaking detail, but so is the hut that Kuyil finds refuge on the riverside.
Another great aspect of Muthal Mariyathai is its authentic use of dialect -- R Selvaraj at his best -- and this is at its most authentic in the foul mouth of Ponnatha. When compared with Ponnatha’s vileness, Kuyil’s love is pure and untainted. There are very few scenes in Muthal Mariyathai that don’t neatly fit into the story. However, a few comedic scenes between Jnanagaraj, a rope-maker who is jealous of his wife, seem unnecessary.
The ‘Ey Kuruvi’ song establishes that Malaichami loves music and nature -- and sets in motion his flirtatious relationship with Kuyil. Compared to the tragedy-tinged fare of the second half, the pre-interval portions are lighthearted as the muted romance between Malaichami and Kuyil is developed. Sivaji’s acting has never been more realistic, but the explosive element is Radha. She slips into the character of Kuyil with ease. Kuyil is not an easy role to play and Radha shows an unexpected depth in portraying her with enormous reserves of empathy. She was unlucky to miss the National Award as her voice was dubbed by Raadika, the first choice for the role of Kuyil in the film.
Malaichami helps Kuyil sell her goats, gives her a hand in catching fish, and even poses for a photograph with her, which later turns out to be really controversial. The indelible scene in which she makes him fish curry is heavy with romance and of these, there are many in Muthal Mariyathai. The difference between Ponnatha and Kuyil is well-demonstrated in this sequence. There is also a running bet through the first half in which Kuyil challenges Malaichami to lift a huge rock if he wants to marry her.
And, between all this, it is easy to miss the overarching attempt to make the Great Tamil Movie. Besides the award for best lyrics, the film also took home the National Award for Best Feature Film in Tamil. The way ‘Antha Nilaavathan’ is realised by Bharathiraja is an apt example of how to make great lyrics even greater. The situation could not be better conceived after Chellakannu gets a tongue-lashing from his aunt when he wears the full-handed shirt and trousers that his beau gets for him.
The story of the younger couple is different in texture from the more mature love story of Malaichami and Kuyil. After Chellakannu and Sevuli (Malayalam actor Ranjini making her debut) are united in an intercaste marriage, the young woman is killed in a quick time. The flute that Chellakannu plays is used to cleverly stage a grandly edited sequence. The murder-for-gain is staged in under a minute but is probably the most memorable crime on the Tamil screen. The popular line, “Saami, enakku oru unmai therinjaganam saami (I want to know the truth),” is also delivered around this time.
When it is revealed who killed the woman, Malaichami doesn’t fail to deliver justice. Finally, the rope-maker tells Ponnatha about the photograph and she roughs up Kuyil in public demanding if she was her husband’s concubine. The slow-burn chemistry between Sivaji and Radha comes to the fore as he denies that he was ever in love with her. Malaichami slaps Kuyil over the course of their argument, the second time in the movie, and Ilaiyaraaja shows why he is a master with the background score.
It is evident that Bharathiraja trusts his audience with the story and takes them on a rare journey in telling its merits. His angle from the director’s chair is revealed in myriad detail. Kuyil makes up her mind to leave the village and is hastened by evil omens. In Muthal Mariyathai, society is a throbbing entity that is alive in every sense of the word, and sometimes it is malignant as well. Keeping one’s hard-earned dignity can get increasingly difficult. Aruna appears in a blink-and-miss role of Malaichami’s adopted daughter, Rasamma. The relationship between the two is endearing, particularly after the scene in which he reveals she is not his real daughter and that he never ever slept with her mother, Ponnatha.
There are times when Sivaji has to play second fiddle to Radha’s acting and he does so brilliantly especially in the scene in which she relieves the murder of Mayilvaganan (Sathyaraj). The dialogue that Kuyil tells Mayilvaganan cannot be written better. I am thinking it will just take four yards to bury you, she tells him before smashing his head with the oar.
After spending years in prison, Kuyil is allowed on parole to visit Malaichami. The passage of time is creatively evoked by the rotating coracle. The song that marked the beginning of Malaichami's relationship with Kuyil is recalled as he is drawing his last breaths: ‘Konjam parunga pen kuyil naanunga (Please open your eyes, It’s Kuyil)’. The lines are cleverly used to illustrate the scene but in a wholly different idiom.
An English film in which an old painter falls for a young woman inspired the movie. So did a Jayakanthan novel called Samoogam Enbathu Naalu Paer. Bharathiraja came along just when the village movie was coming into its own in Tamil. With Muthal Mariyathai, he made it all his. If you haven’t seen the movie since its theatrical release, now would be a good time to take it all in once more.
Watch: Muthal Mariyathai
Nandhu Sundaram is a film critic and freelance journalist who lives in a village situated in the back of beyond in Kanyakumari district. He loves cricket and is trying his hand at short stories. He has a seven-year-old daughter.