When this writer told a friend that Bindu Panicker’s filmography lists roughly 250 films since her debut in Kamaladalam (1992), he pointed out that it was a dismally low number if you compare that to her male counterparts. Even more so, considering her astonishing range and talent. If one were to draw a career chart of the 55-year-old actor, they would find that her progression is staggeringly consistent not only as a performer, but as someone who has casually reinvented herself at crucial junctures in her career.
Bindu, however, rarely got the opportunities or scripts to flex her craft like her male contemporaries. Or let’s just say she probably couldn’t afford the work flexibility of male actors to explore this space for the long haul. Or maybe, she simply didn’t get the mileage she deserved. Here, we try to trace Bindu’s cinematic journey through several of her landmark roles, in a career that spanned three decades.
Last year’s Rorschach, directed by Nissam Basheer, was a reminder to the Malayali audience of Bindu’s ability to spring surprises as an actor. Though it had a stellar Mammootty headlining the narrative, it was Bindu’s turn as Seetha that proved to be the film’s revelation. Seetha, wearing a traditional mundum neriyathum, hides a raging storm behind a perennially calm exterior. In Bindu’s safe hands, this deceptively ordinary mother hen travels into unchartered territories. She has made sure her straying husband is inconsequential at home, and she lives for her two adult sons. She allies with them in their crimes, making sure they are always protected. She also claims, rather proudly, that her sons are her reflection. Bindu manifests this inner duality with such ease that when you see her quietly poisoning a police officer, you aren’t really prepared for it. Here is a hardened woman who has mastered the art of survival, and uses her maternal instincts as an excuse to unleash her dark side.
“God’s gift,” that’s how succinctly Bindu Panicker tries to explain her method in a recent interview when the anchor gushed about Seetha. In interviews, she displays a genuine humility about her craft, that old schooler who can’t really explain how she does it. Everything “just happens” for the actor.
When Bindu debuted in the Sibi Malayil directorial Kamaladalam, written by AK Lohithadas, she occupied modest screen space as the wife of Madhavanunni, played by veteran actor Murali. But there was an endearing simplicity about her that didn’t go unnoticed. She did not have many scenes in the film, but her playful banter with her brother-in-law (Vineeth) managed to register with the audience. Maybe it was her unaffected dialogue rendition or her presence, there was something refreshingly honest about the actor.
This was further accentuated in the same scriptwriter’s Valsalyam (1993, directed by Cochin Haneefa), in which she had a substantial role as the girl promised to the second son of the family for whom her father worked as a caretaker. Nalini is unremarkable as a character — she is quiet, shy, wears her heart on her sleeve, and gracefully exits the scene when her suitor ditches her. But Bindu, with her innate ability to express naivety, made Nalini memorable in a film that is mostly occupied by stereotypical celluloid women.
Then came the influx of sister, wife, and sister-in-law characters, with subtle variations. The first glimpse of a consummate performer in Bindu was in the MT Vasudevan-scripted Hariharan film Parinayam (1994). In the film, she played an old Namboothiri’s second wife, severely affected by her husband’s remarriage to an even younger woman. Though brief, the scene in which she flares up before being brutally banged against a wall by her elderly husband, causing her to let out a heart-wrenching wail, can send a chill down your spine.
In the mid-90s, she was part of a large chunk of middling potboilers. To be fair, there were not many challenging roles written for female actors to play at the time. In fact, the period from mid-90s to early 2000s was when the ‘superstar films’ ruled the roost in Malayalam cinema, so the deal for women was to make the most of whatever came their way. But even in stock characters, Bindu strived to bring some variation. In Sallapam (1994), she lends a poignancy to Padmini who is forced to overlook her husband’s roving eye. In Thooval Kottaram (1996), she brings mirth to the role of the greedy melodramatic sister.
Her comic side first came to notice in the Jayaram starrer Superman (1997). The materialistic, arrogant wife of a police officer who doesn’t let go of her impudence even on the witness stand gets a sardonic comical twist in the actor’s hands, turning the character into a popular meme material that is relevant to this day.
The actor was also around at a time when some of Malayalam cinema’s finest character actors (Jagathy Sreekumar, Thilakan, KPAC Lalitha, Kalpana, Oduvil Unnikrishnan, Innocent, Mammukoya, Cochin Haneefa) were at the top of their game. But not only did she match her wits with them, the performer in her also benefited from these associations. This became apparent in her first image-breaking role as the cute and naive homemaker Indu, who confidently spoke awful English, in Sreekrishnapurathe Nakshathrathilakkam (1998). That she stood her ground in the company of a seasoned comedian like Jagathy Sreekumar, who is known to derail even experienced co-actors with his inimitable comic timing and on-the-spot improvisations, was commendable. “I have been doing these sister, wife, and sister-in-law roles, and then came this comedy role. I think every artist will have those skills, but you need to be lucky to have someone to bring that out in you. Indu was one such challenge,” the actor recalled in a recent interview.
In this comic family drama directed by Rajasenan, Indu is the youngest daughter-in-law of a middle-class family in which women were assigned the role of caregivers. Though both her sisters-in-law are naïve, it is Indu’s gullibility that wins you over. Her English usages are positively hazardous, yet she gets away with it. Bindu is all heart as this no-holds-barred icon of naivety.
It was no surprise that some of Bindu’s most popular roles were written by Lohitadas. The gossipy and materialistic Sunanda in Arayannangalude Veedu (2000) and the temperamental but kind Susheela in Joker (2000) are characters she can probably pull off in her sleep. The variations she brings to Susheela who makes a livelihood at a circus are fascinating. She is world-weary and helpless but angry with the system, yet her inherent kindness shines through — and the actor makes it all seem very lived-in.
So it was providential that the same writer-director should offer her the biggest image-breaking character of her career. Perhaps more than the actor, it was Lohithadas who had the confidence that she could pull off a character of such formidability as she did in Soothradharan (2001). It takes a whole minute to register the actor in the film, and it takes another five minutes to process her spectacular transformation as the paan-chewing, beer-guzzling, loud, garishly dressed Madame of a shady brothel.
This was a moment of resurrection and stunning updation for Bindu. Her loud guttural laugh and feral anger in the film are daunting. This, coming from an actor who has rarely stepped out of roles that are seeped into domesticity. Devumma is so intimidating that even men shrivel in front of her. Though she runs the brothel with an iron hand, there is a closely guarded tender, maternal side to her, and the actor brings alive that contrast with admirable subtlety.
Though she averaged 10 films a year between 2000 and 2010, there were fewer characters that helped her step beyond the mundane. The loud and canny Thangamma who manipulated Charlie in Shaji Kailas’s Natturajavu (2004) turned out to be a watered-down version of Devumma. Otherwise, the immediate shoutouts would be Thilakkam (2003)’s Vanaja, CID Moosa (2003)’s Ramani, and Sachi’s mother in Gramophone (2003), all characters laced with humour, and still celebrated as memes.
Over the past 10 years, Bindu’s roles have been getting thinner and more mediocre. The only memorable one was perhaps the theatre actor Kainakari Revamma in Pullipulikalum Aattinkuttiyum (2013). Except for Rorschach, one can’t think of a single character that did justice to her fabulous talent in recent times. That she did roughly 100 films that were mostly rehashed characters from her earlier films, or were just plain forgettable, was rather unfortunate. That’s why a film like Rorschach was a godsend. It was also a wake-up call for young writers and filmmakers to sharpen their creativity and think out of the box when it comes to exploring a veteran like Bindu Panicker. Who could say when she may soon come up with yet another image-breaking act.
Neelima Menon has worked in the newspaper industry for more than a decade. She has covered Hindi and Malayalam cinema for The New Indian Express and has worked briefly with Silverscreen.in. She now writes exclusively about Malayalam cinema, contributing to Fullpicture.in and thenewsminute.com. She is known for her detailed and insightful features on misogyny and the lack of representation of women in Malayalam cinema.
Views expressed are the author’s own.