Ponniyin Selvan - Part One
Political three-dimensional chess never looked so stunning.
Kalki Krishnamurthy’s beloved five-part historical novel, Ponniyin Selvan, which details the power struggles at the dawn of the Chola reign in 10th century India, was courted by many filmmakers, including legendary Tamil actor MGR before it finally found a worthy suitor in Mani Ratnam. The novel is a sprawling epic - more than 2000 pages long. A cult classic amongst fans, it is considered one of Tamil literature’s most important works. So Mani had lofty expectations to meet, but perhaps none bigger than his own. He calls it his dream project and he has attempted to make it three separate times over the decades. With a budget of 500 crores, and split over two parts, the first half, PS-1 makes a thunderous landfall this Dusshera season.
The story starts with the arrival of a comet in the Eastern skies — a symbol of impending death in the royal family. King Sundara Chola (Prakash Raj) is seriously ill and his mighty empire is at stake. Plots are hatched and loyalties are tested as a power grab ensues. While the king’s sons, Aditha Karikalan (Vikram) and Arulmozhi Varman (Jayam Ravi) shoot off in opposite directions - Karikalan to the north and Arulmozhi to the south, to Sri Lanka - to expand the boundaries of the empire, it is up to their sister, the wily politician, Kundavai (Trisha) to fend off the sharks circling the waters. Chief among her rivals are the king’s ministers, led by the treasurer Periya Pazhuvettaraiyar (R. Sarathkumar) and his wife Nandini Devi (Aishwarya Rai Bacchan) who secretly plot to install a puppet leader. Then there are the fallen soldiers of the once-great Pandya kingdom who have infiltrated Tanjore and sworn to avenge their king who died at the hands of Karikalan.
Guiding us through this underbelly of ruses and betrayals is the character of Vanthiyathevan (Karthi), a brave warrior and a friend to Prince Karikalan. The movie follows him, as he takes a message from the Karikalan to Kundavai, and then as he sails to Sri Lanka to bring Arulmozhi home at Kundavai’s behest. And as he charms and flirts his way into the confidence of the true puppet masters - Nandini and Kundavai - we discover an elaborate game of political three-dimensional chess underway.
In writing the script, Mani Ratnam had to walk a tightrope, satisfying not only diehard fans of the books but also drawing new audiences to the fore - no easy task considering PS-1 has at least fifteen main characters. Thankfully, he excels at it. Characters are introduced at an even clip throughout the movie, right down to its last scene, without ever snagging at its pace. Critical plot points are repeated and rehashed (perhaps one too many times) so that the story is easy to follow, and the names that sounded like tongue-twisters to non-Tamil audiences at first, begin to settle into memory.
Mani is remarkably sparing in his use of filmy devices. What effect can be achieved with a flirting glance, or a sweeping wide-angle shot, he won’t waste a song or scene on. Most of his poetic proclivities, seem to have been channeled into the eye-popping visuals, the grand sets, and the intricate costumes all of which come alive to Ravi Varman’s masterful cinematography and Rahman’s thrilling background score. Only occasionally does Mani get indulgent with the characters as with Aishwarya’s duplicitous Nandini. The camera lingers for too long on her flawless features, eclipsing all other traits. We feel just like Nandini’s husband does when he says that it is hard for him to look past her beauty and acknowledge her superior intellect.
PS-1 went through so many cast changes over the years that fans have been creating their own fantasy leagues. But Mani’s final roster is nearly perfect. Karthi who plays the endearing flirt Vanthiyathevan is the backbone of the movie, without whom all the other severe characters would have seemed grating. Jayaram as Arulmozhi brings a regal physicality to his role, not just to sword fights and elephant chases, but even in the way he walks, or talks, hinting at his bright future. In contrast, Vikram as Karikalan, the heir to the throne, is a love-lorn raging warrior who would rather face a thousand men on the battlefield, than meet the woman who plundered his heart.
The standout performance comes from Trisha who plays the shrewd Kundavai so formidably that she appears five inches taller than she is (or maybe that is just her towering hairdo). Even in a confrontation with Aishwarya’s Nandini, Trisha steals away the scene. One can’t help but see her in a new light, far from the shrill romantic bimbo she has been cast as over and over until now.
PS-1 arrives at a time when the Indian audience’s appetite for big spectacles has already been whetted, maybe even worn down by films past. Especially in Telugu states, parallels will be drawn to Raja Mouli’s Baahubali, the phenomenon that opened the floodgates for big-budget epics. But Raja Mouli and Mani Ratnam are each masters of their own domain. If Raja Mouli is a mixologist crafting flavor bombs, then Mani Ratnam is a sommelier, asking that we sip slowly and revel in the delicate layers.
The story of Ponniyin Selvan is certainly suited to Mani’s aesthetic sensibilities. Its battles are waged on horseback and on the high seas, but these are mere fronts for the real scheming behind closed doors. Arrows fly and swords clash, but it is weaponized beauty and biting wit that will determine who wins the throne. So PS-1’s fight sequences are messy and utilitarian, nothing like the exquisite choreography of Raja Mouli’s. But as the second half of PS-1 settles to a slower pace, before culminating in a deflated finale, one can’t help but crave a few Mouli-esque moments of exhilaration.