It's a revelation that makes you sit bolt upright. You know Mysskin is a maker of quality films. But that he is also a meritorious performer comes as a surprise. Looking every inch the mentally imbalanced grown-up he portrays, Mysskin does a fabulous job. You warm up to the innocent, hapless Bhaskar Mani straightway. As a writer and director, he rises high above the standards he set with the earlier quality cocktails he served, viz., Chithiram Paesuthadi and Anjaadhae . The moment the titles begin to roll, you know Mysskin isn't going to disappoint you.
Gone are the days when the screen mother was the embodiment of love, undergoing untold suffering and sacrificing her mite for the sake of her family. The sentiment and melodrama attached to motherhood in films is slowly becoming a thing of the past because directors today dare to showcase stray cases of callous mothers. She isn't infallible any longer. In Nandalala , you have a selfish mother who doesn't care a hoot about leaving her toddler to suffer, and goes away in search of greener pastures. But on the other hand you also have a much misunderstood mom, who, unable to bear the separation from her son, turns a mental wreck. On these two parallel lines travels the tale of a man and a child. When the journey culminates in true bonding you feel gratified.
Akhilesh (Master Ashwath Ram) is a schoolboy pining for his mother's love. He lives with his ailing grandma. Knowing that his mother lives in the town of Annavayal he decides to go in search of her. On the way he meets Bhaskar Mani who has escaped from an asylum for the mentally challenged. Mani is going home to punish his mother who, he believes, had put him in the home. And what a pair the boy and the man with a child's mind make!
You can't look for pace in such a true-to-life narration as Nanadalala . Yet the adventures of the two keep you glued. A sense of relief envelops you when Snigdha Akolkar (the yellow-sari-clad dancer in Anjaadhae ) enters the scene and joins the team. It's a powerful role for Snigdha and she pulls it off with élan. Ashwath Ram is another scene stealer. The boy's natural expressions and emotional outburst towards the end are bound to impact the viewer. Did Mysskin actually need Nasser for the 12-second role? But it is to the credit of the actor that even in those few moments he ensures that you remember him and his drunken stupor! Again without uttering a single line, Rohini moves you.
The thin strand of levity that runs through Nandalala is spontaneous. Hence you can't but smile your way through the idiosyncrasies of the incongruous twosome. Not that you can forget the warp and weft of pathos subtly interwoven into the narration. Excellent editing (Ravichandran) that ensures the smooth flow of one scene into another is a laudable feature of Nandalala . So is Mahesh Muthuswamy's cinematography.
The wizard of re-recording does it yet again. Ilaiyaraja's background score and the scintillating solos ‘Mella Oorndhu' and ‘Anbu Onnu Dhaan Anaadhaiya' that meld with the poignant silences are jewels that adorn Nandalala . And what a poetic title!
Greet Mysskin and his Nandalala folks! Tamil cinema needs more creators like him. But be warned. If you are expecting the routine romance, jigs, duets and forcefully thrust comedy tracks, stay away. Alternatively, if you wish to support meaningful cinema that can make a Tamil filmgoer proud, vote for Nandalala . He deserves it, entirely.
Nandalala
Genre: Drama
Director: Mysskin
Cast: Mysskin, Master Ashwath Ram, Snigdha Akolkar
Storyline: Genuine bonding between a mentally challenged person and a school going kid
Bottomline: For seekers of worthy cinema
