Should people who comment on art – namely critics and reviewers and other assorted chroniclers of pop culture – be allowed to meet the artist?
FEB 6, 2011 – ONE OF THE NICER THINGS that happened to me, professionally speaking, was an interaction with Kamal Haasan in front of an awed audience. The actor had consented to perform Chief Guest duties at a function to induct Stars From Another Sky – Khalid Hasan’s translations of Saadat Hasan Manto’s acidic observations about the Bombay film world of the1940s, long before it became Bollywood – into the Penguin Classics Library. The people from Penguin called and asked if I would talk to Kamal Haasan about the book, and for an instant, the mind was a fog of incomprehensible emotion – a vague mix of surprise, delight, nervousness, shock, and ethical (perhaps even existential) hand-wringing. I agreed, ultimately, and I’m glad I did, for it was an unforgettable evening, but at the crux of it all lay a prickly question about how close to a star a critic (or even a chronicler of pop culture) can get, should get. Did Manto endure these misgivings when he chose to cohabit with the stars he wrote about?
For starters, you’re never really yourself while around a star you admire and respect (and have admired and respected from a time you didn’t even know what a star was, for Kamal Haasan, in a sense, appears to have been a fixture of the Tamil film firmament forever). It’s one thing to gaze at him from your seat in the theatre, wisecracking friend by your side, the motormouth Rajinikanth fan who keeps needling you that the object of your admiration and affection is not all that he’s cracked up to be. There’s a distance – you know he’s just a moving picture on a white screen. But when you’re across him, when he’s flesh and blood, the interaction becomes two-dimensional. Suddenly, it’s no longer just about what you think of Kamal Haasan – the star up there on screen – but what Kamal Haasan thinks of you. There’s a desperate need to be liked, to be thought of as interesting and intelligent. This was the first time, ever, I was meeting Kamal Haasan (a few days before the actual event), and I think my opening salvo, after an unsure pause, was something along the lines of “It’s such a thrill,” at which he seemed to register some sort of embarrassment and gracious acceptance, and I felt it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if the ground beneath his Alwarpet office opened up and swallowed me whole – either that, or Christopher Reeve from the climax of Superman should have rotated the earth on its axis and flung us back to an earlier time when I would have been better prepared, with the most dazzling opening line spilling out of my lips.
So there’s this uneasiness about existing out of your skin, as if you’re watching yourself watching the actor watching you – unsure if a joke would be appropriate, if a casual statement might offend, or even worse, if you’re going to end up a fawning fan. It’s one thing to have fought for Kamal Haasan at the school playground, when Rajinikanth fans were breathing down the neck, but now, all grown up, those silly shenanigans aren’t supposed to matter any more. At least, that’s what I tell myself. But what if, heart of hearts, I’m still that kind of fan, the fan whose life officially came to an end when Uyarndha Ullam bombed at the box office? (Terrible film, I know, but try telling that to a teen!) What if – like how unpleasant inner truths can bubble up and slap you senseless at the psychiatrist’s couch – this realisation happens now, as I’m sitting across him, and what if I begin to blather like an unstoppable idiot? Will the shadow-person sitting beside me, the one outside my skin, slink away from the room in horror, unable to stand, any longer, this spectacle of mortification?
But that’s just one side – the personal side. There’s also the professional aspect that you carry into such a meeting. Does Kamal Haasan read me, either in this paper or on my blog? If so, will he remember that I loathed Dasavatharam? And is he one to harbour a grudge? Will he use this opportunity to tick me off, to tell me a few things about why the film is nowhere as bad as my hysterical rejection of it would appear to indicate? Or won’t he care? Perhaps, to him, I’m just another pesky reporter, hardly worth bothering about, and perhaps he just swatted away my opinions about the film – assuming he read them in the first place – like how a nonchalant Sydney Greenstreet swatted away flies in Casablanca. Or maybe he remembers me from my positive evaluation of Man Madan Ambu, an imperfect yet hardly insignificant film that few seem to have gotten, fewer still seemed to have liked. Who really knows? Who can really tell?
And how do these interactions impact the work that you do? Regular readers know, by now, my feelings about the critical profession, that it can never really be free of personal bias. (There is, therefore, no such thing as an objective critic.) So the problem isn’t whether my personal predilection for Kamal Haasan’s work colours my writing about his films. That it surely does – you cannot be a fan of Tendulkar and not have it show, at least if you’re honest with yourself, and taken that way, even my profound disappointment with Dasavatharam could be just a factor of a fan’s crushed expectations, and perhaps if I’d cared less about Kamal Haasan’s body of work, the legacy he was leaving, I wouldn’t have cared so much about how graceless the film turned out, or how he doesn’t act in all that many films anymore, or that he looks a little ridiculous costarring with actresses half his age, or that he hasn’t directed anything after the magnificent Virumaandi.
The baggage you bring with you, about an actor (or any creator), is never the problem as long as your readers know about it and you don’t pretend otherwise. The real problem is whether an interaction with an actor (or a director or a painter) can begin to influence the way you think about their work. A really persuasive creative person can be something of a hypnotist – and an accomplished actor especially so – and you could easily be swayed into thinking about their work in a particular way. The foundation of criticism (or rather analysis, which is the way I prefer to see it) is that you look at the film through your eyes and deliver your opinions, but what if meeting an artist makes you begin to look through their eyes? Will you, then, begin to deliver their opinions? But will the reader really care so long as you present an original prism to view the work through? I must say that the mind is as clouded in a fog of incomprehensible emotion after meeting Kamal Haasan as before.
Copyright ©2011 The New Sunday Express. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Aurora Vampiris
February 6, 2011
Well, that was pretty pointless as an article, wasn’t it? I mean, why not just treat him as a very talented person? Respect is different from fanboy-ism.
Either way, yes, critics should be allowed to meet the stars. You said it yourself – an opinion is inherently subjective and as such can be anyone’s as long as it’s justified. Either way, I doubt a star would be able to influence a critic in such a manner – you guys are way too adamant and egocentric to be influenced. Else Armond White would’ve stopped being a troll a long time ago. 😛
And you kept us in suspense – how did the meeting go?
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chhote saab
February 6, 2011
Very interesting piece. There is a pro and a con for everything – ‘ The foundation of criticism (or rather analysis, which is the way I prefer to see it) is that you look at the film through your eyes and deliver your opinions, but what if meeting an artist makes you begin to look through their eyes? ‘ – but maybe getting some insight into the artist’s thought process will help you analyse their work better. I guess, in an ideal world, you would watch the movie and review it thru’ your eyes and then interact with the artist to get an insight into their thought process (just like for us readers, it is better to watch a movie and then read your review/analysis).
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theusualblogger
February 6, 2011
Uyarndha Ullam was bad?!! The spoilt rich brat who becomes the wise auto-driver!! I still choke up when V.K. Ramaswamy dies. Although I guess there is a difference between watching it in theatre with all the fanboy enthusiasm and watching it on a Saturday afternoon in KTV.
Also I see that the Rajini fans haven’t been kind to you. 2 mentions in a single article. Ouch.
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Gradwolf
February 6, 2011
@theusualblogger: Quite frankly, it’s a little difficult to handle the Rajini fans(for us Kamal fans). They are never kind. They nitpick 😀
BR: I see you took my comment on your “dispassionate” writing a little too seriously 😀 Of course there are exceptions. And it does show in writings of Kamal. Though it doesn’t show as often(far less) as it does with other film critics.
Any particular instance from that evening that made reevaluate a work of his from his point of view? I can’t think of any and really spoke only about Hey Ram and no other film. (Of course you met a couple of times more probably, so was wondering if there was something else that prompted you to think differently or anything).
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Mojo
February 6, 2011
haha.
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SB
February 6, 2011
Well then again..Being a critic is just the same of being an actor. You need to be able to perform to your best to keep your audience roped in. As you said in the last few lines the challenge lies when you start delivering the opinion of the actor through your views. But the reader is smart enough to discern this and the result will be the same as the one of the actor. Why do we need a prism if it does not scatter and tell the light for what it truly is?
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Hari
February 6, 2011
Maybe this is the way I would feel when I get to interview Amitabh for the first time-similar to you defending ‘uyarntha ullam’, I have tried to defend many trashy BigB movies(toofan, akayla even mrityudaata) in front of my friends.
All the excitement on reading this piece apart, wouldn’t an artist’s imagination, his take on his own movie(say Kamal’s take on ‘hey Ram’, how Ananthu was one of the figures who inspired him to make the film, how he wanted to make a movie on Babri Masjid etc.) enhance a critic’s understanding, positively color his opinion? I believe this would make film analysis more multi-dimensional, especially one by a writer like you who has experienced such a variegated exposure. The difference between genuine, informed admiration and jingoism easily shows.
This article would surely make an interesting foreward, when you decide, with all your rich analyses, to write a book about him(perhaps)?
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Prasanna
February 6, 2011
bravo! one of those pieces up there with the best, baddie! rock on!
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Prasanna
February 6, 2011
also, to quote from one of thalaivar movies – ‘nee po naayakare, naanga irulom, nee po!’ ;p with the same sentiment and emotional loyalty. directed at all sane and sensible kamal fans as much as kamal himself. as of now kama is experienceing ezharai sani, thas all. he will bounce back.
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Venki
February 6, 2011
Well I do hope Kamal reads this piece. 🙂
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Jagannath
February 6, 2011
You are the only Indian movie critic whom I admire. It pains to see that you even you are not insulated from getting starry eyed. Trust me, it’s really fine if you meet your childhood hero in flesh and blood. But as Groucho Marx said something like, when you meet your hero their stature diminishes. Hope you didn’t take his autograph. Self-absorption can be a critic’s biggest undoing.
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vj_74
February 6, 2011
“Should people who comment on art – namely critics and reviewers and other assorted chroniclers of pop culture – be allowed to meet the artist? ”
You should ask this question to Suhasini who does film reviews on TV. Talk about conflict of interest. Suhasini defines it.
But what I am more interested in is, how has your experience of being a screenwriter and involved with the mechanics of film-making affected the way you look at things. That could be worth a separate piece.
After you have been a screenwriter, when you sit down to view a film these days do you find yourself critiquing it more from a writing point of view? Like “I would have written it this way” or “I wouldn’t have had that line there” and so on?
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vj_74
February 6, 2011
“Or maybe he remembers me from my positive evaluation of Man Madan Ambu, an imperfect yet hardly insignificant film that few seem to have gotten”
So if someone doesn’t care for a film that you liked, it means they didn’t get the film? 🙂
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vj_74
February 6, 2011
And BTW, Uyarndha Ullam must be a classic compared to Per sollum Pillai, Kamal’s worst movie in the second half of the eighties and one of his all-time worst movies. It regularly makes it to the top of my “10 films Kamal should be most embarrassed about ” list, mainly because he chose to do that film at that point in his career. If he had done that before Sakalakalaa vallavan I wouldn’t have had any problems.But he did it right before Nayagan. Yikes.
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Hari
February 6, 2011
Digression alert
Would be value-enhancing if a seasoned writer like you can provide your take on this…
http://www.hindu.com/lr/2011/02/06/stories/2011020650330600.htm
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kasimuthu
February 6, 2011
Ranga – Swallow the tears man. Why all the hubbub? You met, saw and finito. Get on with it big guy
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bran1gan
February 6, 2011
Jagannath: Sorry to disappoint you, but I did take his autograph 🙂
vj_74: Being a critic already means that you’re writing through a bit of the “how I would have done it” prism. When you say this works or this doesn;t work, what you’re really saying is that you’d have done it differently.
Hari: That was an interesting article, thanks. Well, the use of language has already become very functional, hasn’t it? We live in a country where everyone, apparently, understands English, and a lot of them have been reading and writing English from childhood, and yet, the writing in the papers is appalling. I get the feeling that people spend something like half-an-hour on their stories, rewriting included. That’s a long discussion there.
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Venkatesh
February 7, 2011
BR : Very well written .
A hypothetical question – lets assume Kamal Hassan reads your articles regularly including this one – Now how would you write this article if you had that information ?
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munimma
February 7, 2011
Will you change anything of what you wrote if you knew Kamal was reading it? I don’t think so.
BTW, I too liked uyarntha ullam. But of course, we are of the same generation.
This is one of the reasons I never feel the itch to go meet the actors and/or get their autographs. Although I would make an exception for him (probably just him). They are 2 different people, aren’t they?
And I totally hear you about ’em tharai ticketers 😉
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MumbaiRamki
February 7, 2011
BR,
To express the understanding , you have presented the dilemma of the admirer meeting the admired , while at the same time maintain the wholesome identity that we have created for years for ourselves.
I think that we like a thing first and then look , search , find for reasons to like it and not the reverse. So even if you try hard to separate the fan boy in you from the critic , you cannot do that,as u have written . And meeting the star is going to influence it for sure, especially in the reviews thats written following it . But 6 months down the line, its only the fan boy that influences and not this meeting !
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vijay
February 7, 2011
BR, but having been through the rigors of it, has the experience made you more sympathetic or more critical of the current screenwriting that you evaluate as a critic? Thats what I actually meant. Has the experience of being a hired filmwriter changed things a bit? You talked about how constrained the writer is and how the director calls all the shots and all that.
But I think that is something for us to answer,ultimately:-) We would be better positioned to judge whether your experience of working with a director has mellowed you a bit or has made you even more critical.
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Shankar
February 7, 2011
Ultimately, I would say…just be who you are. Your likes/dislikes and admirations for people and things are what makes your writing interesting…it’s your perspective. The moment you try to change that, your credibility is lost. So, just let it be…
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apala
February 9, 2011
BR,
Nicely put……….Nothing wrong in being awestruck when meeting your hero from childhood (still a hero to some extend!!!)……and being honest about it made your article more “accessible” and as Shankar said above, your credibility goes to unbound limits…..I sincerely hope Kamal reads this piece.
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bran1gan
February 9, 2011
Venkatesh/munimma: There’s no way to answer that question for sure. I hope not. But who knows? We’re all flawed human beings first, critics only later, no? 🙂
vijay: The only thing that I’ve consciously done after becoming a hired screenwriter is to stop referring to anyone but the director in my reviews. Earlier, if I liked a line or a stretch of a well-written scene, I’d mention the screenwriter, but now that I know how things actually work, I’m uncomfortable attributing anything to anyone but the director because no one can say for sure who did what.
But that apart, I don’t think I’ve become especially sympathetic. In the sense that I was always considered a reviewer who was never too harsh, and I guess I continue on my quest to Nobel Peace Prize-dom 🙂
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rameshram
February 9, 2011
“We’re all flawed human beings first, critics only later, no? ”
Speak for yourself. (I only criticize all (youse poor unfortunate) people because I’m perfect.)
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munimma
February 16, 2011
And here I thought flaws happened only to other people.
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rameshram
February 17, 2011
minimma ,
that’s fleas.
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Rohit Ramachandran
May 21, 2011
Just wow. A bold, bold article. Great work.
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Arun
December 27, 2011
Thanks for the piece. You need great courage to write this article. It reminded me of this:
http://www.espncricinfo.com/magazine/content/story/404844.html
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Aram
February 23, 2017
Funny that I got to this just now. This “Abirami Abirami” Guna mode of yours is fun to read (and watch it mentally)
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brangan
February 23, 2017
Wow, what a blast from the past. Thanks for the reminder 🙂
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sanjana
February 23, 2017
Better not to meet them or meet them frequently. They must be smirking and enjoying the aura they create and make mortals like us feel overwhelmed. You sounded like a teenager describing your experience. You should not have in my opinion. I want you to be as haughty and exclusive as them.
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