Readers Write In #802: Celluloid love

By Ananya Natarajan

ஆசைய காத்துல தூது விட்டு

I have never been in a relationship.

So naturally, my idea of romance is informed by an (un)holy Trinity – 1) early 2000s movies, 2) Jane Austen novels and 3) observing couples around me. They have some interesting interplay too.

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The first one has a spectrum. The romantic films of Vijay’s chocolate boy era annoy me to no end. They have a consistent ‘taming of the shrew’ narrative that barely show any variation. Persistent male lead with no concept of consent. Check. Vast generalisations about the female populace. Check. Go ahead love, give us nothing.

The reel romances that did have an impact on me were usually understated side tracks in a bigger story. Take Kannathil Muthamittal, for instance. A flashback snippet shows the budding love story between Tamilselvan and Indra before they adopt Amudha. They banter, challenge and protect each other. Indra chides Tamil when he writes a short story about a baby in a refugee camp – is that the extent of his compassion? Tamil becomes irate when a prospective groom for Indra fishes for gossip. Their romance is merely a prelude – yet it adds a new dimension to the existing family dynamics.

Mounam Pesiyadhe is an (anti-)romance that is close to my heart. It takes common Tamil romance tropes – unrequited love, misunderstandings, elopement – and does unexpected things with them. The major crux of the movie involves the male lead – who is a morattu single – falling in love. A hilarious scene involves convincing a girl who is about to run away from her wedding to stay for her father’s happiness. There are all manners of relationships in the movie –immature crushes and deep-rooted friendships. Perhaps, this is Ameer’s way of saying that love resides in unpredictable quarters.

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The first time read Pride and Prejudice was when I was in sixth grade. I found the story winding and couldn’t understand what the fuss was about. I was partial to Jane Eyre instead, which felt more passionate and straightforward in its emotions. Tamil movies had shaped my nascent brain to expect that love is loud, heady and reckless. You couldn’t get more reckless than Edward Rochester.

Now, in my 20s, I read both the books again. The former has taken the position of one of my favourite pieces of literature. There is a gentle humour that is diffused throughout. As it giggles at the absurdity of pompous actions, it weaves a tapestry of character arcs that never stay flat. The eventual lovers start in the wrong foot and grow to understand each other through the novel.

Jane Eyre still remains close to my heart as a journey of a woman who tries to make a place for herself in an unyielding world. However, I side-eye Mr Rochester heavily now.

Kandukondain Kandukondain adapts Jane Austen’s character dynamics to the Tamil landscape. Inspired by Sense and Sensibility, the Dashwood estate becomes a Karaikudi mansion, an English colonel morphs into a soldier who loses his leg in the Sri Lankan war and a young lover awaiting an inheritance becomes an impulsive businessman. While Sowmya and Meenakshi retain the spirit and trajectories of their counterparts in the novel, they have a strongly Tamil characterisation. Sowmya is reminiscent of a long-suffering and uncomplaining KB heroine, albeit a milder version. Meenakshi is an addition to the pantheon of free-spirited and impulsive heroines, in the tradition of Mani Ratnam. Their romantic journeys are bumpy rides with an inevitable happy ending.

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It was during college that people around me started getting into relationships. The real was so different from the reel. Starting a relationship was the end of the movie and the beginning of life. The montages of park/beach/cinema forms only 10% of the relationships. The rest were heated arguments, co-dependency and grand birthday gestures.

I suppose you get hurt, learn and get better at relationships. It is usually a one and done deal in cinema. Oruvanukku oruthi. It is so much more non-linear in reality. Perhaps, it might be obvious to some. But I truly was not prepared to see how volatile relationships could be. There were barely a sprinkling of long-term stable relationships in the sea.

Again, who do I blame for this mismatch? The reel shows that love is eternal – difficult, but worth fighting for. Everywhere around me, love is fleeting. Even in long term relationships and marriages, it seems to die eventually and people are resigned to it.

Perhaps, cinema is a way to achieve this particular fantasy of eternal love. We do not know what happens to the on-screen couple after the screen goes blank. We assume that they would lead joyful lives in each other’s company. And we vicariously live through them. After all, one must imagine Sisyphus happy.