REMEMBERING M. K. T.

Remembering M.K.T.

A forgotten superstar

According to a newspaper report published recently, the famous singer and film star, M.K.Thyagaraja Bhagavathar is no longer remembered even in his hometown. This goes to show how fickle fame could be and how short the public memory.

Blind love

I still remember the days when MKT bestrode the Tamil film world like a colossus. He was a great romantic hero and a heartthrob among female fans. In Ashok Kumar (1941) he is blind for about half the film and then he regains his sight miraculously. Towards the end of the film, the hero disgusted with the events he sees around him says, "I would rather not have eyes to see all this". And then he attempts to put out his eyes by thrusting two spears into them. The moment he did this a number of women in the theatre screamed and broke into sobs. Anyway, nothing happened to his eyes since there was another divine intervention, and presumably the lovers lived happily ever after.

MKT's singing voice had a timbre that was unique, and he enunciated the words with a clarity that made the song very attractive. Most of his films had music by Papanasam Sivan. The tunes were simple, with a minimum of background music. Most filmgoers were able to hum these tunes when they came out of the theatre. The later films of MKT had music by G.Ramanathan and K.V.Mahadevan.

Haridas (1944) ran continuously for nearly three years. His other hits included Chintamani (37), Thiruneelakandar (39) and Sivakavi (43). All the songs in these films became very famous.

Star crossed lovers

I saw many of the MKT films in a touring theatre (Paai Kottagai) in our town. One of my favourites was Ambikapathy (1937). In it MKT plays a sensitive and gentle young man, the son of the great poet Kambar. He falls in love with Amaravathi, the daughter of the Chola king, Kulothungan. Amaravathi was played by Santhanalakshmi, a plain looking actress with no sex appeal whatsoever. The dialogue was quaint and outdated. (Praana Naadha!), and yet there was a tenderness in the love scenes that tugged at one's heartstrings.

A later version of Ambikapathy had a heavy-jowled , overacting hero with a paunch and a buxom and saucy heroine romping about in the midday sun, eyes crinkling in the glare, and pretending it was moonlight. Compared to this, MKT's Ambikapathy was a technically well made film. Later I came to know that the director, Ellis R.Dungan had been heavily influenced by George Cukor's 1936 version of Romeo and Juliet. There is a balcony scene in Ambikapathy too. The duet "Chandra sooriyar poam gathi maarinum veezhinum namakkenna" is a high point in the romance. The lovers sit on a moonlit beach with the waves glinting in the background and sing in gentle melodic stretches.

There was one scene that had the elements of an old detective story. Ambikapathy goes to the palace to attend a function. According to the custom those days, he smears a lot of sandal paste on his bare chest. The princess gestures to him to come upstairs. Though hesitant at first, Ambikapathy goes up unable to resist the call of love. The king, who has been observing this, calls Kambar and takes him upstairs where the young lovers are discovered. "They must have been just talking" says Kambar. The king then points to the patches of sandal paste on Amaravathi's cheek - a result of her resting her head on Ambikapathy's chest. Eventually Ambigapathy is sent to his death and Amaravathi follows him out of this world.

I watched this film as a small boy and I noticed a number of women coming out of the theatre with tears streaming down their cheeks, weeping unabashedly. Today's audiences seldom react this way. And that perhaps is the reason why MKT has been forgotten.

J.VASANTHAN

(e-mail: jvasanthan@sancharnet.in)

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