On Sivaji's Legacy

 What is Sivaji's legacy? As an audience who now have access to international films with subtle acting, how do we receive Barrister Rajinikanth, a role donned by Sivaji in Gauravam? Yes, there's a certain போஸ்டர்லயே ஓவெராக்ட் பண்ணுவார் dimension to him. But as a people we were, and to some extent still are, quite dramatic - we fight in the middle of the street, stop talking to our siblings for decades over minor faux paus, and still are able to forgive a murderer. The room கட்டபொம்மன், a larger-than-life role, has for theatrics is not in any way smaller than what Raju, a simple family man, has in பாசமலர், because they operate in the same emotional milieu.


What Sivaji did, in my very humble opinion, was to set a really high standard for dramatics. Take any of his contemporaries, say S.S.Rajendran or Ravichandran, for example. Watch any 30-second clip of them, and you'll realize that they set the gold standard for a தத்தி நடிகன். To continue to push the boundaries amidst such mediocrity is a phenomenal achievement in itself. Like all great actors, he had excellent technique and a sharp instinct and knew when to drop his technique and rely on his instinct.

I watch the linked scene from தெய்வமகன் at least twice a year. The rich dad with a scarred face has given away his first born who has a similar deformity. They meet for the first time after decades. A few minutes later the second son walks in. All are played by Sivaji. The father is guilt-ridden, the first son is bereft of familial joy and the second son, born with a silver spoon, doesn't know how good he has it. If you were to plot their emotional valences of these three characters on a 3D graph, they would be far apart. It's just pure pleasure to watch Sivaji flesh out these roles, but especially the father, who has to transition from shock to guilt to sadness to anger to resignation and finally to acceptance. You can play this in any film school.

When the mukha abinayas from Bharatanatyam are high-art, why is a crying Sivaji with his trembling lips and dancing eyebrows not art? This is not a false equivalence: Sivaji's performances are like choreography. When the stories, characters and situations are morally very clearly demarcated, when the setting doesn't have the modernist shades-of-grey complexities, we have to compare Tamil cinemas of the Sivaji era to operas. And we don't expect subtlety from operas.

Finally, I don't think our cultural icons should be exempt from ridicule. Jeyamohan has ridiculed Sivaji for good measure and I've heard that Kamal would criticize Sivaji's performances. In a twisted rationale, us making fun of icons is what keeps them alive. There are so many performances from other actors that we don't talk about because they're bland and forgettable. Sivaji broke new ground, but some of his styles are now passé. But in the very act of single-handedly moving the goalpost farther for acting, he set the stage for Kamal to be received and appreciated for his realistic portrayals. If we didn't have Sivaji, then Kamal would have had to fill that void.

In essence, Sivaji is not a mass consumer product whose sell-by date has passed. (That would be M.G.R, and very soon, Rajinikanth).  But as long as we consider cinema an art and accept that this art evolves in different ecosystems at varying pace depending on market pressures and social identities, then what Sivaji created is art.

St. Louis Fed Comedy Tweet

Lol.

The right axis is for the US and the left axis is for the rest of the countries. I had to check the account wasn't hacked.

 My 13 year old, listening to Kpop: Did you know a parent pulled a gun on one of the students and that's why they had a shelter-in-place at school yesterday?

Me, somewhat stunned: What... what exactly happened?

Her: I'll tell you after this song ends. I really like this one.

Musk's Twitter Tantrums

About a week ago, Twitter's 3rd party clients like Twitterrific stopped working. They had no idea what was going on. Even worse, they didn't have anyone to talk to at Twitter because the comms team had been gutted soon after Musk took over. After a week, here's the official word:

Third party clients have contributed a lot to the Twitter experience (retweets, pull down to refresh, heck even the blue bird logo). And the users accessing Twitter from these clients form a minuscule percentage of an already shrinking user base. It's very on brand for Musk to revoke the API credentials of solid partners, lollygag for a week and then issue a half-ass ignominious statement from the TwitterDev@ account. I'm sad for the indie developers who are affected by this. Hope they land on their feet elsewhere.

In the last two months, whatever little regard I had for Musk has been burned. He is smart and he has built impressive things. But since his takeover, his range of actions remind me of a middle-school bully and a toddler at the same time, if that even makes sense. Firing employees indiscriminately without decent severance, halting rent payments on their leased buildings, and releasing broken features in the name of shipping fast... all marks of a toddler lashing out at their parent for being forced to do what he didn't want to do, which in this case is buying Twitter after he tried to pedal back.

With such tantrums, Musk is waving a bright red flag to all smart engineers who might have _some_ interest in working for one of his companies. He's already antagonized mainstream media by slavishly aligning with extreme right-wing nuts. Many active users of the service have closed their accounts and/or moved to Mastodon. At this rate, we'll have a skeleton crew running the infrastructure and a significantly shrunk user base that don't want to go elsewhere because they love it. My wish and hope, is that in about six months when Musk is tired of servicing his Twitter debt ($1B/month) and his personal wealth greatly diminished (which is tied to Tesla market cap, which is still overvalued) and his other successful bets have suffered a big churn, he'll sell Twitter at a steep discount to a PE and they'll take start managing it like professionals.

Richard Russo's Compassion

I'm reading Everybody's Fool, my fourth Russo novel. He specializes in telling the stories of everyday folks in a small town in New England. The sort of town you drive by and wonder who lives there and then forget all about it 10 minutes later. A town whose better days are well behind it, whose capable citizens have all moved out a long time ago. So, who lives there?

The eclectic bunch that Russo presents us are street smart, plain dumb, woefully lazy, super industrious, morally upright and downright despicable. We laugh at them, and then we laugh with them. We see them cry and share their pain. Families are broken, but they still try to carry on. Sons try to be better than their fathers, and they're perennially wondering what their sons will think of them. Men are tired of not moving up the economic ladder, women are tired of never being understood, kids do stupid shit and old men get on a barstool and tell the same old jokes. These people are miserable and lovely. In the hands of a lesser writer I would have hated these characters. But Russo tells the stories of these people poignantly. We see a little bit of ourselves in these creatures. It's hard to love them, just like it's hard to be kind to ourselves at times. But Russo's compassion makes it possible.

Mr Inbetween

Mr Inbetween, the excellent Australian low-key drama is about Ray Shoesmith, a hitman for hire. But that's just one dimension of Ray. Yes, we see him shake down people, kill them, bury them, pocket his pay and drive home with the satisfaction of an autoworker who's put together a neat car. But he's also a father, divorcee, boyfriend, friend and a brother. While there are car chases and shootouts, the real drama's at home.

Ray is a very protective father, a caring brother, an emotionally distant son, a reliable friend and a loving boyfriend. The super economic screenplays, at 30-minute-an-episode 3 season run, construct an authentic, relatable human being. The writing is uniformly excellent: when the humor is dark, as is often the case, it's quite dark. But it doesn't stay that way. The most touching scenes establish what a great father and brother he is, almost wanting me to forgive his other minor sins like killing people.

Brad Pitt in Bullet Train

This is a solid B, the kind I used to watch 20 minutes/day. Once Appa and I finished reading Kumarithuraivi, and before we settle on our next reading project, this movie filled the gap perfectly.

Brad Pitt's on a bullet train to steal a briefcase full of money. There are also a couple of assassins on the train, babysitting the son of a local mafia don. There's a innocent schoolgirl who's neither innocent nor a schoolgirl. And a venomous snake on the loose that probably has a social media following. Their stories intersect in complicated and illogical ways. The movie ends when the train crashes. But all of this is made palatable because Brad Pitt plays the cool dude, a simple criminal trying to put his past behind him, but guns and knives keeps getting in the way.

Here's a throwaway line from the movie, but made memorable because of the performers:

Brad Pitt: How would you like to make an easy $200?

Channing Tatum, after an appropriately curious pause: Is this a sex thing?