'Uttama Villain': Art of immortality

'I am a man first and then an actor,’ says Manoranjan, the super-successful actor, played by Kamal Haasan in one of the many intensely sub-texted moments in Uttama Villain.

 This, then, is also the most biographical films written by Kamal, about life and art from a humane, spiritual and philosophical perspective.

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For those who make time-tested distinctions about cinema, please note that it is not an art film nor is it a commercial film. It is intelligent cinema with seamless integration of performance, music, story-telling and visual wizardry. No doubt, performance is king in Uttama Villain, where every actor has a raison d’être. Director Ramesh Aravind and Kamal give each of them defined spaces that will make them proud to have been part of this venture.

 Interlacing two time zones, one set in an era, ‘so long ago, very long ago, you don’t know how long ago’ (and listen to this being said by the late K Balachander on-screen) and one in contemporary times, Uttama Villain is rich in symbolism, and that is what makes the film stay with you.

 Both zones, however, have the common factors – the actor, the man and the villain. Manoranjan, the actor, is a villain to many; he too doesn’t go by codes of convention. Uttaman is a full-rounded performer – often telling us, ‘I am just an actor, what can I do.’ With both roles, Kamal once again defines why he is one of the world’s top performers.

 Uttama Villain is about how Manoranjan uses love and mortality to heal wounds, and how Uttaman uses art to correct a societal wrong, reminding us that art isn’t all that toothless or ‘nail-less.’

 The film covers almost all existential angst that Kamal, as a person, an actor and an artist, might have observed and experienced in his life, which makes you wonder, often, if this is Kamal putting a mirror to his own self.

 Finally, in its reminder about how boring life would be if it never ends and that only art and love can rise above it all, Kamal also makes one lasting powerful statement that will resonate in the minds of every creative professional.

 In his own inimitable manner, Kamal covers many turfs – from a quick reference to the age-old squabble over the two sects in Hinduism to gentle reminders about the quirkiness of modern-day artists and youth.

 Uttama Villain could perhaps be perceived as long and a trifle over-indulgent at times. But it is in its self-defined pace that the film also finds its philosophical depth.

 Not in recent memory has a film come through, where music and choreography (especially of theyyam and villupattu) become characters themselves. Full marks to M. Ghibran, the young music composer.

 Rising to the occasion are Nasser, Andrea Jeremiah, Pooja, Urvashi and Parvathy Menon, who capture screen space with their sheer talent. Jayaram is not an actor you might miss in the proceedings.

 Needless to say, legendary director K Viswanath (as Manoranjan’s father-in-law) and late K Balachander leave you awed – and remind you that they are the reason why several of our actors are what they are today. A special note of appreciation goes to Bhaskar, as Manoranjan’s manager, for essaying a role that could have spun out of control into melodrama.

 Uttama Villain is Kamal’s ode to art and life. Do not go in hoping to catch an escapist cinema. That would be doing injustice not to Kamal, but to art itself.

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