Fam-Com in the time of Family

On my visit to Chennai I picked up a couple of Tamil movies for my grandfather. Most of the films were from the 50s and early 60s and I had heard of them through my mother. My grandfather had seen all the films but he was more than happy to give them a second spin. We first watched பாமா விஜயம் (Bama Vijayam) late into the night; though a bit dated in its sentiments it was a competent enough film with a few laughs along the way.

The next morning we fell to discussing Tamil films of the mid 50s (about which my grandfather of course knew a fair bit) and came to the general consensus that as a rule they were superior to their better known Hindi counterparts. Part of this is because of a theatrical tradition in Tamil Nadu, பாமா விஜயம் for e.g. boasts a few actors who had been trained in a theatrical tradition and knew how to deliver lines with confidence, my grandfather in fact knew the theatre troupes that the actors belonged to. As an e.g. Nagesh is sort of the Johnny Walker of the South but with a much expanded acting range. And while the nature of acting has changed and the actor of the 50s is far too mannered for our times, the training and conventions they follow are all too visible. The other giveaways are the scripts, which are a lot tighter and internally consistent than the average Hindi film of the same era. Additionally they place a great deal of emphasis on the beauty, ambiguity and vagaries of language. Admittedly, some of this is lost on me but it is not hard to see that the films are for an audience appreciative of both language and its manipulation. Bar the songs, this is rarely to be found in a 1950s Hindi film.

Like many other Tamil movies of the time, பாமா விஜயம் is a family drama or perhaps more correctly a family comedy (the fam-com!). Perhaps I am wrong but it seems a genre native to South India, as sturdy and long lasting in its conventions as the romantic comedy. It almost seems to come to life in the 50s as a genre, many earlier Tamil films that I have seen appear to be historicals and mythologicals. Many of the films deal with a multi-generational family set-up with defined roles for all members. No matter what course the film follows, all require the rehabilitation of the paterfamilias role and a return to family order. Both the strain of family bonds and their ultimate cohesiveness are explored though the catalyst is often a familiar outsider like a faithful family retainer. In one way or the other the genre still lives on, in particular in the many serials that choke TV channels, indicating that at least the ideal of family life in India has remained relatively unchanged.

The discussion on Tamil cinema seemed to energise my grandfather and we both left the table in the happy haze that lingers after an interesting discussion. On my return to Sydney, he watched a few more and we talked about them over the phone. I meant to go back and talk a little more of the movies he had seen and the theatre groups that existed in Tamil Nadu. That is not to be.

In the last years of his life my grandfather wrote incessantly to me, perhaps he didn’t want his thoughts to be forgotten. Those discussions are now stilled. There is an element of sadness in that but there is also much in a person’s life that is unsaid. My grandfather lived long but even a long life has its silences and is ultimately rendered ephemeral. What my grandfather thought is now fragmented - lodged here and there in a few of us but also scattered to the winds. And so it is and should be.