Elippathayam - a Retrospective

I had made an absurd claim, a few years ago. ‘Malayalam cinema got better in the 2010s, and emerged exceptional during and after the pandemic’. I don’t chide myself though. Growing up in the early 2000s, an era which was filled mostly with absolutely pointless flicks in Mollywood (at least the ones I watched), while at the same time films like Lord of the Rings, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind blew me over, this mindset was inevitable.

As my fascination in film grew, I have gradually realised the beauty of the Mollywood antiquity. One such film that completely broke down all my notions, was Adoor Gopalakrishnan’s 1982 magnum opus, ‘Elippathayam’.A landmark in the Parallel/New-wave cinema, Elippathayam is set in the era of transition in 1960-70s in the socio-political order of Kerala, with breakdown of the age-old feudal system and the emergence of the world’s first democratically elected Communist government.

Unni (Karamana Janardanan Nair) lives in a dilapidated, ‘tharavad’/ manor, with his younger sisters, Rajamma and Sridevi. Wallowing in the ‘karnavar’ status of the then frowned upon Marumakkathayam system, Unni is selfish, domineering, socially recluse individual. He takes very good care of himself, constantly oiling himself, trimming his nails and moustache and bathing strictly at a certain temperature. He perpetually remains at the ‘poomukham’ or Veranda of the house. He wears white jubba and mundu, clothes considered typical of the landlords, yet fading like the very system he was holding on to. The vertical stripes on his shirts depicts his restlessness. According to director Adoor Gopalakrishnan, Unni has ‘taken the remains of something which had already gone by’. He is what Everett Rogers calls a ‘laggard’, someone who refuses to changes according to times and is stuck in his old ways. 

Rajamma (Sarada) is the archetypal Kerala long-suffering home-maker, who yearns for freedom, and love, but is confined to caring for her haughty brother. She is a ‘slave’ stuck in yesteryear, almost choosing to be subjected to her brother’s insane demands. She does not oppose him or express her wishes. She wears shades of blue, signifying the eternal submission she poses. 

This is entirely contrasted to Sreedevi (Jalaja), who romanticises life, at the cusp of adulthood. She refuses to be a slave, and is strong in her ideals. She, in red, represents power, revolution, love and modernity. She is curious and has opens herself up to modernity.

Whether Unni has OCD, Bipolar disorder, paranoia or is just simply lazy is unclear up until the ending of the film. He is the definition of a typical feudal lord, refusing to do anything but mind his own business and order people around, like him calling out to Rajamma to get rid of a cow, or to reheat the water for his bath. He is indifferent to the people near him and is royally afraid of the new. He refuses to try out romance or to step into the puddle to get to a wedding. Even when thieves were stealing from his farm, he simply ignores it (social anxiety much!). He even hesitates to marry off Rajamma, trapping her to become his chattel. We are introduced to Mathai, a ‘Gulfkaran’, who Unni dismissed as a coward and senseless person. His utter disdain for his fellows ultimately becomes his doom. After Rajamma is carried away, he ‘traps’ himself in the house resorting to psychosis, leaving the house is a further crumbling into destruction.

Their elder sister, Janamma (Rajam.K. Nair), is a strong independent lady, who is not shackled by the system. She has married outside the custom and is already rebelling against the system by demanding her share of the land. She refuses to be ordered around by Unni. She wears green signifying practicality.

The way Unni was chased down and dropped into the water mirrored exactly with the previous rat-killings. The way Unni emerged from the water with his hands raised was meant to mirror the pose of a rat, when threatened. The ending remain ambiguous as to give way for improvement and introspection.

Ultimately, Elippathayam is about rebellions and departures.

Sridevi rebels against this trap that befell her family by eloping, possibly with the handsome teacher she mentioned in the first act. Rajamma rebels finally by falling sick and presumably dying. Meenakshi, a tribal woman, by approaching the tharavdu for hair oil and requesting the unthinkable, for an opportunity to bath at the manor pool. She also tries to woo Unni, thus signifying the crumbling social structure and independence for the so-called ‘keeladis’.

The 6 departures in the film- rats being carried out the house to be killed thrice, both Rajamma and Unni being carried out the same way the rats were and Sridevi departing from the house is a stark exploration of the central theme.

The film is also packed with symbolism…The humans essentially becoming the rats becomes a brilliant mise en abyme. The child who walks through the puddle signifies people accepting modernity, ready to face life’s challenges head on. Sridevi’s strive for modernity and Rajamma’s close-mindedness is apparent in the scene where the airplane is visible only to Sridevi. The house itself becomes a character in the story. The door opens and closes with the same cadence of the rat trap introduced at the beginning. The roof closing in also transforms the house into the rat-trap. The cinematographer does an exquisite job in equating the decaying tharavad with the collapsing family relations. Behind the wonderful visuals and wide-shots, eeriness and silence pulls through.

The score is dark, eerie, incomplete, insufferable even, only apparent during the rat murder scenes. The rest of the film is filled with silences and nature sounds. The dialogues are also muted or completed ignored by the receiver, doubling down on the tension prevalent throughout the film.

The only drawback I felt was the treatment of Meenakshi. Instead of showing her as a strong tribal woman living through discrimination, she is depicted as a thief and over-sensual, confirming people’s preconceived notion of these people. She is viewed perpetually through a male gaze unlike the other women.

 

TIDBITS-

• This is Adoor Gopalakrishnan’s first colour film, which seems surprising as we watch it now, due to adept exploration of theme using colour theory.
• The score was created using traditional instruments and slowed down and pitched up artificially giving its distinct eeriness.
• The camera movement was mostly placed indoors to make audiences feel as claustrophobic as the characters did.
• The film was shot in reverse order. The paranoid dishevelled Unni was shaped after weeks of liquid diet, which gradually improved as the shoot progressed
• The characters were meant to mirror Adoor’s family and his life in a feudal family.
• The irony in the film lies in the fact that Adoor himself refuses to accept change and move towards the modern way of filmmaking. He, like Unni, has a strict method od doing things, the shots and editing being as raw and stark as possible.
• The film premiered at the 1982 Cannes Film Festival. It was also screened at the London Film Festival where it won the Sutherland Trophy, only the second Indian film to do so, after The World of Apu, by Satyajit Ray.
• Additionally, it won the Best Film at the 1982 Kerala State Film Awards and ‘Best sound’ and ‘Best Malayalam feature film’ at the 29^th National Film awards.

 

I am Unni, Unni is me!