వెలుగు నీడలు - Unsung Heroes - 2

Cont'd from Part 1

What's with stage experience that ones that have it rave about and ones that don't crave for? Shouldn't acting be acting whether on stage or celluloid? If acting, as they say, is simply reacting, then what difference would it make if it is done in front of a live audience or for a passive one, as in the case of movies? However much an actor would benefit from an instant honest reaction while performing on stage, the real benefit that stage experience bestows a serious actor is understanding and adjusting to the tone of the moment, whether something needs to be dialed-up or down in just a matter of few seconds. And the 'tone' here is a pretty loaded word. It can mean the mood or the voice effect as well as the boundaries of operation for a given situation, even more so when there is no dialogue involved. And it is for this reason that all actors worth their salt flaunt their time on stage as a badge of validity/credibility certifying their ability to quickly adjust to their surroundings. And Kota is right up there with other stalwarts who can stand out in a frame regardless of whether he is at the center of the proceedings or its periphery. Viewers of early 80's telugu transmissions of Doordarshan would remember his efforts in plays both comedic and otherwise as 'ఇల్లలికిన ఈగ',  'హుష్ కాకి' and such, where he, along with Subbaraya Sarma, anchored the proceedings as main stays, earning his spurs as prime talent to watch out for in the coming future. More than the dramatic plays which had the luxury of strong writing and author-backed roles, it is the comedic side that is more challenging to any actor, particularly on stage, where he would be all alone as the sole focus of attention with little more than his talent and timing to come to his aid. And it is here that Kota ranks high above his illustrious predecessors and worthy compatriots with his acute sense of squeezing out humor even out of wry situations that is generally devoid of the usual comedic cues. Consider the following three scenarios that envelope Kota's comedic abilities and the rest in between go without saying.

The man dozing off in a corner is jolted into the present by the news of someone getting married. And off starts the rant with the hook phrase 'Cards Printed' where he contrasts the two marriage styles - arranged and deranged (love) - going on to prove that regardless, marriage is, in the end, a black hole sucking in the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness of every man. In fact, this is a long winded monologue without any explicit punchline. The entire joke is in the setup itself. On paper, the dialogue appears pretty flat without the usual setup-repartee volley. But what makes it work is Kota's splendid delivery mixing sarcasm, bitterness and worldly wisdom, warning the prospective groom from taking the plunge. The year was 1993 when loudness was being passed for comedy and physicality was reigning supreme with kicking one another as the defacto M.O. And in came 'Money' with a whiff of freshness and subtlety that was almost unheard of in telugu cinema, and Kota's 5 minute segment all delivered in broken English walked away with lion share of the honors. This is an actor in perfect sync with the mood the scene - somber, sullen and sunk - not going even an inch above the set tone, delivering what is otherwise the tragedy of two experiences turning sour in such a whirlwind fashion that the audience is caught breathless in overwhelming amazement at the end of the monologue. This is subtlety and smoothness rolled in one. If Dame Judi Dench could win an Oscar for a mere 10 minute role as Queen Elizabeth in 'Shakespeare in Love', then this stellar sequence lasting even lesser duration deserves no less for its impact and impression.

Exhibit No.2 - This is the bread and butter of telugu film comedy - loud, bumbling and near slapstick. Subtlety and nuance have no place here and it is all about announcing the intentions loud and clear. Case in point - 'శ్రీ కనకమాలక్ష్మీ రికార్డింగ్ డాన్స్ ట్రూప్', an ensemble piece with at least 5-6 characters occupying the frame at all times, interrupting and talking over each other constantly in a typical Vamsi fashion. All the tall talk about stage comes in handy here, when Kota had to respond to the cohabitants of the frame matching their rapid fire dialogues with equally loud physicality, all the while making sure that he wasn't going overboard. And Kota does just that. The moment he hands over the dialogue to the next character, the flailing of the limbs, the wild contortions of the face, the near constant movement of frustration and restlessness take over. This is not mere acting. This is choreography, this is ballet, and this is Mime, all rolled in one solid package. The highlight scene when Kota & troupe transform themselves into a legitimate dancing party meant to give pious performances across the temple circuit during the festival season, in order to convince నిర్మలమ్మ to part with her talented grandchild, is an exercise of bravura physical comedy. 'పాహి అని అశోకవనిని శోకించే సీత' played over different tempos, Kota ably molds the performance starting off as a straight legitimate dance master ending up as a raucous road show ring master. This is physical comedy at its best and Kota remains equally at ease with these floor gymnastics.

Lastly, the meaty roles, where the author shines more than the actor, and even then, the ones that actors still love to get their hands on. When 'comedy' and 'writer' are taken in the same breath, the word association automatically ends with one name - Jandhyala. As Sirivennala often lamented, there was no fun in writing for K.Viswanath, as the situations that he created automatically lent themselves for such high creativity and the additional prop and prep that he offered inevitably led to a lyric of stellar quality, with little in the way left for Sirivennala to stretch his aesthetic muscles. The same can be said for most of Jandhalya's works as the words themselves did most of the heavy lifting and all that the actor had to do was merely making sure that he didn't mess up (which again wasn't possible in such tightly controlled unit as Jandhyala's). Even in such cases, Kota refused to relax, this time chipping in with his inimitable intonation - 'సావిత్రమ్మను చూసి మన ఎంటీవోడు గద పిసకతావుండు', his entire portrayal as a committed skinflint in 'అహ నా పెళ్ళంట' and his recurring role as the bumbling police inspector 'తాడి మట్టయ్య' in 'Hello Brother' (this time from the EVV stable) and such. These are strong roles and equally strong portrayals. And for someone who has supreme command over the language, its different dialects, various pronunciations and varied intonations, Kota remains a writer's dream capable and committed enough to take on the complex and the challenging and deliver a result that is equally satisfying to both the creator and the consumer of the content.

Cont'd in next part - Villainy

వెలుగు నీడలు - Unsung Heroes - 1

'Character actor' - the term itself is a misnomer in acting parlance. As against what, the question would pop up, whenever someone is referred to as a 'character actor'. But then again, in the context of telugu movies, more so after a clear delineation occurred between the stars and the rest, the term 'character actor' appears not only apt but also warranted and befitting. And so it came to be that 'stars' could afford to be 'character-less' as long as there are strong supporting staff lending the proceedings the necessary heft and weight. As an example, the heroine gets chased, teased, hit upon, called names and pulled pranks on, on a daily basis. She gets irked, irritated and vexed (in that order), so much that one day in front of a huge crowd she slaps her tormentor hard across the face. Now, how the rules apply to the two kinds of actors ('character actors' and 'character-less stars') gets near comical from here. If the one slapped is a star, then transformation of hearts occur, both for the slapper and the slappee, with unwarranted sympathy assuming the form of love for the heroine and the star slapped back into coherence and good behavior, with his sudden admiration for the heroine's uprightness also turning into (and reciprocating) love. But the if one hit across is a 'character actor', things turn sour in an instant with the 'character actor' suddenly donning the mantle of the cruel villain hounding the lead pair for the rest of the movie. The problem with this setup is not so much as the fairness of the situation, for the star and the character actor pretty much did the same thing and one becomes a hero and the other the villain. The injustice is felt more during the award season. Say for the same movie above, by some stroke of divine luck (or hard lobbying) both the actors get selected for the award. The star gets the better billing of 'Best Actor', while the villain has to contend with 'Best Character Actor', which brings back to the original question, if the villain happens to have the best character in the movie, then what becomes of the other one - character-less, or slightly inferior actor? So stop calling them 'Character Actors' for they are the foundations, they are the pillars, they are the unseen brick and mortar, the hidden cement that binds the whole structure together. They are (also) the reason why the end result is marveled at.

Right from the inception of the industry, telugu filmdom has been blessed with a strong a reliable stable of character actors, none greater than the legendary S V Ranga Rao. Moving in and out of a wide variety of role with equal ease, essaying characters that cut across generations - grandfather, father, uncle, brother, on the affable side of affairs, down to the downright detestable, shady, arrogant and loathsome villains - SVR essentially set the benchmark against whom any actor worth his talent, past and present, are held up for examination. Saddled with a frame just a tad above what was considered as hero material, SVR turned this to his advantage affording himself the opportunities and characters that other stars dare not attempt. This made him the only actor to be taken in the same breath as the reigning stars of that era NTR and ANR, a feat that hasn't been replicated before or since. As a thug tugging at at the heart in 'బంగారు పాప', or a absent minded yet brilliant lawyer in 'తోడి కోడళ్ళు', as a disillusioned father in 'తాతా మనవడు', or the outright romantic in 'నర్తనశాల', as a dismissive and arrogant emeperor in 'పాండవ వనవాసం', to a large hearted patriarch in 'పండంటి కాపురం', and the innumerable yet memorable roles he portrayed in what are currently considered as the gold standards of telugu cinema, SVR upped the status of the 'character actor' on par with lead actors, both in terms of respect and revenue. Though Nagabhushanam played a bridging role bidding farewell to the era of the strong characters and ushering in the period, where the character actor is reduced to merely making the life of the leads miserable, his inimitable dialogue delivery, both comical and menacing, allowed him to straddle both the comedic and villainous role, carrying the legacy of SVR honorably forward. But it wasn't until the sun shined on the careers of this duo, who became an inseparable and indispensable part of the modern telugu cinema and who together truly imbibed the spirit of the SVR, that the glory of the character actors was regained and restored back to its original position - Rao Gopal Rao and Satyanarayana.

The interesting aspect is one lacked what the other had, but put together between the two they had it all. Gopal Rao, despite his deep baritone, fell short on the acting front, while Satyanarayana endowed with the full histrionic range was short changed (only when held up against his predecessor, SVR and compatriot, Gopal Rao) in the booming voice department. But their combination rewrote the rules for how a modern telugu villain ought to sound and act, all the while holding themselves back even when pitted against puny heroes, far inferior in stature and talent. In terms of redefining the art form for this new age of entertainment starvation, Raghavendra Rao (direction), Veturi (lyrics), Chakravarthi (music), Chiranjeevi and Vijayasanthi (lead roles), Rao Gopal Rao and Satyanarayana ('character roles') are cut above the rest, for each tailored their talent to suit the period and the requirement, never looking down upon or undermining the situation/scenario at hand. And so there were movies written, directed and acted that were an insult to the intelligence, in effect reversing the evolution of the telugu cinema from the golden age back to the silicon age, and yet there were these directors, musicians, lyricists, actors whose commitment to the content was beyong reproach, whose dedication, despite the silliness and inanity, remained dogged. To add to that list, in the glorious mould of SVR, continuing the great tradition of strong 'character acting', trudging tirelessly through the morass of mediocrity, here is the last telugu actor, who truly can be called an artist, worthy of the baton passed on by Gopal Rao and Satyanarayana - Kota Srinivasa Rao.

Cont'd