Last week, in Cannes, Kani Kusruti and Divya Prabha, two Keralite actresses, along with their co-stars, danced their way to win the Grand Prix for their movie All We Imagine as Light. Keralites are euphoric.
However, many have forgotten that 25 years ago, a Keralite director had won the Caméra d'Or, the award for the best directorial debut, with a Keralite Dalit woman playing the lead role.
Lakshmi Raman played the lead role in debut director Murali Nair’s Marana Simhasanam. She also starred in Murali’s second film, which was also screened at Cannes in 2001. Born into a working-class Pariah (Dalit) family in central Kerala, Lakshmi worked as a labourer at the Idukki Dam construction.
She fell in love with Deepchand Singh, a skilled labourer from Punjab who came to work on the dam, married him, and migrated to Ludhiana. However, after Singh deserted her, she returned to Kerala, was discovered by Murali, acted in a few movies, became a vendor in local markets, and ultimately passed away in 2016.
Unfortunately, Lakshmi had faded into obscurity long before her death, much like PK Rosy, the first Keralite actress and a Dalit Christian, who had to flee the state to play the role of an upper caste woman character in the first Malayalam feature movie Vigathakumaran (The Lost Child), directed by JC Daniel, in 1930 due to intense societal backlash and threats to her life.
Talking to The Quint from London in an exclusive interview, Murali detailed how he found Lakshmi for his movie. Murali was looking for an actress who could live the role, not just act, for many reasons. “In many auditions I conducted, I found the gap between acting and living the role, very annoying, as I was struggling to find the right actress. It was a bit of a hassle in those days,” Murali said.
Eventually, Murali and his crew delved into the theatre scene in Ernakulam.
“In the middle of this search, Lakshmi dropped in out of nowhere. She had seen an advertisement that I put in Mathrubhoomi (a Malayalam newspaper) and came looking for me. I immediately booked her for an audition. There was something that sparked in her, and I knew she would be apt for the role. Some of my crew were against taking a non-actor, but what was important to me was finding someone who matched my imagination. Who cares about Stanislavsky or Jodorowsky?"Murali Nair to The Quint
When asked why he picked a Dalit working-class woman for his movie, Murali said the background was not important to him. “If I had chosen someone from, say, a rich background, I would not be doing justice to the audience. Everything would stand out as fake, and the most affected would be the emotions. When there is a possibility to be true to your art, why not?” Murali replied.
According to Kannan Meloth, a Keralite historian and Lakshmi’s biographer, Lakshmi was ready to take up a new challenge. “After being deserted by Singh, she returned to Kerala and married a Keralite, who also passed away. It was after his death that she ventured into acting. She heard about the advertisement and dared to meet Murali, who eventually selected her,” Meloth said.
While asked to describe his professional relationship with Lakshmi on set, Murali said he was able to establish a strong connection with her in a very short period of time.
“Her life was a clean slate at the time I met her. She was in a very high state of mind that we would all struggle to reach. She kept on creating something or other using her skills all the time. I was able to relate to her and find beauty in her life. Hence, I was convinced she could play any role. A tree is as strong and as good as its roots, and she had it.”Murali Nair to The Quint
Murali’s Marana Simhasanam is the story about Krishnan and Lakshmi, who come from a family of seasonal labourers, living in a small island community in Kerala. Driven by desperation because Krishnan is out of work, he steals a bunch of coconuts from his landlord. He is caught, imprisoned, and suddenly finds himself accused of a murder that happened on the island several years ago. The people are shocked. It is election time, and the politicians take up their cause to win votes.
Meanwhile, a new technology for killing people has been introduced in the country: The Electric Chair. Developed with a loan from the World Bank and technological help from America, the chair is seen as the epitome of a glorious death. The islanders and politicians join hands to demand that Krishnan should be the first in the country to die by electric chair.
Lakshmi also acted in Murali’s second movie, Pattiyude Divasam (Dog’s Day). It is the story of a local ruler who bows down to pressure from democratic forces and is forced to hand over a part of his province to a democratically elected leader. He also presents his pet dog to a poor peasant and his wife (Lakshmi).
For the poor peasant and his wife, the dog is not a mere dog but a symbol of royalty, which has always inspired feelings of respect, admiration, and blind worship. They bathe the dog in a very ceremonious manner and take great care of it. They even desist from tying it up somewhere. But when the dog bites and kills a duck and then a boy, it leads to problems. The democratic leader orders the arrest of the dog, followed by the arrest of the poor peasant. Then follow protests, talks, and negotiations leading to more interesting developments.
When asked whether Lakshmi was ignored or not celebrated, Murali agreed.
“The general public appreciated her much better, though. However, since she didn’t follow any known path or was not connected with anyone in the industry, it was difficult for the industry to include her too,” Murali said, adding that there are many gems like her (Lakshmi) where she comes from. One day, we will learn to appreciate it all better.
(Rejimon Kuttappan is an independent journalist, labour migration specialist and author of Undocumented [Penguin 2021]. This is an opinion piece and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)