This is meant as a blog to my son and my brother who has not seen my father. others may also find it mildly amusing to know about the movies of the 70s.
My father had a business (a clinical Lab) at the Palace road Madurai and everyday he visited his office. Some blessed days he would take me along. We could take the 11 a (probably 11 b or a) bus and get down at mission hospital stop or near the st Mary school- probably Therkuvasal stop-can’t remember the exact name of the stop. The parallel road was the Palace road in which he had his clinical laboratory -called palace clinical Lab. To go to the street you either took a dark small stone paved lane which can fit two people at a time. The narrow lane even had a door which would open into it and da!da! was a small shop which sold cloths. I used to wonder- there is hardly anyone passing through this small lane and they have a shop? Why? The other way to cross to the palace road was through the Pandian supermarket. You get into the shop, keep on walking and exited through the back door and you reach Palace road. We rarely did it, as my father probably thought using a shop as a thorough fare was not fair without buying anything. But those times when we went through the supermarket was special for me, the size of the building the novelty was existing.
The lab had a really large waiting room, where I could sit and amuse myself. Some days he could ask me do you want a rose milk if we had gone before sundown. He could take me to this typical 70s hotel. Fluorescent lights, hard marble tables in a large hall. In the end had a long table on which all the buckets of sambhar and chutneys could rest. It was called Hotel Sarawathi. Don’t know if it still stands there. They all knew my father and invariably he ordered a coffee for himelf (sort of addicted to many things including coffee) and a rose milk for me. For a kid of 7 or 8 a sweet, cold milk which smelled like rose was heavenly. It was a delight. Even after my father's demise when my mother took me to the lab- sometimes she could give me some change and ask me do you want to have a rose milk, I could run alone sit there drink and feel so happy.
Some days he would ask “do you want to go to a movie” and I would always say “yes”. The great thing about Madurai is you would eat and see a movie any time of the day. In the 70s the Regal theatre was the Sathyam cinemas of Madurai. The theatre still stands. The theatre originally was a hall for a library- and it was leased out or something like that to play movies. The theatre unlike other theatres in town had odd show timings. If I am remembering correctly they only had show in the evening. They had a show starting at 8. PM, I think. When I asked my father about it, he said something about the terms of the lease which they specified they could use the auditorium only in the evening. Did not understand then and did not feel like asking him-what the hell is a lease.
Even in the 70s it looked old fashion building with giant arches and steep stairs. The ticket counter at the base of the stairs painted green with a wicked door made out of wood. As we were never on time or no one cared much for English movies in the 70s, unlike many theatre in Madurai at that time – Regal theatre rarely had a line at the ticket counter. My father could stick money in and seeing him the guy in the counter will get excited and invariable call someone. “Has the movie started” was how all our entrance to the movie hall started. The usher will go “just now annae (brother in Madurai Tamil)” and lead us to the top of the balcony through the narrow steep steps. Most of the time the seats were empty and the usher will shine his torch on some empty seats and ask us to sit. Sometimes when the theatre was nearly full he will go to top of the balcony were you could see the seats were tied with a thick jute rope, so as no one you sit on it. He would untie them and asks us to sit. That was the VIP reservation, the low tech version of it I presume. If my memory serves me correctly, I think they gave us the VIP treatment because my father did not ask for the change or the theatre hardly had people in the balcony and my father was a regular.
As you would have imagined they did not have any “Adults only” policy, if they had one I am pretty sure they could have never allowed me to see “frenzy”. Frenzy was a Hitchcock movie (which I
later googled to find ) about a serial killer and it made such an impression on me I would still remember the potato sack scene. In it the killer- can’t remember what the leading sequence dumps a woman’s body in a sack of potato and the sacks are transported in a truck. This killer remembers after sometime the girl he had murdered has clutched something of significance -I can’t remember- in her hands. He goes in search of it, climbs in the trunk opens the different sacks, and finds her dead body. When he tries to pry open her hands, rigor mortis has set and it is difficult to open. He uses his pocket knife to extend each finger and they break. Well I did not sleep on that day. I also lost some sleep dreaming of the guy’s door with a red carpet?
“SSSsnake” is another movie I say with my father which is etched in my memory. Snake is a weird
movie, about a scientist who lives amongst many snakes and other creepy crawlies. He experiments with snakes and reptiles and wants to convert a humans into a snake. So, he conducts his human experiment on his assistant, who is not aware about it. The hero is injected a venom by the mad scientist under the guise that those injections are for protection against snake bites. There some gory scenes- well 70s standard- in which the hero skills peels of slowly and transforms into a snake. I think at the end of the movie he becomes a snake and in the end the scientist is killed by the hero- who is now a snake. A truly wonderful movie I thought when I came out. Movies like sssnake and frenzy made my friends envious of me. None of my friend’s father would take them to adult themed English movies in Madurai.
I ended up growing on a diet of English movies whose plot or names I did not understand or can’t remember. My father due to some reason took me rarely to Tamil movies leading me to under appreciate them. My mother a girl from a small village wanted to watch Tamil movies and I always
resisting going to them. I remember clearly as though it was yesterday evening we were travelling in a rickshaw, on the road in front of the Gandhi museum. My parents were sitting in the seat with the red cushion and me sitting opposite in the small wooden structure in a rickshaw and we were arguing. My mother wanted to see the latest super hit movie the whole town was taking, I whining and father trying to pacifying us. I am pretty sure he also wanted to see “Mullum Malarum”. My memory is, after some time I relented but I am sure we did not go to see Mullum Malarum or did we go- my memory is hazy. But one thing was sure I had seen Mullum Malarum and it must be one of the best movies ever to be made (not just in Tamil).
In those days “cut outs” for movies was a big thing. They had huge cut outs near the passum pon statue round -about. Even though I could not remember most of them I remember the huge banner they had for “pasi”- the 1979 classic. I was so fascinated with the poster and I suppose wanted to see it. My father a huge fan of movies which had realistic themes had seen it with my mother. They thought the movie had theme which I would not understand, did not take me with them. When I saw that later, I felt they had made a right choice, the movie was just realistic about poverty eight-year-old me could have been confused.
My father hated Balachander movies I don’t know why. Later in life when I came home from a movie one day and said to my mother “I hate this Balachander, he makes horrible movies”, I could see happiness in my mother’s face. She probably thought even though I did not get any trait- physical or mental from him we both hated the same movies.
One of the other theaters is the now defunct Jayaraj Theatre. It was a huge theatre to today’s standard and had ample parking, which today’s Madurai shop owners will die for. The balcony in those days had huge doors and windows which they will open it up so that it was breezy- the natural air condition. We used to watch Tamil movies in it-three of us- mostly either the evening show or the night show. You would walk back home to sigrayar colony when the show finished after 12 o clock- when it was difficult to get a ride. I might have drowsed of whilst watching the movies there as I can’t remember most of what I saw there. But I remember being bored sitting there for the movie to start. I invariably would ask “when will the movie start” and my father would point to his Rolex with a stone encrusted at the 9 and say “well when the small hand comes to this”. I was so fascinated with his watch I would keep on watching it. Again I am unable to remember most of the movie except for the hugely funny Jaganmogini. It had strange actors- later found out it was a Telegu movies dubbed into Tamil. It also had the 70s and 80s item girl Jeyamalini in the titular role. It was a fun movie I remember being elated after coming out of the movie. Like many us I thought my father knew everything about everything. In the movie Jaganmogini- you see skeletons dancing, ghosts painted white-head to toe using their legs as firewood to cook. On the way back home fascinated by these I ask “how did the skeletons dance” and he goes “well you need to attach them to thin white thread and pull them as puppets”. Ok that makes sense, then “how where the entire body of the ghost white and able to lit their legs on fire” I countered to make my point that those were real ghost. He nonchalantly says “that is easy they just put the actors in plaster of paris”. As a technician at the X-ray department of Madurai GH it made sense to him that plaster of paris is the best medium for ghost make-up. Jayaraj theatre has another important significance, when my brother was born the first movie we took him was to this old black and white shivaji movie called Thookku Thookki.
I am sure my father was a cinema nut, who also saw Hindi movies but I would not remember any of them. He was taken to Sholay, where Amjad khan plays as a lovable bandit and could always talk about the character to me. Even though he did not directly talk about Zeenat Aman I had the feeling he was smitten by her. I had these Marwari girls who rode with me to school in the rickshaw always talking about Hindi movies and songs among themselves, which I found irritating. When sathyam shivam sundaram was released they could sing and talk about it throughout our 15 minute ride to school. I suppose it had a deep impact and inability to understand the language made a lifelong aversion to movies made in Bollywood.
One of the scariest experience about movies is about a movie I did not watch. One day I was asleep and woke up in the middle of the night and found out both my parents are not there. My nanny cum our house maid was sleeping besides me. I call out for my mother and find them missing, I started crying. Arumugam-our maid with an unusual name for a girl- started panicking. After some time, she told me they have gone to a movie- a movie called “rusi kanda punnai”. They thought well, it is a night show and I could probably hate it. I don’t remember how I fell asleep, did my parents came and put me to sleep- not sure.
love
Hariohm
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