Lights, Camera, Kathipara: Chennai's vanishing role in Tamil cinema

The Hindu

6 days ago

InSuper Deluxe, Thiagarajan Kumaraja walks us through narrow lanes of a city, with dry walls guarding frames tinged with saturated hues. As it is, there's nothing flashy that indicates it's Chennai (the film was set and shot in the city), but the filmmaker held a fascinatingly hyperreal lens on Chennai, showing an urban landscape you are most familiar with, but in a world only imagined. Cities have distinct energies, a sense of controlled chaos that only cinema comes close to simulating. How Chennai has evolved on celluloid is a storied exploration with some compelling patterns.
In the 1970s, Chennai was regularly featured in anti-urban narratives that portrayed cities as pockets of debauchery, a foreign land that preys upon the ignorant newcomer. Before K Balachander critiqued the regressive norms of rural India, he made Pattina Pravesam in 1977, in which a family from the village endured extreme hardships in Chennai, forcing them to return. Though setting a serial killer story like Sigappu Rojakkal in the city points to a similar mindset from Bharathiraaja, his Nizhalgal spoke about youths moving to Chennai to fulfil their lofty dreams. Kamal Haasan's Mahanadhi (1994) also hinted that perhaps the family wouldn't have faced such unspeakable miseries had they stayed back in their village. Even comedian Vivekh, who has sung praises of the city, showed this perspective in 2002's Run, where his character gets creatively swindled of all his belongings upon landing in Chennai.
The early 2000s were an interesting period in how films continued balancing these perceptions with fresher takes. Where Alaipayuthey, Enakku 20 Unakku 18, Priyamaana Thozhi, Minnale, and 7G Rainbow Colony embraced the modern urban life, Chennai became the capital of crime in films like Thirupaachi and Dhool. Similar was the case with Saran's Amarkalam and Gemini, set in North Madras, but we will come to that in a bit. The 2000s were also when more non-native residents of Chennai started to reap the benefits of the IT boom, and films began reflecting this. Autograph wasn't set in Chennai, but it spoke of a man who found prosperity in the city, looking back at his roots. Ram's Kattradhu Thamizh is arguably the loudest critique of gentrification, Western lifestyle, and the anglicisation from Silicon Valley.
Kattradhu Thamizh is also a rare exception at this point, as one could notice that while Chennai factors in the backdrop of the above films, it seldom becomes a character by itself. In Ram's film, Chennai turned the protagonist into a sociopath. The city was intrinsic in how Venkat Prabhu captured the frenzy of street cricket, the carefree lives of youngsters, and how they dealt with new-age problems in Chennai 600028. That film, along with 7G Rainbow Colony — and later, Madras, Idharkuthane Aasaipattai Balakumara, Kodiyil Oruvan and Maaveeran — were also films that depicted lives within housing boards and colonies. Going back to the 2000s, films weren't just painting Chennai as a city of hope; in Angadi Theru, Vasanthabalan, a staunch critic of urban life, made a persuasive case by showing the heart-wrenching ordeals that happen behind the curtains of an activity most Chennaiites must relate to — shopping in T Nagar.
The rise of the Vetri Maarans and Pa Ranjiths:
Angadi Theru also pointed towards the rise of an almost neo-realistic, hyperlocal approach to filmmaking in the 2010s — ushered by the likes of Thiagarajan Kumararaja, Vetri Maaran and Pa Ranjith — where the city isn't just a concrete shelter for the protagonists, but a thriving socio-political organism that houses millions. You cannot take Chennai out of Aaranya Kaandam, Madras, Metro, Vada Chennai, or Maanagaram. Most of these films, especially those of Vetri Maaran, indeed fell in line with themes that stereotyped North Madras as a land of crime — a stigma many residents know to have real-life effects.
But a silver lining did emerge. These stories weren't interested in single-mindedly exposing the darkness of the underworld; they had characters, black, grey, and white, somehow interacting with the crime lords and local politicians due to circumstances or socio-economic factors. This is why you wouldn't mind climbing a water tank with Anbu from Vada Chennairather than hanging out with Kokki Kumar in Pudhupettai. Further, the likes of Oram Po, Kaakka Muttai, Sarpatta Parambarai, and Iruddhi Suttru managed to break the stereotype surrounding Chennai north of the Cooum — an ever-fascinating region rich in history, culture and art.
But before we get to the current state of affairs, there's another angle to look at Chennai's representation in films — in how the city was best shown in songs rather than scenes.
A musical heritage walk:
The Marina breeze not only carries the scent of fish fries, filter coffee, Cooum, sambar vadai and the sound of an autorickshaw kick-starting. Chennai is a never-ending open concert enlivened by the likes of TM Soundarrajan, MS Viswanathan, Ilaiyaraaja, AR Rahman, Yuvan Shankar Raja, Anirudh Ravichander and Sean Roldan, who rule the radios of bustling tea shops and the quiet concerts that happen within earphones in the metro train. So it's only befitting that we find the most memorable depiction of the city in the visuals of songs.
Somehow, 'Madrasai Suthi Paaka Poren' from 1994's May Madham comes to mind instantly, but it's quite something to revisit the old Madras in older songs. It seems song sequences were a great opportunity for the characters and the audiences to get some air and respite from the studio sets, and what better place to do that than Marina Beach? It feels surreal to watch 'Nenjirukkum Engalukku' from Nenjirukkum Varai, in which Sivaji Ganesan, R Muthuraman and V Gopalakrishnan walk and dance on a Kamarajar Promenade we can no longer recognise. If you thought hitting the beach to shake away the blues is a modern trend, watch Gemini Ganesan walk and sing 'Manidhan Enbavan Mirugamagalam' in Sumaithangi. Or when he takes his squad to the beach in a car in 'Naalai Naam' from Punnagai. Songs like 'Enna Paarvai' from Kadhalikka Neramillai and 'Nee Ketal Naan Maatenendru' from Ilamai Oonjal Aadukirathu turned the gardens of Marina into Eden.
When it comes to showing other parts of Chennai, 'Madras Nalla Madras' from Anubavi Raja Anubavi is often cited as an example. But listen to the lyrics and you will realise it is anything but a tribute. Interestingly, the song that features the maximum number of heritage sites, as pointed out by heritage activist Sriram V, is 'Azhagiya Mithilai Nagariniley' from the movie Annai.
The hassles of shooting in real locations:
Over the years, however, fewer and fewer songs were shot in live locations in Chennai. Managing the crowd of eager onlookers rendered shooting films featuring popular stars in real locations impossible, which is why you might find many songs, like 'Nenjam Undu Nermai Undu' and 'En Kanmani En Kadhali', have the actors perform in front of a screen. If not for this, you had to take Mr. MGR to some other desolate beach for a hassle-free experience, like in 'Kadal Oram Vangiya Kaatru' from Rickshawkaaran.
The '90s and early 2000s too had films like Kadhal Kottai and Kadhal Desam that were shot in popular locations in Chennai, but in the mid-2000s, the Tamil Nadu government's restrictions in shooting films in public locations prompted filmmakers to shoot in studios or outside Chennai or move to suburban locations where getting permissions was easier. Still, even then, there were great exceptions to this, like 'O Ringa Ringa' from 7 Aum Arivu, a 2011 Suriya-starrer that was somehow even shot in the congested Ranganathan Street, T Nagar. Fascinatingly, despite these restrictions, the 2010s saw many small and mid-budget films — such as Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum, Chennaiyil Oru Naal, Goli Soda, Vadacurry, Vathikuchi, Meyaadha Maan, 8 Thottakkal, Irumbu Thirai, Sillu Karuppatti, Maanagaram and others — that were shot in real locations and had intriguing takes on the city, perhaps as a result of a certain drive towards realism among the younger crop of filmmakers who made their way to the fore from making short films or small features that couldn't afford a studio.
Chennai has featured in more than a dozen Tamil films since 2023, but never as a character by itself. Films still establish the city with a shot of the Kathipara flyover or the Central station, but the city never becomes central to storytelling. Prashanth, Shaam, Attakathi Dinesh and Shakthi Vasudevan no longer climb onto MTC buses; only in Blue Star, a film set in Arakkonam, not Chennai, romance blooms in a local train. The autorickshaw drivers and passengers are now involved in discussions too different from what Rajinikanth sang about in 1995. The Central railway station we see in films no longer lets a woman find her mystery lover wearing a rose-knit sweater. Interestingly, only Bharathiraaja appears as an exception here, as he tells the story of a married man falling in love with a woman he meets on the Metro train in Modern Love: Chennai.
The current crop of Tamil filmmakers has largely refrained from romanticising Chennai, but even sobering explorations of a lifestyle, community, or neighbourhoods are few and far between. Except for films like Ram's Taramani or Chennai 600028 (must one add Demonte Colony?), even films that carry a specific neighbourhood as the title — Kodambakkam, Nungambakkam, Kizhakku Kadarkarai Salai, and so on — do not tell a memorable story rooted in their milieu.
And yet, you would still find youngsters romanticising the city on social media, and aspiring filmmakers in their short films. Even when listening to Ilaiyaraaja from an MTC bus hurling through rainwater is considered 'overrated,' we do it, for there is no common grammar to romanticising such momentary joys. So while this may not be the season for Chennai, on screen and in IPL, this city was never known for invincibility. This is, after all, the kingdom of Rajinikanth, an actor who became a superstar by turning the rising-from-the-ashes arc into his signature style in commercial cinema.