Vidheyan: The Adoor Gopalakrishnan movie continues to be a masterclass on filmmaking even after 29 years

In the meantime, Pattelar (Mammootty) is portrayed as a man in his thirties, dressed in a stylish jubba and dhoti. His demeanour exudes an air of great power, accompanied by a propensity for ostentation. Sitting with arrogance, he is prepared to issue commands to the world, asserting his desires. A single-shot gun rests near him. Pattelar abruptly rises and delivers a forceful kick that sends Thommi sprawling to the ground and proceeds to spit paan (betel leaf) on the latter’s face. He then proceeds to inquire about Thommi’s whereabouts, leading the conversation to Thommi’s wife. He asks, “Kanda sundari aanoda? Parayeda naayinte mone, sundarichi aanoda? (Is she a beautiful woman? Tell me, you son of a b**ch).” Thommi, feeling helpless, meekly responds with a “No,” prompting laughter from Pattelar and those around him. Pointing his gun at Thommi and firing a harmless round, Pattelar coldly orders Thommi to “Get lost”.

The opening scene of Vidheyan, based on Paul Zacharia’s novella Bhaskarapattelarum Ente Jeevithavum, demonstrates director Adoor Gopalakrishnan’s mastery of visual storytelling. While the dialogue remains true to Zacharia’s written words, the director’s attention to detail in setting the surroundings here is remarkable, making this one of the best movies by Adoor Gopalakrishnan, who turns 82 on July 3. The deliberate use of laterite bricks and the prominence of earthy brown and rusty-red hues effectively depict the ruggedness of the land and its people, indicating the filmmaker’s deep understanding of the source material and his meticulous scene design. 

The strategic placement of characters on the screen in Vidheyan’s opening scene deserves attention. While those serving as his yes-men are positioned on the left and right sides of the frame and Pattelar, the feudal lord consistently occupies the central position, even in close-ups and medium shots, symbolising his authoritative presence. Additionally, in scenes featuring both Pattelar and Thommi, Thommi is deliberately depicted as a blurred figure in the foreground, situated on the right side of the frame, while Pattelar takes centre stage, sharp and in focus, asserting his presence. Towards the end of the scene, the background comes into view, revealing the tea stall — aged and lacking cement — highlighting the impoverished living conditions of the village inhabitants. In contrast, Pattelar’s jeep gleams brightly, as if freshly washed. Pattelar dons a pristine white jubba and dhoti, while Thommi’s dhoti appears visibly soiled, having lost its original whiteness. Although those surrounding Pattelar do not wear shirts, in line with the customs and norms of the time, they are attired in comparatively better clothes, implying that they are constantly favoured and privileged by their master.

In the subsequent scene, we witness a desolate Thommi entering a river, immersing himself to cleanse the stains of the paan and the indignity from his body. The only sound accompanying this moment is the gentle flow of the river in the background. By intentionally omitting a background track, the filmmaker crafts an atmosphere of eerie silence, mirroring the profound emptiness that has pervaded Thommi’s life. 

Set in the early 1960s, Vidheyan narrates the tale of impoverished Malayali migrants who settled in the forests of Karnataka and an oppressive feudal lord who shamelessly exploits those belonging to the lowered castes in his vicinity. One of the central themes explored in the film is power dynamics. Pattelar represents the domineering feudal lord who disregards the well-being of those around him, while Thommi embodies subservience, eagerly awaiting his master’s next command. Despite Pattelar’s heinous act of raping his wife Omana (Sabitha Anand), Thommi finds himself trapped in a position where he has no choice but to serve his master. Initially, Thommi harbours visible anger towards Pattelar, though not expressed directly to his face. However, as the story progresses, Thommi gradually transforms into Pattelar’s trusted “Vidheyan” (servant), especially after Pattelar secures a job for him at the local toddy shop. 

The film adeptly delves into the power dynamics between the upper-caste feudal lord and the Christian immigrant “servants”. Even in situations that might provoke Thommi to defy or stand up against his master, his inherent inclination to demonstrate subservience triumphs over any other emotions he may feel. In a pivotal scene, Pattelar, clearly intoxicated, signals to Thommi with an empty glass, silently conveying his desire for more toddy. Once Thommi fills up the glass, Pattelar looks at him again. Without the need for verbal communication, Thommi comprehends his master’s unspoken demand and promptly proceeds to the nearby tea shop, acquiring some sweets for Pattelar to enjoy, thus reinforcing and solidifying Thommi’s submissive nature. This act further underscores Thommi’s unwavering commitment to his role as a subservient servant, despite his master not explicitly issuing any commands.

The director’s adept use of low-angle shots in certain scenes enhances the visual appeal of the film. By positioning the camera at a lower point on the vertical axis, the audience is given a sense of their own subordinate position in relation to Pattelar within the power dynamics depicted. An impactful low-angle shot captures Thommi slowly pounding Pattelar’s back as the latter is seated on the verandah.  Furthermore, an intriguing visual emerges when Pattelar’s head aligns with the horns of a mounted animal on the wall behind him during a conversation with a tenant farmer. This evocative imagery creates a metaphorical representation, suggesting that the horns appear to grow from the sides of Pattelar’s head, symbolising his beast-like and dominant nature as a feudal lord.

Adoor’s meticulous attention to detail is evident in the careful construction of each house portrayed in the film, whether it is Pattelar’s grand bungalow or Thommi’s humble hut. The setting of these houses serves as a reflection of their occupants’ lives. Pattelar’s house presents a stark and barren front, mirroring the desolation and emptiness that permeate the lives of those dwelling within its walls. In contrast, Thommi’s house is adorned with a small garden, featuring a few flowering plants. This touch of nature in front of Thommi’s dwelling not only adds visual beauty but also signifies a sense of life and vitality, contrasting with the starkness of Pattelar’s abode. 

Simultaneously, within Pattelar’s bungalow, the only individual who displays a semblance of compassion towards Thommi is Pattelar’s wife, Saroja (Tanvi Azmi). In a particular scene, Saroja is depicted offering food to Thommi while positioning herself at his eye level, signifying that she perceives him as more than just a mere servant. This detail underscores the depth of their connection. Consequently, when Pattelar tragically takes Saroja’s life, Thommi’s tearful reaction holds great impact, as it highlights the genuine affection and emotional bond he shared with her. 

Towards the end, when Pattelar finds himself in a life-or-death situation, pursued by Saroja’s enraged relatives, Thommi remains dutifully by his side, though Pattelar no longer holds any significant power. Thommi’s unwavering subservience is so profound that he is willing to risk his own life to accompany Pattelar. Even in Pattelar’s moments of vulnerability and helplessness, Thommi’s loyalty and servitude persist without faltering. 

Even in the end, following Pattelar’s killing, Thommi experiences a delayed realisation that he is no longer bound by any chains. Initially, his immediate response to Pattelar’s death is one of tears and a profound sense of aimlessness. However, once the truth sinks in, Thommi symbolically discards Pattelar’s gun into the river and breaks free, exclaiming with a triumphant cry, “Pattelar is dead!” It is at this pivotal moment that the viewers are greeted with background music, harmoniously blending with the jubilation and liberation that Thommi has finally attained.

The film’s allure lies not only in Mammootty’s towering presence and remarkable performance but also in the meticulous care given to each character, ensuring they are well-developed and granted ample screen time. The film’s aesthetics are enhanced through powerful imagery, meticulous attention to detail, grandiose use of visual language, and the absence of superfluous music. Adoor’s masterful choreography of every scene further elevates Vidheyan to the status of a timeless classic.

The exceptional work of Mankada Ravi Varma in cinematography, combined with the meticulous art direction by Sivan, the immersive sound design by Devadas and Krishnanunni, the seamless editing by M Mani, and the skilful make-up by Edava Nazar, collectively elevate the film to the status of an enduring classic. 

Mammootty’s outstanding portrayal in Vidheyan earned him his second National Film Award for Best Actor, while the film itself was honoured with the National Film Award for Best Feature Film in the Malayalam language.