Food Karma

Thought I would write one after a long time. Just a blog on nothing.

Today, an acquaintance of mine taught me the word, “food coma”. I was on What’s App telling her that I am feeling sleepy after a rather generous helping of lunch. She send a voice message in a tone that half suggested that she is sorry for me sincerely, and in another half probably thinking that I just got out of Niah Cave after thirty years.

“Food coma? Yeah, food coma.” She repeated it one more time…third one possibly to hint about my age.

I laughed it off, “kids, these days!” Rolling my eyes upwards and checked what it meant online. Dammit, I need to update myself.

And voila! There is food coma, but the proper terminology for it, medically, is “Postprandial Somnolence". I had to push my heart back down my esophagus. What the hell was that!

To an untrained ears (in a household that lacked budget for cotton buds), that sounds terrifying. It’s like massive cavity injury somewhere between groin and ass with growing fungal infection. Or something like that. Goddamned Postprandial Somnolence!

But its just food coma. It’s that feeling of slight drowsy, slight tiredness, three spoonful of massive laziness and generous helping of sleepiness. Yeah, all that ‘ness’ coming and assaulting you like the SEAL team from Planet Sleeptopia.

In any case, why do we actually want to have  a massive lunch many a times? Especially in Malaysia? Long time ago, I wrote a piece here (2005) and here (2008) on on Banana leaf lunch and made a case that there is something in there that I suggest you read. You think what I’m gonna reproduce an excerpt politely like I do in my more serious writing? Balik kampong dah! This is my informal side, I even type topless here.

But in there, I suggested some chemical reason as to why we get sleepy. Decades have passed since then (actually only slightly more than a decade, but I am known to be dramatic especially to those who had faithfully deleted my numbers)…. And now most of us know why we get sleepy after lunch.

No, I don’t. Postprandial Somnolenc...it seems....

Now, this lady friend of mine told me about food coma and knowing well that my ass is lazier than a goddamned sloth on pot, I was to check what it meant. Also the term is very new for an old fart approaching fifth decade of existence (minus two and a half years in Rehab where I was kinda frozen in time). Kids these days know more about all this sort of things and most I can muster as an intellectual bid is that Cary Grant was supposed to do James Bond but couldn’t commit to multiple picture deals.

It says here…”Food comas typically result in a person feeling drowsy or fatigued. Some people also feel bloated, sluggish, or less alert, and may also be distinctly uninterested in being active…”

Yeah. Its also known as Postprandial Somnolence. 

So, there you go. Food coma. I kinda like it, grown fond of it, thinking of adopting it and calling it Postprandial Somnolence proper. So that I make sure I don’t have to deal with that stupid thing again. Adieu….

 

 

Ponniyin Selvan (2022)

In the 1991 film, Thalabathi, there is a song sequence in which director Mani Rathnam paid tribute towards Japanese master filmmaker of past, Akiro Kurosawa’s – Sundari Kannal Oru Seythi. The song features Samurai Rajini, the baddies in similar war costumes, several horses, mostly shot between legs, with close-ups of  horseback sword fight, shot MTV style to gently mask the lack of budget properly required if they were going full force for that sequence. It was a dream to have that scene filmed in full glory.

That dream is realised by Mani Rathnam through the spectacularly re-imagined work of literature giant Kalki Krishnamoorthy’s epic tome Ponniyin Selvan. It was such a huge book in the size of content, characters, intrigue and most importantly the rich setting during the Chola Dynasty that would have had producers and studios pawn their old negatives to get that budget – if they still have it, the negatives I mean.

Mani Rathnam tapped on all the available resources, multiple name casts, award winning technicians, and the best effects services offered and put together perhaps on one of the most important films to come out of Tamil film industry since, well, Karnan. No not that one, this small film I mentioned came out in 1964.

Taking cue from Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan, we are brought into the middle of a battle right from the beginning (in fact, the very beach attack scene, albeit with arrows and the rock trebuchets that looks more like imported from medieval England, but what do I know). Even the uniforms looks more like the mighty Romans of the Caesar era than the simpler ones I saw in a smaller flick on Rajaraja Cholan by Nadigar Thilagam Sivaji Ganesan (Rajaraja Cholan, 1973)

After the battle scene, the film follows Vandhiyadevan’s (Karthi) character as he takes us through his road trip on horseback through in different kingdom, after he had fought side by side with the story’s supposed protagonist Aditya Karikalan (Vikram, because he got top billing). There are politics, intrigue, romance, more fight sequences and most importantly the joie de vivre of being transported to a different time that makes this film an incredibly delightful experience – on big screen that is.

The story in a hand of an amateur would be convoluted, but Mani was wise to let us stay with Vandiyadevan for clarity’s sake as he takes us to meet many characters, manage obstacles with his witty quips, laser-mouthed observations, while flirting with girls ranging from queen to a boat rower, and here and there, unsheathing the sword for some good ole boys' beheading and dismembering fun. He is aided by rather unrecognisable Jeyaram, and both together are sort of classy, epic version of Sathyaraj and Goundamani and I mean it by most honourable way.

My complaints are two. One, using chaste Tamil is awesome, but oh how it could have been made smoother, cooler, and used in the most classical sense with cutting wit, and aesthetically exhilarating prose that made the earlier period films stand tall among classics. Mani’s penchant for brevity in dialogues is carried over, though thankfully not clipped like the ones he deploys in the films with contemporary setting. So, the beauty of Tamil language is not what you will find here.

Speaking of beauty, Aishwarya Rai is indeed central to the flick, and I applaud Mani for finally giving strength to a female character, but it was there in the book. Aishwarya, forever one of the worst actors to be celebrated in that country, continues to be frozen faced and gets to say lines that specifically denotes what she feels, lack of facial expression doesn’t matter I suppose. But I am not kidding about the iced (Ais?) face – you have to see it to believe it. Don’t be distracted by her beauty pageant disposition that she had successfully maintained over the decades, just look at how her face alone is lighted, and positioned for the camera. Stick her photos on an animatronics mannequin and you won’t be able to tell a difference. Even her famously famous Miss Freeze-face cohort Trisha gets to move some facial muscles.

Of the gals, the other Aishwarya, that is, Aishwarya Lekshmi stands out as Poongulazhi, the boat gal. Gosh, she was such a delight, as an independent woman, who could handle men, boat and the tame the sea just as she tamed any being. She's feminine and yet could handle the boat like a season seaman. She puts Vandiyadevan in his place, when he tries his world-famous charm on her. He's good, she's better. But being overfilled with characters, time with her had been mercifully small – I wanted to see more of her.

Vikram’s screen time too is considerably low, compared to Karthi, but he was ably cast, mostly with poses, and the growls and the roars that he had perfected over the year. There was hurt in his character, something broke his heart and ego, and this actor managed to deliver it without any goddamned prosthetics.

There are so many who’s who in every scene, which is why this is one of the most important accomplishments in the film. In a lesser flick, the inferior characters are filled with non-actors, or out of job character artistes and it shows. Here, you have the likes of Prabhu (Ganesan), his son, Vikram, and many others, unrecognisable beneath the facial hair filling up ably the roles and adding gravity to them – and the massive amount of beards all around adding weight of course. Casting really matters to a film of this size and Mani’s reputation was enough to rope in as many important stars possible (Kamal Haasan participated by giving opening voice over in his gravelly monotone presentation).

But most importantly, as with the audience that I was with (twice, I was invited again to watch the IMAX version – which was worth it), I am particularly taken to Karthi – there was a sense of Indiana Jones spirit in him. Fun, funny, and even there was an Indy-like fight sequence, that mixes both cleverness and clumsiness that reminded me of the famed fictional archaeologist. Karthi is certainly the Harrison Ford of our industry albeit with more smile, and is versatile, fun on screen, a scene-stealing powerhouse and always a delight to watch. You can say that considering the fact that two third of films lay heavily on his character’s shoulder and Karthi pulled it off affably.

On the score, AR Rahman suddenly remembered the Oscars he had won and went full steam ahead with this one. The songs didn’t register for me, and they shouldn’t because they are meant for elevating the films moments and they did for sure. Thankfully the background scores didn’t try to dominate, and he and his pal Siva Mani went back to the percussion roots to beat the crap out for some of the intriguing moments. But expect more Hans Zimmer than K.V. Mahadevan if you are looking for more Tamil-styled sound – though I would have wished differently from someone who composed the incredible Sangamam songs.

And so, Manirathnam has come back to deliver the promise, the promise that he is one of the best Indian film directors so full of promise once and have, now, he has delivered. Him being a film student is so evident here, as the abovementioned huge nods to Kurosawa, as well as the war films of John Ford, the epics of Cecil D. B. Mille, and Kubrick’s canvas (Spartacus) especially are spread throughout the films – and that delights the film buff in me too.

Really looking forward to part two. Film gods, may you keep Mani in peak condition to one-up this one – it is going to be an uphill task, but he can pull it off for sure. And please, please, I beseech the highly excitable film industry that gets infected by trends faster than COVID, keep Karthi around for a couple more decades at least. He is far more talented than his father and his national award-winning brother combined. He brings that something extra to the table. This dude is a treasure.