Rest in Peace, Captain!

"Captain" Vijayakanth (1952–2023)

 

“Captain” Vijayakanth’s passing did not come as a surprise. Not to many, not especially to his fans. The news that he had already passed away was circulating long enough to cry “wolf” that when it actually happenedWhatsApp and other social media-consuming folks had to do something they usually don’t: seek the veracity of the news.

If that is sad, it was sadder still that Vijayakanth had to endure a long health radual decline, fading into the occasional rumour headlines with regards to his health and his being. If it is any consolation, some of his hardest detractors, those who did not see him as having made any good contribution to the film industry, including yours truly, have softened up and started searching for some gold dust, at least in the stream of films he had made over the four decades of career.

Well, he did have a place in the industry, that’s for sure. As himself, Captain, a name he retained after playing the title character in Captain Prabakharan (1991),

In the realms of the Tamil film industry, usually the “TOP TWO” reign as kings of cinema, beginning with P.U. Chinnapa and Thiyagaraja Bagavathar, quickly followed by MGR and Shivaji, and as the bell bottoms showed up, the two had to make way for Rajini and Kamal. Kamal’s disco was MADE for bell bottoms; as dis Rajini"s to help balance that haphazard ball-bearing cracking tun of his. But there ought to be a third force.

This third figure usually lurks, especially during matinee shows, in households with a large family, often entertaining those who don’t care one way or another about the TOP TWO. I tried to search and can’t ascertain who it was during the PUC and Bagahavthar eras. The ChatGPT too threw up its AI hands, saying (I cut and pasted this), “I assume you are asking about the third most popular actor in Tamil cinema after Thyagaraja Bhagavathar and P. U. Chinnappa. Unfortunately, I could not find any reliable information on who that might be.”

Shit.

But the closest has to be Ranjan, the daredevil, the Errol Flynn wannabe who would have dispatched Baghavatar’s mantle if not for someone else who actually looked like Errol Flynn, downright to the dimple on the chin—MGR. And as Sivaji Ganesan came along just as MGR was rising, the industry knew who the next two were. The fans were not bothered about Bhagavathar's throne; he was in the slammer anyway. During this time, Jai Shankar provided the third option for thrill, danger, and a bit of family action. He basically took over from Gemini Ganesan, who always looked like he’s playing the second fiddle, even if he is a goddamned hero of the flick.

Like Jai Shankar, Vijayakanth was famous for working with and encouraging upcoming directors, introducing them, or giving them some sort of discount, and putting in additional efforts. It can sometimes be quite telling because he hardly seemed to be pushing himself onscreen—just doing some recycled acting and mouthing punch dialogues. Like Rajinikanth, who pursued spiritualism and spent his energy there enough to come off looking like a husk in some of the films he did post-90s, Vijayakanth’s political pursuit deprived the artist in him of more ambitious roles. The tongue-roll-bite antic became an easy mimicry tool for the aspiring impressionists.

So, during the reign of Rajini and Kamal, he was the number three for quite a long time. Some would have their turn, like Mohan, Prabhu, Karthik, and Sathyaraj. But Vijayakanth remained on his middle-level throne. As Tamil film fans are obsessed with their heroes and also need to be saviours off-screen, Vijayakanth had to be content with a double reputation, depending on who you wanna listen to. On the bright side, you have the “good heart" and “charitable” side brands, with many comparing him to MGR. Then, there’s the darker side: alcohol and “easy access to certain pleasures in the industry." side that we don't want to discuss now. But most visible seemed to be the imbibing, which has been denied by his wife, of course. She’s now the general secretary of the party he founded, DMDK. I wonder why. I mean, how?

I personally liked Captain in some earlier films, where he was very effective. His early roles include one in Visu’s Dowry Kalyanam (1983), a film I enjoyed very much as it worked like a thriller (race against time to get resources for girl’s wedding), and Nane Raja Nane Mandhiri (1985), where he excelled in a comic turn as a doofus who has high esteem for himself, pairing with the vivacious Radhika.

He did not push himself in the acting department like Kamal Haasan; he didn’t have an almost mythical presence like Rajini onscreen, but he managed to capture millions of hearts—the early box office proves that. Even in the latter stage, he continued to enthrall his fans, even earning grudging respect from non-fans. Speaking of which, I suggest you guys get hold of Chatriyan (1991), a film directed by K. Shubash, who had just come out of Mani Rathnam’s shadow (perhaps literally) and tried to construct pseudo-Mani lights and shadow pretentious drama but actually ended up making a thrilling cop flick.

And so, rest in peace, Captain. We will remember you, alright. You made your mark. They all may vie to be the next Kamal or Superstar, but your gig is unique. I don’t think that, as far as the Tamil film industry is concerned, there will ever be another Captain.