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When I heard about Crazy Mohan's health, I called my father, who separated from him. "I hear Crazy Mohan is critical. I thought of you, "I said.
" Oh? "He asked me, his voice was so low that I could not hear it."
"In-ma-ra-va-si na? ", citing an old drama by Crazy Mohan
" In-ma-ra-va-si … ", he repeated after me, cracking hard.
***
Brought up by a serious mother who ran a narrow boat, I grew up in a house where humor and lightness were a luxury.When growing up, everything was a lesson in moral science: When we looked at Suryavamsam (1998) we discussed how I might become a collector When we looked at Kadhalukku Mariyadhai (1997) we pointed out "love-ngara per-la panra thappu [mistakes made in the name of love]. "
Punctuated with this life, it was the few breaks with my father, who had a taste for the arts – meaning, he let himself be enjoyed from time to time. he liked it in such a singular way: he repeated in a low voice what he had heard, as he was reliving the present moment. could be the rhythmic laugh of a SPB song, or the Crazy Mohan pun that requires a second to record.
For him, "In-ma-ra-va-si" was not funny before he had quietly repeated it before. bursting into happy whims.
***
Literally and metaphorically, Crazy Mohan was for me a break from the daily chore of working hard and doing something about myself. Watching Crazy Mohan had no lesson in moral science, no note that I had to take, no representation of a grand future that I had to build, it represented what the kids today call "living in the world". ;present time".
Come and see all of Crazy Mohan's work through this lens – live in the present moment and make jokes about it. Categorizing it as a "situation comedy" (where the jokes flow from the situation) would undermine the genius with which Crazy Mohan interpreted these situations.
Panchathantiram (2002) [2002-1008] One of my two favorite Tamil films (yes, the one I hold above even by Michael Madana Kama Rajan ) , and my favorite film of Crazy Mohan, is an example.
Ram is holding a bra, which his wife Mythili suspects is proof of his affair. "Ayye, idhu Sardharji potta body. [This is a bra flung by the Sardarji] ", he says (" body "is a Tamil-ism commonly used for bra and" potta "could indicate both" thrown "and" worn ").
" Sardarji body poduvaara? [Does a sardarji wear a bra?] "she asks. "Ipdi potta body illa," he says, imitating the hook of a bra, before – "Ipdi potta body" – mimicking the throwing of an imaginary lingerie article.
His filmography is filled with lines as insane as these. one of them funnier than the last, each charming in itself. "Neengalum cook, cook of gramamum", for example in Michael Madhana Kama Rajan (1990) . Or "Do not put a word in my mouth" in Pammal K. Sammandham (2002) . Or even the "Undra gadhi, endra gadhi" loaded in Thenali (2000) .
***
Today, in much of the cultural milieu, insulting comedies stand up to the predominant form of humor – the "kalaaichufying" in the Tamil nation constitutes everything, from icebreaker to badual harbadment. Looking back, Crazy Mohan has largely avoided this tactic. Apart from some jokes about disability and benevolent badism, he did not particularly mock the disinherited.
But he chose not to go for it either, his jokes would probably not have been able to cause him any serious trouble with anybody ever. He avoided contemporary politics. And even by making fun of superstition, men of God, geomancy, numerology, etc., which dominated the imagination of the public in the 90s, Crazy Mohan has colored the lines. In the play Veettai Maatri Katti Paar for example, Maadhu's wife, Mythili, brings Aalapuzhai Achappan, a man of God, to perform certain rituals in the house for himself. Maadhu, visibly upset, said to his wife in a radical form: "Look, Mythili, faith in God is enough for us. Do not believe in these crooks, that's all I'm going to say. In this, Crazy Mohan turned out to be a rationalist, which held him so much for upper-clbad Brahmin families.
Without hitting up or down, in his own way, he chose to hit the side, finding humor in uncrowded places. One of my favorites is the scene of Kadhala Kadhala (1998) where a suspicious Singaaram (Vadivelu) asks Lingam (Kamal) why his house is called "Roon Jaham". Lingam corrects it: "It's not Roon Jaham; That's Noor Mahal! "Singaram persists," Even so, why would you give your house a Muslim name? "Kamal Hbadan, slightly disconcerted, understands:" Ennudaya manaivi Janaki per-la, Shah Jahan Taj Mahal, Katna Madhiri, nooru mahal kattanum-nu nenachen. Oru veedu thaan katnen, adhukke nooru mahal-nu peru vechutten, "before praying for triumph.
If you do not understand Tamil, I send you my deepest condolences. But essentially, the elegantly constructed replica implied the name of Noor Jahan and the Tamil word for 100 (nooru). As he delivers this line, Kamal Hbadan's face is metamorphosed from harbaded to inspired to swagger. "Wow," exclaimed Soundarya and Rambha, who saw this play on words take shape and give them a miraculous escape. You have often seen this gleam in the eyes of actors who interpret the lines of Crazy Mohan – especially in scenes where characters discuss bad situations using their clinical mind.
"Vaayulla pullai pozhachukkum [a child with the gift of gab will survive]" says the old aphorism of Thenali Raman. . Crazy Mohan and his characters have never proven that.
***
"Life is crazy, calm down," he says often. So, apparently, it was the subject of death for the Crahan Mohan that I learned to love. In more movies, death and his personification – the corpse – brought out the best of Crazy Mohan. Sathya, Janaki and Paapamma take the bus next to the corpse of an old man in Magalir Mattum (1994) . The orchestra leader approaches them and speaks, of course, to the man who is among them. "Ticket, ticket?" He asks. "A ticket vaangiyaachu Avaru eppovo," says Paapamma (in Tamil, buy a ticket is to kick the bucket). The morbid humor is ubiquitous in the following scenes and culminates in the inimitable "kattayila poravane" that Paapamma's husband yells against the corpse in a wooden cart.
The crazy Mohan has taught me to see the brighter side of things, the craziness of life. and the amusing inevitability of death. When my grandfather died a few years ago, I stood there as a stranger, watching meaningless rituals unfold like a film before my eyes. The women in the family, dressed in their traditional red saris, walked around the corpse, pouring buckets of water over their heads, at what I imagined to be a ritual ceremony. An aunt, who chose to wear a new colored cotton sari that day, had the great misfortune of the wet tissue that blew its color. As she walked around the corpse of my grandfather praying, she had streams of red flowing down her legs, inadvertently marking a trail around him. I burst out laughing, much to the dismay of the "serious family" who had raised me.
***
When I was done sharing Crazy Mohan jokes with my dad at the call yesterday, I murmured inanimations about it. time for lunch, as an excuse to hang up. "Enna pa?" He asked, as he had not heard me. "Ungalukku K. Kumar-nu per vekkardhukku badhila k-kaadhu nu vechirukkalaam," I said, hanging up without waiting to wait for him to savor this joke. Crazy Mohan may have left, but we all have a life to enjoy his work.
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