We’re ready for Kabali. The film must be nearing completion — for, we’ve been informed that Rajinikanth has already moved on to Shankar’s 2.0 — and the quintessential Thalaivar fan’s state of readiness is already on display.
It’s everywhere around you, but only if you look carefully. Stand outside Sathyam Cinemas and look up, as if you’re trying to sight a constellation in the sky. You can see just one star — the Superstar, as we all call him.
Not far from there, in Mylapore, a café has come up with a chocolate statue of Rajinikanth, in keen anticipation of the star’s next film. Elsewhere, in other parts of the State and country, there has been a pre-booking for 1,000 packets of milk for a release day that is yet to be officially announced. I’m kidding about the milk packets, but going by the fan frenzy that one witnesses during the FDFS (first day first show) celebrations of the actor’s films, I might not be too way off the mark.
I was at a theatre at Ambattur for the first show of the actor’s Kochadaiiyaan a couple of years ago (and by first show, I’m referring to the 4 a.m. show), and there was no tea available at any of the nearby shops — all the milk to be supplied to the shops had been diverted to the theatre!
A recent injunction suit against the actor and his fans for this ‘milk celebration’ has brought to limelight, yet again, the way we celebrate our actors. The pettiness of this particular case notwithstanding, it is an apt reflection of how, despite the times we live in and the wave of ‘experimental cinema’, the mindset of the average Tamil filmgoer has remained largely unchanged.
The adulation is mostly OTT. Crackers, huge posters, milk showered on mammoth cutouts… those are the essentials of any FDFS show of a Rajini film. It doesn’t matter where you are watching it; be it at Sathyam or Kasi, the same scenes unfold.
During one such show, I quizzed a fan who proudly said that he had spent about Rs. 25, 000 on a huge glossy poster/cut-out of the actor in his neighbourhood. “Thalaivarukku idhu kuda panlena eppudi (For Rajinikanth, this is the least I can do).” And there he was, beaming with joy, when he could have bought about almost 210 tickets and given it to all his friends, who would have remembered him for life.
Fan associations have changed course over the years. Earlier, they were considered vote banks — actors used them for political mileage. That was before YouTube and Google seeped into our lives. While that trend remained for stars with political ambitions (like Vijayakanth), others cleverly tinkered with the role of the associations; Kamal Haasan turned his into a Narpani Iyakkam and Ajith disbanded all his clubs, saying that he’d never use them for personal gain.
The modern Tamil cinema fan comes across as an informed one. I’m not referring to just the one who lives in Alwarpet or Anna Nagar and tweets his reactions to a film, but also the fan living in Tiruchi and Thanjavur.
He talks about Korean films. He refers to ‘screenplay’ and points out how it could’ve been better in a certain film. Take a stroll outside any theatre in Tamil Nadu and you’ll hear random comments like a sarcastic ‘This should be given an Oscar’ for a bad film, and a sincere ‘This should do well’ for a good film.
He’s the same fan who rejected two recent films of the Superstar because they just weren’t up to the mark. Yes, even Rajinikanth wasn’t spared. The fan should know that celebrating his onscreen idol is beyond milk packets.
When Kabali comes along — and we hope it does come really soon — there are a hundred ways to celebrate it. Pouring milk on giant cut-outs is certainly not one of them.