For many Indians, the extreme celebrations during the release of a Rajnikanth film are a shocking. What makes fans go crazy dancing on the streets, building and praying to massive cutouts, shelling out huge sums of money for just a ticket to the first-day-first show, well beyond what they could afford? Dutch director Rinku Kalsy’s film
For the Love of a Man shows that there are explanations for why fans do what they do.
“There is an important history of fan culture that has been systematically cultivated in the state,” says Kalsy. “Especially since the 1950s, when the Dravidian movement built up its support over the idea of atheism in Tamil Nadu, it used the film star to fill the gap left by the missing religious icon. The film star became like a God, and the fan clubs became like the first line of devotees. The way people treat the image of a star, with milk bathing or prayer, derives directly from our devotional culture.”
The film follows the lives of South superstar Rajnikanth’s fans. Rajnikanth’s films are invariably sold out for weeks when they release, in large part because fans queue up for weeks in advance of the film release. Even releases in the San Francisco Bay Area, including Sivaji and Enthiran, have been known to be completely sold out for weeks, with fans arranging major celebrations ranging from having the film reels transported in luxury limousines and prayed to upon arrival at the theatre, to aartis inside the theatre when Rajnikanth first appears. Releases in Fremont, Calif., have been known to be so overbooked that theatres sell makeshift seating in front of the first row to fans who will accept any seating whatsoever to get into the halls.
(Above): Fans at a celebration of Rajnikanth’s birthday in Sholingur, Tamil Nadu.
The rituals around the superstar’s films are indeed legendary. The documentary features footage of a group of fans who went up 1300 rock steps of the Narasimha temple in Sholingur on their bare knees, arriving bleeding to pray for the 2011 film Enthiran’s success. Another fan discusses commissioning a book with 60 poems and 60 hand-drawn paintings for the star’s 60th birthday. Images of 60 feet cutouts with gallons of milk being poured over in ritual prayer are so common now that they may not even be worth mention. “Don’t forget, that all these activities are self-funded. They are not funded by the star,” says G. Dhananjayan, author of The Best of Tamil Cinema and head of UTV-South.
For many of the fans, spending a month’s income on a single day of celebration is no different from perhaps the cost of a religious ceremony. Likewise, the sense of brotherhood between fans also comes naturally. When celebrations for the star’s birthday were planned in Chennai for December 12 (12.12.12), many fans came into town and found immediate community or accommodation with other members of fan clubs. Some even connected through the Internet. “It is part of the fan’s lifestyle, a part of creating an identity for themselves. And ourselves. When I say ‘them’ please don’t think I am not one of them. I am a fan too,” said Prof. Hariharan, Dean of the LV Prasad Film School.
(Above): Director Rinku Kalsy at the threatre release of “Sivaji 3D” in Chennai.
The film was shot over four years with extensive research among the fans and their family-members. The filmmaker, Rinku Kalsy, had a high paying job in Hong Kong, which she quit, sold her home – and invested everything into a becoming a filmmaker in the Netherlands. “In some ways, this is actually very rational behavior,” says Kalsy. “Many of the fans are actually very poor, they are not part of the growing affluence in India, for decades the one time they are on center stage is the day a film releases. For that period, they are the main people in their neighborhood. Being part of the club, or of the celebrations gives people a real sense of community. After a while, the activities of the fan club become second nature.”
The film explores a diverse range of fans ranging in age from 18-65. One fan, Gopi, is a gas company laborer and ardent fan who started by stealing money from his father to finance film celebrations, and eventually had to sell his home in debt over fan activities. Now middle-aged, his losses over the years have done nothing to dent his enthusiasm for the star, as he still continues to meet with other fan club members and spend on any Rajnikanth-related event.
Another character is a G. Mani, a reformed gangster from Foreshore Estate slums in Chennai, who spent much of his youth as a hired hand for riots and political events. Now in his 50s, he is known as ‘Peanut Mani’ since he started selling peanuts, claiming that the songs from Rajnikanth films appealed to his conscience and made him reform. Indeed many of the songs in Rajnikanth’s films are clearly aimed at his fans, referencing and lionizing the common man, sending coded messages on righteous social behavior. Once known for his trademark cigarette switch, Rajnikanth turned to chewing gum after his film Sivaji and went on an anti-smoking campaign almost immediately prompting several of his fans to go cold-turkey overnight.
(Above): Crew filming gas agency laborer Gopi, one of the fans featured in the film.
Several other memorable characters in the film include a milkman who vowed to name his child after a Rajnikanth film, and when the baby was born female, he nonetheless named her Sivaji, a politician who claims his wife stopped sleeping with him because of his erratic behavior whenever Rajnikanth fell ill, and a plumber who lives in abject poverty, and comes alive each time he is called on stage to perform as a Rajnikanth mimicry artist.
Though the majority of dedicated fan club members are from poor and lower-middle class backgrounds, Rajnikanth has truly transcended class and age over the years in part because of his 35-year career that has gone through significant transformations. Ranging from art-house productions to popular blockbusters, his star has endured down the years. Rajnikanth appears publicly in real-life as an ageing man-next-door, which is in much contrast to his screen image of a larger-than-life savior and superhuman. The film explores how this irony adds to his cult of personality as a simple man of the masses, and sets him apart as someone the fans will do just about anything for.
For old fans like middle-aged auto-driver Ravi Anna, the magic hasn’t died, Rajni still represents the frozen nostalgia of their youth, a virility that refuses to move into past tense. But times have surely changed. “In the old days,” he says, “our celebrations were the main thing. The fans built the film. But nowadays the film gets sold by these boys on the Internet. We can’t do that, but in the street, we are still the kings.” Indeed, Tendulkar may have retired, but Rajnikanth’s next movie will reaffirm the warm comfort his generation is alive and well.
The film is already making waves in the independent circuit when it was selected last week for the prestigious Binger Filmclub in Amsterdam. The filmmakers have entirely self-funded the shooting so far, but are appealing to fans to crowdsource the cost of post-production.
To donate to the crowdsourcing campaign, visit http://cinecrowd.com/love-man.