We haven't exploited Mohanlal's talent yet

Shaji N Karun could not think of anyone else but Mohanlal when he decided to make a film on the identity crisis that a Kathakali artiste faces in his life. The film, Vaanaprastham, turned out to be a major event in Mohanlal's 20-year career as an actor.

Mohanlal's performance as Kunjikkuttan won both national and international acclaim. Shaji N Karun speaks about the relative ease in coaxing an award-winning performance:

I can only express one word if I have to describe Mohanlal: wonder. I look at him with awe when he transforms himself from a person to an artiste in front of the camera. I don't know how he transforms himself. It's inexplicable. I've seen him from behind the camera when I was a cinematographer. In Hariharan's Panchagni, for instance, I had asked him how such a transformation was possible. He had no answer to it.

The European cameraman who shot Vaanaprastham had a similar experience. There was a scene in Vaanaprastham where Kunjikkuttan goes to meet his guru who is unwell. It was a long, slow sequence of around 200 ft. And the cameraman tracked him from head to foot. By the time the camera reached the foot, the cinematographer couldn't see anything -- his eyes had welled up watching Mohanlal.

We had had two rehearsals earlier. And Mohanlal did them mechanically without any emotion. But when the camera started rolling for the shot, he transformed himself amazingly. Only when we saw the rushes, did we realise that the cameraman had moved away without switching off the camera. Nobody knew about this -- a Panavision camera is silent. As the camera was still on, we saw the cameraman running to Mohanlal and embracing him with tears in his eyes.

He holds Kathakali artistes in great respect. And that was visible in his performance, too. It was as if he was bowing to them.

Mohanlal has this amazing ability to express and convey what the director wants, very fast and convincingly. I use technology to convey emotions but he uses his uncanny ability to convey emotions. His movements are so sharp and graceful that you see a kind of rhythm even when he raises his hand or moves his leg. It is a gift only he has.

I asked him again after watching him in Vaanaprastham how he managed to do that. He had no answer to give me. That is why I describe him as a gifted wonder.

For the shots in which he had to perform Kathakali, he put on the costumes and the headgear in the evening. We shot till the early hours of the day. I think it went on for eight hours or so. Throughout it all, he stood there with the kireedom (the head gear) on.

After we packed up, the man who dresses Kathakali artistes fell at Mohanlal's feet. He exclaimed that even professional Kathakali artistes never wore the kireedom (which weighs six or seven kilos) for eight hours! Usually, when Kathakali dancers get a break, the first thing they do is take off the kireedom.

Mohanlal said he forgot he had the kireedom on! Imagine forgetting wearing something so heavy. My explanation is it was because he considered the whole experience a kind of prayer, a bhakti. A human being forgets himself and all around him only when he experiences bhakti. It is not accepting anything but offering something. That is the quality that Mohanlal has.

The reason I wanted to cast him in the film was because I sensed his vast talent. When we were at Cannes, after watching Vaanaprastham, a European director told him, "You are born in the wrong part of the world."

I felt very proud, but I argued back, saying "Who said he was on the wrong side?"

But that's the truth. We have no one in India who compares to Mohanlal. He has an amazing range of emotions. I don’t think there is any emotion, comedy or serious, that he can't do. We haven't fully exploited his talent. He has a lot more to offer. A lot more.