The first thing that came to my mind when I got an unusually long vacation was that I could watch all the movies that have been rotting in my movies list since time immemorial. I would finally emerge as the ultimate cinephile who has watched all the “great” and “must watch” movies. But did I? The increasing COVID cases, news of natural calamities, and other disturbances have been eating me up as they have everyone else. After multiple failed attempts at watching Psycho (1960) and 12 Years a Slave (2013), I found myself searching for old and familiar movies to escape reality. My search ended in Kandukondain Kandukondain, whose title translates to, “I have found it”. The movie came out in 2000 when multi-starrer movies were scarce, and here you have a stellar cast of Aishwarya Rai, Tabu, Mammooty, Ajith and Abbas (who was a pretty big deal at the time)—directed by Rajiv Menon, with music by the maestro A.R Rahman. Kandukondain Kandukondain is a modern Tamil adaptation of the Jane Austen novel Sense and Sensibility. An English adaptation of the novel starring Emma Thompson, Kate Winslet, Hugh Grant and Alan Rickman was released five years prior to this, and went on to win an Oscar for Best Screenplay. It is also considered to be the best and most perfect screen adaptation of the novel, which was published in 1811.

Rajiv Menon himself wrote the story for the Tamil version and has managed to adapt it for an Indian audience in a very desirable way. It tells the story of two sisters, Soumya (Tabu) and Meenakshi (Aishwarya Rai), who had been blissfully enjoying their high social and economic status until they realised their grandfather had bequeathed all of his property to their mother’s younger brother. They were thus forced to leave their ancestral home with their mother, younger sister Kamala and maidservant Chinnathai, and move to Chennai. Soumya and Meenakshi have contrasting personalities—while the former is reserved and bestowed with elder sister responsibilities, the latter is frivolous and impulsive, living in a fantasy world that involves a lot of Tamil poetry, music and dance. The movie could easily pass for an Indian Disney musical, where the main characters break into song whenever they are brimming with emotion. At the beginning, you can see Aishwarya Rai’s character merrily singing “Konjum mainakkale”, expecting the real world to be exactly like the one in her head. The lyrics in her fervent introduction song go, “Let the seasons change suitable to me,” and, “When I plant a rose it should bloom today itself”. Unfortunately, you don’t see Soumya singing a song and pouring out her emotions, because she would rather keep them all within herself.
In the novel, the only available option for the women to escape their low status is by marrying a man of property. Thus, the quest for love becomes their sole purpose in life. How does one successfully find love if she lacks money—through good looks, piano playing skills and a little sassy personality? Rajiv Menon, however, has made the sisters struggle with their unexpected poverty. This eventually makes them self-dependent and they do not wait for a saviour. Soumya initially starts as a receptionist in a software company and then becomes a junior programmer, going on to buy an apartment for her family. Jane Austen would have undoubtedly approved of this if she were aware of the possibilities women have today in the 21st century. It is not prudent to compare Mammootty with Alan Rickman, as both of them are from very different cultures, languages, and adaptations. Still, one cannot disagree that the chemistry between Mammootty’s Bala and Aishwarya Rai’s Meenakshi is far more convincing, as there is enough time dedicated to convince the audience of Bala’s affection for Meenakshi. Remember the climax scene when Captain Bala denies reality and moves away when Meenakshi confesses her love for him—if that is not one of the most genuine and heartwarming romantic scenes in the history of Indian cinema, then what is? Bollywood hasn’t explored the acting skills of Aishwarya Rai Bachchan to the extent that the Tamil industry has. The character of Meenakshi, even though she may seem simple on the surface, goes through a subtle character transformation. Aishwarya has managed to depict the change from being a stupidly romantic (and low-key selfish) girl to a grown woman who has learnt to believe in her own strength and talent quite effortlessly.
The movie may feel melodramatic for some audiences. There is a scene where Meenakshi walks through a torrential downpour crying after she realises that Srikanth is engaged, and falls into a sewer—only to be rescued by Captain Bala, who happens to be right there when it happens. The director’s previous movie Minsara Kanavu (1997) was a musical hit and he attempts to repeat this here as well. This becomes slightly unnecessary at some points. For instance, Manohar, played by Ajith, breaks into song as he is directing a movie and dances along with the junior artistes on the set, all the while thinking about Soumya. But then again, just as you can’t complain about the amount of violence in a Tarantino movie, you can’t complain about the number of songs in a Rajiv Menon-A.R Rahman movie.
Nevertheless, the film stays true to its intent, as a heartwarming tale of romance, drama and music that will leave you satisfied—even though the said satisfaction arises out of our unrealistic concept of love, and the belief that all our problems will miraculously disappear precisely the way it happened in the movie. But then again, we all deserve a cosy diversion. Kandukondain Kandukondain is one such diversion, managing to keep the audience immersed in its story with its excellent cinematography and convivial acting.
Edited by Abhirami G
