Ponniyin Selvan — Part 2 (PS2)

A decadent story immersed in emotions

ganpy
7 min readMay 3, 2023

It was certainly challenging for me to write solely about Ponniyin Selvan — Part 2 (PS2), but having written about PS1, I am compelled to share my reflections on PS2. My thoughts on this continuation of the story are necessary for me to feel complete.

With the completion of his two-part film series, Mani Ratnam has masterfully condensed Kalki’s five-part novel into a stunning audio-visual experience that will remain unforgettable in the annals of movie history. Working alongside writers Jeyamohan, Elango Kumaravel, Ratnam the writer, has captured the essence of Kalki’s series through its best aspects, creating a truly exceptional work of art that will stand the test of time.

From its stunning visuals and impeccable camerawork to its soul-stirring music, Mani Ratnam’s PS2 is a cinematic masterpiece that leaves a lingering impact on the audience.

At the core of this cinematic marvel, is a decadent story that delves deep into the emotions of its characters. The opening shot of PS2 features water and a head bobbing out, leaving the viewer anticipating a continuation from where the first movie (PS1) left us off. However, the first few minutes of PS2 take us on a journey of a young prince in training who falls head over heels for a young orphan girl, being raised by a local temple priest — the backstory of Aditha Karikalan and Nandini.

The shaky camera work adds to the turbulence of their surroundings and immerses us into the essence of these young souls falling in love. With the girl’s heart-melting rendition of “Thiruppavai” (in the voice of Harini singing “Aazhi Mazhai Kanna”), the writers make it clear that Aditha Karikalan and Nandini are the focus of PS2. Even Kalki’s words could not have brought life to this young romance as much these first few minutes did.

In PS2, we see more of Aditha Karikalan and Nandini when compared to PS1. Vikram gets some solid scoring moments and he aces them all, which is not a surprise, while Aishwarya Rai’s screen presence is enough to lift her scenes, but boy, has she made sure we will find it hard to to imagine or accept any other actor playing Nandini ever again on screen?

We get to see a more vulnerable Nandini in PS2. She is ruthless as ever with her Pandiyan co-conspirators, but there is a scene with Vandiyathevan where we get to see her vulnerability. When she discovers that Vandiyathevan holds a secret about her ancestry, her facade crumbles, and she sheds a tear while confessing her deepest fears. This scene is just an example of how PS2 peels back the layers of its characters, uncovering new depths to their personalities, making it an exceptional sequel that should not be missed.

The scene where Karikalan and Nandini finally meet as adults in front of the Kadambur palace is one to remember (their last meeting was unforgettable but also sinful and gory, when Karikalan walks into the hut to behead Veerapandiyan). Ravi Varman’s camera keeps giving us close-up shots of Vikram’s and Aishwarya Rai’s faces while getting jiggly. We feel Karikalan’s horse trying to settle down with the restless camera movement, adding to the intensity, and we also get to witness Vikram taunting his grandfather and other local chieftains about their plot to overthrow his father and impede his ascension. The sarcasm and wordplay become enjoyable thanks to some wonderful dialogues by Jeyamohan.

Speaking of camerawork, within Mani Ratnam’s filmmaking, there are captivating camerawork moments that leave an impression on audiences. For instance, the spinning camera that hovers over Sundara Chozhar (played by Prakash Raj) as he thinks of his lost love Mandakini, is a cinematically beautiful reflection on pain. This scene’s camerawork is reminiscent of a similar moment in Iruvar (also featuring Prakash Raj). Additionally, the scene set on a remote island where a blindfolded Vanthiyathevan encounters Kundavai is a wonderfully staged moment. As the camera gets closer to the couple, their romance slowly unravels. These moments reflect the cinematic aesthetics that continue to make Mani Ratnam a revered filmmaker.

Both PS1 and PS2 films do not try to fish for material from within the books and try to recreate visual versions of the same. If it was not clear in PS1, PS2 should settle that doubt. These films have tried to adopt the traits of the characters portrayed so much in detail by Kalki and have reimagined situations for these characters to meet in order to propel the story. Yes, what you thought were some insignificant decisions by these characters in PS1, end up casting a long shadow on the events of the PS2. As an example, in PS1, Karikalan refuses to kill Khottiga and lets him go after a victorious Rashtrakuta war, and we see the consequences of that decision in PS2.

The unresolved questions in Kalki’s books

There are two major questions that Kalki leaves open in his novel. The first is regarding the identity of Nandini and her ultimate fate, while the second is the unknown assassin of Karikalan. Despite PS2’s attempts to provide a clear resolution to the latter, some viewers were probably left disappointed. Nonetheless, the film, like the novel, still leaves room for subjective interpretation of the events that occurred within Kadambur palace.

On the other hand, the cinematic adaptation of the first question granted some freedom for Mani Ratnam and his team to present a more conclusive account of Nandini’s identity and what happens to her in the aftermath of Kadambur tragedy. While Kalki’s work has fascinated readers for decades, these enigmas stand out as particularly captivating and continue to engage audiences to speculate about the events and entertain themselves. Which exactly is the beauty of the written medium, but expecting the same enigmas in a different format is a bit far-fetched and exactly why the cinematic liberty taken up here feels justified.

The plot point switch

The most contentious plot twist in the film adaptation of the popular book series left book readers reeling, myself included. However, upon a second viewing, I came to appreciate the bold decision to alter the story’s narrative. The reason being that the film is two parts, and brevity is key. After reaching two monumental “highs” in cinematic parlance, in the last 30 minutes, it would have been a cinematic blunder to add such a massive plot twist as well in the end. While book readers may argue that the twist would have been satisfying, in my opinion, it would have ultimately ruined this film (given there is not going to a PS3).

My only critique around this plot point switch is that it felt a bit tame in the end. Ponniyin Selvan’s decision is so significant and it is a sacrifice that should weigh so heavily on him, but somehow, it did not translate well on screen.

The casting of Vikram, Aishwarya Rai, Karthi, Trisha and Jeyam Ravi is just perfect. Aishwarya Lekshmi and Shobita do a fantastic job too although I would have preferred more meticulous attention being given to Poonkuzhali’s closure in the movie, given that Sendhan Amudhan’s character remained at the periphery (which worked for me).

Ravi Varman’s breathtaking cinematography, Sreekar Prasad’s precise editing, Eka Lakhani’s costumes, Thotta Tharani’s artwork, Anand Krishnamoorthi’s sound design — They all contribute to the film’s beauty and grandeur.

And finally AR Rahman. As much as I loved his slightly anachronistic approach to PS1, in PS2, he resorts to a more classical and subtle layered approach, which was evident from the songs that got released over a month ago. I had already written about the songs of PS1 and PS2 in a separate post. When it comes to Rahman’s background score in PS2, he elevates each and every scene through his immersive music — poignant and haunting when emotions have to play out, while orchestral and grand, when the mood is royal, brave, or combative. If the use of “Chinnanjiru” and “Chinnanjiru (Marumurai)” are just as expected in the movie, the use of “Ilaiyor Soodar” is brilliant beyond words. Not something I expected at all. This is a song from Puranaanooru and is sort of an elegy. An elegy sung after an emperor’s death. But how it is used here gives me goosebumps even now to think about it. The song is used during the death of someone who could best be termed as a savior or a benevolent mystical ghost and definitely not as an emperor, but whose character deserves a requiem of grandeur. And that’s why the placement of this song feels so surreal.

Adapting a colossal tale into film: A herculean feat

No matter who takes on the challenge of turning a massive story like this into a two or three-part film, one thing remains certain: it is no small feat. The team behind such an endeavor deserves heaps of credit. Yes, changes to the story will inevitably be made. Certain plots and subplots may be removed or reduced, and if you ask diehard book fans, they may claim that PS2 is no exception and it falls victim to this ‘issue’ when compared to the books.

However, once you let go of the need to compare the books and the films, you will see that PS2 or the Ponniyin Selvan series as a whole for that matter, is a treasure trove of poignant and culturally rich storytelling. The movie is bursting with elements of adventure, love, revenge, and pride, all of which are seen through a personal lens of the characters themselves.

This is a masterful adaptation of Kalki’s work by Mani Ratnam and his team. And as a viewer and a fan, I am more than satisfied with the final product.

Thank you, Mani sir and team!!

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ganpy
ganpy

Written by ganpy

Entrepreneur, Author of "TEXIT - A Star Alone" (thriller) and short stories, Moody writer writing "stuff". Politics, Movies, Music, Sports, Satire, Food, etc.

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