From Commissioner To Kannur Squad, How Malayalam Cop Films Came Of Age

THERE is a moment in Roby Varghese Raj’s Kannur Squad when ASI George Martin of the Kerala Police is told by his senior that since they are low-ranking officials, they don’t have the provision to arrange flight tickets for his team to travel to Uttar Pradesh for nabbing the men accused of assassinating a local politician. George listens from the other end of the phone, tonelessly responds with an “Okay sir,” vexingly passes on the message to his eager team, and then stares at their Tata Sumo and muses, “This is our fifth cop.” What’s significant is that the ASI is played by Mammootty, an actor and a superstar who has slipped into countless (roughly 35) cop characters in his four-decade-old career. More than the numbers, what’s impressive is the actor’s willingness to play various shades of a designation that’s usually depicted in binaries in cinema. That too, with such nuance. In fact, if you simply take the actor’s trajectory of cop roles in Malayalam cinema alone, it can perhaps draw us towards the evolution of celluloid cops from the ‘80s till now. Perhaps Mammootty is the only superstar in Malayalam cinema who has played the different gradations and rankings of a cop.

Mammootty’s blazing, righteous, profanity-spewing Circle Inspector Balram in Avanazhi (1986) can be attributed as the ‘archetype’ that led to a legion of angry young cops in Malayalam cinema. That was clearly the inspiration for script writer Ranji Panicker while moulding the character of Police Commissioner Bharathchandran, played by Suresh Gopi, in Commissioner a decade later. Not only did Commissioner elevate Gopi’s market value, but also made the actor synonymous with cop roles in Malayalam cinema for the longest time. Since the characters came at a time when narratives were primed around alpha-male heroes, Suresh Gopi’s cops could leverage the situation. Be it Mohammad Sarkar (FIR), RD Nayanar (Janathipathyam), Easo Panicker (Crime File), DYSP Ashoka Nariman (Nariman), Antony Punnekkadan (Twenty-20), or DCP Joseph Vadakkan (Christian Brothers), save for the different plotlines, his roles in khaki largely stuck to the same template — brash, angry, upright officers who wanted to take on the world. And the actor failed to bring any variations or hues to his characters. In hindsight all the characters he played later were cut from the same cloth as his most popular cop avatar: Bharathchandran.

Mammootty, though, as mentioned earlier, has done a whole spectrum of cop characters: ranging from top-ranking officials to those at the bottom of the hierarchy. He even popularised the image of CBI officers in Kerala. From the unassuming SI Jacob Irazhi in Yavanika who was perhaps the earliest depiction of a realistic cop in Malayalam cinema; the affable and sharp Sethurama Iyer in Oru CBI Diary Kurippu, a character so iconic that he featured in four sequels over the next few decades; the flamboyant but matter-of-fact DYSP Perumal in August 1; the plain-speaking, efficient SI Haridas Damodaran in Ee Thanutha Veluppan Kalathu; the loud show-off, Head Constable Karikkamuri Shanmugan in Black; the unflappable ACP Narendran in Roudram, who continues to champion his cause despite being a victim of the system; the impetuous Casanova CI Rajan Zachariah in Kasaba who exchanges sexual innuendos with a female colleague; to the vulnerable, insecure SI Mani in Unda who has never fired a gun in his career… this range of performances showcases the actor’s brilliant capacity to keep his characters distinct, unique and nuanced.

In sharp contrast, though Mohanlal’s repertoire of cop characters is scarce, they have stood out for their individuality. His ACP Hariprasad in Mukham and Kariyilakkattu Pole’s DSP Achuthan Kutty, curt and efficient, are similar in their approach and body language; but Munnam Mura’s Ali Imran — a cop who quits the force due to the prejudices he faces — sits lightly on the actor. On the other hand, Olympian Anthony Adam’s SP Antony Varghese, who is on an undercover mission in a school, is exuberant and larger-than-life — and Mohanlal amps him up. His IG Chandrashekar is battling marital issues and is also required to nab a serial killer in Grandmaster. Though he plays it down initially, it turns out to be a lull before the inevitable glorification of his character unfolds.

Mumbai Police’s ACP Antony Moses (played by Prithviraj Sukumaran) was etched to be more about the character’s persona than his profession. A cocky, sexist, foul-tempered cop who misuses his position to get his way, Moses eventually ends up as a fatality of his male ego. Prithviraj’s ASP Sam Alex in Memories, another feted cop disillusioned with the system, takes to the bottle but eventually gets back to his job with great results. Mostly, both outings have been tailored to fit into the realm of alpha-male narratives.

Female cops have been catalysts of such alpha-male narratives in Malayalam cinema, often reduced to either honey traps for luring criminals, or playing second fiddle to the might of the heroes. Drishyam’s efficient, manipulative, headstrong Geetha IPS (Asha Sharath) and the unfazed, sharp DCP Catherine (Unnimaya Prasad) in Anjaam Pathiraa probably are the two notable exceptions to this rule.

NEW CASE FILES

If many of these above-mentioned superstar vehicles were not cop films in the true sense of the term, subscribing instead to a larger-than-life cult of personality, the last few years have seen solid entries in the genre. The Abrid Shine-directed Action Hero Biju (2016) was one of the earliest attempts at putting together a realistic police procedural. There is SI Biju Paulose (Nivin Pauly), who has none of the trappings of his celluloid predecessors (yet gets a flashy entry and background score). The film chronicles the days and events in the life of SI Biju, who along with his team of young, older and agile colleagues, wrestles with petty cases, domestic disturbances, drug peddling and thefts. Shine keeps the proceedings as authentic as possible, and therefore the humor and pathos often stream in unrehearsed.

Released the next year, Dileesh Pothan’s Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum — set in the dry lands of Kasaragod — was another grounded police procedural. A thief caught swallowing a young bride’s gold chain is brought to the police station, and it is left to the cops to extract the chain from him. Layered with humor, the cops are shown to lead very dreary, humdrum lives, peppered with minor cases and domestic squabbles. For them, this is just another job, often without rewards. Each cop — mostly lower-ranking officers, some of them awaiting retirement — has a distinct outline, bringing forth the reality of a job that’s often glorified on screen.

Similarly, Khalid Rahman’s Unda — inspired by a news report about a bunch of Kerala cops stationed in North India for slection duty — also impresses with its painstaking attempts to keep the lives of the cops authentic. Interestingly, it is headlined by a superstar who has done his fair share of larger-than-life cops previously, but here he is stripped of valour and becomes an ordinary SI who goes numb with fear under pressure. Each of the nine cops who travels for their election duty in a Maoist-prone area in Chhattisgarh is given an identity and arc, as they grapple with caste bias, insecurity, and financial constraints. We are privy to their struggles in their new habitat, having to make do with basic facilities, including scarcity of ammunition to protect themselves.

Taking a cue from the recent surge of realistic cop dramas, Tharun Moorthy’s debut — Operation Java — focused on cyber police, a hitherto unexplored cop division in Malayalam cinema. The narrative takes us through the dark underbelly of cybercrime, headlined by a group of ordinary cops who go on with their jobs without making a big deal of it.

Martin Prakkat’s Nayattu was an edgy political drama that showed cops being the victims and vindicators of a ruthless and morally ambiguous system. It bore into the politics of caste and oppression within the police force and how they often end up being mere pawns in the bigger political game. Three of the main cops get an inward sketch, mining into their domestic conflicts. Again, hardly a rosy picture with the cops struggling to stay afloat, aware and vulnerable of a system that can easily ambush them. Even Roshan Andrews’s Salute, a smartly written police procedural, gave conflicting layers to a young, honest cop (Dulquer Salmaan) who is constantly let down by his own family and the vile power games of the system.

The recent series of cop characters all seem to be a subversion of the earlier glorified hero roles perfected by superstars. There are no vigilantes wearing khakis, mouthing heavy monologues about duty and integrity, or indulging in snarky punchlines or cussing contests. Instead, we have flawed, ordinary, insecure men who unwillingly turn enablers of a system that ends up manipulating them. What’s also apparent is the homework and research that goes into these characters, with a clear-eyed focus to keep them multi-dimensional. Take the two constables who are stationed on a hilltop in Ela Veezha Poonchira: not only are the topography and posting unheard of, but the writers (also former cops) bring tremendous nuances to the narrative. Though the film itself turns out to be a dark, brooding crime thriller, the lives of the two policemen on duty are shown succinctly.

On paper, Kuttavum Shikshayum and Kannur Squad are about a bunch of Kerala cops who trace the criminals/miscreants of theft/murder to North India. But what’s different is the treatment. The former — a Rajeev Ravi procedural — unhurriedly offers insights into the grimy, hectic, unstable and largely tiresome workspace of a cop. Nothing much seems to be happening on screen, yet the cops are relentlessly in pursuit, following leads, roughing up possible suspects, and are often huddled up inside dirty motels. Unrewarding and relentless, there is no space to get worked up about their personal failures. But the narrative despite its realistic sketch leaves you cold, along with the characters. Kannur Squad on the other hand straddles both worlds seamlessly—the realistic as well as the cinematic terrain. So though you have Mammootty playing a very ordinary ASI who along with his men has to travel across India to nab criminals, there are those carefully curated little flashes of heroism that land correctly. And the four men in the squad are so in sync with each other that their emotional alignment heartwarmingly lingers. Yet, at its core Kannur Squad draws the tough, relentless, uncertain, and unrewarding lives of cops unapologetically.