An Actor’s Guide To Playing God
They ask us to treat the crown like a god. And so, we never placed it on the floor. When I wear it, I do not feel like a mere mortal. There is something divine about it.
Breaking the tradition is one of the proudest moments for me. As an actor, I have learnt so much from the workshop—how to break away from my inhibitions. We tend to exaggerate emotions. The workshop trained me to modulate my acting.
I gave my first performance when I was 12. I played Draupadi, a very important character in the therukoothu narrative. I remember being so moved by the performance of my co-actor, a legendary performer. He was enacting the role of Dushyasana. And, I almost cried out of fear because that’s how realistic and scary he was. I could see my mother, who was in the audience, in tears too.
Krishnan and his wife, Antony Janagi attempt to keep the art form alive and relevant by joining hands with theatre troupes who call them for acting workshops. Media channels like Puthiya Thalamurai rope them in to deliver short performances for satirical news programs.
Otherwise, there is no scope for therukoothu in Chennai. Many in the city, especially theatre and film actors, are fascinated by the medium. We get calls from groups like Koothu-P-Pattarai and Marapachi. They want to learn it in-depth.
Therukoothu still survives in the villages of Tamil Nadu because of its divine association.
“It is a ritualistic form of theatre practiced in the temples. The performance that begins in the evening lasts the entire night for 10 days of the festival. People treat the performer as God. So, after the show, everyone, including the feudal lord in the village, will fall at the feet of the actor who played Arjuna or any other heroic character. That’s why we love this medium. You get to play God.”
The Mugamudigal workshop will end with a performance on May 6, 6.30 pm at Satya Mahal Hall, Lake View Road, West Mambalam. Entry is free.