A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

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Showing posts with label Shadow Kill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shadow Kill. Show all posts

Thursday, November 20, 2025

Shadow Kill (Adoor Gopalakrishnan, 2002)


Director Adoor Gopalakrishnan
Cast: Oduvil Unnikrishnan, Sukumari, Mallika, Thara Kalyan, Murali, Sivakumar, Narain, Nedumudi Venu, Vijayaragavan, Jagathy Sreekumar, Indrans, Kukku Parameshruwaram. Screenplay: Adoor Gopalakrishnan. Cinematography: Sunny Joseph, Mankada Ravi Varma. Production design: Raheesh Babu, Adoor Gopalakrishan. Film editing: B. Ajithkumar. Music: Ilaiyaraaja. 

Shadow Kill, which is also known as Nizhalkkuthu, is my introduction to the films of Adoor Gopalakrishnan and a reminder of how much I am at sea in films from other cultures. I don't know, for example, how much of the story is based on actual criminal justice practices in pre-independence India and how much is fictional. Taken in itself, the film is a fable about guilt and justice, centered in the practice of capital punishment. It takes place in the kingdom of Travancore, where Kaliyappan (Oduvil Unnikrishnan) is the official executioner. He's a man wracked with guilt for what he has done in his professional capacity, particularly the fear that he has put innocent people to death. As the hangman, he is presented the rope used after each execution, which he burns and consecrates to the goddess Kali to be used as holy ash in the treatment of the sick. His guilt has driven him to drink, but he's not the only one who feels cursed by the administration of capital punishment: The authorities, fearing divine retribution, have made it a practice to pardon all those condemned to death, but for the pardon to arrive only after the execution has taken place. Much of the film consists of a story told by the jailer as a drunken Kaliyappan struggles to stay awake before an execution: It deal with the rape and murder of a girl that has been wrongly pinned on her lover. When the jailer reveals that it's the man he's about to execute, Kaliyappan collapses, but his son, a follower of Gandhi in the struggle for India's freedom, dutifully takes his place as executioner. Gopalakrishnan provides no explanation for the son's act, leaving viewers to explicate the story's more on their own. It's beautifully filmed and Unnikrishnan's performance is excellent, but I wonder how much of my puzzled reaction to the movie comes from my own ignorance of Indian culture and history.