Once upon a time Malayalam cinema was a veritable treasure house of fabulous character actors. There were female actors who could play moms, grandmoms, mothers-in-law, sisters to antagonists with aplomb.
The reason why they endeared even as antagonists was because of their natural behavioral style of acting. Some names that suddenly came to my mind were Aranmula Ponnamma, Kaviyoor Ponnamma, Philomena, Adoor Bhavani, Meena, TR Omana and KPAC Lalitha. Among these actors, Philomena who made her mark by playing Muslim characters earlier in her career was special.
Maybe today’s youngsters haven’t even heard of her. It’s been 16 years since she left us. But her role in ‘Godfather’ remains unforgettable—the feisty Anappara Achamma who locked horns with the formidable Anjooran, played by NN Pillai. I am sure there isn’t anyone from the current generation who hasn’t watched the film.
Along with her Muslim characters, she has been as effective playing Hindu mothers and grandmothers (think ‘Kireedom’ and ‘Venkalam’) as well as the Christian characters in ‘Uppukandam Brothers’ and ‘Kambolam’. I don’t think there were character roles that she couldn't pull off.
She debuted in cinema in 1963. Though she acted in big and small roles, I started noticing her in PN Menon’s ‘Olavum Theeravum’ (1971). She played Usha Nandini’s mother in the film. Seeing her performance as a mother hailing from a poor Muslim family in North Kerala, I nearly thought she was one. It was through Chithra Paurnamaki magazine that we were able to know about the lives of technicians and actors in Malayalam cinema.
When I debuted as a scriptwriter in 1980, I wanted her to be part of my films. But I could make that a reality only in ‘Gajakesariyogam’ which came 9 years later, directed by PG Vishwambaran.
The shooting of the film was at Shornur. I met her for the first time there and I was fascinated by her Trissur slang and laughter. During a lunch break, she asked me very seriously— “Who gave you this name? I have never heard of such a name before?” Trissur residents have this habit of getting overfamiliar quickly and would resort to “eda, poda and chekka” names before we know it. Philomena chechi was no different.
I started explaining to her about its origin—” Chechi, my father had a younger brother who was called Paul mash. At that time, there were very few educated people in Kaloor. He was the headmaster of St Alberts high school. He named us after consulting English books. Including my name Dennis, it was our uncle who gave names like Placit, Adolph, Delphy, Roofi, Richard, Eediphecs to some of our family members. Most of the people in Kaloor would consult our uncle to name their children.”
On hearing this Philomena chechi replied—“Though the names are nice to hear, it’s a bit difficult to pronounce. My name is so useless. I wish your uncle was around to give me a nice name.” She laughed heartily at her own joke.
After ‘Gajakesariyogam’ she kept in touch with me. During that time I was making small budget films with Jagadish and Siddique and transforming them into hits. And I would make sure she had a role in them. She has acted in most of my films during that period—'Innathe Program’, ‘Mimics Parade’, ‘Kasaragod Kadarbhai’, ‘Kunukkitta Kozhi’, ‘Sthreedhanam’, ‘Congratulations Miss Anitha Menon’, ‘Koodikazhcha’, ‘Uppukandam Brothers’, ‘Bharya’, ‘Kadal’, ‘Street’, ‘Kambolam’, ‘Thumboli Kadappuram’, ‘Kalyanji Anandji’, ‘Boxer’, ‘James Bond’ etc.
Though she has always been jovial and happy when we have met, I suspected that things weren’t really hunky-dory at home. Her only son was married, and she lived alone. It wasn’t all well between the mother and son and she shifted to a rented house in Kaloor in 1999.
I stayed a few miles away from her flat. When I visited her flat for the first time, she confided a lot of things to me. She was suffering from ailments and other financial issues. I felt terrible when she said she was going through her last days in life.
But when she would quickly hide it all behind a huge grin and start cracking jokes, I couldn’t resist telling her that's how great actors are moulded, from their own vast experiences in life. It’s the pain and tribulations in life that help them to go through a rollercoaster of emotions as an actor. She typically dismissed it with a “Poda chekka.”
In 2001, I had an opportunity to take part in a Gulf programme organised by ‘Sthreedhanam’ producer Muhammad. I had planned an entertainment night featuring skits and musical shows with actors like Ashokan, Kottayam Nazeer, Shiyas, Bheeman Raghu, Kaveri and singer Venugopal. Baiju Kottarakkara was the show director. When I told Philomena chechi about this programme, she expressed a desire to be part of it. Muhammad was also thrilled by the idea of including Philomena in the show as he felt we could add a lot of comedy items.
It was a lovely trip to Dubai in 2001. Our next programme was after 2 days. We stayed at a posh hotel there. Philomena chechi who was a foodie relished the Arabian food served there.
I took Philomena chechi to visit my wife’s relative, Faxi in Al Ain who has a medical shop and dispensary there. When we checked our blood sugar levels, we discovered that I had 340 and she had 490. Though I felt bad, she typically brushed it aside.
“You should be more careful,” I told her.
“Is 490 really high?” she asked me.
I didn’t let that go. “You want to reach 500? Please be careful”
“Oh! Now, what’s there to worry about. Let’s cross the bridge when we come to it.” She played it down.
But the truth was that she was afraid of death. At least I was able to understand that much through our interactions. She would often switch to philosophy—“What’s the point of living if we have to struggle so much to live?”
She was never worried about her rising blood sugar levels. When I used to go jogging at Kaloor stadium, I would advise my friends to avoid sweets, and eventually, I had to amputate my right leg due to diabetes. That’s why some learned person said—“Anyone can give free advice. After all, advice is like castor oil.”
