Nana Patekar, the firecracker who made Rajinikanth's Kaala burn brighter

Nana Patekar's Hari Dada in Kaala offered a glimpse of the veteran actor's extraordinary craft. Restrained, menacing and meticulous, he gave Rajinikanth one of his most compelling screen adversaries in Pa Ranjith's 2018 classic.

In Short

• Nana Patekar's role as Hari Dada in Kaala is widely praised
• Hari Dada is a calm, cunning villain, unlike typical antagonists
• The white vs black symbolism highlights their conflict

Haridev Abhayankar. Or Hari Dada.

I haven't followed a lot of Nana Patekar's work in Hindi and Marathi. But I was fortunate enough to get a glimpse of the effortlessness and meticulousness of the veteran actor through one performance: his stellar role as Rajinikanth's villain in Pa Ranjith's 2018 classic, Kaala.

Rajinikanth is often known for his style. He isn't necessarily regarded as one of the finest craftsmen when it comes to acting, especially when compared with the likes of Kamal Haasan. That comparison, of course, is being made at the very upper echelons of Indian cinema.

Over the last two decades, Rajinikanth has largely chosen the mass commercial route and found extraordinary success with it. But films like Kaala underline what a fine actor he can be when given the space to perform. And I don't think the film would have worked quite the same way without the genius of Nana Patekar on the other side of the screen.

Hari Dada was one of the best villains in Rajinikanth's career, both in the way the character was written and in the way Nana played him.

He was Nana Pataka, a firecracker.

Rajinikanth himself knew what he had in front of him. At the Kaala audio launch in 2018, he spoke about Antony, played by Raghuvaran in Baashha, and Neelambari, played by Ramya Krishnan in Padayappa, as two of the antagonists he had particularly enjoyed playing against. Then he added Hari Dada to that list.

There are two antagonists who I found to the best. One is Mark Antony (played by Raghuvaran) in Baashha and Nilambari (played by Ramya Krishnan) in Padayappa. Now, after them, it is going to be Nana Patekar's Haridada in Kaala.
Rajinikanth at Kaala audio launch in Chennai in 2018

If Raghuvaran was the suave underworld criminal in Baashha and Ramya Krishnan the fiery, angry young woman in Padayappa, Hari Dada was something else. He was cunning, calm and calculative, and, most importantly, he played the casteist oppressor without making the character cartoonish. There was no need for constant shouting or theatrics. The disdain he had for people from Kaala's world, the people of Dharavi, came through in the smallest mannerisms.

Less is often more, they say, and Nana seemed to understand exactly how much less he needed.

WHITE VS BLACK

In 2018, I went for an evening show of Kaala in one of the small-town movie halls in Hosur, near Bengaluru.

Nana Patekar's character is introduced through banners across Mumbai before he actually appears on the screen. He is a powerful politician, the spearhead of the 'Clean Mumbai' project, someone who wants to weed out what he considers the filth of Dharavi. He is always dressed in white. Kaala is almost always in black. The contrast is so obvious that it could have become heavy-handed, but Ranjith and his team make it work beautifully. Whenever Hari Dada is on-screen in his house, you see white sofas, white curtains, white clothes and his white SUV.

When Hari Dada first enters Kaala's chawl in Dharavi, it feels as if this white, polished world has walked into a place of noise and chaos. But that is precisely the contrast Ranjith wants you to feel. Hari Dada looks out of place, and yet he carries himself as if everyone else is out of place. Nana doesn't need to explain his contempt for Kaala's family or the people around him. He makes you feel it.

The first encounter itself is a firecracker.

But the high point of the film, and one of the points where Rajinikanth the actor shines through, is the confrontation inside Hari Dada's house. By then, Hari Dada's attempt to eliminate Kaala had resulted in the deaths of Kaala's wife, Selvi (Eswari Rao), and his son, Selvam (Dileepan). Kaala goes to Hari Dada's house knowing exactly what he is walking into. He is there to tell him that he will not become weak and that he will continue to fight for his people and their land.

That land is at the heart of Kaala. Hari Dada wants to acquire Dharavi and push through his 'Clean Dharavi' redevelopment project, selling it as a plan to provide slum-dwellers with modern homes and better infrastructure. Kaala sees what lies underneath it. For him, the land isn't simply property. It is home, history, identity and community. Hari Dada sees an opportunity; Kaala sees something that cannot be bought.

TENSION WITHOUT VIOLENCE

So the two men sit across from each other, on opposite sofas. No guns. No sickles. No physical fight. Just two actors talking. And somehow the tension is far greater than what you see when a hero and villain are throwing punches at each other.

"Aao, Kaala, aao," Nana says when Kaala enters the house, his voice booming through the room.

Kaala is dressed in his usual black. Everything else, including Nana's kurta and pyjama, is white. His house is white. Hari Dada apologises for what happened to Kaala's wife and son. "Thappu nadanthudichu. En thappu illa, Bhagavanodathu," he tells him. It was a mistake. It wasn't his fault, it was God's. Then comes the chillingly casual, "I am sorry. Please maaf kardo. Baito, baito." Sit down.

Imagine a villain doing this.

There is something deeply unsettling about the way the scene is written and the way Nana delivers it. He is not pleading for forgiveness. He is not afraid of Kaala. He is simply performing the social ritual of an apology because, in his mind, he has nothing to fear.

Then Hari Dada's granddaughter comes into the room and offers Kaala water. As she leaves, she tells her grandfather that Kaala seems like a nice person and asks him not to kill him. Hari Dada repeats this to Kaala and laughs. It is one of those moments where Nana manages to make a seemingly harmless line sound wicked.

Then he turns to Kaala and says, "Kaala, kaisa naam hai re? Sollum pothe vayellam koosuthu." What kind of a name is Kaala? Just saying it makes my mouth cringe.

He says it with a smile, almost casually, but the disdain cuts deep.

Nana moves between Hindi, Tamil and English with remarkable ease, and the language itself becomes part of Hari Dada's personality. He is comfortable everywhere because he believes the world belongs to people like him.

"This black colour. It's disgusting. My eyes can't take it," he says at one point.

Nana plays all of this without turning Hari Dada into a caricature. He is ruthless, but he is also convinced that he is right. That is what makes the character so uncomfortable to watch. And then the conversation turns to power and property. Kaala asks him why he is so hungry for land and power when none of it will matter after death. What is he going to take with him?

Hari Dada knows the answer. Of course, he does.

He talks about the six feet of land in which they will eventually be buried. Nothing is permanent. Lord Krishna has already said so. He knows all of this. But that doesn't stop him.

“Even if it’s for two days, the land should be in my name. I will be happy. Do you have any problem?” he says, suddenly raising his pitch for the first time in the scene.

And then Nana shifts again. The pitch drops. The aggression disappears.

“Power is my life.”

It is such a beautifully written and enacted scene. And watching Rajinikanth and Nana Patekar go at each other across those two sofas is a joy. There is tension, menace and even a little mischief in the exchange. It feels like two veteran actors who know exactly what they are capable of, enjoying themselves while giving each other enough room to shine.

Perhaps that is why, with Nana Patekar's death today, I find myself going back to Hari Dada.

I know, of course, that his career stretches far beyond Kaala. His name has been attached to some of Hindi and Marathi cinema's most celebrated films, and his work has earned him three National Film Awards and the Padma Shri. But knowing an actor's reputation and actually watching him work are two different things.

What I did get, through Hari Dada, was a glimpse. And sometimes, a glimpse is enough to make you understand that you are watching something special.

- Ends