Bazooka

April 1992, in cinematic lingua - towards the latter part of the BM era ( Before Multiplex) , a smattering of us college mates in Ernakulam waited anxiously outside Kavitha theatre on MG road. It was 9 am on a hot summer morning. We were not alone, in fact we were part of a massive crowd. A police jeep pulled up and as was the practise in those days - a couple of cops jumped out and showered abuses in general - not at anyone in specific and brandished the lathi specifically at some head load labourers who shouted back at the cops. The crowd moved to one side of the road allowing vehicles to pass by. Amidst this flutter the gates opened resulting in everyone rushing in to get to the box office - most of them running, some of them screaming - much like a river in spate. The box office was a caged enclosure and a sweaty queue formed quickly destined to wait for the next couple of hours, packed like a box of sardines. Devoid of the smarts and dexterity of the experienced folks we ended up disheartened at the tail end of the queue but given the dynamic situation of more people streaming in to join the line we were happy to see that after some time we were relatively in the middle of the queue. Some of us being students of science, maths and statistics began calculating our chances of getting tickets but as luck would have it the counter closed and displayed a houseful board when there were about 10 persons ahead of us in the queue. Heads hung low in frustration and body considerably exhausted after all that we had endured for nearly two hours, we began walking back to the gate. That's where we encountered a resourceful chap - unshaven, clad in a vest and chequered lungi, who approached us offering us tickets at double the stated price. We jumped with joy, paid him extra and ran in to sit wherever seats were available since those days seats did not carry numbers and late comers invariably ended up closer to the screen. That was on the release day of a Malayalam film of a reigning megastar. The name of that film bore resemblance to a popular brand of whiskey.

April 2025 ie firmly in the AM era ( After Multiplex), Kavitha theatre is still standing, refurbished. As I drive by around 10 in the morning I see the posters of a Malayalam film which is releasing that day, of a reigning megastar - he is also still standing, reinvented and standing strong. This time there isn't any crowd outside the theatre. On a lark, I park the car and check online for availability of tickets. The show has just begun. Next door to this theatre stands a mall which houses a multiplex and I notice that a few tickets are available and that the show starts there in the next 15 minutes. Bitten by the First Day First Show (FDFS) bug I make an attempt of navigating a U turn, driving into the basement of the mall, making it up all the way to the multiplex to reach 5 minutes before the show time and pull out my phone to book the ticket. That's when I notice a ticket counter there and walk up to join the line since there are only two persons waiting in the queue. A resourceful chap - well groomed, clad in a chequered shirt and jeans approaches me stating that he had booked two tickets but needs only one and is willing to sell me the ticket at half the price. I hesitate and dither when he informs that it is a premium aisle recliner seat in the last but one row farthest from the screen. I transfer money digitally and take a screen shot of the ticket and unhurriedly walk in to watch the FDFS. The name of this film bears resemblance to an anti tank weapon.

The FDFS experience of a superstar film is relatively muted in multiplexes in comparison to single screen theatres - understandably so. But that doesn't stop the cheers, claps and whistles when the megastar makes an entry and on various other occasions which could be called re-entry for want of a better word . Most of those scenes are similar with the megastar stylishly clad in casual chic clothes and cool shades which aren't repeated in any scene, walking into the frame in predictably slow motion set to a pulsating background score. On many occasions characters switch to teacher- student mode wherein one explains things to the other in detail and the other listens patiently. This behaviour is exhibited by many characters and they sometimes switch between these modes to enlighten us throughout the film about the world of gaming, types of games, psychology of gamers etc. The film very broadly is a cat and mouse game depicted through cops and robbers under the overarching umbrella of gaming. The ability of the megastar to emerge unscathed without a blow from his opponents or even a speck of dust falling on him in all those fight sequences is praiseworthy. The loudest cheers, claps and whistles are when the megastar utters those mass dialogues for his fans. One such situation is when a character tells him that times have changed and his time is up. His response with a twinkle in his eyes is that this line has been uttered by many but it is their time which ran out and he continues to flourish. Another line is when a character quizzes the megastar about his role in the plot to which he answers - I've done all kinds of roles.

After the credits roll I leave the theatre with the feeling - I just wish he hadn't done this role.