Real Wijeweera and actor Kamal Addaraarachchi playing the rebel
By Somasiri Munasinghe
Several questions came to my mind while watching Sinhala film Ginnen Upan Seethala (Frozen Fire), a well-directed biopic about rebel leader Rohana Wijeweera, who almost single-handedly, changed the path of Sri Lankan politics,
What if Rohana was not married? What if former president J.R. Jayewardene did not ban the JVP (Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna) on dubious grounds? What if the JVP succeeded in attacking Jayewardene’s meeting as planned? But history, as we always taken for granted, is not written in ‘ifs’.
The film deals with one of the most painful chapters of Sri Lanka’s modern history, reminding us within a short time of two and half hours, what chaos people of my generation had to endure since 1971.
The film which is based on the last decade of the rebel leader’s life after his release from jail, deciding to take a saner path of parliamentary politics. Sri Lankan politics lost its innocence after 1971 insurrection led by him, triggering off a bloodbath of unimaginable proportions, replacing policemen’s batons with automatic fire power. The rebels, undaunted by government bloody crackdown, resorted to equally ferocious methods of violence and killings.
Wijeweera, tempered in a new brand of socialist politics, rocked the boat in 1971, threatening the survival of the capitalist parties and traditional leftists alike. Security forces’ backlash was free-for-all with thousands of innocent people sacrificing their lives for daring to demand social justice and equal opportunities. The film is set against the backdrop of this mayhem.
Wijeweera was a rebel with many causes. On one side he was trying enter mainstream politics abandoning violence to achieve that end. On the other side, he was a soft-hearted family man willing to set aside time for his adoring children and his ever-pregnant wife at the risk of neglecting his party duties, also becoming an easy prey to marauding armed forces.
The rebel who was fond of sporting the iconic beret of his hero Che Guevara, and a thick beard – his men were also called Che Guevarists in the early days – gave up violent politics laying a foundation to be the third force or an alternative to the two main political parties which called the shots in politics after independence. In fact, he contested presidential polls and came third earning around one third of votes he hoped for. Things began to sour as his party was proscribed after 1983 riots, forcing him to go underground.
Anuruddha Jayasinghe, who was a JVP activist in his student days, has directed the biopic without falling a victim to his party politics or emotions, displaying discipline and mastery over the craft. With four films in 11 years to his credit, he brings to the silver screen the complex history of the controversial politician who is loved and hated in equal measure.
Based on two and half years of research the movie is capable of holding the audience interest without straining into melodrama or bathos considering that at the heart of the movie is the tragic tale of a family with a brood of adoring children.
The movie is trying to portray the human side of the man who is forced to change houses with his growing family frequently, to evade capture, always preferring to choose residences in the hill country with expansive view of the surroundings for extra security.
Kamal Addaraarachchi who does not resemble the JVP leader comes close with lot of makeup and prosthesis and does justice to the main character reliving the decisive tragic phase of Wijeweera’s life.
It is Sulochana Weerasinghe, a new comer to cinema, who steals the show as the JVP leader’s aloof, tormented wife Chithranganie, forced into a marriage of convenience by her brother against her will. She was offered the role for her surprising resemblance to Mrs. Wijeweera and she told the media that she was unable to meet the rebel leader’s wife despite many attempts. She has met many people close to Chitraganie and modelled her character according to the facts gleaned from them.
The director has used actors who resemble the members of the JVP politburo and the comrades close to the leader and all of them contribute to the massive success of the film.
Art direction is superb resurrecting the feel of the 70s and 80s with props and battered motor vehicles of the era, in addition to hundreds of extras capable of taking us back in time with nostalgia. Cinematography is excellent capturing the haunting beauty of the hill country and its British-era residences and dimly-lit interiors of torture chambers, and safe houses where the JVP politburo held their clandestine meetings. The film has been shot in actual locations where Wijeweera’s family lived while on the run.
The mayhem staged by both the rebels and the security forces during the ‘reign of terror’ of the late 80s is present in fleeting glimpses of gloomy torture camps with suspects being given the ‘water treatment’ and one with nails being driven into the skull.
The film stops short of rebel leader’s gruesome death. According to unconfirmed reports of an eye witness, Wijeweera was thrown alive into the incinerator of the Colombo Cemetery’s a few hours after his capture.
I think the climax of the film when the army officer arrests Wijeweera should have been provided with little more drama leading to the capture. The officer asks Wijeweera’s wife to leave the house with her kids immediately. Some people may know the implication of this scene.
Police top brass Premadasa Udugampola, who had a score to settle with the JVP leader after some members of his family were massacred by the activists, was operating from Kandy at the time and obviously the kind-hearted soldier would have instinctively known what would happen when Udugampola got the wind of Wijeweera’s capture.
According to press reports the senior police officer had, in fact, visited the house the same night! If Wijeweera’s family decided to spend the day in the same house, the end of this film could have been quite different. – newstrails.com
