Picture this scenario from sometime around the ’80s.
The Southern film industry – a glamorous world dominated by men who juggle between cinema and politics, like playing out double roles. Highly respected in all realms. Their presence alone demands everyone on sets to stand up with respect (sometimes fear).
One day, one such man – known in the south as the ‘Nadigar Thilagam’ and internationally as the first Indian to win “Best Actor” at an international film festival – walked into the sets of his new movie.
As the norm had it, everyone immediately rose from their seats. Except for one woman.
Not only did she continue being seated, but also had her leg folded across the other thigh. An act considered “rebellious, disrespectful” and whatnot.
When asked about why she was being disrespectful, she simply replied that her leg was placed on her thighs and not upon the nadigar Shivaji Ganesan.
Later on, some stories had it that the reason she did not stand up from her chair was because she was wearing a mini dress and did not want to expose herself to Shivaji in that flimsy costume.
Now, before you get fooled by the actress’ humour, let me tell you that it was none other than Silk Smitha who said it. An actress who embraced her sensuality like no other and mocked the lustful gaze of conservative men for years.
This story, from an Onam pathippu, was among my first introduction to this person who’s lovingly called “Silukkuuu”. It had my attention because the name “Silk Smitha” was almost always said in a hushed tone around kids. And like every other kid who does the exact opposite of what they are told to, I went to check out what this woman did to have her name whispered in the same breath as Voldemort.
Ahead of her birth anniversary (2nd December), I would like to revisit the very things that she did for the industry to become the much-celebrated yet one of the saddest legacies.
A Girl with Big Eyes and Bigger Dreams
Fast forward to today – I read more about the Shivaji incident and chanced upon a Filmfare interview from 1984.
Speaking to a reporter about the incident, she said,
“They have accused me of being disrespectful towards senior colleagues and artists like Sivaji Ganesan because I sit with my legs crossed in front of them. It is my habit to sit with my legs crossed when I am relaxing. I have been that way since childhood. Nobody had ever told me that was bad manners.”
That’s who Silk Smitha is in my eyes. A simple woman who lived life on her terms. Not as an act of rebellion but rather as a way of living she was familiar with. Despite all the glamour and big bucks, she was still the same old Vijayalakshmi who sat with her legs crossed when and where she pleased.
Silk’s story is something that’s all too familiar in the cinema world.
Born into poverty as Vijayalakshmi, she had to leave schooling in fourth grade to help her mother at home. Married off without consent to an abusive husband at the age of 14. And two years into the marriage, the bride runs away to Chennai in the hopes of a better life.
Even there, luck wasn’t much on her side for a while. With aspirations to become like the actress Savitri, she walked into the industry as a touch-up artist. It was then that film director Vinu Chakravarthy spotted her and immediately saw a place for the dusky beauty in the film industry. He took her under his wing and gave her performing and etiquette classes to pass off as an actor.
Which is quite funny, considering how she continued to hold on to her etiquette of sitting cross-legged no matter which bigshot walked into the sets.
Shot to Fame
In the year 1979, Smitha starred in her first Tamil film – Vandichakkaram and became an instant hit. Her character as the bar girl “Silk” stuck on, and rechristened her as “Silk Smitha.” But with it also came the typecast of the “bad” woman.
These “bad women ” were placed in the plot to seduce the hero as a precursor to him choosing the “good” woman who is family-loving, chaste, and lives solely to support her husband and the many children. Silk, on the other hand, was the homewrecker who shamelessly swayed her hips in revealing clothes.
The joke was on the filmmakers, though, because Silk played the role unapologetically and with an unmatched finesse. Absolutely nobody could beat her at her own game. There were times when even distributors refused to pick a movie unless there was a dance by Silk in it.
“Completed films remained in the cans while the producer and director waited for Silk to give dates for a dance number. And on some occasions, completed films that had been shelved quickly added a couple of Silk dances and went on to become silver jubilee hits.” – Film Writer KP Sunil
Such was the woman’s popularity.
A Dance Worth Millions
Silk wasn’t oblivious to the effect she had on men. Every time she appeared on screen, it felt as if she was mocking the audience with her sardonic smile and sensuality. These were the very men who would badmouth her on the streets for being ‘characterless’ but get excited cowardly in the darkness offered by the theatres. She dared them to face her body, and HOW!
But like every other industry, her talents were also exploited and limited to suggestive dances. Despite owning even the smallest of roles she had gotten, she was also confined to it in a way.
“My ambition in life is to become a good character actress.” – Silk Smitha (1984 Filmfare Interview)
There were very few filmmakers who looked above her neck or beyond the idea of being a “silky-skinned seductress”. It was her body that they wanted to monetize out of, and they did exactly that for over 350 films. (After all, in for a penny, in for the hypocritical male gaze) Except, of course, Bharathiraja and Balu Mahendra, who gave her movies like Alaigal Oyvathillai and Moonram Pirai.
The woman who wanted to step into acting like Savitri was handed over shining and dangling cabaret costumes by the rest. But for that single act of dance, she earned more than any leading heroines of her time. And why wouldn’t she? The movie’s box office success was mostly thanks to her, after all.
In three years, she appeared in over 200 movies. By 1992, she is said to have featured in at least 500 movies. And in another four years, the city woke up to the news of her death. Or, as writer Paul Zacharia calls it – a “violent death”.
With Fame Also Came the Horrors of It
Silk’s fame was something that surprised many in the industry. She wasn’t someone who fit within the conventional notions of beauty. Nor did she dance well like her counterparts, Jyothi Lakshmi and Jayamalini. Once, during an interview, actor Kamal Hassan mentioned how Silk couldn’t dance to save her life. He narrated how dance master Sundaram would incorporate dance moves that were doable by her, and she, being a “brilliant mimic”, would cut-copy-paste it the Silk way.
So, while on one hand, Silk did not have much of an acting talent, there was no competition against her when it came to “oozing eroticism”. Speaking about her mass appeal, film historian Theodore Bhaskaran once said, “Ensuring the male gaze is very important in Tamil cinema, and Silk brought loads of it.”
“If Smitha said, ‘Let’s go to the temple,’ it would sound erotic.” – Theodore Bhaskaran
That made all the difference that was needed to place her in a league entirely different from the rest. She was on the cover of all major Tamil publications, and stories about her guaranteed mass readership. With all the ‘bad woman’, ‘sex bomb’, and ‘soft-porn queen’ branding, there were industries that cashed in by releasing Smitha perfumes, accessories, and even lingerie. She was a sure-cut sell-out, and everyone, including her, knew that.
An article from India Today’s 1980’s archives reported this aptly by saying that each time Silk appeared on the big screens, the wolf-whistles and foot-stomping would be heard all the way to Kodambakkam city. And that’s exactly how the men behaved every time they got a chance to meet Silk in person.
A mob almost stripped her naked when she was spotted on the streets. For them, her body was the story they paid to watch.
In the years to come, she also pondered about how she was a body and nothing beyond that for the millions of eyes ogling at her. That is probably also why the only complaint she voiced to a Filmfare reporter was,
“It’s been ages since I wore a sari.”
Malayalam Cinema’s Silk
Before she found her success in Tamil cinema, Silk had appeared in around 7 Malayalam movies. But it didn’t particularly leave a mark.
By 1978, Malayalam cinema welcomed ‘Avalude Raavukal’ and actress Seema, who was an extra in movies until then. The plot followed the struggles of a young sex worker from the slums and was celebrated as the ‘Mother of all South Indian Soft-Sex films”. It was after the success of Avalude Raavukal, that another aspiring filmmaker – Antony Eastman, ventured into exploring the social narrative surrounding sex workers.
Three years later, Eastman released “Inaye Thedi”, with Silk Smitha playing the lead as a sex worker. The lead role was initially sketched for actress Shobha but had to be replaced with Silk after Shobha committed suicide.
The life of heroines did come with dark humour at the time.
The movie failed to charm the audience like Avalude Raavukal and was declared a flop a day after its release. Five years later, though, it was re-released as “Silk by Nights” with an additional set of nude scenes. Something they had plenty of because “Smitha had no reservations about nude scenes,” and would strip in front of the entire unit without batting an eye, as Eastman remembers. The two additional nude scenes and a changed title with Silk Smitha’s name in it did the trick. The movie went on to become a smash hit this time.
The Laila who stole Aaduthoma’s spotlight
Her fame surpassed even the leading actors of the time. Around the 80’s-90’s, South Indian cinema was ruled by Mohanlal. His position in the limelight was indisputable by all except for, of course, by the one woman. In 1995, the cult classic Spadikam made its way to the theatres. But this time, it was not just Mohanlal’s name that was being chanted in the theatres. The moment Silk appeared to dance to ‘Ezhimala Poonchola’, the audience was hollering “Silkey ! Silkey!”.
It was not just the movie that had won the cult classic status, but also the one song that featured Silk and Lalettan. I guess it would be safe to say that in just that one portion, Aadu Thoma was overshadowed by Laila.
Even as a kid, I was familiar with Ezhimala Poonchola before I got a chance to watch Spadikam. And even today, I would go around imitating “maarane kanda mayilenna theykyum”, with the slight difference that I now understand what the lyrics mean.
The Final Note
Even today, there are plenty of scandalous stories with questionable sources about Silk Smitha on social media platforms. Back then and today as well, when the topic of Silk Smitha comes up, a pinch of sensationalism tags along naturally. Earlier, if it was about her sitting cross-legged in front of Shivaji, today it’s about the mysterious reasons behind her death and how even her dead body was exploited. And I’m sure, just like back then, she would’ve absolutely hated how yellow journalism kept invading her peace. Not leaving her to rest in peace even after her last dance with death.
While looking for the right words to wrap up this article about Silk, I came across her final note (which is everywhere, and I’m not sure how I feel about that). Rather uncomfortably, I read through it, and all I could think of was, “She was a simple woman. With simple desires.”
To be loved for who she is. And not just her body.
Despite being exploited over and over, she continued to wish well for all.
And that even with the wish to fulfil her many desires, she found it rather exhausting and disturbing to continue living.
Such was the world around the unapologetic “Queen of Sensuality” Silk Smitha. At this point, it doesn’t even feel right to call her by that name.
I keep wondering if, at some point, all she might have wanted was to go back to being the small-town girl Vijayalakshmi. We’ll never know, though, because nobody cared enough to find out.
