Kathakali is, like so much of Kerala's rich history and environment – colourful and intense. It's a complex pantomime, where the actors, through a highly sophisticated use of facial and body movements, act out a play without uttering a single line of dialogue. Vocalists sing the script of the play backstage to the accompaniment of rhythmic percussion.

We watched a Kathakali performance in Kochi in a room populated exclusively by white people. It would have been easy to conclude that Kathakali was a relic preserved exclusively for tourist consumption, but we gathered later that this was not the case. Upon arrival, we noticed a sign detailing how the, troupe were having to relocate and how donations would be well received during this period. The sign was written in German and English. It surprised us that it was not written in Malayalam anywhere. That there was not a single Indian face in the crowd was equally surprising. We figured out later that we were watching a script less, watered down version for tourists! Perhaps the signs too were only meant for us tourists!

Kathakali is considered to be one of the oldest surviving theatre forms in the world. It is considered to be a combination of five fine art forms – literature, painting, dancing, singing and acting. Although the performances have traditionally been based on the two Hindu epics, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, its international popularity has led to even adaptation of Shakespearean classics. In 1999, Kathakali King Lear was presented at the Globe Theatre in London.

There is an elaborate make-up code in Kathakali where the make up indicates nature of the character. Virtuous, noble men are characterised by predominantly green face paint whereas evil kings could have green paint with slashes of red marks. Excessively cruel men would have a predominantly red make-up (sometimes with a flowing red beard!) Men also perform the roles of women and they would usually have yellow faces (as would sages!). The dancers wear heavy head dresses and dresses. Kathakali has an intricate set of gestures through which the performer could convey whole sentences and stories. The body movements and footwork required of a performer are complex and require years of practice. The training can stretch for up to ten years and the flexibility is rumoured to be achieved through long periods of massage.

Like with many other art forms of Kerala , percussion is a dominant part of the orchestra. The songs that detail the story of the play is peculiar and highly expressive. A traditional Kathakali performance in Kerala apparently begins late in the evening and continues throughout the night. It ends at dawn when good conquers evil! We were lucky to watch a shorter, McDonald's version of it!
The show began with the men doing their own make-up. The make up process took just over an hour, and the transformations were remarkable. For the main villain of the piece, the queen's brother, a cardboard prop was employed to create a protruding white jaw line. This contrasted with the deep green and red streaks on his face. The made up eyes resembled the oft seen eyes of Hindu gods in murals. Rich, elegant, dark lines that ride a thin line between the masculine and the feminine, but that set off a regal and noble air, and accentuates and animates the eyes.

Our play opened with a brief history of the art form. We were walked through the materials used to make the face paint, followed by a breakdown of some of the meanings of the hand gestures and facial expressions. The face was contorted and flexed to convey varying emotions - it rippled and trembled with fear or love. Though after we were briefed on some of the bodily translations of many words, you realise that to match every dictionary word to a hand movement or short dance, must take ages to learn, let alone string together to make a sentence. The play kicks off with the queen's brother trying his luck with a lady courtier, who is far from impressed with his advances. She then runs off to tell her husband of his brutish behaviour, and together they hatch a plot to see him off. They set up a meeting for the courtier with the queen's bother in an empty dance hall. The husband sees his rival's advances and kills him off to restore equilibrium. Or at least, that is what we gathered!!

Even this abridged version was too long for casual viewers like us! In fact from what I could gather, information that could be conveyed in a line of two of dialogue, took ten minutes. I understood it, but got a bit lost each time they retrace the same steps. I don't know if this was due to my short, television rotted attention span or what, but I drifted off more than once, and began analysing the construction of the crowd. Kathakali indeed requires staggering concentration and perhaps as many years of training as a viewer as an actor does! Our dreams of becoming Kathakali connoisseurs might have to wait a while longer.

Stevie and Robin