and mythic characters in a highly melodramatic register that reflected both his origins on the stage as well as the rudimentary approach to storytelling in the 1950s. In Andha Naal, he reins in his bombast and delivers a compelling performance as an unlikable anti-hero.

Several films in the ’50s, drawing from theatre, depended on rich oratory, strongly etched characters and melodramatic plots, resulting in static tableaus in which the camera barely moved. Few of these productions are remembered today for their technical prowess, and Andha Naal remains a notable exception.

In Balachander’s movie, the filmmaking is at the service of the story – an approach that is rare even in our multi-hued present. Even though Rao barely moves his camera, resorting to zooms and tracking shots only in the climax,he overcomes the limits of frontality by playing with lighting and close-ups. Except for a few sequences shot in the open, most of Andha Naal takes places entirely indoors, in a hothouse of mutual suspicion and doubt. Rather than being restricted by the location, Balachander and Rao transcend the chamber room drama quality of the scenes to create a thriller that deservedly has a reputation as one of the few successful noirs in Indian cinema.