Credit: Special Arrangement
In the opening shot of The Hunt for Veerappan, Muthulakshmi, Veerappan's wife, coolly tells viewers that her husband was a man who could give up his life for those he trusted, and just as easily kill those who betrayed him. Then, she grins.
Grief, though, still lives in the folds of her eyes, which only light up when she talks about his confident stride, his luxuriant moustache and his Robin Hood-style proposal. (‘If you don't marry me, I will turn my heart into stone and never look at another girl,’ he apparently told the 16-year-old Muthulakshmi).
For those of us who have followed Veerappan's rise and rise and inevitable fall, this gruesome tale is neither new nor shocking. The so-called revelations — the ransom Karnataka allegedly paid him for Rajkumar's release, his links with LTTE sympathisers, or the atrocities purportedly committed by the STF — have been open secrets for long. That said, this is a gripping-enough watch, especially for those who are not familiar with the brigand's tale. The real-life shots, excerpts from the infamous Veerappan tapes, and candid interviews add much heft to what is already a sensational story.
But remember, this is a documentary on a merciless killer of humans and animals. After bingeing on the four-part series, however, what stuck with me was not the loot, the incessant violence and the bloodshed — though there was enough and more of that — but the love between a tragically smitten woman and her ‘attractive’ (her word) poacher-husband.
This says a lot about the moral dilemmas of the film makers, who half-glorify a gangster and also show his numerous crimes for what they were — cold-blooded and ruthless. And, by raising questions in the final episode about how Veerappan was "betrayed" by the STF and whether this was a "brave way to kill him", one wonders if they are making it clear where their sympathies lie.