In memoriam | Actor Sathyendra (1960-2026): The man we saw everywhere but nobody knew

CHENNAI: If you were a regular at the city’s arts, film, theatre and literary scene or have attended premier events such as Kerala’s IFFK, ITFoK, the Kochi-Muziris Biennale, and Goa’s IFFI across the past few decades, you would have definitely encountered a slightly restless white-haired and bearded man in a loose kurta/shirt carrying a ‘jholna pai’, smiling awkwardly with his yellowish teeth, trying to get your attention with his big eyes, or perhaps, not giving much eye contact at all. But it was after the play or the film screening or panel discussion, when the floor would be opened to questions, that he would be in his element: popping his trademark ‘first finger in the air’ to ask brash, blunt, unique questions to the panelists.

That man was Sathyendra, an actor (over 50 films), film critic, director, and a French and German language interpreter. People used to chat with him endlessly about films, feminism, film theory, theatre, everything under the sun, grab a cuppa with him at his adda outside Prasad Digital Lab in Saligramam, share a meal, sometimes offer him a ride, and then proceed our respective ways, forgetting him, before meeting him again at the next event.

Sathyendra was everywhere. Yet many who bumped into him at such gatherings every few months, sometimes even 2-3 times on the same day at multiple events, including this writer, were always left wondering about him. How was he this indefatigable? Where was he from? We knew he lived alone. Where did he live? Did he have any family?

When the unexpected news of his demise due to ill health broke on Thursday, a week before his 66th birthday (June 6), feverish attempts to locate his relatives followed, while his mortal remains lay at the Rajiv Gandhi Government General Hospital mortuary. Several tweets were posted, actors, PROs, politicians intervened, and finally, his kin was traced and the body was handed over. The funeral was held in Anna Nagar on Saturday evening, where actors like Nasser and Pasupathy spoke about him.

I first met Sathyendra at a talk by a feminist playwright over a decade ago. As usual, he asked the first question, one that was weird and random, but which she nevertheless tried to answer politely. However, he was not done. He continued speaking into the mic about feminism, body politics, and much more. I would go on to see him at many more events over the next few years, asking questions that revealed his wealth of knowledge and, at times, arguing his point, even when it seemed incomprehensible. Often, volunteers would hesitate to give him the microphone, while others who knew who he was would welcome him warmly. At a screening at filmmaker-cinematographer Rajiv Menon's Mindscreen Film Institute, Charles Britto recalls, Sathyendra was warmly introduced as a friend.

Sathyendra: A man of many parts

Beyond his audacious, relentless patron-of-the-arts persona, Sathyendra was a man who deeply desired connection, as was evident in how he would keep looking at you, eager for a conversation, and would, more often than not, be surrounded by admiring youngsters. “People who saw him or interacted as a public person at events only saw his ubiquitous presence, raw interest for art, people, interactions. At times many saw him as an uncouth, ill-kempt failed artist. Rarely did they see a heartful person craving affection and recognition,” says Krishna Kumar (KK), Artistic Director, Masquerade Chennai, who worked with him in English and German plays across a 40-year association. “Sathyendra was living a lonely, nomadic life for 40 years, on his own terms but he needed people around him.”

But he never sought anyone’s pity or empathy. “There would not be much money in his pockets… he just needed a place to sleep, money for his travel, and to eat. He lived his life as he wished… possessing just a love for cinema,” says Vijayaraj, a photographer. “He survived literally like the birds, day-to-day,” concurred National award-winning filmmaker and cinematographer RV Ramani, comparing Sathyendra's lifestyle to that of acclaimed Malayalam filmmaker John Abraham, who, too, lived from day to day, relying on friends, colleagues, and common people. Sathyendra appears briefly in Ramani’s 'Blue Black Yellow’ (1995), and a few unfinished projects. “He lived along, needling our conscience about existence and art, be it cinema, theatre, or other art… He put the responsibility of his living on others, all of us as co-travellers and he lived his life,” Ramani said in a Facebook post.

When asked how he was managing financially, he would put on a brave face, saying he earned a living by taking French and German tuition classes and had many students, says veteran director K Hariharan, whose Chennai Film Society discussions he regularly attended. “Sathyendra would not mind not getting a reply. He just wanted to ask his questions. And when told we would answer him later, as a means of avoiding his questions sometimes, he would accept quietly. He had that childlike quality… one who looked fierce but just innocently desired attention.”

'Proud to play a dead body in a way nobody has before'

Born into a Telugu family living in Bengaluru, Sathyendra had a Masters in Kannada literature and many diplomas in foreign languages including Japanese. After a stint in theatre, including working with playwright Girish Karnad, he made his Tamil cinema debut in the National Award-winning ‘Ezhavathu Manithan’ (1982), directed by Hariharan, who created the character ‘Loosu Michael’, roommate to actor Raghuvaran, for him in the film. As he was argumentative and liked to be a contrarian, the auteur featured him in a protest sequence: workers agitating at a cement factory, as Subramania Bharati’s ‘Achamillai Achamillai’ song plays in the background, a ‘madman’ running across the factory roof, shouting and laughing raucously with the others, waving flags bearing Lenin, Marx images. “I made Satya play that ‘madman’, with singer SP Balasubrahmanyam voicing the laughter,” Hariharan narrates.

Sathyendra played a corpse in two films, both National Film Award winners: B Lenin’s ‘Knock-Out’ (1992, Tamil), and ‘Grahana’ by TS Nagabharana (1978, Kannada), where he played a Dalit man who dies after being subjected to an intense purification ritual, a literal ‘trial by fire’ after being chosen to be Brahmins, for two weeks only. He was proud to play a dead body in a way nobody has ever before, he used to say. Speaking to YouTube channel Film Patients in 2020, he said, “Any trash role they give it to me, I convert it into gold.” His mainstream filmography included Kamal Haasan-starrer ‘Sathya’ (1988), Sathyaraj’s ‘Kadamai Kanniyam Kattupaadu’ (1987), and director Bharathiraja’s ‘Mann Vasanai’ (1983), among others, where online credits list him in roles such as a pickpocket, a beggar, and a ballad singer.

Sathyendra said he continued to stay alive to meet his fans, those who appreciate his work. “I've had tea with 20 lakh people. I am the luckiest person. I am ready to not have a flat or vehicle and eat in an Amma Unavagam,” he said in the YouTube interview. Describing the rich life experiences that informed his acting, Sathyendra said he had even survived a few suicide attempts, which he considers part of those experiences.

In recent years, Sathyendra had gone viral for a clip of his criticism of the 2023 Vijay-Lokesh Kanagaraj film 'Leo' outside a theatre. That brought new followers to his YouTube channel, Sathyendra Film Critic, where he shared his views on the latest releases, even when they were unpopular. Yet, he always appreciated whatever worked in a film, including commercial masala entertainers. He was not usually an elitist critic in these video reviews, which is yet another contradiction in a man with such extensive film knowledge and experience. His latest video, posted last week, was a review of RJ Balaji-Suriya's 'Karuppu', which he did not like. In it, he said he wished Suriya would work with directors such as Varsha Bharath or Pa Ranjith.

People who bumped into him in recent weeks said he appeared low and worn-out. KK, who met him around six weeks ago at Alliance Francaise says, “He had lost much weight, much energy, looked a bit defeated. The fervent smile in his eyes when he recognised someone he knew he met was still there.”

An enigma and an open book, cocky but also kind, shy and also energetic, Sathyendra was a man who refused to be fit into a box. The memories so many, many of us have of him is testament to his spirit of inquisitiveness.

Rest in peace, Sir.