Sinhala cinema finally tastes right

Vadey keeping Ghee idli company 

Sometimes I’m genuinely amazed by people’s talent.

We were recently at Sri Vani Vilas, and I ordered something I had never ordered before – idli with ghee and sambar. Such a common dish, yet the taste was so divine that I felt like crying. God bless the hands and the brain that came up with it. A simple idea, elevated by care and skill.

Experiences like this are rare.

Just last weekend, I felt the same quiet euphoria again. This time it wasn’t food. It came from a movie experience, the new Sinhala film 'Father.' Every actor did their part so well. Sinhala cinema, especially in recent years, continues to surprise me with its talent, both new and old. Sometimes I honestly can’t believe how far it has come compared to the films made a decade ago.

I think after 'Punchi Suranganawi', I gave up on Sinhala cinema altogether. During my childhood, if a Sinhala film came on television, it was an automatic channel change. From the 90s until very recently, it felt like a terrible period for Sinhala cinema. Not because actors lacked ability, but because something fundamental was missing. Something I still can’t fully explain. Soon after, Sinhala teledramas followed the same path, and I gave up on Sinhala visual storytelling entirely.

Coming from the family background I do, there was always praise for old Sinhala movies. But if I’m being honest, I didn’t find most of them entertaining, except for one or two. The only reason my taste for movies and TV didn’t die completely was the internet and learning how to download torrents.

Watching English and foreign-language films showed me that there was more to cinema than just storytelling. Maybe age played a role too. Still, I believe the Sinhala entertainment industry was a big flop while I was growing up.

Over time, I lost interest in Hindi cinema too. Eventually, Tamil cinema began to feel more grounded. Telugu and Malayalam films opened an entirely new door. Looking back, ‘Premam’ feels like a turning point for me. It was the first time I experienced life being captured so gently, so close to the heart. It was also the first Malayalam movie I remember being telecast on local TV, and many great films followed.

The first time I experienced that “divine ghee idli” feeling in the cinema was when I started watching Dhanush’s films. Every time, I’m amazed by how talented he is – playing different roles, different ages, sometimes all within the same movie. Add to that a beautiful voice and incredible dancing. How is it even possible?

That’s not to say the Sinhala industry didn’t have good actors. I think this era I'm talking about simply failed to make proper use of them. Moments of brilliance were rare. Dramas felt hollow, the humour unsettled me, and I don’t even want to start talking about action movies.

But now, something has changed.

Last year alone, we had real reasons to go to the cinema multiple times to watch Sinhala films. Every new movie surprised us. I personally believe Priyantha Sirikumara was last year’s star. Watching him across television, cinema, and theatre was a privilege. That same ‘ghee-idli' feeling comes back when I think of his performances.

The quality of Sinhala films has improved so much that, as a Sri Lankan, I feel more. I think more. Most importantly, I feel closer to these stories than I ever do with foreign-language films. Even the kunuharupa seems to have regained its dignity in the right hands.

This is just one example. Hemal, one of my favourites, was very good in Maria. It was a different way of seeing him, and perhaps the first time his potential was properly used. I remember disliking Dilhani Asokamala in the 90s and 2000s, especially because of the comedy roles she played. Seeing her talent now, on television and in the cinema, is genuinely surprising. She has become one of the iconic actresses of our time. The same can be said for Mahendra Perera and Sarath Kotalawala, among many others.

All these thoughts came together after watching ‘Father.’ I couldn’t find a fault with any of the acting. Every performance felt careful, controlled, and sincere. The story and direction were excellent too. Perhaps this is why the actors’ talents came through so clearly.

My only discomfort was that the film depicts real events from a time before I was born. I’m still unsure how I feel about films based on real stories, because I worry they might be taken as documented history. But that’s a different discussion.

What matters is this: something good has happened to Sinhala cinema.

As someone who tries to find meaning in life through screens and words, I’m deeply grateful to the people who are thinking differently now, who are planning art with care and intention. Sitting in the audience, I feel like my taste is respected. These films don’t just entertain. They make life feel richer.

And every now and then, like a ghee-soaked idli with sambar, they remind me how rare and beautiful true talent really is.