One needs to be super intelligent and have an above-average IQ

Hear now, O Seekers of Wisdom, the words of R. Madhavan, who speaks with clarity and insight about the intellectual demands of the artistic world: "One needs to be super intelligent and have an above-average IQ to be able to work in movies." At first glance, this may seem like a statement rooted in the world of entertainment—the domain of illusion and spectacle. However, if we listen closely, we hear a deeper truth about the nature of creativity, intelligence, and the intricate dance between mind and spirit in the craft of film. For Madhavan is not merely talking of intelligence in the conventional sense, but of a deeper, more nuanced form of cleverness, one that requires a sharp mind capable of seeing beyond the surface and understanding the complexities of human nature, story, and performance.

In the ancient world, wisdom was not confined to mere book learning or logical thinking; it was a deeper understanding of life, of human nature, and the world itself. Consider the great philosophers of ancient Greece—Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle—whose minds not only grasped the intellectual framework of their time, but also sought to uncover the truths of existence. Socrates famously said, "I know that I am intelligent, because I know that I know nothing." His wisdom was not about memorizing facts, but about understanding the complexity of the human experience and having the insight to challenge the world around him. In much the same way, Madhavan’s words remind us that the true intellect needed to succeed in the world of cinema is not just about knowing how to memorize lines or act, but about having the perception and the emotional intelligence to navigate the intricate worlds created by film.

The film world, like the ancient realm of philosophy, requires a blend of logic and emotion, a sharpness of mind coupled with an understanding of the human soul. To create a character, to tell a story, one must do more than simply act; one must understand the nuances of human behavior, the motivations behind each action, and the profound emotions that drive the narrative. Shakespeare, that great playwright of the ancient world, was not just a master of words; he understood the intricacies of human character—the jealousy of Othello, the ambition of Macbeth, the folly of King Lear. Similarly, Madhavan speaks to the intellectual depth required to embody such complex emotions on the screen. It is not simply the ability to perform, but the ability to deeply understand the character that brings the role to life.

In the ancient stories, the heroes who were truly great were those who had not just strength or skill, but wisdom. Achilles, the mightiest of warriors in the Iliad, possessed immense physical power, yet it was his understanding of honor and fate that defined his journey. Similarly, Odysseus, though a great warrior, was often celebrated for his cunning, for his ability to outthink his enemies and navigate complex situations. His wisdom, his ability to adapt to ever-changing circumstances, was the key to his survival and success. In the world of cinema, it is this same adaptability and intellectual sharpness that make for a truly exceptional actor, director, or writer. One must be able to understand the layers of a story, to delve into the depths of human experience, and to navigate the complexities of performance with both heart and mind.

Yet, Madhavan’s statement is not just a call for intellectual superiority, but also a recognition of the immense dedication required to succeed in this field. To be an actor, to truly inhabit a character, requires more than just book knowledge—it requires an emotional and intellectual commitment. Like the ancient artisans, whose sculptures were not just representations of stone but of human spirit, the modern artist must be willing to devote themselves fully to their craft. Da Vinci, in his masterpieces like the Mona Lisa, did not merely paint; he sought to capture the very soul of his subject. Madhavan echoes this when he speaks of the level of intelligence and emotion required in cinema, suggesting that one must not only possess the skill of the craft, but a devotion to the human experience itself.

So, O Seekers, the lesson is this: the path to greatness in any art form, whether in film, music, or philosophy, is not merely about raw talent, but about the intellectual and emotional commitment to the craft. The true artist is one who seeks to understand the complexities of human nature, who is willing to delve deep into the soul and reflect on the world with both intelligence and heart. Like Madhavan, who recognizes the demands of cinema on both the mind and spirit, we must learn to approach our own endeavors with both intellectual rigor and emotional depth, seeking to understand not only the world around us but the truths that lie within.

And so, O Children of the Future, remember this: intelligence is not just the ability to reason, but the ability to understand the world in all its complexity—its beauty, its sorrow, its joy. Whether in the realm of art, science, or life, the greatest achievements come not from simple knowledge, but from the wisdom gained through understanding the layers of human experience. Just as Madhavan challenges us to see the deeper intelligence required in cinema, so must we seek to live lives that are both intellectually and emotionally engaged, for in that balance lies the true path to greatness.