Harish Film views

Vikram: An adequate film that could have aimed for greatness

2022-07-16T18:20:00.008+05:30

Director; Lokesh Kanagaraj

No movie is perfect when looked through a magnifying lens. As we sit in front of the screen, the mind fights with the film-maker to avoid suspending disbelief. The struggle settles the minute when there is something interesting/ unseen/ or fresh on the silver screen. With the audience in a trance, the filmmaker only has to keep supplying those 'spikes' at regular intervals.

Did this happen to me while watching Vikram? Unfortunately, no. It was an inconsistent film, IMO, that kept on breaking the invisible connection between my eyes and the screen. The film begins on a high with the signature step of Kamal. After the dishonest Vishwaroopam-2, it was gratifying to see Kamal enjoying on screen. When the film went into investigative mode, I sat up at the ingenious way the generic investigative procedural was flipped on its head as the past & present walked together. Soon enough the film shifted gear to an action thriller, which is when I started losing the connection to the screen.

The first action set-piece was a shootout between Amar [Fahad] & Masked gang followed by a chase. What was supposed to be a slugfest between the opposing party, ended as - who can shoot the maximum blanks without harming each other. The chase that ensued had one team in bikes and another in a minivan. But before anything interesting could happen on screen, one member of the masked gang got retired hurt. A few generic conversations later, it was time for another confrontation/ chase sequence at a wedding reception.

Before I get into the sequence, I would like to digress on the larger theme of 'ghost' & 'agents working in shadows' that the film was building up until this point. As a masked man threw a smoke can on the floor, I thought to myself, we have had enough 'tell', now it is time for the 'show'. I thought this was the moment that the ghost will swoop through the swarm of rowdies and before anyone could realise, disappear into the thin air, taking the award price with him.

On the contrary, the 'show' that was planned for us is a Ghilli style - I have a knife on your valuable asset, so you have to sing to my tune. It's been two decades since we were exposed to that trick; the minimum expectation I have is that there should be some tweak to make it palatable. Instead, we have a local 'Pablo Escobar' who is aiming to capture 2 lakh crore of assets, and his only defence against 4 masked men are a dozen sets of knives that never get used and a blank face when the masked man drives past a gazillion of his men. The setting changes to another location, where again one guy is corned on all sides by rowdies & police but don't harm him. I am not questioning the logic; a hero becomes a mass hero only when he comes out of such impossible situations. However, like regular Tamil villains, each one of the assailants gets flung by the hero's punch. Fortunately though, after unmasking, visually the fight choreography was stunning. Still, the 'ghost vanishing in thin air' theme could have been employed visually to show how he escaped everyone. But then, this is not that kind of film and Lokesh is not that kind of filmmaker.

The exciting 'face reveal' moment was short-lived thanks to another generic fight/ jailbreak scene. Worldover, jailbreak sequences usually are about outsmarting the police or showing the brute force of the attackers. Lokesh opts for the latter. There was an interesting idea about the punch power measurement using an apple watch. But it wasn't fleshed out properly to show the brute force of Vikram [kamal]. Instead in regular Tamil film style, policemen form a queue to be flung by the hero. There was a half-hearted attempt to bring guns into the mix, but visually that too wasn't interesting or challenging for the Vikram team. The sequence also had a dark humour/ irreverence layer, by lacing an iconic [& underrated] masala song over the fight scene. While the idea sounds great on paper, it didn't match up to the heft of the 'Jumbalaka' song sequence in Kaithi [Lokesh's previous venture]. In the latter, the song had a purpose in the story, while here it is to show that Vikram is having some fun while going into a battle. Nothing wrong with that. But when the cake [fight] is not tasty, the icing [song] doesn't make much of a difference.

There was another chance to make the dark humour work through the 'Kalviya Selvama veerama' song sequence. But honestly, I couldn't grasp the play; neither the lyrics nor the song situation in the original movie, lend weight to the scene here. Nevertheless, it was still effective in adding a new dimension to the scene to make it a gripping sequence. This positive momentum then kept on building and reached its crescendo during the 'Tina' sequence. This was probably the best sequence in the whole film for me. The beauty of this sequence is not just in the present, but in how the film laid a lot of breadcrumbs from the beginning.

With that high, I felt a sigh of relief hoping the last stretch of the film will either be gripping or be a mad blood-soaked adrenaline rush; but the silent fight sequence dashed that hope. In fairness, the fight was adequate as like the other fights. But it didn't raise above the normal hand-to-hand combat fight that we see in every other movie. This is where I would like to digress to the overarching problem I have with the film. The fight sequence, IMO, didn't have the zing to differentiate it from any other star vehicle we see on the screen. How would it have been if each action block of Vikram establishes one facet of the notorious spy; one on his intelligence; one on his gargantuan strength; one on his tech savviness, etc. That would have been layer after layer of surprise for both the villains and the audience. Anyway, that is just my expectations. 8 crore people seem to be happy with different variations of the same hand-to-hand combat and uninspiring gun fights till now.

While I can come to terms with that difference in opinion, I am still not able to digest the play around the child. It was as if the writer has decided that the climax sequence should have a child surrounded by guns. Nothing wrong with that vision. But the hackneyed way it was arrived at was very bizarre. As I was watching the film, I was wondering why not use Tina's eyes to open the panic room; or if you want to be a U/A film without disturbing imagery, why not make her stand up and place the child in the panic room with his mother? This is yet another instance where I got separated from the film.

And the climax. OMG. Let's take a step back and rewind the film in our minds. The villain is the Indian Pablo Escobar who is aiming to be worth 2 lakh crore. The opposite side is the country's notorious spy with a team of 5 and their biggest advantage has been the usage of guns in all their encounters. The villain is also aware that the tracker is switched on to trap them. So, what is the genius plan of the villain? Bring knives to this fight. I guess among 8 crore people, I am the only one not buying this. After losing all but one family member, the villain soon realises his mistake and comes loaded with a tonne of guns. So, what was his motive & character arc again in the film?

Coming back to the climax, aside from the messy child episode, the M2 browning machine sequence was whistle-worthy on paper. Yes, on paper the scene is about the larger-than-life power of this ghost who has moved mountains a million times to make a mission work; in this case making the automatic switch work through his grit. But visually, the cue wasn't like how Baahubali single-handedly lifted the statue. An unarmed man walking in slow motion to the centre field of a gunfight; the automatic switch getting activated not when the machine was being dragged but only after it stood still diluted the visual and in turn Vikram's parakramam [gallantry]. Again, a competent scene that is one step short of meeting its great potential. But immediately after this, the film drops to stupidity level 10. Out of nowhere, Amar brings back the child into the battlefield that will be blown to smithereens any minute now. I hope India's premier spy agency doesn't function as how this film portrays them. If this was about the innate India masala/ commercial cinema treatment, why not go all out and have a play around the punch measuring watch? Why not show from the beginning that Vikram was underachieving his potential and this child was the key trigger to surpassing that physical limitation?

When I look back at the film as a whole, what made this a lesser film for me compared to the excellent Kaithi & great in parts Master, was that those films had a world in which amateurs/ outsiders can enter the world of small-timers & overpower them with brains & brawns. But the world of Vikram, as alleged in the film, is mammoth. Knives-wielding rowdies and 'let's wing it' spies can't claim to be the best of the best in their profession. The imagination needed more scale. Hopefully, Rolex & Vikram 3 don't fall into the same category.

Why did you dial her, Karthik? - Karthik Dial Seytha Yenn

2020-05-24T16:02:00.013+05:30

Director: Gautham Vasudev Menon

It all starts with Karthik struggling with writer's block. As his mind longs for Jessi's presence, his hand dials her number, hoping she would bring him out of this abyss. What should have followed is an epilogue to the original film or a prelude to a sequel. However, what I saw was a procedural event. To begin with, the writer's block was treated at surface level without any heft. Just because you write heroine intro scene as her brushing her teeth (Raja Rani) you cannot lose hope in life and take drastic decisions. Once the phone conversation begins, it goes into confession mode listing out every detail the audience needs to know about the life of this couple in the past 10 years. It is of course interlaced with the GVM must-haves such as self-deprecating humour, throwbacks to his successful films, and Mani Ratnam; all in now-intolerable staccato.

When I took a step back, recounting events in the form of confessions inherently is a highly effective tool. But here it comes as the voice of the director than that of the characters. This was more evident because the Karthik I saw at the end of Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya, at his first film's premiere, was impersonal with Jessie. His demeanour acted as a conjecture that Karthik has learnt to internalise the pain of love failure and has channelled it through his work while staying aloof in the exterior. Can writer's block make Karthik, the person I knew, to propose to a woman who has been happily married for 10 years? GVM answers this by giving Jessi the line that she never told Karthik in all these years that she is happy with her present life. As I said above, the words seem to be coming from the director to serve the purpose of the story and not from the characters who have been in touch.

Moreover, I think GVM made a mistake by selecting this style to introduce the status-quo of this couple. The amateurs today are shelling out short films that keep the eyeballs fixated on the screen for every frame. It's surprising to me that GVM instead chose to go for a procedural style of filmmaking. By procedural, I don't mean boring. In our films, we have the procedural scenes for investigation, family meetings, friends chatting at tea shops, among others. They are all filler scenes which are present to prepare you for the anchor scenes that move the plot to the next plane. It seldom has drama. If we take Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya the film as an example, this phone conversation is built similar to the scene where Karthik and Jessi sit in Ganesh's farmhouse and just chat. That scene had an hour or so to prepare us for the casual chat. It's not so here. As a result, I just see a self-centred man-child begging his ex. The least GVM could try is to bring some kind of play and create an effective drama. That would certainly have made us forget the controversial aspect of this idea and get invested in their worlds.

All said and done, as the end credits appeared, I replayed the video and closed my eyes. The soundtrack is still 'Jessie's land', it's still 'Hosanna', it's still 'Mannipaaya', it's still 'Vinnaitaandi Varuvayaa'. However, A R Rahman brings in a slightly new arrangement to the sound through EDM-drops, fresh guitar chords, and his soulful backing vocals. As I went deeper into the contours of the score, I could feel that 10 years have passed, the world has changed, the erstwhile couple has moved to a new phase in their individual lives, but the soul is still intertwined. When I opened my eyes, there is a smile in his face as he thinks about her which is followed by sadness that she is not a part of him. And she? She sounded peaceful and composed compared to her ten years younger self. But deep down, one can see in her eyes that she is still perplexed by the vagaries of this lovable idiot. I think I will erase everything else from the short film and keep these two images alone along with the soundtrack.

Super Deluxe

2019-03-30T00:21:00.001+05:30

Director: Thyagaraja Kumararaja

While watching Super Deluxe, amongst the countless thoughts swirling my head, one thought occupied my mind predominantly. It wasn't the seamless performance of Vijay Sethupathi or that of Fahad Fazil. It wasn't the demonic performance of Budds, who makes me ponder through his no holds bar, yet subtle performance in this film, whether this is how Kamal would have performed Red Chitti in Enthiran. It wasn't the wacky directions and unexpected/ unexplored characters the movie was showcasing. The question was more fundamental: it was about the pacing of the film.

Every scene in the film is painstakingly slow. By slow, what I mean is that after the crux of the information and emotion is conveyed, the scene goes on and on. The worst one was the Myskkin's stoned revelation scene. Is it fear or apprehension which led TK to decide this pace for the movie? For unknown reasons (at least unknown to me), a marvelous debut by TK didn't mint gold at the box-office. Did TK think pace of narration in Aranya Kandam was the culprit? We may never know. But I am shocked to see that his indulgences to extract the last drop of nector from each scene has led to this outcome in Super Deluxe. As an outsider, if I was shown individual scenes from this film, I would have been glob struck by the depth of work. But as a complete film, I can't say the same. That's because of how we subconsciously consume content. In short, it has to do with theory of relativity. If we are watching only a scene, our mind is tuned to expect the end pretty soon. Hence, the indulgences in showcasing the emotions through body language and creating multiple point of focus will look mouthwatering for a cinema connoisseur. But if that same strategy is used for a 3hrs film, it becomes restless. Game of Thrones which has the same pacing issue, smartly solved this age old problem by ending on a high in most of the episodes. Thus the satisfaction overrides the snailpaced screenplay. Here, the climatic wacky idea (Nalan Kumarasamy) doesn't translate well on screen to deliver that expected high. Incidentally, another Nalan Kumarasamy screenplay (Mayavan) faced the same problem. Could it be that the only person who could direct a Nalan's screenplay is Nalan? If you think otherwise, I urge you to look at Nalan's short film, Thurumbilum Errupar to understand why he was brought into write this portion and what Nalan is capable of.

This reminds me of another problem with the movie: it spoon feeds many of the twists. Again, the stoned revelation by Mysskin and that which happens to the boy needed better filmmaking and certainly less dialogues. When Mysskin utters, 'do you know what happened the other day' to narrate a flashback, I facepalmed at the tackiness of the narrative. It felt as if the director got into the characters' body to explain us why things are going bizarre. Sorry, TK you don't have to breathe in our ears. We are perfectly capable of understanding your ideas.

Speaking of dialogues, the weakest ones are alloted for Fahad & Samantha during their car journey. The motive behind the last journey (pun intended) was to create an arc where two people understand each other when placed in an extraordinary situation. Unfortunately this romantic idea becomes a cliché since lines are aimed at completing arc and not to speak the mind of the characters. It also reminded me of the ineffective climatic car journey in OK Kanmani which suffered from the same problem. There is another reason for saying the dialogues during the car journey are the weakest in the film. It's because the couple also get the best dialogues of the film when they are in their home. The theater went down in laughters and claps for every quibble of Fahad's. The icing on the cake was Fahad's explanation as to why he speaks about the system when angry. For a director who is so astute in perfecting the periphery, I was surprised he went for cliché in the core arc of the couple. The religious angle too suffers due to the same problem, especially if one is exposed to a healthy dose of Kamal's ideology.

On the whole, while I was underwelmed keeping Aranya Kandam as benchmark, by other tamil director's standards, Super Deluxe is certainly a class above.

PS: I haven't written about the positives of the film here because every single article about this film will talk about that. My intention to write this post is to explore why the pace and tacky dialogues mared my film watching experience.

KGF: Chapter One

2018-12-27T16:19:00.000+05:30

Director: Prashanth Neel

In my opinion, It would take years to understand, let alone replicate the narrative framework of KGF. I say this with confidence because we still dismiss the screenplays of Sholay and Baahubali (Part One alone) as a grand masala caper. At the surface, KGF is just another hero worship film, filled with lines of adulations and over the top actions. But Prashanth (writer-director) employs a very unusual mix of genres to bring out an original screenplay that is parts stream of consciousness, parts mythical fantasy, parts epic and parts philosophy. While many have attempted movies covering these narrative styles, what sets KGF apart is how Prashanth plays with each style of storytelling and eventually pushing their boundaries to areas seldom visited.

As safe as it gets, Prashanth initially frames the story of an orphaned boy who becomes a don and then by the turn of events a messiah, through the narration of the author of a banned book. But the audacity of the director comes to fore when he tweaks the author's narration as a stream of consciousness. As a result, the narrative leaps jumps and flies at unexpected places into the future, revealing the legend of the protagonist, Rocky. I saw this as a style not just to startle the audience, but to pause the narration at high points to tell the audience that if you thought this was bodacious, wait till you see what he does in the future. This style also works because from the narrator's point of view, as he orates one bodacious event after the other orchestrated by Rocky, his mind trails off to the startling first impressions he received of Rocky as he started his investigation.

From the recently released Vada Chennai to Tarantino's Kill-Bill, the pause in narration is used excellently to provide additional information for the action that is about to happen. Prashanth here pushes this strategy even further. Take for example the troupe of Rocky's memories of his mother. The movie starts with it and as Rocky moves to Bombay and becomes rich and powerful, the memories start fading away except the promise she took from him. Even the promise to become powerful, rich and a great man metamorphoses into the idea of being a brand by himself. As he traces his roots back to Bangalore and KGF, the memories slowly creak back into his mind at many critical moments. The audacity in Prashanth's writing again comes to the fore as he mixes these portions that form the philosophical backbone of the film with the prophecy of the saviour. Not contained as ever, Prashanth adds depth to the powerful mythical construct by creating a psychological play between the slaves and Rocky. The manner in which this play culminates into a self-fulfilling prophecy is narrated through multiple perspectives, each riveting on its own.

In the climax, as Rocky ascend the stairs of the Durga temple, not just to pray but to take his place as the Shiva to the Goddess Durga, Prashanth pauses the narration for one last time to bring back a memory of Rocky's mother The information in this memory is going to create a very vivid and goosebump-worthy image of revolution in each audience's mind. Yes, Prashanth has also broken the cardinal rule of filmmaking: sometimes telling can be more powerful than showing.

So does the movie have no problems? Of course not. I felt the regular hero troupes such as introduction songs, item numbers and few crowd-pleasing moments to magnify the power of Rocky could have been better integrated within the film. One example is how well the kids pleasing moments in the mines work within the film's narrative while adding to the star's charisma, but the kids pleasing moments in Mumbai are generic. Another issue is while Rocky is beaten by circumstances often in the film, he remains invincible to all the villains. This weakens the powerplay in the film. But these are just minor quibs on the most audacious Indian film I have seen since Baahubali Part 1. Awaiting the next part of this series.

Vishwaroopam: What it could have been

2018-08-11T00:50:00.002+05:30

Director: Kamal Haasan

When Wissam (Kamal) and his wife Nirupama (Pooja) enter the elderly care to meet Wissam's mother, an Alzheimer's patient, we see that her world of four walls is adorned only by her son's images. It reminded me of another member of the extended Haasan family's film, OK Kanmani. There too a key character, suffering from Alzheimer's, had a loved one as an anchor. But Kamal the director pushes this trope further. Through a twist of fate, she isn't able to recognise her son standing in front of her. Akin to how Wissam is hit by flashes of images from the past throughout the film, this plot point took me back to the various moments prior to this scene in the series where Wissam is alienated.

Wissam's alienation starts when his father leaves him as an illegitimate baby; the Indian Army disavows him so that he can be an espionage agent; his colleagues want to get rid of him at the drop of a hat; his jihadi brethren feel he has betrayed them; his wife cheat on him; his motherland treats him as a terrorist; to top it all, his mother doesn't recognise him. The story clearly should have been about how Wissam, while fighting the existential crisis, stays more patriotic and principled in any room he walks into throughout the world. To the film's credit, in this Vishwaroopam universe, Wissam is probably the only constant in a multitude of variables and thus probably the title, Vishwaroopam (the magnificent incarnation). The ending in the form of salvation would thus fit in this universe mentioned above. But the series, part 2 in particular, is more interested in Kamal-ism.

By Kamalism, I am talking about his indulgences as an auteur. As a matter of fact, I do enjoy his indulgences, but only as a cherry or at worst as an icing on the cake. But in Vishwaroopam, and its sisters Dasavatharam, Uthama Villan, among others, the indulgences is the cake. For instance, take the scene where Wissam talks about nationalism. What ought to be the character's outburst when insinuated of treachery, lands as an indulgence. In fact, the whole episode involving Eashwar (Anant Mahadevan) comes through as a prop for the indulgences to play out.

As I walked out of the darkroom, I wondered whether I should be thankful that there is probably only one more of this phase of Kamal-ism via Sabash Naidu, or be sad that there isn't going to be another phase onscreen.

Kaala: A regular Rajini one man show with the best parts reserved for others

2018-06-07T22:59:00.002+05:30

Director Pa Ranjith

By the time the first song in Kaala comes on screen, Pa Ranjith skillfully establishes the conflict in the film. While on surface the conflict is about the right to property, as one digs deeper, Ranjith taking a leaf from Godfather, sets up a world where the aging don, Kaala, guards Dharavi against upper-class politicians with his righthand man-cum-elder son, while his younger son attacks the same problem through a liberal framework with his more efficient girlfriend. To further drive the point home for the Tamil audience, Ranjith names the relatively subdued younger son, the name of a Soviet Revolutionist and his elder son a Tamil name. Ranjith thus establishes early on that the film is going to talk not just about land politics with race and colour as extensions, but also an inner conflict as to how to approach the common problem.

As the film progresses with class conflicts on one end and a subtle and effervescent love triangle at the other end, it’s the inner conflict at the centre between Kaala and his son that I found most interesting. While Ranjith the writer sets up the tension through the parallel approach to solve the land problem, Ranjith the director aids my interest by framing his left-leaning son predominantly to Kaala’s left while his elder son occupies the right-hand side. The film peaks, staying true to the Godfather when an untoward incident pushes the younger son to the right.

After the peak, either for commercial reasons or lack of creativity, Ranjith shifts to Rajini one-man mass-masala show. While he coasts along exhibiting the AR Murgadoss brand of simplistic social justice, I found it straying way out of the conflict in a grossly ineffective manner. The Rajini show, which could have covered for the failed detour, too doesn't work mainly because of the inconsistency. Kaala is on a losing streak even before the film starts (his father is killed by the antagonist) and through the course of the film, the list only gets bigger. He does give a lot of threat to the opponent and yet doesn't actually do much, barring few powerful whimsical decisions. What more, many characters, umpteen times, question his achievements. Coming backing to the conflict, as the film ends symbolically where it started, the director’s voice seems to be convinced that he has provided a solution to the problem. Yet, as an audience, I only see the antagonist winning the war while losing the battle. Yes, philosophically smearing the opponent in unison is a fitting finale, but it doesn't ring as effective as Madras. The main reason is, in Madras, the people make a statement that the opponents don't matter to them anymore, while here they only cross half the well from being hero dependent for protests to taking the matter to their hand, literally. Doesn't Ranjith realise until the people legitimise the opponents, they will always be there? In hindsight, there is nothing wrong with a bittersweet ending. We all do live a day at a time. The problem here seems to be that the director doesn’t realise that it’s a bittersweet ending ala Ramana style. Thus, the question in my mind is what is the motive of the film? Is it to say we don't need a superstar to save us? Or that we unnecessarily symbolise these inconsistent leaders and end up where we started? I may never know. What I do want to comment is, having set up an inconsistent leader and ended with a people movement, Ranjith could have fleshed out the hero's arc better. Maybe Ranjith, hurt by the criticism that Kabali didn’t have a strong antagonist, ended up creating an antagonist who is destined to win, or rather born to rule as posted throughout Mumbai in the film.

What is emphatically clear through is this is an out and out Ranjith film where Rajini mouths and reacts through a political framework that is in polar contrast to the fiery airport speech he recently made in real life. I am perplexed as to whether one should appreciate Rajini for separating his political stance and cinematic brand or sympathize with him for his naivety to choose a film that is going to be shown to him at every step of his political career in answer to his future stances. I hope it's not the third option to diversify the portfolio.

Why Avengers: Infinity War is 'marvel'lous

2018-04-27T21:07:00.002+05:30

Director: Russo Brothers

When Civil War came, I was one of the few to not be impressed by the outcome, not just because of my over expectations, but also because the Russo brothers went for a subaltern formula compared to the one employed in the best Marvel movie, Winter Soldier which they helmed. With Infinity War, they are back to their best formula, viz. episodic thriller.

Let’s just digress to understand what an episodic thriller is. An episodic film is one where each block of the film is treated as an episode with an ending that pushes the stakes up for the next episode. When a thriller element is added to this type of screenplay, besides upping the ante through a singular goal tying all the episodes together, it makes the audience focus on what’s next rather than nitpicking any shortcomings.

In Infinity War, this format solves a perennial problem of star-studded films (DC please take note). It takes the focus out of the individual stars and puts the spotlight on the goal, thus avoiding fans’ disappointments that their favourite superhero didn’t get enough screen time. The spotlight here is Thanos and his mission to get all 6 Infinity stones. The movie starts and ends with him. Every one of the Avenger travels around him. Would this have been enough to make Infinity War good? Possibly. But the Russo brothers clearly weren’t aiming for just good. Take for example how they have used a logistical decision to their advantage. Anyone writing a film of this scale would have said let’s divide the teams into small manageable groups. The brothers imbibe this operational decision and fit it perfectly with the episodic format of the film by making each group take anchor in an episode. This not just avoids clutter on the screen, but also strengthens the emotional arc of the individual episodes. In crux, the movie is all about the spotlight moving towards individual anchor groups and vice-versa, like a ballet, with the mission of Infinity stones at the back of the hand, literally. To quote Thanos, the movie is thus perfectly balanced.

So if one follows the film through the journey of Thanos, and not through the Avengers, one wouldn’t nitpick that the girls didn’t get a better deal on screen, or that Black Panther ends up as a glorified background. It would possibly also mean you would understand why Dr. Strange did what he did and walk out of the movie hall in anticipation of Captain Marvel.

PS: As I came out of the movie hall seeing the shock on each person's face, my mind went back to the universe-altering cliffhanger that DC's Flashpoint Paradox provides. It's sad that DC couldn't succeed in that vision. Hopefully, something happens in the next decade.

Arjun Reddy

2017-09-14T18:17:00.000+05:30

Director: Sandeep Reddy Vanga

The first thing that struck me deeply about AR (Arjun Reddy) is how the love between AR and Preethi develops. She is a fresher with innocence written all over her face, carrying a pair of eyes filled with a mix of fear and sadness. As a result, her gaze towards AR is filled with helplessness. She is helpless because AR, bitten by love bug at the first sight, surrounds her teenage world in every manner possible. In essence, she is his princess-prisoner. This Stockholm Syndrome-ish relationship isn't punctuated with morality, ethics or etiquette that which one sees in star-crossed love stories that occupy Indian screens. The status-quo of the relationship changes only after she believes he is the one and willing surrenders herself to him. Not just that, her gaze too changes from fear/helplessness to unadulterated love.

In this character driven film, from the plot perspective, there isn't anything new Sandeep has done that one hasn't seen in Devdas/ Dev D or Rockstar. Frankly, so many character traits, conflicts, and even scenes are borrowed from these films. I sense he realises that too. That is why I could see on screen that he isn't just after creating a Devdas-like character who doesn't want to be answerable to the society, its rules and expectations. His interest seems to be more in exploring how such a character that featured in many path-breaking films (and possibly personally close to heart) can still be fresh and engaging. A testament to this is the way in which the scene where AR goes to Preethi's house after her marriage is conceived. While the motive of the scene is to evoke tragedy, Sandeep tweaks it a bit with black humor and surprises the audience. He succeeds in gripping the audience like this throughout the film by taking a (now) templated scene or plot point and elevating it to another level through his transgressions. Ultimately, these transgressions make the movie what it is - pathbreaking.

One another possible reason for conceiving the film could be the happy ending this film goes for, unlike its references. Here too, Sandeep doesn't cop out and force his characters to a happy ending like how Mani Ratnam is doing nowadays (Ok Kanmani, Kaatru Veliyidai). There is an amount of intelligence involved in resolving AR's conflicts with himself, his father and Preethi while still keeping everyone involved in-character. This organically paves way for the ending the movie aimed for. But what really struck me the most was why Sandeep opted for a minimalistic background score. Considering how Rockstar and Dev D were treating similar scenes as musical, AR is happy to be quiet. Maybe the bgm of Rockstar has created such an impact on me that I couldn't move past that.

Beyond treating this as a film, and looking at it from cultural point of view of a telugu / Indian film audience, I am spellbound by how path breaking the film is and how shrewd Sandeep is. Sandeep knows his male dominated audience will expect 'machoism'. His hero with anger management issues is thus packaged in a certain way to keep the target audience whistling and be engaged throughout. Yet, Sandeep doesn't compromise. He doesn't keep his hero in a high pedestal. He drops ample amount of information to let the keen audience know that this is a guy with issues (according to norms of the society) who has certain way of functioning. AR himself confesses that the only thing positive about him is his honesty towards his profession. Meanwhile, Preethi is a victim turned lover whose life revolves around AR whether he is there or not. That is why she stay in character when she tells AR that her husband hasn't touched him. The best bit of in-character mode for me though was how AR's brother reacts when he sees Preethi pregnant. Only when AR signals that it is his baby he looks relieved.

Baahubali 2: The Conclusion

2017-04-30T18:51:00.001+05:30

Director: SS Rajamouli

Walking out of Baahubali 2, my mind was filled with concepts relating to the art of communication. Most of them were surrounding the view that a movie becomes complete only in the minds of the audience. Yes, from the most submissive to the most dismissive audience member, everyone, in some form or the other, prods the movie in his or her own way to understand what the director is trying to convey through the silver screen. While watching Baahubali 2, I had more than one thought propping up in my mind; but not all were positive.

Take for example the last shot of the film. The golden statue head of Bhallaladeva is thrown into the river on Mahendra Baahubali's command to demonstrate the consequence of acting against dharma. The head drifts and falls from the waterfall, tracing the path of Shivudu’s ascend in the part 1. Rajamouli, the director, clearly wants to convey that Bhallaladeva is falling from the same heights that Shivudu climbed and eventually become king and stresses that life and the movie are a circle, what with the movie ending the same way it began. Yet, while watching this sequence, considering how the gold statue was made by robbing the common man, I thought why can’t Baahubali be more economical in making a statement? Similarly, when Amarendra Baahubali and Devasena fight in the war against Kuntala kingdom, I was wondering should the heroism of Baahubali be established at the expense of the home soldiers' inefficiency.

I am not nitpicking the film with an agenda. No film is perfect and yet one succeeds, at least in first viewing, by making the audience not concentrate on these trivial questions and instead on the intended narrative and USPs. Baahubali 1 did this marvelously. It took a plot that any film or literature enthusiast would have come across in life and made it mesmerizing by tweaking it in a novel manner; be it through visuals or ingenious plot devices, all the while giving something for every character to do. The ‘how’ which made an ordinary scene into an engaging one in Baahubali 1 is seldom present here. Going back to the war in Kuntala kingdom, the ‘hows’ do come in the form of bull-fire and the archery romance that happen between the leads. Yet, they weren’t packed enough to stop me from asking those trivial questions. More importantly, the whole Kuntala kingdom episode which takes up a lot of screen space is on one note to show how Devasena is in awe of Baahubali. I would any day take the troubling romance between Shivudu and Avanthika over this long drawn drab. Even the much hyped why Katappa killed Baahubali, although convincing as idea, since it was squeezed beyond its milkable level, tested my patience by bordering tv serial level of drama, especially by Bijjaladeva. It also doesn’t help that Bijjala Deva continues this one trick approach throughout the movie. Another highlight of Baahubali 1 was the ingenious and street smart tricks in the war sequences. While the scale of visual grandeur is higher here, idea-wise it sure is a letdown, especially in the manner with which Mahishmati is taken down after setting it up with so much protection strategy in part 1.

It doesn’t mean Baahubali 2 is a disappointment. Conceptually, this part is equivalent to the first if not better in terms of how the screenplay is designed intricately. Take for example the fire pot sequence in the beginning of this film. What seemed like a typical hero introduction scene (a good one at that) has more significance in the end, on paper. On screen, it needed little more fleshing out instead of being content with generic and random underlined punches. The portion that captivated me the most was the whole stretch from Devasena entering Mahishmati till Baahubali and family are banished. Thinking back, the reason I seem to have enjoyed that stretch a lot is because of how tightly packed it was with the ‘hows’ and the equal footing it gave for all principal characters, something which was maintained throughout Baahubali 1 unlike here. It also doesn't help that the whole living with people reminded me of Lingaa more so because of the Sabu Cyril connect.

Ultimately, all my concerns are due to the inherent form of the two-part film. The first part was draped with whys and hows as the characters wandered into the maze. Holding back key information and unleashing them at the right moment was the underlying theme of the first part. Heck, the character of Bhallaladeva was effective for the same reason. Meanwhile, the second part, in trying to answer all the questions raised and to give a befitting end, transformed into a neat labyrinth from being a maze, consequently became less interesting compared to the first. Nevertheless, seen as a single film, this is still a towering example of audacious imagination.

Kaatru Veliyidai

2017-04-09T03:37:00.000+05:30

Director: Mani Ratnam

In the poem ‘Kaatru Veliyidai Kannama’, the poet describes the beauty of kannama, how it mesmerizes the lover, captivates him to his core and becomes the torch for the darkness within and around him. VC, the protagonist of the film, Kaatru Veliyidai, takes off from the poem in spirit. He is mesmerized by the mere presence of Leela. Such is the power of Leela that the moment she lights a torch into the eyes of VC, the player gets played by the ethereal aura of the rightfully named Leela.

Mani Ratnam, here seems to be more interested in interpreting the poem in its various facades. He starts off this ambitious vision with self-indulgence. Thus, VC, who gets mesmerized by the beauty of Leela, wants her to be his anchor, the human embodiment of his poetry, the breeze that comes along with the air that surrounds him and ultimately the light to the darkness within. No wonder Mani makes the protagonist apologize through a poem, reminisce her through the wind that flutters the piece of cloth he has in his hand and finally as an anchor for his sanity when he is behind enemy lines. If these aren’t enough, through Leela’s friends and VC’s family, Mani pushes VC’s self-indulgence into the territory of self-centeredness. And this is where the core conflict in the movie arises. VC, who has fixed for himself the purpose of Leela in his life, is not able to see her as a fully formed human being. He fumes when she has an opinion of her own, forgets to value her time, barges into her life whenever and wherever he wants to, parades her as his trophy to his friends; the list goes on. It isn’t that VC doesn’t realize what he is doing, he clearly isn’t able to change even after multiple attempts. Mani beautifully juxtaposes this with the two cents VC gives his comrade that as a fighter pilot we don’t have second chances in life. By this point, I was back to the Ayutha Ezhuthu days, where Madhavan and Meera Jasmine fight it out to be in a relationship. On a side note, when I was watching Ok Kanmani, I was transported to the Siddharth-Trisha love track in Ayutha Ezhuthu. The scene with comrade also subtly points out that he is Arjuna, hat-tipping to his name Varun Chakrapani.

Coming back to KV, after umpteen sorry, when Leela moves out of VC’s life, the guy who has built an empire in the sky falls literally and figuratively. This is where the biggest problem in the film starts. Mani somehow thinks the fall and the intention to correct himself in the future as he crawls back to sky is enough for VC to get redemption. Yes, allegorically, VC needed to be grounded to realise his mistake. But what Mani doesn’t show or explain is how this realization can manifest into action. Thus, when the coda unraveled, I felt cheated. Can 3 years of search for a woman be enough to show that he has changed? It only shows to me how persistent a stalker he is. This is the next big problem in the film. Why does Leela get played (conned) by VC in perpetuity? Is it just to be different from the Meera Jasmine role (in Ayutha Ezhuthu) or the Anjali role (in Iravi)? Alternatively, if Mani is trying to imply the loop of love-insult-hate is going to continue, why is the end treated as a fairy tale one? This cop-out at the last moment isn’t new. I experienced the same in Ok Kanmani where the director decided that the young couple should get married seeing the love in the older couples, although they aren’t interested in marriage for completely different reasons.

Does this make the movie an excellent one sans the ending? Unfortunately no. The redemption portion that happens in the enemy line, apart from lackadaisical conceptualization, seem to happen non-linearly for the sole reason that the poem ‘Kaatru Veliyidai Kannama’ is about a lover reminiscing his Kannama. This again harps back to the Alaipayuthe days wherein the non-linearity stuck out like a sore thumb. If at all the whole story is going to be represented from VC’s point of view through his memories, why can’t it stay true to the concept consistently instead of doing a Gautham Menon (as he did with Vaaranam Aayiram). Is it to avoid the Mariyan treatment? Further, in a film that is meticulous enough to underline the caste and background of VC’s family, it disrespects the viewer by representing them through north-indian actors. The cherry in that nativity cake is the ‘sarratu vandi’ song which withers without any kind of root. The problem doesn’t end there. The symbolization of Leela as the wind that makes VC fly is used whimsically, pushing me to contemplate how fitting it would have been for theme of the movie, had it been a consistent prop.

In the end, it is unfortunate that these negatives pull down a movie filled with beautifully staged and narrated sequences like the storm, coffee table singing and dinner table sequences.

Baahubali - The beginning

2015-07-13T23:20:00.002+05:30

Director: S S Rajamouli

I have said it in the past, I am saying it now, and from how he goes about his career, I think I will be saying it again in the future as well – what audacity does SS Rajamouli have! It takes a master with raw passion towards the material to create ingenuous piece of art with such banal stories. Yes, you read it right – banal; for that is what Baahubali’s story too is if you go by Rajamouli’s stories – stories that have been told since our puranas came into existence. What then transforms this material into something extraordinary is the conviction with which it is narrated. People who have seen the film Kadhalika Neramilla’s horror story narration scene (or its counterpart in telugu/hindi) will agree with me that the way Nagesh/Mehmoob narrated the simple scene created the chill & humour and not the dialogues itself.

Of all the praises I want to shower over Baahubali, the most deserving one is the laid back approach in the narration. The story essentially being about larger than life people and events, the audience or rather I needed the gestation time to get soaked in the laws of the world Rajamouli has created. He seems to have realized the same too and have given enough commas and dashes so that when the exclamation mark comes up it stands as tall as Everest. Take the re-interpretation of the famous ‘mera Karan Arjun ayenge’ arc in this film. While Rakesh Roshan in Karan Arjun had the emotions welled up for us in front of the screen through direct cause and effect formula, Rajamouli takes an outwardly look of the sentiment with little more restraint causing ripples that magnify into a big 125feet tsunami. It is one of the best executed arc I have witnessed in recent times that has both the visual and emotional grandeur – all within the superstar formula that is unique to Indian films. It is an arc that makes me feel proud of our masala film’s intentions and pump the chest and say to the outside world – you can’t make this even with $300 million at hand.

Yet the movie isn’t about that arc alone. It is in the details or rather the journey that Shivudu takes; strike that as well; it is in the manner in which Shivudu makes his journey from the downhill of the waterfall to the battleground of Mahismati’s empire that makes the movie an epic. Take for example the mountain climbing scene in the very beginning of the film, Rajamouli could have easily gone the Krish way with that village portion – and it would have worked for the average audience who care for the main plot alone – but he doesn’t. He creates an arc worthy of a movie for that mountaineering event and without overdoing its heaviness gives it a Mougli/Jungle Bookish treatment which sets up the tone for the film – the raw power of will.

Yes, power of will is the underlying trait of all the characters in the film. It is a world where everyone has the raw power to achieve whatever they strive for once they set their minds on it. But after seeing tons of inhuman acts achieved with élan, somewhere down the line I personally felt, what if these super-humans who so irrationally trust their will to achieve fail? What if the arrow they point at their target goes elsewhere? But that isn’t the story Rajamouli wanted to say. His is a world of super-humans where their biggest enemy is their evil thoughts. His is a story celebrating the God-like power of humans who could move heaven and earth for the tears of their mothers.

Yet, these spectacles alone aren’t the movie. It is also about the street-smartness of the leads – right from how Sivagami handles her enemies to how Baahubali overshadows his cousin Ballaladeva in the race to the throne. But when I say street-smartness it isn’t as on-your-face as a K V Anand street-smartness where the hero/antagonist pumps the air and proclaims look how smart I am. Here the characters are by nature very smart. They read the situation and see the best possible solution by thinking outside the box. The magnitude comes into the play only when the elephant realizes the banana had a needle all along.

That however doesn’t coverup for the poor characterization of the guerilla warfare leader & tribal king. Yes, the king is just a prop for both the prince to show their acumen in war and for Rajamouli to enthrall us in a whistle-worthy war sequence, but it all feels weak if you see it from the neutral point of view. Same goes for the songs. Agreed, Keravani has lifted the movie through his background score but his songs are tiring – especially the duet where Rajamouli getting back to his pervert ways.

But the climax, oh the climax, I repeat it again – what audacity Rajamouli has to put a climax like that!! It is a middle finger to the audience telling them – this is my film, I will end it my way; you just sit in your seat till 2016 for the conclusion.

PS: a big thanks to the telugu crowd in chennai for creating the perfect ambiance to watch a film like this. Truly rewarding experience.

OK Kanmani

2015-04-18T03:13:00.000+05:30

He made a furtive glance; she gave an approving smile. Love spread as elegantly as the widening smile of her lips.

He would say I am not a fool to wait for you for hours together; she would say sorry for making you wait. Love knows the words between the pauses.

She would say I am staying away from you for some days; he wouldn't say anything; but goes away with a smile, enjoying the pain that he is getting due to the separation. Love truly went mad.

If you got bored just imagining what that would look like on screen, the movie OK Kanmani and this opinion piece is not the place for you to be in.

OK Kanmani, as you sensed from the treatment above, is a typical Mani Ratnam film, filled with his patented strokes of artistry on a bright canvas setup by PC Sreeram, Rahman and others. It isn't a film that is cluttered with novel ideas or an unique treatment. But what sets it apart is the ingenuity it poses in saying differently what was already said in Mouna Ragam, Ayutha Ezhuthu and Alaipayuthe.

When Shobana ran towards Rajini with wide eyes and the heart of a child, with quirkiness and yet with a pleasant liveliness; when Revathy ran towards a cat with playful demeanor; when Aishwarya jumps out a running car just to prove a point; when Shalini polishedly shoo Madhavan away after hearing him deliver one of the biggest pickup lines witnessed on screen; when Trisha gives her number to Siddharth and then goes on a date with him - a stranger; when Nithya repeately pulls Dulquer's leg, we know they are the same people enacted by different actors, and yet we also know they are all unique characters sharing a common ground in terms of sensibility and wit. For example, in OK Kanmani, when She makes fun of Him in one of the many occasions, we know that He will come back well; we also know that He will come back with something witty; heck we even anticipate it to be completely out of the box and yet within the context of the argument. But, when the come back eventually comes into existence on screen in the same form we expect of Mani Ratnam, it still looks fresh. That is the power of great writing - conjuring great things out of nothing - and this film is an epitome of that phrase.

It may also be due to the way acting is extracted from the artists. For instance, how many times have we seen Prakash Raj play the father figure with a touch of maturity and dignity? How many times have we seen him recounting his old days as a lover in the film? Many a times when he recounts his stories, a pinch of laugh and a glint of happiness in his eyes goes above the level of tolerable sweetness. His now trademark loud laugh kills the sweet memories. But here in OK Kanmani, be it the laugh, the smile, or the concern, all are measured and too close to be perfect.

But there is an inherent problem with this language of film-making; magic out of nothing. It leans heavily towards the form at the expense of content. The smart comebacks, life problems that flies away with a hearty laugh, the strong will to be witty and cool all the time instead of being real, vulnerable and honest makes the film too light to stand its ground. While these aren't major bumps, the directionlessness of the film after a point acts as one. Similar to Alaipayuthe, from which the energy is borrowed, here too Mani Ratnam, after establishing the way of life of his characters, get weak in knees and ends up undoing his work. While Alaipayuthe' s couple were still in character after the mess created by the writer, the OK Kanmani couple takes a complete U-turn just because the writer wants them to. It isn't the decision that bothered me the most, but the reason for taking the decision. Another Mani Ratnam film that touches a serious topic, goes knee deep, enjoys the chill and thrill of the water, but as it raises to hip high comes out in a flash. The worst thing is that they ended up glorifying it similar to how Gautam Menon glorified his botched up ending in Neethane En Ponvasantham with the line - 'after every fight they had a baby; now they are living happily even after with 5 children'. In short as Mani Ratnam himself has said through a line in the film - 'nalla padathiku mokkai climax'.

Interstellar

2014-11-15T00:16:00.000+05:30

There was a time when Nolan used to be a complete filmmaker, a puppeteer if I may, controlling everything happening on screen and inside your brain with just two hands. By the time Prestige became an instant cult, Nolan had by then gotten a name for himself for pulling all the strings at his disposal to drive home a single idea. Then Batman happened. As his visions started getting grand, the compulsion to set up every string in the film towards that single idea became paramount. In a black and white world it would be easier to say this fetish of his is undoing him; that now he has a string attached to himself to which he will always be binded. But if you look at the glass as half full, this string isn't a chain around the neck, but around the torso to not let him fall as he reaches for the stars. And with Interstellar he has gone beyond the stars into a new galaxy in the safety of this string.

Yes, Interstellar is convoluted, delusional and at times fabricated to drive home that single idea. True to Nolanverse, we have a protagonist who keeps throwing punch lines at moments notice. The scene structures are such that a scene must follow from a cue in the previous scene akin to forced poetry. But once we are acclimated to the fabrications and eye-roll worthy punch lines and once I saw where he is taking me I started enjoying the journey. It is a journey that swiftly shuttles between the original Star Wars and Gravity and showcases the best of both worlds in typical Nolan style. If it was about finding the force within you to fight for the universe in Star Wars and finding the determination within you to go against all odds to survive in Gravity, Interstellar is both and beyond.

Beyond the glossy layer of space travel, Interstellar is basically a Nolan's version of M Night Shyamalan's Signs. Here too a father and his child's relationship in a farmer's land is as important as the deep crisis the world is embroiled in. Here too things aren't as we see it and once the key to decipher it appears a whole new level of understanding prevails. But where Shyamalan scores big with the 'eventual payoff' interpretation, Nolan fails. In his usual obsession to do justice to the single idea, the concoction he creates feels natural only rarely. But in this journey of Interstellar where though I didn't like some of the routes for the bad roads I still ended up liking the view it provided. For from what I saw, the point of focus seems to be on how creatively and engagingly the simplest of events can be expressed on celluloid. In that aspect, Interstellar is a journey where my sensories gotten heightened to appreciate even the bare basic elements of the nature as I saw it through Nolan's eyes and Hans Zimmer's ears.

Interstellar may be the weakest film from Nolan the writer. The title Interstellar itself doesn't embody the single idea the film represents. But as a director he has gone into a new level with the visual narration, reiterating that he may sure be attached to strings but knows for sure which string to pull to make me laugh or cry or sometimes both in joy at the ability to be manipulated intelligently.

PS: Didn't Irandaam Ulagam deal with something similar?

Kochadaiiyaan

2014-05-23T18:00:00.000+05:30

Director: Soundarya

Writers & Supervisors: K.S.Ravikumar / R. Madesh

Kochadaiiyaan is an unique attempt from Rajni. Not because of the computer-generated-photorealistic-animation (phew that’s a very big word with zero meaning and negative output!), but because it dabbles with the unwritten philosophy of life. Beyond the huge kingdoms and epic wars, Kochadaiiyaan is a battle between people with myopic views and it’s opposite. While this in itself is a giant leap for Rajni, the script proudly goes one step further and teases us at times by swapping people from the either side of ideology and at times by depicting a guy with both ways of life.

The last time Rajni tried something on these lines in Baba, he got a heavy beating in box office and rightfully so. But this time the stark difference comes in the form of the organic flow in the narration. While many writers are happy to just mount scene after scene primarily to fill-up the timeline and at times to convey the story to the audience, only few people passionate about the art see the strength of narration. To the uninitiated, narration encompasses the talent to identify which part of the story’s continuum is fit to be shown, which part is better left hidden, which perspective of the same plot is interesting, in which order the scenes flow smoothly. While this approach is necessary for any script, it is all the more necessary in Kochadaiiyaan for it balances a very thin line between revenge and justice, in that the hero has his own flaws. While any Rajni film will celebrate these flaws or worse make him a two dimensional saint irrespective of his inherent flaws, in this computer generated form, he is more flesh and blood. Fittingly, there is a scene in Kochadaiiyaan where Rajni intelligently uses his own blood to escape from captive. The script’s integrity enhances even more when it reveals that Rajni still has to pay for his sins in the sequel.

Amidst these engaging character arcs is the epic score of Rahman. Right from the gusty voiceover at the beginning to the songs, he acts as a lifeline thread to the film, elevating the script’s level to greater heights and covering its shortfalls whenever needed; case being the ‘idhayam’ song. While the poor choreography depicts the song as a dance number and hence a speed breaker to the tense narration, Rahman’s structuring of the song, aided by Vairamuthu’s lyrics, fills the necessary gap. This song again is an example of the wonderful detailing present in the script level. While most scripts would have just jumped into the flashback without prodding, this script takes effort to show the agony and dilemma in the heroine’s mind which instigates her to take the uncharted path in love. But the script isn't just about the story; it also gives ample space for its stars to stamp their presence. Besides Rajnism, I loved how the dancing prowess of Shobana was elegantly tied into the narrative instead of being a forced cameo.

But then, most of the merits I listed out go to the script. With K.S. Ravikumar at the helm of affairs, aided in his absence by R.Madesh (erstwhile right hand of Shankar), little can be deciphered what was the creative contribution of director Soundarya besides creating an underwhelming animation of the wonderful script. But then, with all the resources in the world at its disposal, what Avatar and Tintin lacked, Kochadaiiyaan has in abundance – solid script.

Highway

2014-02-21T23:23:00.001+05:30

Director: Imtiaz Ali

Besides Child molestation, caged city life, sufferings of the improvised society, longings of a motherless son, Highway is inherently a road movie of two people from different walks of life enjoying the uncharted journey and each other’s presence. While Imtiaz Ali fabulously mounts these precious moments on screen which I have till now felt only through other senses in real life, he squanders in the remaining parts.

Similar to how a long road drive starts with the commotions of the city, Highway begins with the eccentricity of the leads. While Veer (Ali) keeps rejecting the offer of her captor to escape, the latter keeps showering her with love like a quintessential rowdy with a heart of gold; all the while unsettling us. However, as the film unclutters from melodramatic reasons behind these events, similar to how the rustic beauty of the highway takes us to serenity, the film lands itself in its scenic stretch. It is in this stretch I realized what really wasn’t connecting me with the movie earlier. It isn’t the bewildering grammar of the narrative, but the execution of it. That was why, while I felt Veer opening up about her past in Act-1 to be a cheap trick in the screenplay, I was empathetic when her captor could see his mother in her in Act-2.

Though fulfilling, the long stretch of serenity in the highway does have to end and the ruckus re-enter our lives as we approach our destination. Similarly, this Highway too goes back to its staged drama. Yet, as Veer says, ‘I don’t want to go back to the place you took me from; I don’t want to go to the place where you are taking me; but this journey, this journey is what I enjoy’, the journey of the leads once they accepted each other is worth to be revisited.

Veeram

2014-01-11T20:46:00.002+05:30

Director Vishnuvardhan could take a lesson or two from Director Siva (who has made the recent Veeram) on how to showcase the charisma surrounding Ajith. While Vishnuvardhan in his two films with Ajith was only able to exhibit the style quotient of the star, Siva here pulls of a spectacular show surrounding the magnetic personality of the star.

In ground reality, it is very difficult to weave a mass entertainer depending only on Ajith. Beyond his handsomeness, unlike his contemporaries, Ajith doesn't have a convincing physique to pull of an action hero. When he punches bad guys, more than the wobble in their abdomens, the wiggle in the triceps, biceps and even the paunch of Ajith is more pronounced. The sluggish movements in the action sequences extends to the dance numbers as well. The only area that attracts attention is his elan to breeze through the anti-hero roles that he has been enacting off-late. Yet, the larger than life type films he chose haven't allowed these elements to work into the screenplay; as a result they look nothing more than a photoshoot; or at the best a well made prologue to what could be done with the charisma of Ajith.

This area is where Siva has chosen to attack with his Veeram. Instead of inserting shots that drowns the screen with the white hair or the charming smile or the angry eyes of Ajith just for the sake of pleasing the fans (like how Mahesh Babu's films keep doing for aeons), Siva brings a purpose for these shots. It isn't logic that he is after that tests the grey cells of the audience, but an organic flow in the crazy narrative which works overtime to justify the hype surrounding the larger than life character that Ajith plays. In this mad world that Siva has created, the pose that Ajith (in all white) gives with a black tea goes beyond an aesthetic shot and tells his story through comedy, adulations and sentiment. The love between an aging Ajith and a petite Tamannah too stays true to the mad caper that Siva aimed to deliver. Also, during the whistle worthy action sequences the attention is more on mayhem that the Hero creates through his presence than on the actual fight.

While this is a new dimension for Ajith worship, Siva's formula is essentially a reworking of the successful MGR formula. We get to see shots of Ajith hugging a grandmother, shaking his forefinger sideways to say no to God-like treatment, giving away properties on marriage, making sure everyone is stomach full, standing up for farmers among other dramatic gallantry. While many other heroes have donned the MGR role successfully, Ajith seems to be most comfortable one in it. He is as at ease while riding a bullock cart as he is when talking about castes, pride, philosophy and even Karmas and purpose of life at time as a big leader; and it never creates facepalm.

But once Siva moves away from magnifying the Ajith mania and starts focusing on the story, everything fizzles away into another masala film. Looks like Siva has used up his entire artillery only to showcase Ajith and not the entire film.

Irandaam Ulagam

2013-11-24T11:33:00.002+05:30

Director: Selvaraghavan

Selvaraghavan's films post Pudhupettai, for reasons best known to him, traverse between goose bumps inducing and vein popping moments. While the ingenious plot in the second half of Aayirathil Oruvan overshadows its shortcomings, Mayakkam Ena disorients me by juxtaposing between nerve wrenching silly moments and heart drenching emotional sequences.

Over the period of these two movies, having observed the inconsistency of Selva's narrative grammar, I became prepared not to be bogged down by the leads' forced comic moments with their supporting casts. Accepting his narrow minded approach to acting for what it is, that which can be convincingly portrayed only by Danush, this time around I also didn't bother about the uniformly terrible acting his casts were going to display. Also, the incomplete backdrops, blind eye to details or shallow grandeur that goes in vain weren’t my concern. Because, I realised, in a Selva movie, the tools for conveying the emotions goes beyond the individual elements in the screen and transcends the skills of the artists, whom he only uses as a reference point in frame to communicate with us through visual artistry.

These minor sacrifices started to pay rich dividends as I plunged into Irandaam Ulagam - a story of two worlds. While, I grinded my teeth through the artificial acting of Anuskha's friend and the lazily written Goa portions, I was bathed in poetry during the sequences where both Arya and Anuskha struggle to get in terms with their love. But, the story being about love stories in two parallel worlds, while these wonderful moments were coming only from the 1st world, the 2nd world looked too bland. Though I could understand that the callousness of the 2nd world was by design, and while I could also appreciate the much hyped hunting sequence, the 2nd world couldn't break beyond the intriguing shell it was trapped in. As boredom started to seep in, by a master stroke, Selva raises all hopes on the movie when he ingeniously charts a map between both worlds; but only to fall short of that promise in the aftermath of the surreal event.

Once the Messiah of love is brought from the 1st world to inadvertently spread pure love in the 2nd world which is devoid of love, Selva squanders the opportunity to express in terms of visuals one of the best ideas in recent times. For a film that intends to infuse first love into a disoriented land, nothing much was done in the screen time to sow the seed of love and water it, only through which the roots could have spread and let the love seed blossom into a flower. Instead he is satisfied that some shots of tears and few photographs are sufficient to drive the point home.

Another film, 'The Fountain' which dabbles on similar waters, doesn't shy away from going the length to establish the depth of love. Ironically its success stems from the fact that the film concentrates only on the couple and nothing else. Whereas Irandaam Ulagam dilute the concepts with a lot of unexploited characters - especially the 'Amma' role – once again clearly showing the inability of Selva, a past master in handling complex characters, to handle complex environments.

Raja Rani

2013-09-28T21:23:00.003+05:30

Director: Atlee

Formulaic films have always been the safe-bet for our filmmakers ensuring a breather for struggling stars and gateway for new entrants. Is it mainly because of the abundance of successful reference material to source from for formulaic masala film, or because of the difficulty to create formulaic structures in other genres, anything done besides action or comedy in films have always been termed novel attempt. While many feel-good films have attempted to serve a commercial potboiler, only few were able to please the audience, of which Cinematographer turned Director Jeeva’s films contributed a lot. After a long lull created by his demise, debutante Atlee, with his rom-com Raja Rani, has successfully filled the gap.

Adding himself to the list of new age filmmakers with great taste for visuals, Atlee creates pitch perfect backdrop for the film’s riches and lower-middle class portions. Moving further in, besides fleetingly touching the sensibilities of the well-off audience through the leads’ sophisticated lifestyle, he also plays to the gallery through the usual charades of Santhanam and Sathyan and through a surprisingly urbane version of Nan Kadavul-Rajendran. And yet, for someone who shows great command over every part of filmmaking, Atlee fails to understand the requirements of the content he has chosen. Instead of plotting the film around the romance in the three love stories and flavoring them with other crowd-pulling factors, the love stories seem to be excuses for the irreverence of the key artists in each segment to take the center stage. While I don’t have any issue over irreverent comedy, this movie diligently asks us to take the love stories to be heart wrenching while not giving anything substantial to make us invest in these characters. While Jai/Nayanthara and Arya/Nazariya pairs fall in love because they have to, Arya and Nayanthara have only sympathy for each other. If they are that weak at heart, I wonder why they treat their spouses inhumanly when we don’t even dare to do such things to strangers in real life. Clearly Atlee’s only intention is to entertain us in each frame by any means available. Sundar C and Rajesh who are pioneers in this kind of nonsense comedy never ask us to take the subject seriously and only ask us to enjoy the comedy. To top it, the funny lines aren't extraordinary to forget this serious flaw. Till Anniyan, even Shankar, who fills his screenplay with impractical comic reliefs to balance his serious subject, doesn't compromise the emotional undercurrent of the film for the sake of having popular entertaining elements.

Sometimes a lack of strong love can be overcome by stellar captivating performances. While it’s overwhelming to see the actors completely surrendering to the director’s vision, except for Sathyaraj and Nayanthara’s roles, Atlee has only been able to give to most of his artists roles that they have become famous for. While Arya carry forwards his happy-go-lucky guy role, Sathyan reprises his overconfident-frail guy role, Santhanam his guide/philosopher/best friend role, Jai though continues where he left-off in Engeyum Epodhum, effectively captures the attention of the audience with an innocent portrayal of Surya. Meanwhile, Nayanthara though fails miserably in her college girl portrayal, becomes the main asset of the film in her matured girl segments. It is also a pleasant surprise to see Sathyaraj look and perform well especially after abysmal back to back performances in Chennai Express and Thalaivaa (I haven’t seen Varuthapadatha Valibar Sangam).

While these were my reservations, like for any well marketed masala film, the audience with whom I saw the film seem to believe they have witnessed a masterpiece in terms of entertainment, completely moved by the ‘heart wrenching love story’. Maybe they are the people who were moved to tears on seeing the epilogue of Thuppakki. As far as my allegiance is concerned I will go back to re-watch Mouna Ragam and Rhythm, films that largely stayed true to its theme.

Thandavam

2012-10-08T21:09:00.000+05:30

Director: A L Vijay

A movie is often considered a symphony of the audio & visual medium; and sure enough the auteurs have always striven to tread on a path between the said & the unsaid in order to keep us in a trance. To achieve that feat in Thandavam, a self-proclaimed unusual revenge saga of a blind man, A L Vijay employs everything in the rule book & that could precisely be the reason for its inability to interest us.

Looking at Thandavam on the whole, the crucial problem with the film clearly lies in its immature treatment. Sure the premise of the action thriller is something even an infrequent film viewer would appreciate of. But when the film sets out to express itself, what clearly could be and had been registered through the visuals gets re-registered again and again till one feels nauseated by the events. As this redundancy gradually distances the audience for the silver screen, the age old formulas to invoke emotions becomes too tiresome & juvenile to warrant our attention.

Close to the release of the film, a trailer was released by the Thandavam team. Splashed all over the media, it started off with a song sequence followed by a caption stating ‘a love story’. It was then followed by snippets of the film’s different scenes with subsequent captions like ‘a story of friendship’, ‘family story’, ‘revenge story’, ‘fun story’, etc; and at the end of the trailer, they claimed it to be ‘a complete entertainer’. As any Actor Vijay or Salman Khan film goes by, the trailer simply shells out varied ideas and values like how the 27 states displays its props during the Independence Day parade. As demeaning as it could be to call it entertainment, the trailer otherwise is a perfect showcase for what the film stands for. The film begins as action thriller interlaced with unintentional comedy, at the midpoint of which it discards that & becomes a complete romantic film. Long past the expiry date of the romance when the movie limps towards the end, it suddenly gets the urge to be a revenge saga again. All this while the main selling point of the film that the protagonist is a visually impaired person, is used only as a second rate prop. With such obscurity looming large on the screen, one wonders who really is the visually impaired – the writer or the protagonist.

This review was written for Wogma.

Mugamoodi

2012-09-08T08:46:00.001+05:30

Director: Myskkin

On surface level, Mugamoodi (Mask), from the acclaimed director Myskkin, sure poses as a bland name for a superhero movie.

Anand (a) Lee (Jiiva) the man, who would adorn the coveted mask in the movie, is a loafer to his father’s eyes & the world which consists of his eye candy girl. But according to him, he is a dreamer who wants to make it big in the world by doing something that would require his complete soul to be involved & not just 9~5 of his time. Ironically his only defense against the society is his love for Kung Fu. When his Master, who he reveres, abstains him from showcasing his talents, all he could do is wear a scarf around his face and break the knuckles of his unworthy opponents. These righteous acts lead him to Gaurav (Nasser) a police officer, one among the many perplex characters in the film. On his trial for safecrackers, Gaurav fills the screen with seriousness and it does feels right when people fear him. Yet, the veteran, who is addressed as a commissioner at times, still has to answers a bunch of younger officers who seem to have more authority than him. The antagonist who is the head of safecracker’s team has an odd characterization as well. He breaks into houses with allegedly hi-tech gadgetry, wearing a mask, only to unmask it in front of his victims, as though it is his real face that they should fear. But the strangest of them all is the Kung Fu master Chandru (Selvaah). He does fit well for a man with an untold past, but whenever he is asked to take the mantle of a Kung Fu master, it feels as though that is his fake identity – one that keeps him functioning in this world.

From these characters and the other unlikely ones (especially Anand’s grandfather scientist), one could sense a pattern of sorts emerge from the way they behave. It is as though when Myskkin wanted to make a super-hero flick, his dystopian characters (the ones that we associate him with in his earlier ventures) decided to wear a mask and fill in for the requisite roles of a super-hero flick. This could well be the real purpose of naming the movie as ‘Mugamoodi’, the mask that Myskkin’s world wears to enter the super-hero world; the point being so extensively explained in the song 'vaayamoodi summa iruda'. As Anand's friends start to sing the song which would advise about his dazed state of mind after love at first sight, Myskkin just lets his hero jump into Swiss alps, ripping away from his roots and make it into a mere romantic number. Unfortunately, though he stands in a picturisque location, his heart still thinks and talks in a way only people in his world do.

For a super-hero movie to stay in our mind, it needs that extra special writing, which Myskkin somehow managed in the first half by borrowing elements from his Hollywood counterparts. Albeit being able to accustom to the 'what if Myskkin's brand of characters were set in a super-hero plot', as the movie moved-on from the build-up phase and stepped into serious 'super-hero' action, I couldn’t stand the travesty. From being an inspired effort, the film became a spoof of the American heroes; especially at the fag-end of the tale where we are confused whether to laugh or shout with anger over the happenings on the screen. Looking back, the warning which Anand’s friends gave him during the 'vaayamoodi summa iruda' song, could actually be for Myskkin, who intentionally deviated from his roots, then on, into a field he couldn’t penetrate.

Julayi

2012-08-16T23:31:00.000+05:30

Director: Trivikram Srinivas

In every mass hero film’s opening shot, as the hero poses in his immaculate signature style, the camera zooms in to capture the gushing zeal of a no-nonsense hero accompanied by an earth shattering buildup of tempo; all for the thundering response it would get theatres all over. Eons have passed and yet we aren’t sure whether the response is for the signature pose or the mere appearance of the mass hero or the wonderful build-up to the fitting coda. But, when Allu Arjun (the mass-hero of Julayi) comes into the frame as suddenly as a dog crossing the street, we are left with none of the three factors to cheer for the mass-hero. However, the past master that he is, Trivikram (director) compensates for that by conjuring an enticing bank robbery as the next scene to show the acumen of our beloved hero.

Julayi, its mass commercial formula notwithstanding, is the story about the clash of intellects. While the protagonist is an impatient youth, who can't wait to climb up the ladder of riches, the antagonist is a self-conceited criminal. While the former tends to bend any rules to achieve his dream, the latter exudes passion for his art of robbery. What binds them together though, is their willpower and unorthodox and yet street smart brain.

With such an alluring concept, Trivikram starts off as a crazy entertainer with some wonderful witty lines thrown in - dialogues have always been Trivikram's strong hold. Unfortunately, as the game progresses, the dialogues become its own shackle in the incoherent script. Where there should be riveting action & pertinent lines, there is exorbitant action & brimming lines. Not just there; from the songs & their dance sequences to the overzealous comic relief portions till the exaggerated de-glamorization of Ileana (the love interest alias dream girl), every other ingredient thinks itself as the talking point of the film and eventually irritate us.

The problem with Julayi, is not the lack of idea, it is the over-abundance of it without proper packaging – a pre-requisite for these kinds of movies. It is easy to say Julayi isn’t a good movie, but with enthralling set-pieces springing up now & then it becomes really hard to lose hope on the movie; albeit these highpoints aren't promising enough to say the movie is fairly engaging. Eventually, Julayi true to its name turns out to be an aimless wanderer, meandering over a lot of wonderful things for the sake of being a masala caper, but ends up being a poorly mixed cocktail.

This review was written for Wogma.

Maalai Pozhudhin Mayakathilaey

2012-07-31T22:32:00.000+05:30

Director: Narayan Nagendra Rao

In the very beginning of the movie, an aspiring filmmaker gets money from a big-shot under one condition that he makes his aide (an old hefty guy) the hero of the film. Rejecting the offer, the protagonist comes to a coffee shop from where the story kicks off. At the end of the 2 hours long movie, I felt, with great potential to be the decade’s best unintentional comedy, had the film-maker went on to make the film with that aide, the director of Maali Pozhuthin Mayakathile would have spared us from the insipid tale of romance. For a film that is set in CCD where one would at least expect a cappuccino, the director takes a bean that is neither roasted nor dried out, brews it with rain water that floods the screen and serves with a teaspoon of salt.

Sometimes we make few decisions based on certain information. Many a times, they backfire; one such being my decision to watch Maalai Pozhudin Mayakathiley. I could go on blotting this page with negativity about the movie but I didn’t choose this film to do precisely that. There were concrete reasons that drew me to the silver screen. The symphony of the scintillating tracks by Achu & textbook beauty shoots of Gopi that looked glamorous in the teasers did appease the peeved mind. Though they occupy 1/4^th of the time space, song sequences alone can never make a poorly made film tolerable.

Maalai Pozhudin Mayakathiley is another example that unique concept alone can never carry a film to the podium; in this case not even to the cafeteria of the stadium.

This review was written for Wogma

Billa-2

2012-07-15T21:23:00.000+05:30

Director: Chakri Toleti

When you have a successful franchise in your hand that had survived three decades of viewership, any maker would want to expand the frontiers. While his counterpart in the Don series moved forward with the story, the Ultimate Star of tamil films decided to tread on a different path, that of going back in time to tell the genesis story of David Billa (the tamil version of Don). While an origin story usually stresses on the formative days of the titular character, with Billa, the urge to see the history of the much revered Don surmounts thanks to the insufficient material available on the reclusive gangster.

But five minutes into the movie, with the best dialogue of the trailer wasted terribly, I suspected dreadful times await me. As it happened, after 2 long hours, Billa-2 stood as a testament that any film, no matter how good a star you have in it, how tech-savvy & creative technicians you involve in it, will only be as good as the creative vision of the director at the helm of affairs.

The problem I had with Billa-2 is not that it couldn’t justify the hunger for violence of the protagonist; we have after all welcomed many a maniacs who just want the world to burn. I didn’t even mind the fact that the film was monotonously only about the escalation of a rampant man. Hell, I could even tolerate a plump hero whip and win over his masculine enemies in a jiffy. But the issue really was about the convincing factor deployed in it. You really can’t make an action movie with the action sequences being its weakest link. From the opening sequence fight, till the much talked about helicopter fight scene, nowhere was the violent rage that seeps out of David Billa’s face could fill the screen space. As a result we are only able to see computer generated blood bursting out of the cadaver even before the knife touches it.

On the hindsight, with wonderful punch lines and some well-intended scenes that ebb out of the crevice, like a much needed crest after a long trough, Billa-2 did have it moments now and then, making me wonder why the writers couldn’t be more diligent in the work. Had the creators understood that taking the audience to the coda is as important as the coda itself, Billa-2 sure would have been an adrenaline pumping movie. Unfortunately at its present form, Billa-2 is nothing more than the 2 hours stretched version of its 2 minutes trailer with 1 hour 48 minutes of boredom. If at all the film answers something, it tells an origin story where a plump Ajith walks all the way to become the trim & fit Billa in the 2007 film.

This review was written for Wogma

Eega

2012-07-08T20:58:00.000+05:30

When SS Rajamouli announced that he is going to make a revenge saga of a housefly and that too not on the lines of Bug’s life, I was appalled to say the least. Now how can a tiny insect attempt to kill a man? Even if he had chosen the blood sucking mosquito as his protagonist there could be some plausibility to the idea. But this is from the director who convinced everyone south of vindhyas of a warrior who could fight and win over 100 soldiers at a time. SS Rajamouli the director with the Midas touch sure must have known what he was doing. The end result is a buzzy little creature called Eega (House-fly) that could give bumblebee a run for its honey at being audaciously capable of doing the impossible.

In its screen time of 2 ¼ hours, Eega not just defies almost all laws of nature, but also breaks tons of clichés associated with a masala film while proudly being one. For one, though the title role of Eega is the star of the film, the film relies primarily on its antagonist’s angst against the petite fly, portrayed menacingly by Sudeep (known to the hindi audience through Phoonk). Notwithstanding the fact that his role is modeled on the character Raghuveer (from Magadheera – another Rajamouli film) Sudeep is able to infuse a different persona which effectively evokes sympathy for computer generated Fly. While Sudeep gets to be a livewire, Samantha unlike the heroines in a superhero/masala film gets to be more than the trusted aide to the efficacious fly. This is a far cry from the heroines of the director’s previous films, who were deployed mainly to paint the screen with voyeurism. (Rajamouli is the man behind the original version of now successful Rowdy Rathore).

For a movie that revolves around three principle characters, SS Rajamouli should be applauded for intelligently intertwining their actions which tests one another’s strengths and weaknesses, to move the plot forward. But for a movie that is targeting all ages, it is unabashedly gory, a point that parents of toddlers should think over before taking them to the silver screen. Not only that, the glorified-immature romance that play out in the first few minutes of the film lurks us back to the films in 80s, where men were loafers pursuing the job of wooing the heroine.

These slight glitches apart, SS Rajamouli can be proud of creating a fantasy film without compromising on the indian sensibilities, that is going to make film lovers throughout the world turn their attention towards India and indian cinema. In line with the famous tamil saying, SS Rajamouli & his Eega have certainly proved that ‘Vallavanukku pullum ayudham’ (even a grass is a weapon for the victor).

This was written for Wogma

The Curious Case of 18/9

2012-06-07T01:11:00.001+05:30

In the film world or in any writing industry, anything that needs to be conveyed starts off with an idea. This idea creates a spark which makes it to grow into a full-fledged story. When this story captures the imagination of the people involved, the plot and the characters that are driving them are subsequently developed and enhanced to magnify the impact that the one liner had on the creator. Coming out after watching Vazaku En:18/9, I realized how miserably the movie has failed to rise above the synopsis that it started out with.

With a plot line similar to that of the movie ‘Ram’, VE18/9 opens up as a crime thriller with a boy being the prime accused. As he gets prodded by the interrogating officer about his life, the boy begins to recount his trials and tribulations up till the day he is brought for interrogation. Like any scared boy would tremble before a police officer and plead for innocence, the protagonist keeps reminding the audience through the voice over about the hardship & injustice he had to face at various walk of his life. When something is reiterated countless time, it is human tendency to question the very nature of its existence. This intention grows manifold when the plot is that of a crime thriller and the story is being told to a police officer. But with a gem of a character at display, when Balaji Shakthivel chooses to paint layer after layer of purity, the treatment becomes enduring and uncalled for to say the least. Sure there could be reasons for emphasizing the innocence of the boy so as to mentally prepare the audience for the events that would happen at the end. But the sole purpose of a crime thriller is lost when you are moving away from the genre and start campaigning for the boy from the very first frame. Apart from these layers that keep painting the protagonist as whiter than white amongst the black background he dwells in, the body held camera used in the close up scenes and the background score, that could easily topple the bgms of tamil serial as the most drab bgm in recent time, successfully attenuate the desired effect that was intended.

VE18/9 isn’t just about one story. As I got relieved when the boy was dismissed after the hearing, a girl comes to the officer offering another story about the same case. It is the story of a girl whose adolescent whims and aspirations gets her trapped under the charm of a guileful boy. Unlike in the previous story, the girl doesn’t narrate the happenings to a great extent. When the boy offers her to come over for a chat in coffee shop, Balaji Shakthivel doesn’t use voice over to convey the girl’s thoughts; he doesn’t use her facial expressions as well. Instead he lets the girl rub her finger over the handle bar of her cycle to tell her hesitation and when she presses the handle one last time with pressure and removes her hand, we understand she has decided to give him a try. Such deftness throughout a film, displayed for a fleeting minute by Balaji here, has what made great filmmakers to be what they are now. Though Balaji doesn’t out do his best cinematic scene there on in the girl’s story, the subtlety and control he shows with the way the girl handles the betrayal, how she approaches her mother and the much needed positivity she brings to the screen is something to be proud of. With such understanding & skill in playwriting it puzzles me why Balaji resorts to imbecile level of writing in most of the 1^st half and with the way he portrayed the rich boy’s family.

Apart from all the negativities which kept deriding the film, when I came out after watching VE18/9 the one thing that haunted me was the content in itself. Like the powerful look of the poor girl which made the attendant let her stay on to be with her lover even after other inmates were forced to leave, a strong intent is a resilient force which will easily outwit all the mockers and reach for the softest spot in the heart.