Premam

Has there been another movie that has so polarised the Malayalam movie audience in recent times? Everyone seems to either love the movie, or hate it; of course, with the resounding success at the box office, hit music and the piracy row, it is all but impossible to ignore the movie. I am firmly in the category of the former, by the way.

Please note that this review contains spoilers galore!

Premam depicts the rather simple story of George (Nivin Pauly), and the three loves of his life – Mary (Anupama) from his teenage years at pre-degree, Malar (Sai Pallavi) from college, and Celin (Madonna Sebastian) who finally marries him.  Of course, at first glance, this but seems to be a rehash of Cheran’s Autograph. However, the film is much more than the story; it is all about the mood, the ambience, the characters and the language that inevitably serves up a set of nostalgic memories to anyone who has grown up in Kerala in the 90s. In a nutshell, it is about the manner of storytelling rather than the story. Also, Premam firmly avoids the path that other Malayalam campus love stories such as Daisy, Aniyathipravu, Niram, Chocolate etc. (with the honorable exceptions of Sarvakalashala and Classmates) have traditionally tread on by being firmly grounded and not succumbing to the usual traps of designer clothes, foreign locations and melodrama.

Premam also excels in getting the authenticity spot-on in every aspect. The whole set-up of the local tution class above the tea shop and the “vaya nokkis” (loosely translated to Female Admirers, but not of the lecherous variety) hovering downstairs rings completely true, as I am sure many of my female friends will vouch for. The local college fight, set to the catchy “Kalippu” (loosely translated to Confrontational, but not really) is just right. Puthren also seems to just let Sai Pallavi be, which results in a very, very natural and likeable Malar; her gestures and mannerisms are so naturally Tamilian (for example, when she corrects herself upon mistaking a kurta for a shirt). For the record, this is something I have always hated about Autograph; the spoken Malayalam in it was just terrible.

Puthren also is terrific at the staging of scenes. For example, the scene where George and his friends are waiting for Mary to get down from her tution class and they end up asking “kas kas” in their lime soda one by one with the camera caressing the whole creation of the lime soda could so easily have been filmed as just another regular scene with the 3 friends exchanging witticisms. Another conversational scene in the canteen during George’s college days follows a plate of “fish fry” being carried by a waiter to their table, rather than concentrating on the characters and their dialogues. And how perfect is the “Java” scene – every computer science engineer surely has attended at least a couple of inane classes like this in college.

On the performances front, Nivin Pauly leads the pack with a completely natural act even as he depicts 3 stages of George’s life, subtly altering his appearances and body language across each stage.  Nivin also exhibits a natural charm that had lead to all the unfair comparisons with the Mohanlal of yore. George’s breakdown as he walks away from an oblivious Malar is a standout scene. All the 3 debutante girls do a charming job, although Sai Pallavi does steal the thunder with her screen presence and expressive eyes. Vinay Fort deserves a special mention; as the naive but likeable Java professor who nurses a crush for Malar (and even sings a Tamil song for her), he is a riot. George’s gang of friends are completely realistic too, with the actors seldom resorting to melodrama.

In the end, Premam is a truimph of the director. The staging (as mentioned above) and the detailing clearly depcit that the screenplay is a labor of love. I loved how Puthren resorts to facial hair as the depiction of stages in the protagonists’ life (there is even an offhand remark in the first segment of how George has just had his “virgin shave”), reminding me of a “beard phase” we had in college ourselves (one of the few good memories from PG, let me add!). There is good old ribbing of the Malaylee mentality as George and his gang of friends rail and rant at various societal injustices to the common man, while trashing the abusive fiance (Puthren himself). I even thought there was a “meta” reference in how Puthren snorts coke in the movie (he is a “new age” director, you see!). Above all, in grounding the film to reality, Puthren succeeds in bring a “slice of life” flavor to movie; after a while I almost felt that I was hanging out with George and his gang myself and did not even notice the 3+ hours that the movie ran.

Verdict: Must Watch!

 

 

 

Pisasu: A Cindrella Story

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousand of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. 

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule. 

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk. 
…
In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition. 

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars. 

Myskin’s Pisasu contains a sequence where the antagonist – a violinist in Ilayaraaja’s troupe – emulates Joshua Bell, albeit in an attempt to assist a roadside beggar family (link). I am not sure if the piece above inspired Myskin, but to me the scene instantly reminded me of the article. The song itself is beautifully shot; the girl is leaning against a pillar inside a subway, Siddarth is leaning against a wall opposite her, and passengers keep crossing them from the left or the right. The camera almost seems to follow the hopeful gaze of the girl, tracking each passerby as they cross her.

In a departure from Myskin’s usual oeuvre, Pisasu deals not with the murkier elements of society, but with a ghost. Many of his usual themes do turn up though – the one-against- many fight, the lady in the yellow saree, the flower sellers and blind beggars, an accident with blood on the road, a character with hair that obscures his vision – but the overall subject deals with a benevolent ghost instead of criminals. The story can be summed up in a line – the spirit of a young woman killed in an accident takes up residence inside the hero’s flat, refuses to leave and is finally forced to. But what matters, as usual, is the why and the how.

*** Spoilers ahead ***

The first thing that struck me about the movie was its Cinderella theme. As Siddharth rushes Bhavani to the hospital, her foot with a slipper barely dangling on is in the frame, the other slipper lying lost at the scene of the accident. Later he takes care of the slipper as a keepsake. Bhavani is the daughter of a widower (an excellent Radha Ravi), who meets her “Prince Charming” as she loses a slipper. Afternoon cards, her spirit lives in the chimney – even appears covered in soot – and cleans up after Siddharth.

The other theme, I felt, was about domesticity and the all-suffering Indian wife. This is first depicted through the relationship of the couple downstairs. Even after being abused and beaten up, the wife sticks with her husband and even takes care of him after he receives his just comeuppance. This theme is then reestablished in the relationship of Siddharth and Bhavani; she takes care of him even when he is scared of her, even when he berates her…she’s with him despite everything.

And finally, the imagery the director puts in front of us is amazing. I already talked about the song, but what also stood out to me was the colors. In a way, the film came into being because of colors, after all. An important character is slyly nicknamed Pachai. Siddharth has a shiny red car. At a hospital, an orderly pushing a stretcher wears green scrubs. The only sensible witness to the accident talks to Siddharth while wearing a red saree, holding a green pot of water (that leaks). The revelatory scene features a basket of, what else, red and green apples. And – I loved this – in a “hint, hint” scene there is an inverted traffic signal, where green appears at the top instead of red…a hint within a hint, so to speak.

Frankly, there were quite a few aspects I did not get too. There’s a hint at the elements…An Ice vs. Fire kind of thing that I did not completely grasp. Then the appearance of the woman in the yellow saree glaring at the inspector…was she inhabited by the spirit of Bhavani and angry at the police for trivializing her father’s sorrow? There was also a great deal of fuss about burial vs. burning that had me stumped. These are aspects to look out during a repeat viewing, I guess.

To summarize: for me, this definitely features in the top 5 movies of 2014 and is one of Myskin’s best films, firmly establishing him as one of the best directors in the business today. I eagerly look forward to what he will do next.

A Tale of 3 Cousins

After Manjadikuru and Ustad Hotel, Anjali Menon is back with another tale of nostalgia. It is easy to imagine Bangalore Days as a grim, depressing film: the story of a bubbly girl trapped in a marriage with a husband who disapproves of almost everything she does, a discarded son who seems destined to be a failure, and a software engineer who is already stuck in a rut and hates his life. Certainly, someone like Shyamaprasad would have made a much darker film (Rithu, anyone?) out of this script. However Anjali Menon has opted for a lighter touch and carried it off remarkably well too.

Divya (Nazriya) is compelled into marriage by her parents. The pennukanal scene where Divya is forthright enough to declare that the unniyappams were not made by her and that only the dog eats them is mildly reminiscent of a similar scene from Ustad Hotel where the girl  makes a quiet but assertive statement – almost as if she were declaring that she has an independent mind too, notwithstanding the fuss around. However some of the scenes that follow with Das (Fahadh) follow a rather clinched theme, and with the negative picture of Das that is portrayed you can sense that redemption is soon to follow. However the redemption of Das is the highlight of the movie, and hence the predictable nature of this track does not impact the movie. I have to say that I also felt that the whole track followed a very Rebecca-like path, and the “spying” maid as a sort of Mrs. Danvers was totally hilarious.

Arjun (Dulqer) is the quintessential black sheep of the family – the one everyone points out and gossips about at family functions, and parents tell their children not to be like. A product of a broken home, he channels a lot of inner rage which inevitably breaks out at inopportune moments and has resulted in a temporary ban from one of the few things he enjoys – bike racing. This track is primarily about how Arjun comes to peace with himself. This is primarily through his interactions with Sarah (Parvathy Menon, in yet another impressive performance), a radio jockey who he initially admires for her ebullient personality and later falls in love with she he discovers that she is paraplegic. This was the best track of the movie for me, for the sheer thought the director has put into Arjun’s character. The annoying personality Arjun adopts when in conversation with authority figures hints at the vulnerability within; the fact that he has hidden the racing ban placed on him – yet another failure – from his cousins; the way he protects and leads his cousins in difficult situations (takes charge when Kuttan’s dad is ill, helps Divya when she is distraught, informs Divya about Das’s true past) hints at how much more adult he is despite being ofthe same age group); his passionate dislike of the military – all of that perfectly fits what Arjun would really be like.

The third track is probably the most crowd-pleasing one, but in many ways it is also perhaps the most thought provoking. Kuttan (Nivin Pauly) is a die-hard traditionalist; he believes firmly in the primacy of the “water, soil, and women” of Kerala. Already bored to death of his robotic existence as yet another IT employee (now, that struck a nerve!), Kuttan rushes home to Kerala at every given opportunity. However, Kuttan learns the hard way – through many hilarious scenes and deft directorial touches – that his thoughts may not have been right. His beloved homestead is being sold off as labor and maintenance is deemed too costly; a Malayalee girl with a “traditional name” turns out to a manipulator; above all his mother ditches her baggage of tradition and converts into a new-gen mom who holds kitty parties, sms-es in votes for reality shows and does laughter therapy. Despite all this, Kuttan holds steadfast to his ideals and eventually finds a life partner who respects the culture of his land much more than his peers. The underlying social commentary is but obvious; what this track also does is build up and then break down conventions, perceptions, and stereotypes; the best example of this is the letter from “Gaya” that Kuttan’s dad sends.

Das’s story is part of Divya’s too; however there are some neat touches to the characterisation that deserve a special mention. Das opens up much more with Divya at the initial pennukaanal scene once the dog is brought in, and later on we see why. His reaction to finding Divya driving a bike on the highway is also made clear once his past is divulged. His carefully controlled reactions to Arjun also make sense; however I would have loved to see a bit of envy from Das reflected in their interactions…It is to Fahadh’s credit that he makes the most of a truly one-dimensional role. The only jarring note in the performance was in the flashback sequence, where Fahadh looked altogether too amiable and deferential to be the kind of rock star that he was supposed to be.

Despite the large star cast, this is a director’s movie alright. Anjali Menon once again proves that she is one of our finest today, although her pet theme of the trials and tribulations of the members of a large family is getting to be a repetitious theme. As I had remarked earlier, many of her scenes – especially at the tharavadu – reminded me of passages from Arundhati Roy’s God of Small Things. Notwithstanding the difference in tone that the creators adopt, both of them display the same innate understanding of the Kerala society and tharavadu / koottu kudumbam politics. I, for one, am eagerly waiting to see what she does next.

Ra.One – Bullet Point Report

• All the scenes involving Ra.One – except for the climax – are well executed. Sadly, the movie has other scenes too.
• This has to be one of the worst opening sequences in any film, ever.
  Its official; SRK should not ever do long hair again (unless he plays Lizardman or something similarly reptile-like).
• The special appearances are yawn inducing. Rajnikanth looks old and haggard – did Red Chillies run out of money to apply the Photoshop touchups ;)?
• What is it with SRK and Tamilian spoofs? He did a terrible one is OSO, and the one here is only marginally better – at least, in terms of Tamil dialogues (expecting the right accent is too much, I guess). The noodles scene was gross, though.
• The child acts reasonably well; just the fact that his emotions registered under that hideous wig says a lot.
• Kareena is terrible here – reminds one of her Khushi days. The sole saving grace is the “Chammak Challo” number. She still delivers that one moment, where she turns and smiles with the red in her eyes.
• After Cash and Ra.One, it is evident that Anubhav Sinha should stop doing any kind of humor and concentrate only on songs & action sequences. Designing video games would be a good career option as well, IMHO.
• As for SRK, he tries hard to make the movie work, but succeeds only to some extent. As the bumbling game developer, he is a bit endearing despite the hamming and the Tamil stereotyping etc – especially in the sequences where he tries to reach out to his son. However he screws up G.One by playing him as a mixture of Terminator II and Rahul.
• It is when you watch the forced humor here that you get to appreciate what someone like Karan Johar can do with his screenplay and dialogue-writing skills.
• SRK seems to be alluding to the rumors of his being bisexual as he cups Kareena’s breast and Arjun’s balls – both scenes were downright silly.
• To me, Ra.One was marginally better than Krish and Drona, as it seemed to be spoofing itself most of the time. However, it isn’t even in the same planet as Enthiran. To put things in perspective, Ra.One is sort of the like the mosquito episode in Enthiran.

7-am Arivu: Bullet Point Report

• 7-am Arivu is Surya’s “Dasavatharam”, and I certainly do not mean that as a compliment. The first 20 minutes is paisa-vasool; but the next 2 hours provide several cringe-worthy moments that almost make you forget the first half.
• The Chinese song sounds so much like “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star…” . Did Bodhidharman introduce this song to the world too? Just asking ;).
• The whole circus background was so unnecessary. I initially thought Murugadoss was trying for some parallel to “Apoorva Sahodarargal” , but alas – or perhaps thankfully – not.
• After the movie I thought this was the 3rd superhero movie during Diwali – for Shruti Hassan could do genetic engineering, history research, ride an elephant, take up cudgels on behalf of Thamizh culture, distract museum guards, pontificate about cancer…wow!
• Except for the Bodhidharman portions, this was a disappointing performance by Surya – especially considering that he generally manages to impress even in a masala flick like “Singham”.
• It’s final. Shruti is not – NOT – a chip off the old block. She deserves full marks for trying though – very earnest:).
• Murugadoss finds a kick-ass villain, and still botches it up big time. First he overdoes the hypnotism bit until the audience groans at the umpteenth hypnotism sequence. Then he does it all over again with the zombie portions. I am sure both ideas sounded great one paper (and they do work well for while), but end up being poorly executed.
• Music sucks, especially the BGM.
• At the end of the movie, I fantasized about substituting Surya and Shruti with Vijaykanth and Namitha; the quality of the climax was firmly in “Dharmapuri” area by then. The scene where Shruti berates the scientists for not talking in Tamil was a major contributing factor in this assessment as well.
• If Aamir Khan remakes this, I’d really like to see what he concocts out of this mess of a movie.

Favorite Nazi Movies

The first week of October is historically significant, for it marked the first crack in the wall for the Nazi regime (Naples fell to the Allies on Oct I, and marked the beginning of the end). I wanted to take this as an inspiration on some of my favorite Nazi movies.

Saving Private Ryan: A Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg collaboration, this one was an absolute masterpiece. The first 15-20 minutes were absolute cinematic genius.

Downfall: This German movie depicts the last days of Hitler holed up in his bunker, and his deterioration from a in-control leader to a spluttering, ineffective old man. Bruno Ganz provides an acting masterclass in the lead role. Also, this is a heavily researched move – several quotes are used.

Schindler’s List: Steven Spielberg goes against type in this brilliant cinematic depiction of Oskar Schindler’s life, as he saves the lives of over a 1000 Jewish/Polish refugees during the war.

Life is Beautiful: A “haunting comedy” based on Jewish persecution during WWII is perhaps the only way one could describe this movie – but mere words do not mete out justice to this masterpiece. Roberto Benigni stars and directs.

American History X: Not a Nazi movie in the strictest sense of the word (although it does involve Neo Nazism), this is more a commentary on white supremacy and bigotry. Ed Norton mesmerizes in a performance that is perhaps his greatest to date (which is a great compliment in itself).

Inglorious Basterds: Only Quentin Tarantino could spin a yarn as far-fetched as this one, and actually pull it off. Christopher Waltz is suitably menacing as Hans Landa, and there are enough dialogues to drive Tarantino fans (such as myself) into raptures.

The Great Dictator: Charlie Chaplin. Enough said.

Boys from Brazil: A truly fantastic plot (saying any more will be a desservice to those who have not read this book); the book by Ira Levin is also a fantastic read.

Conversation with a Saint: Bullet Point Report

• “Pranchiyettan …” is, I believe, director Ranjit giving the finger to those who had labeled him a “Hinduvta” director after a series of movies such as Devasuram, Ravanaprabhu, Nandanam, Prajapathy etc.
• There have been several movies based on the Kottayam Christian milieu; however movies set in Thrissur are rare. Other than Padmarajan’s Thoovanathumbikal, I can remember no other movie that has used the town and its slang as an important facet in the movie.
• It is refreshing that the movie has no “villains”. Siddhique is portrayed as Pranchi’s main rival, but Ranjit has resisted the temptation of having either the hero or villain import a dozen ruffians from several different places, and indulge in an outlandish fight sequence.
• The whole bit about hints around the hypocritical lives lead by Siddhique and Khushboo was uncalled for – a cheap shot, really. Could Pranchi not find his happiness even as his childhood sweetheart and her husband lived happily too?
• The whole speech sequence was awesome. It reminded me a bit of the iconic “balatkaar” sequence from “3 Idiots”; but the one in “Pranchiyettan…” was more about the fear of public speaking.
• The whole concept of “Padmashree-chasing” was a riot. Ranjit clearly has a ball here, with digs at all and sundry.
• Jagathy could have been avoided. He added absolutely nothing to the movie, and did nothing new (other than demonstrate a few Yoga poses) either.
• Finally, what does one say of Mammootty? This amazing performance is most un-Mammootty-like; in fact it is almost Mohanlal-esque, except for the spotless Thrissur slang (which I think Mohanlal could not have quite managed). We all know that Mammootty excels in statuesque roles, but to see him excel as the self-deprecating Pranchi reminds us that the veteran still has unexplored depths. More innovative scripts please!

More Sequels – Malayalam Cinema

The dearth of interesting story lines in Malayalam cinema continues. As a result, there are more sequels being planned in Mollywood:

Pranchiyettan vs. Manickyam: Mammootty in an exciting double role re-enacting his memorable roles from the two blockbusters. A special wig has been ordered from Washington D.C.

Osama: Major Ravi exposes how the real Osama assassination went down in 2011. The focus of the story is Brigadier Mahadevan (Mohanlal), who had personally assisted the US SEAL team in bringing down the fugitive, but ended up losing credit in the end.

CBI Umpteen: K.Madhu, S.N.Swamy, and Mammootty reunite to reprise Sethurama Iyer, one of the most memorable characters of Malayalam cinema.

Indhuchoodan: Amal Neerad brings back the iconic Indhuchoodan. Alphonse is doing a re-mixed version of the Narasimham theme music that is being rendered by Jassie Gift.

Ormayundo Ee Mukham: Suresh Gopi is back as Bharatchandran I.P.S, the character that elevated his career. Renji Panicker directs, and promises a thriller that reflects the latest political happenings in Kerala.

Rajavinte Makan: Shaji Kailas remakes this Mohanlal classic with Prithviraj in the lead.

20-80: Prithviraj Sukumaran stars and produces the sequel to 20-20, and re-unites the entire Malayalam film industry. Dileep will appear in a special item number sung by Aditya Narayan as an additional attraction. The great-grandfather of Malayalam cinema, Mr. Joshiiee, will be directing the sequel as well.

Tees Maar Khan – Review

Much has been talked about of SRK’s split with Farah Khan (heck, SRK even did one of his famous quivering eyebrows teary-eyed act on Koffee with Karan that predictably had Karan sniffing and shedding a few tears of his own – one of the more nauseating television acts I have had the misfortune of seeing), but if all of Farah’s future films are going to be scripted / lifted by her husband, then SRK has probably done the right thing. Kitsch as they might be, MHN and OSO were smart, and had some genuinely funny moments. TMK has (maybe) one LOL moment, and predictably this is a scene without Akshay Kumar in it. But then, even SRK could not have salvaged TMK. SRK definitely has the last laugh here.

The first 10 minutes are fun, and that is about it. The next 2.5 hours leave you reeling with the agony of watching an impossibly painful movie. Don’t believe me? Take one of those mindless Priyadarsan remakes (Hungama, Hulchul etc); multiply the inanity and screaming by around 75%, and substitute Paresh Rawal (who for all his faults can definitely conjure up at least a grin in an hour) with a bunch of un-funny non-actors – you would pretty much get something similar to TMK.

For a non-actor, Akshay Kumar has had a pretty good run at Bollywood. However, he needs to select his scripts with better care. A smart-aleck act and a gummy smile can only be tolerated so far; a few slick action flicks are the want of the day. Frankly, AK is intolerable in TMK.

Katrina Kaif looks hot, and acts as if she is acting badly – not that she has to try too hard. However, all is forgiven with the Sheila Ki Jawani number. Akshaye Khanna hams it up to the hilt; he makes the most of what is really a role meant for Johny Lever. Arya Babbar looks interesting. The rest of the cast deserve to be spoken about (nay abused) in the filthiest of epithets.

Farah Khan has clearly lost her edge; perhaps she cannot do a film that is not a Bollywood spoof. At the very least, she should desist from any future collaboration with her husband (for films!), and write her own scripts. Eating humble pie and teaming up with SRK again would probably be a terrific idea as well.

Verdict: DO.NOT.WATCH.

Bhramaram (A Circular Journey): Review

After the disappointing “Calcutta News”, Blessy bounces back into some semblance of form with “Bhramaram”. Although “Bhramaram” is certainly not up to the high standards set by the director’s own “Kazhcha” and “Thanmatra”, it is nevertheless an interesting watch ably shouldered by a burly Mohanlal.

From the time Mohanlal (Jose albeit Sivankutty) lands up at stockbroker Unni’s doorstep at Coimbatore, there is an air of foreboding about “Bhramaram”. Lal’s furtive glances and expressions add to the suspense. The movie proceeds on more or less a familiar path, until that stage of the film which reveals that Unni is about to embark upon the journey of his life with Sivankutty – not exactly the most amenable of companions. It is post-intermission that the movie comes on to its own, and hurtles toward the inevitable tragic climax.

*** Spoilers ahead ***
“Bhramaram” falters mainly in its pace. For one, character development is long drawn, and not particularly effective. For instance, Blessy hammers in again and again the fact that Sivankutty loves kids (as if Mohanlal would play a paedophile in a mainstream Malayalam film). In a similar fashion, there is a completely unnecessary sequence involving a run-in with truck drivers – that whole segment ought to have been edited out. The first half of the film totters about with no real aim (except maybe to “tell” the audience again and again that Mohanlal is playing an eccentric, unpredictable character) while the second half is fairly eventful. Worst of all, the sudden “guilt-attack” and subsequent confession looks awfully forced and hurried – almost as if the producer cracked the whip or something! My gut tells me that “Bhamaram” would have worked awfully better as a true road move, with a firm editor holding the scissors. Bharathan’s “Thazhvarom” is an excellent example of a film in a similar genre being handled in a much more controlled manner.

In the end, it is once again Mohanlal who hoists the film to a different level altogether. His burly demeanor, furtive body language, and expressive eyes convey a lot more than most of his dialogues, making them redundant. Mohanlal gets completely into the skin of the eccentric Sivankutty, except during the silly flashback where everybody hams (especially the irritating kid). Suresh Menon does a good job – a very effective foil to Mohanlal.

Verdict: Mohanlal makes this a must-watch, especially as interesting movies from him seem to be becoming extinct.