Release date:
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July 21, 2017
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Director:
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Aneesh Anwar
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Cast:
Language:
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Farhaan Faasil,
Sana Althaf, Renjini Jose, Manikandan Achari, Sheela, Madhu, Joy Mathew,
Sivaji Guruvayoor, Aju Varghese, Sooraj Harris, Sunil Sukhada
Malayalam
|
Basheerinte Premalekhanam (Basheer’s Love
Letter) harks back to the days when televisions were not ubiquitous in India,
when the only house in the neighbourhood with a TV or a radio (not as we know
it right now, but those boxy thingies, remember them?) would become a social
hub even in an urban locality, and when the absence of cellphones and limited
availability of telephone landlines made forbidden romances a far greater
struggle than they are today.
The story is set in
a Kerala village in the 1980s, when the arrival of a TV from the Gelf becomes a
talking point in the entire community. Usman (Manikandan Achari) sends one as a
gift to the home of the haughty Hussain Haji (Joy Mathew), father of Suhra
(Sana Althaf) who has been promised to him in marriage.
Hajiyaar’s radio
has already made his home a star attraction in the area. From the first moment
the screen of his new Onida TV comes alive with moving visuals, the locals are
hooked. The radio is relegated to the interiors of the house while everyone
gathers on the balcony each day now to watch films, sports and Chitrageet on the electronic miracle
that one of them describes as a radio with pictures and a devout fellow
resident labels a “cheythaanpetti”
(satanic box).
Basheer (Farhaan
Faasil), a tech-savvy polytechnic pass-out, becomes a mini neighbourhood celeb
when he does the job of setting up the cheythaanpetti.
He falls for Suhra, but of course her situation is complicated.
Basheerinte Premalekhanam is about the
hurdles they face in their romance while the goings-on around them – party
politics, the battle over a bridge that needs to be built, religiosity and more
– provide a peek into the world as it was back then. The title is as much a
reference to Vaikom Muhammad Basheer as it is to the hero of the film, since
the latter plagiarises the celebrated Malayalam writer’s novel Premalekhanam to impress Suhra.
The opening 20
minutes or so of the film are pleasant. The set-up is promising, as director
Aneesh Anwar hits the nail on the head with the tone, look and detailing,
including the visuals accompanying the opening credits, injecting humour and
nostalgia into his deliberately kinda-over-the-top narrative. At that point, to
all appearances, Basheerinte
Premalekhanam looks set to be an entertaining, slightly farcical
representation of a time when technology had less of a role in our lives, when
the current information and entertainment overload had not yet invaded our
collective existence and when attention spans were not as limited as they are
now, so that a phenomenon like the Onida devil could be the talk of the town
for months.
Gradually though,
what emerges on screen proves to be of limited depth, and the film settles into
a lack of freshness and spark that it does not recover from. Even the nostalgia
ride into the 1980s does not go far enough. For instance, for a film that
features so much of Doordarshan-watching from back then, it is almost
unforgivable that DD’s signature tune – a cultural fixture in those days – is
not played even once with the logo. I missed it.
The only thing that
remains pleasing from start to finish is Sanjay Harris’ camerawork, which seems
purposefully
not to capture the magnificence of the Kerala
landscape, opting instead for its beautiful niches, thickly green corners and
wooded country lanes.
Like director Jis
Joy’s Sunday Holiday last week, it is
clear that Aneesh Anwar too is aiming at giving us a slice of life, even if he frames Basheerinte within farce. Whatever Sunday Holiday’s failings
may have been, it had more content than this one, plus it had Aparna
Balamurali’s pizzazz and Asif Ali’s sweetness going for it. Farhaan Faasil,
whose second film this is, remains as uncharismatic here as he was on debut in Njan Steve Lopez (2014). This Faasil –
brother of Fahadh, son of director Fazil – does not even have age for an
excuse, as his leading lady does. Sana Althaf is about a decade his junior and
can do little to rev up an ordinarily written part.
The
legendary Madhu’s grace and dignity, on the other hand, fill the screen with
warmth every time he comes on as Suhra’s late grandfather, the watchful sutradhar and guardian angel of the
narrative. Not that his role is any better written than the rest. It is
intriguing at first but does not go anywhere, but Madhu… well, Madhu is always
just really nice to watch, now and forever, Amen.
Another
legend, Sheela, does not do half as well in her over-cutesified role as Suhra’s
spirited, supportive grandmother. To be fair, any star would most likely have
struggled with a screenplay that requires the old lady to be amused and charmed
on seeing a creepy chappie – namely, Basheer – removing rooftiles to peep into
her granddaughter’s bedroom. Ewwww!
This is not
the only instance of questionable behaviour towards a woman being normalised
and humourised in Basheerinte, but
then that is all in a day’s work for most Malayalam commercial cinema. At one
point in the film, when a man says he does not drink from used glasses, a
listener concludes aloud that the man’s runaway girlfriend then clearly does
not stand a chance with him.
For me,
Sheela and Madhu will always be Karuthamma and Pareekutty from Chemmeen, my all-time favourite
Malayalam film. Oddly enough, despite having cast the two stalwarts as a married
couple, Basheerinte does not give
them a single scene together, unless you count a blink-and-you-might-miss-it
joint appearance in a song.
Manikandan Achari
has a much smaller role than Faasil and steals the show from right under the
titular hero’s nose. It is a pleasure to see him play a character as different
from the iconic Balan in 2016’s Kammattipaadam
– his calling card so far – or even the simpleton Murugan in the lesser known Ayal Jeevichiruppundu (2017), as chalk
is from paneer. There are those who felt that Achari was credited for great
acting when all he did was play himself in Kammattipaadam.
I disagreed back then, but it is still a relief to get proof of his versatility
and a reaffirmation of his genuine talent in this film. The tenderness Achari
brings to his character Usman is the closest this film comes to being worth the
price of a ticket.
That said, even
Achari and Madhu cannot save Basheerinte
Premalekhanam from its overall limpness. It is not unbearable or any such
thing, what it is is blah.
Rating
(out of five stars): *1/2
CBFC Rating (India):
|
U
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Running time:
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This
review has also been published on Firstpost:
Poster
courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/BasheerintePremalekhanam2017/
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