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Release
date:
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Kerala: June 5,
2019
Delhi: June 21, 2019
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Director:
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Ashraf
Hamza
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Cast:
Language:
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Vinay Forrt,
Divyaprabha, Grace Antony, Chinnu Chandni, Navas, Arun Kurian
Malayalam
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In one of the
earliest seasons of the iconic American TV sitcom Friends, Chandler Bing’s gang learns that he has a third nipple.
Many episodes later, Chandler hesitates to date a woman with a wooden leg but
overcomes his mindblock only to find himself rejected by her when she feels
grossed out on discovering what he calls his “nubbin”.
The boisterous
comedy of Friends is a world away
from the sublimeness of Thamaasha,
but that episode in Chandler’s life came to mind with good reason as I watched
Sreenivasan Masha’s first meeting with Chinnu in this new Malayalam film.
Sreenivasan is a soft-spoken college professor with a complex about his
premature baldness, Chinnu is a supremely confident youngster who is aware of
people’s attitude to overweight women but does not allow anyone to eclipse her
sunshine smile. He knows what it is to face prejudice, yet while speaking with
her on the phone at a point when she is a stranger to him, he unwittingly
reveals his own bias (Minor spoiler
ahead) when she guides him to the spot where she is waiting for their rendezvous,
and he replies: “But I see only a fat girl standing there.” Sreenivasan
crumbles with embarrassment on realising that the woman on the other end of the
line is the very woman he just casually labelled, when she replies quietly:
“That’s me.” (Spoiler alert ends)
Thamaasha does not let anyone off the hook easily, it does
not paint its sweetly likeable hero as a victim without blemishes, and it feels
incredibly real. Debutant director Ashraf Hamza’s film stars Vinay Forrt as
Sreenivasan Masha (teacher), a socially awkward, shy Malayalam prof who is anxious to
be married but cannot find a woman who will accept him, baldness and all. On
the advice of his friend Raheem (played by Navas), he decides to seek out a
bride among the women he meets professionally and socially. Meanwhile,
his family’s efforts to find a match for him continue. His stumbling attempts
to get a wife lead to amusing encounters with Gayathri Teacher (Divyaprabha),
Safiya (Grace Antony) and Chinnu (Chinnu Chandni).
Jointly produced by
Malayalam cinema stalwarts Sameer Thahir, Shyju Khalid, Lijo Jose Pellissery
and Chemban Vinod Jose, Thamaasha is
the antithesis of the sort of commercial Indian cinema that is packed with
crass wisecracks about obesity, shortness, baldness, skin colour and other
cutting personal remarks. This film is about people who are the targets of such
cruel comedy on screen and in real life.
Thamaasha is reportedly a remake of the 2017 Kannada film Ondu Motteya Kathe directed by Raj B.
Shetty. It is a tribute to the original, which got excellent reviews when it
was released, that the Malayalam adaptation is heartwarming, funny, intelligent
and unusual.
That Thamaasha has a point to make is evident
right from the start, but far from being a lecture, it is a pleasant slice of
life in contemporary Kerala and a character study of Sreenivasan and Chinnu, offering moments of great humour along with
its valuable lessons.
Sameer Thahir’s
camerawork is as thoughtful as the overall tone of the film and as unassuming as
the leading man. The quality of cinematography in Malayalam cinema as a whole
is top notch and a constant aching reminder of the magnificence of God’s Own
Country for those of us who live elsewhere. Instead of sweeping panoramic views
and high aerial shots that bring out the luxuriant greens, blues and reds of
the natural landscape, Thahir opts for comparative smallness of scale and less
familiar sights, managing to showcase the attractiveness of Sreenivasan Masha’s surroundings even while retaining the film’s
intimate feel.
Hamza’s writing of
the protagonist and Chinnu are impeccable, and the two actors live
their characters as if this is who they have always been.
FTII graduate Vinay
Forrt’s most high-profile performance till date was as Malar Miss’s suitor
Vimal Sir in Alphonse Puthren’s 2015 blockbuster Premam. In the tiniest of parts in this month’s megaproject Unda, he managed to make a mark. There
is another role that does not get talked about as much in the media, but I
thoroughly enjoyed his turn as a hot-headed policeman in Shanavas K.
Bavakutty’s Kismath (2016). Every
iota of acting excellence he has achieved so far recedes into the background in
the face of his utter genius as Sreenivasan Masha.
The Everymanness of
Sreenivasan, the Malayaliness of him, the diffidence, the clean
heart, the traditionalism that exists contiguous to his modern thinking in some
matters, the manner in which he metamorphoses into a passionate being when
discussing a literary text in the classroom – it is impossible to place a
finger on exactly what he does to embody each of these aspects of his
character, because he does it with a subtlety that should make its way to
cinema studies texts.
The find of Thamaasha is pretty newcomer Chinnu Chandni who has played satellite roles in other films but
is pushed to the foreground – deservedly so – with this one. Bless you, Ashraf
Hamza for envisioning her screen namesake as a bright, self-assured, positive
woman, yet not turning her into the manically energetic but hollow, bubbly
cliché of a heroine seen ad nauseam in commercial Indian cinema. The actor
gives Chinnu depth and maturity without diluting her cheery personality in any
way.
The cast member who
is let down by the screenplay is Divyaprabha playing Sreenivasan’s colleague Gayathri. She is good to the extent that she
is allowed to be by the writing of the only character that is given such short
shrift by Hamza’s imagination. (Minor
spoiler ahead) There is a moment in the film where Sreenivasan drops her like a hot brick for reasons I will not go
into. While his hesitation to continue his association with her is in keeping
with who he is, the film’s complete disinterest in her thereafter is
disappointing. It is as though she is irrelevant once she is off the male protagonist’s
radar, never mind her own emotions and opinions on the situation. That she is
not entirely unaffected by his behaviour is implied by a fleeting expression on
her face when he later mistakenly plays a voice message from another woman
while she is within earshot. (Spoiler
alert ends)
This passage in an
otherwise charming film is a sad pointer to the unfortunate truth that although
Malayalam’s ongoing parallel cinema movement does offer women many strong roles
in contrast with the marginalisation of women in mainstream
megastar-driven projects, this movement too predominantly tells stories of
men from a male point of view and equality of representation is
yet to be achieved even in this relatively enlightened space.
Among the rest of
the supporting cast, Grace Antony is spot-on as the object of a mighty
misunderstanding in Sreenivasan
Masha’s muddled head. Once the confusion
surrounding her is sorted out, if you rewind her performance you will see how
accurate she was in every frame.
Navas is a firecracker
as the hero’s best friend. I felt slightly uncomfortable though with the scene
in which his character introduces his wife to Sreenivasan. The equivalence
being implied there between her, Chinnu and Sreenivasan
is the only point of overstatement in the film. Hey, we got it already. Why
underline it with a thick red pen?
Arun Kurian’s
brooding intensity works well for his role as Sreenivasan’s good-looking younger brother.
The reason why Thamaasha
works so well is because its messaging is couched in amusing, endearing,
relatable realism. There are several lines and moments that linger long after
the last credit has rolled off the screen, but my favourite of the lot comes
from Raheem who turns an old stereotypical notion on its head when he suggests
that the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach with these words, “If served nicely, there are only two things no one can turn down, Mashe –
affection/love and food.” In a week when a Hindi film has resurrected one of
the most repugnant stalker lovers Telugu cinema has ever created, this is such
a gentle, refreshingly non-aggressive statement by which to remember this
genteel sample of Malayalam cinema.
Rating (out
of five stars): ***1/2
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CBFC Rating (India):
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U
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Running time:
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120 minutes
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This review has also been published on Firstpost:
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