REVIEW 755: MAMANGAM

Release date:	December 12, 2019
Director:	M. Padmakumar
Cast: Language:	Mammootty, Unni Mukundan, Achuthan, Prachi Tehlan, Kaniha, Maala Parvathi, Anu Sithara, Siddique, Tarun Arora, Iniya, Kaviyoor Ponnamma, Manikandan Achari, Sudev Nair Malayalam (Dubbed versions in Tamil, Telugu and Hindi have also been released. This is a review of the original Malayalam film.)

Art does not exist in a vacuum. The socio-political context in which it has been created lends it layers and meaning it may not have when viewed in isolation. So, as violence erupts in India’s North-east following the passage of the Citizenship Amendment Bill 2019 in Parliament, beef-related lynchings no longer provoke public outrage on the scale witnessed when Mohammed Akhlaq was murdered in Dadri in 2015, and large sections of the citizenry this month have been cheering what they consider an extra-judicial killing by the Telangana police, a pacifist film assumes great significance. It becomes especially crucial when that film casts one of India’s biggest stars as a character asking his people to give peace a chance.

This is why Mamangam: History of the Brave is impossible to ignore. Directed by M. Padmakumar, the film features Malayalam megastar Mammootty as a legendary warrior from Kerala who turns his back on violence when he becomes convinced of its pointlessness. 

Mammootty here plays Chandroth Valiya Panicker whose community is embroiled in a long-running blood feud with the ruling Saamoothiris a.k.a. Zamorins. In a bid to assassinate the incumbent monarch, these Kalari maestros have been targeting the extravagant Mamangan fair that takes place every 12 years on the banks of the Bharathappuzha river.

When the film opens, a voiceover explains the background to this enmity. The narrative then plunges into a bloody battle between Valiya Panicker’s band of fighters and the Zamorin’s forces at a Mamangam fair in the late 17th century. Cut to 24 years later when Chandroth Panicker (Unni Mukundan) informs his family that the Goddess appeared to him and instructed him to attend the upcoming Mamangam. His wife (Anu Sithara) and mother (Maala Parvathi) are just recovering from the shock when, much to their dismay, his adoloscent nephew Chanthunni (Achuthan) announces that he too has been similarly guided by the Devi.

As the two young men journey towards their fate, on a parallel track the Zamorin’s representative (played by Siddique) is shown investigating the mysterious disappearance of one of the king’s agents from the abode of the courtesan Unnimaaya (Prachi Tehlan).

The link between the two threads is Valiya Panicker.

This is a story with immense potential. As north Indian cinema increasingly celebrates violence and cashes in on the  hyper-nationalism dominating the public discourse, it reflects well on Malayalam cinema that it has not followed suit. Mamangam chooses to defy the bloodlust of the off-screen mob.

Thematic relevance, courage and sensitivity are not enough to hold up an entire film though when the writing is shallow and the storytelling style dull. These twin problem areas combined with action scenes and visual effects that are a mixed bag end up pulling down Mamangam.

It is all very well to show Valiya Panicker denouncing bloodshed, but the only way the messaging could have been effective is if we had been taken along on his inner travels. Sadly, the screenplay fails to satisfactorily explain how or why enlightenment struck him. One day he is driving swords into the Zamorin’s soldiers, and the next time we see him he is questioning the purpose of this seemingly never-ending hatred that has claimed numerous lives.

Even the conversations sound stiff. There is incessant talk about the wombs that have borne children only to give them up to this bloodletting. The women of the hero’s clan, in fact, speak of little but that. They though are better off than the courtesans who are given nothing much to do but gaze at the men with inexplicable expressions. In fact at one point in the narrative, as Valiya Panicker and Chanthunni chat while working together on a mural, Unnimaaya is present throughout their exchange but all she does is stare, then stare again, and then stare some more. I mean c’mon, Prachi Tehlan is pretty and has a curvaceous body showcased here in elegant minimal clothing, but considering that she serves little purpose in Mamangam beyond her visual appeal, the producers may as well have stuck her poster on one half of the screen during that scene instead of bothering to rope in a live human being for the role.

While on the subject of spectacle, the production design is one of the nicest technical aspects of this film. Both Unnimaaya’s residence and the Mamangam festival are bathed in a warm glow, drawing on a rich palette dominated by a tasteful blend of gold, cream and reds. The costumes share this colour scheme. Whether they are authentic to the period is for historians to say, but they are certainly easy on the eye.

The camerawork in Mamangam though is surprisingly lacklustre, and unable to capture the famed natural beauty of Kerala. This is odd since cinematography is one of contemporary Malayalam cinema’s great strengths.

The stunts, which should have been Mamangam’s USP, are unevenly executed. While wide swathes of the  action choreography are certainly impressive and had me on edge, the gravity-defying leaps taken by Valiya Panicker and Chanthunni lack fluidity, a fluidity that has been summoned up often enough in earlier depictions of Kalari on the Indian screen. When they fly, they look like images being manipulated on a computer rather than actual people.

The only characters in Mamangam that have some flesh are all men. It is unforgivable that gifted women like Anu Sithara have been cast in this film and wasted. Not that the men do much with the space they gave been given. Mammootty is the only actor who draws something out of his role, but given that the writing does not at all look within Valiya Panicker, there is only so much he can do. Still, it is important to note that in an avatar of his character where he is required to alter his body language and posture in favour of what is popularly considered effeminacy, he is measured and avoids caricature. Moreover, in an industry notorious for male stars who have not bothered to stay fit and maintain their physiques, he is the only one of his contemporaries who could possibly have suited this role.

Mamangam’s release has been preceded by a series of controversies more dramatic than the film itself. Director M. Padmakumar’s last film Joseph is still memorable for its ruminative air and Joju George’s career-defining performance. In Mamangam he is unable to fully exploit either his leading man’s brilliance or the large budget for which this film has made news.

Still, Mamangam is hardly the worst end Mammootty could have asked for in a year that has been elevated by his smashing performances in Peranbu (Tamil) and Unda (Malayalam). At least he does not romance a woman young enough to be his daughter in Mamangam as he does in too many of his films, and despite the pale writing he manages to leave his mark on the role. Most important though, at a time when many Indian male superstars are playing along with a murderous public frenzy over community and country pervading contemporary India, it means a lot to watch Mammootty head in the opposite direction.

 

Rating (out of 5 stars): 2

CBFC Rating (India):	UA
Running time:	156 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/mamangam-movie-review-mammoottys-much-needed-call-to-peace-falls-victim-to-shallow-writing-7777641.html

Visuals courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/MamangamOfficial/

REVIEW 742: AADYA RATHRI

Release date:	Kerala: October 4, 2019 Delhi: November 1, 2019
Director:	Jibu Jacob
Cast: Language:	Biju Menon, Anaswara Rajan, Aju Varghese, Sarjano Khalid, Pauly Valsan, Vijayaraghavan, Sreelakshmi, Cameo: Anu Sithara Malayalam

An openly misogynistic film. Sub-conscious misogyny from a filmmaker who actually considers himself feminist. Or closeted misogyny from a filmmaker publicly faking feminism. Aadya Rathri fits into one of the above three slots. Which one, is the question.

Aadya Rathri or First Night is headlined by Biju Menon, a fine actor whose inconsistent filmography shows a seeming lack of discernment. Just this year he was the lead in the darling Sathyam Paranja Vishwasikkuvo shortly after Mera Naam Shaji, which was so viscerally antagonistic towards women that it was unnerving. Menon’s new film purportedly puts across the message that a woman’s assent should be given primacy over all else when families, brokers and communities seal marriage deals. The catch is that the road to that life lesson is lined with sexist humour and a trivialisation of marital rape – not just by the character who is reformed in the end, but in the tone of the film itself. And that’s not counting the ageist casting in Aadya Rathri.

Menon here plays Manoharan, a marriage broker who doubles up as a moral policeman to terror-struck couples in the village of Mullakkara. When the film cuts from his youth to the present day, he has been arranging marital alliances for 22 years and boasts of a 100 per cent success rate. His arch rival Thresiamma (Ee.Ma.Yau’s Pauly Valsan) has been gunning for him for as long as he has been in the business. His big test comes when he is called upon to find a match for Aswathy Ramachandran a.k.a. Achchu (Anaswara Rajan), a college-goer from a prominent family.

A bulk of Aadya Rathri is devoted to the hurdles Manoharan must cross to find a husband for Achchu. The film meanders considerably, but swatches of humour keep it going till the interval, and well, Menon has the ability to evoke laughter with just a twitch of a muscle, a twinkle in his eye or a word. Post-interval though, none of this is enough.

The leading man’s innate acting skills and immense charisma combined with a moral position taken by the film towards the end cannot possibly compensate for all its narrative weaknesses, the under-utilisation of a fine supporting cast, lack of novelty in the treatment and confused politics.

Despite running barely over 2 hours, Aadya Rathri feels too long. It does not help that a couple of its songs spring up instead of blending smoothly into the proceedings. And a conventional fable-like, moral-of-the-story structure cannot work if storytellers unwittingly reveal their deep-seated illiberal true colours from the start.

In an episode right after the credits, a bride tells Manoharan’s sidekick that she is not yet ready because the beautician has not arrived although the hour of her wedding is closing in on them. He finds the beautician doing up her mother’s face and makes a terribly ageist comment about Mum. Filmmakers when confronted with questions about such scenes often argue that they are merely depicting a reality, not glorifying it. In this case that would amount to claiming that a sexist character was portrayed cracking a sexist joke to illustrate the regressive nature of the society in which this story is set. No excuses please, there is no ambiguity here – that scene is designed as comedy.

Marital rape too is tapped as a source of amusement in Aadya Rathri, except that it is not considered rape at all. A man incessantly impregnates his wife against her will, but when she complains about the creep, Manoharan says: How can I stop a man from expressing his love for his wife? Ugh. Again, such a scene could well have been set up to throw light on the meaning of consent in sexual relations, but the narrative here is too light-hearted for it to serve that purpose. In fact, the flippant tone of that scene in which a woman with a swollen belly is shown struggling to juggle her expanding body, children of varying ages and her housework, is disconcerting to say the least.

And then of course there is the casting. Considering the massive age differences between male superstars and their female romantic leads in most commercial Malayalam cinema, I was dreading the possibility that sweet little Anaswara Rajan from Udaharanam Sujatha and Thanneermathan Dinangal would be shown here as the nearly 50-year-old Menon’s girlfriend or wife on screen. Thankfully, that does not happen, but Aadya Rathri’s idea of age-appropriate casting is to make her, a 17-year-old with a child-like face, the potential bride of Kunjumon P.P., the character played by Aju Varghese who is 34 in real life. That scene in which Kunjumon fantasises about Achchu romancing him feels weird.

And get this: Achchu and Kunjumon were once schoolmates and are about the same age.

Sexism and misogyny are not Aadya Rathri’s only characteristics. Kunjumon is repeatedly fat shamed. Bangalore’s youngsters are viewed through the lens of clichés that conservatives reserve for societies where gender segregation is not the norm. And Aadya Rathri is not even committed to its regressive views. It wants to be seen as progressive. The tonally patchy narrative fails at both.

In a scene early in Manoharan’s journey, as he watches a bedroom door close on a traumatised woman on the first night of her forced marriage to a sexual pervert, it is apparent that it has begun to dawn on him that what is happening is not right. Yet 22 years later, the same Manoharan tells a pregnant woman that her horny husband’s sexual aggression is, in fact, an expression of love. Huh? Character graphs and consistency in characterisation seem to be alien concepts to this team.

This is disappointing because director Jibu Jacob’s last film, Munthirivallikal Thalirkkumbol, though completely accepting of a patriarchal social structure, did take some progressive forward steps, and was certainly not so poorly written. Writers Sharis-Jebin, on the other hand, have lived up to their track record as the team behind the bizarre, mixed-up 2018 film Queen that was supposedly anti-rape. Do us a favour, gentlemen. Stop claiming to care and try genuinely caring instead.

Rating (out of five stars): *

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	129 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/aadya-rathri-movie-review-biju-menon-anaswara-rajan-starrer-is-all-mixed-up-about-marital-rape-7596481.html

Visuals courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/AjuVargheseOfficial/