REVIEW 758: DRIVING LICENCE

Release date:	December 20, 2019
Director:	Lal Jr
Cast: Language:	Prithviraj Sukumaran, Suraj Venjaramoodu, Mia George, Deepti Sati, Adhish Praveen, Saiju Kurup, Suresh Krishna, Nandu, Shivaji Guruvayoor, Lalu Alex, Vijayaraghavan Malayalam

A major star needs a driving licence. The motor vehicle inspector in charge of his application is his fan. A misunderstanding caused by a third party’s actions leads to a blazing showdown between them. Could this be the starting point of great cinema? Yes, if writer Sachy and director Lal Jr are involved. In their hands, what follows is a captivating, unexpectedly insightful examination of human nature, as a game of pride and pettiness, fandom and fury leads to a high-profile war over a tiny issue.

Prithviraj Sukumaran plays the actor Hareendran, and Suraj Venjaramoodu is the MVI, Kuruvilla J. Both are in top form in Driving Licence, a suspense-filled, fast-paced ride that belies and surpasses all expectations raised by the trailer and the film’s opening minutes. At first it appears that this will be just a David-vs-Goliath battle. Then it seems that it will be a story of how even the smallest cog in a wheel can cause massive disruptions. Then it looks like it will be about media sensationalism or Mollywood politics. Then it heads in the direction of how the bureaucracy misuses its powers. Each time you think you have cracked Driving Licence,  it takes a surprising turn. This screenplay is one of the cleverest pieces of writing to emerge from Malayalam cinema in what is already a great year for Mollywood.

Lal Jr, whose calling cards as a director so far have been Honey Bee and Honey Bee 2: Celebrations, whips up the excitement levels in his latest venture with the aid of editor Ratheesh Raj’s smooth transitions and swift cuts. What elevates Driving Licence above the average thriller and makes it almost unslottable genre-wise though is its thoughtfulness. Intelligent writing, deft editing and nuanced acting join forces to ensure that neither Hareendran nor Kuruvilla is villainised or heroised at any point. What we get instead is a plausible series of circumstances aptly illustrating how momentary bursts of temper (from both gentlemen), arrogance (Hareendran’s) and small-mindedness (Kuruvilla’s) could cause otherwise manageable incidents to spiral out of control. The film is not perfect – we are never quite given to understand why Hareendran trusts his childhood friend, the politician Johnny Peringodan played by Saiju Kurup, when it is so clear that the man is untrustworthy, and Kuruvilla’s wife (Mia George) comes across as a caricature – but it is gripping all the same. 

Though Driving Licence – perhaps intentionally – gives off a vibe of being casual fun, it is quite the opposite. Don’t get me wrong. It is lots of fun. However, it is anything but casual. In fact, it is brave in the way it highlights the control big stars in Kerala have over their fans associations (this is true of fans groups across southern India’s film industries) at a time when the aggression, criminality and toxic masculinity of such associations has come under scrutiny after the actor assault case of 2017, the formation of the Women In Cinema Collective and the attack on Parvathy for her outspokenness. 

That said, the handling of Mollywood politics is less layered than the rest of the film. The misogynistic AMMA (the Association of Malayalam Movie Artistes) which has behaved shamefully in the aftermath of the 2017 attack, has been given kid-glove treatment here, and painted simply as a bunch of supportive men who back a fellow artiste when he is treated unfairly. This, and the speech given by Hareendran in the end when he holds back from lambasting his fans shortly after they displayed horrifying mob behaviour, are the places where Driving Licence chooses to play it safe. Hareendran the superstar is very likely to be cautious in comments about his fans, but this is Team Driving Licence itself avoiding antagonising the public. 

These, no doubt, are conscious decisions. What appears unconscious and is therefore far more disturbing is the way Kuruvilla’s physical roughness towards his wife and the manner in which he trivialises her are portrayed with a such-is-life tone rather than a critical eye. 

Hopefully, Lal Jr and Sachy will rise above their social conditioning next time and will also show even more courage than they have shown here. 

The two leading men in Driving Licence are surrounded by a well-chosen supporting cast, including Deepti Sati who lends quiet dignity to the role of Hareendran’s wife despite her limited presence in the proceedings, Suresh Krishna who is hilarious as a mediocre actor and Hareendran’s jealous rival, and Adhish Praveen as Kuruvilla’s son. There is a scene in which the boy realises that his Dad is lying to avoid telling his wife about a humiliating experience – the camera rests very briefly on him, but those moments are enough for this remarkable youngster to convey a child’s internal conflict.

Venjaramoodu has already rocked the big screen with his performance as a lonely, ill-tempered old man in Android Kunjappan Version 5.25 earlier this year. In some ways Kuruvilla is a more challenging role because it gives him no crutches to lean on, like the heavy makeup of Android or the massive age difference between him and his character. In this film as in that one, he has to earn sympathy for his character despite his misbehaviour with another character who is hard to dislike. Venjaramoodu of course pulls it off.

2019 has been a mixed bag for Prithviraj. While Brothers Day was disgraceful and his directorial debut Lucifer was disappointing, both Nine and Driving Licence are reminders of what a fine actor he is. That he is also heartachingly handsome does not hurt, of course. In his turn as the brusque superstar who adores his wife, Prithviraj owns every frame in which he appears. He is one among the multiple reasons why Driving Licence, despite its share of potholes, remains a thoroughly entertaining experience.

Rating (out of 5 stars): 3.5

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	135 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/driving-licence-movie-review-prithviraj-is-terrific-in-a-captivating-drama-on-pride-and-pettiness-fandom-and-fury-7814391.html

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

REVIEW 522: PULLIKKARAN STARAA

Release date:	September 1, 2017
Director:	Shyamdhar
Cast: Language:	Mammootty, Asha Sarath, Deepti Sati, Innocent, Dileesh Pothan, Hareesh Perumanna, Vivek Gopan Malayalam

Pullikkaran Staraa is peppered with moments reminding us of the Mammootty that once was, still occasionally is and could still be – an expression of tenderness here, a comical interlude there, a flash of thoughtfulness and hurt, a shot emphasising that handsome face and towering frame on which the advancing years rest so well. The question then is inevitable: when age has been so kind to this megastar, why is he being so unkind to his own legacy?

Unlike the summer release The Great Father, which was repugnant from start to finish in its focus on Mammukka’s swagger and figure in the middle of a story of a child-rapist-cum-serial-killer, this film is not puke-worthy. What it is is worthy of a long, long bout of weeping by a critic who has grown up admiring and respecting this brilliant actor.

Mammootty stars as a much-misunderstood man called Rajakumaran in director Shyamdhar’s latest film. The opening sequence shows us a series of unhappy coincidences that give the child Rajakumaran the reputation of being a pervert. You can guess from one of his nicknames – Kuli Scene Rajakumaran – what he might have done (or been thought to have done) to earn this rep.

Anyway, the boy grows into a misunderstood man. Rajakumaran is now a Kochi-based professional trainer of schoolteachers. He is a do-gooder who has remained single mostly because his standing as a slime ball towards women has pursued him into his adulthood. His thoughts and life head off in unplanned directions when he meets two women from different generations: his supposed contemporary Manjari Teacher (played by the fabulous Asha Sarath who is, the Net tells me, in fact about two decades younger than Mammukka) and the very young Manjimma (Deepti Sati).

Also written into the storyline are Rajakumaran’s three friends, played by Innocent, Dileesh Pothan and Hareesh Perumanna.

This being a Mammootty film, it is obvious that there will be expressions of romantic interest from both the lovely ladies. This being a Mammootty film, it is obvious too who the script will choose for him.

For the moment, forget the fact that Pullikkaran Staraa rests on a wafer-thin plot, forget the lack of focus in the narrative, the over-stretching, the unnecessary scenes (such as that bus accident), the occasional double entendre, the questionable editing and the unremarkable music. The fact is, there are many possibilities staring us in the face in Rajakumaran’s training sessions with his teacher students. Those passages genuinely have something to say, but instead of keeping its eye trained on them, the film relegates this part of the hero’s life to the margins, remaining obsessed instead with ending his bachelorhood.

Gender segregation is a serious issue across India, and certainly in Kerala society, but Shyamdhar is obviously not trying to put the spotlight on a social problem, he is a manifestation of that problem when his characters think sexual attraction and kalyanam the moment they spot a man and woman – any man and any woman – together in the same frame for even a few seconds. We see this all the time in commercial Mollywood, and in the real world in Malayali society, but too many Lakshman rekhas of absurdity and obnoxiousness are crossed in Pullikkaran Staraa when Rajakumaran’s buddies routinely suggest marriage to him at the drop of a hat whenever he happens to encounter a woman, even if she is young enough to be his granddaughter, as Manjimma is, or merely happened to sit next to him on a bus one day, as Manjari did.

Apparently, no spinster, divorcee or single woman of any variety is capable of being in the same room as Rajakumaran without being drawn to him. Apparently, he is incapable of being in the same room as any such female homo sapien without being drawn to her, despite his protestations when his friends goad him to approach the aforesaid women.

Mammootty has made a habit of courting and/or marrying characters played by actresses half his age over the years, but watching him get coy with Deepti Sati – who is 22 according to the Net and looks it, while he turns 66 next week – is a last straw. It is like Bollywood audiences used to watching heroes cast opposite actresses who are aeons younger, but being particularly repulsed at the sight of Salman Khan with the baby-faced Sneha Ullal in Lucky: No Time For Love (2005). Sheesh!

Why am I devoting so much time to the age difference between Mammootty and Deepti Sati, when he is not the only male star nor Mollywood the only Indian film industry guilty of this transgression?

Because Rajakumaran’s possible liaison with Manjimma is the overriding aspect of the storyline.

Because even in the role of Rajakumaran’s ‘contemporary’, Shyamdhar could not bear to cast an actress in her 60s, but instead picked the 40-something Asha Sarath.

Because such casting indicates a disdain for older women, which in turn is a symptom of a deeply patriarchal society whose attitudes towards women are evidenced in this film.

Because Pullikkaran Staraa seems incapable of seeing women as anything but a mother, sister, daughter or wife to a man, never a friend.

Because too many Malayalam films are filled with men constantly articulating their resentment towards their wives and the shackles marriage supposedly places on them – such that a Martian might think men are the ones who change their names, shift out of their homes and quit the families of their birth after marriage, pay dowry, get pregnant even if/when they don’t want to, give birth to children who do not bear their names, are expected to consign their careers to the background, are expected to lie back and take it whenever their spouse is horny, and so on – yet these same men are absolutely, utterly desperate to be with a woman.

And because, the patches of sweetness in Pullikkaran Staraa’s classroom sessions are sidelined by the filmmaker and overshadowed by this nonsense.  

Dear Mammukka,

Please stop this. If nothing else, lean on the team currently advising your son, urging him to experiment and nudging him in the direction of such gems as Kammatipaadam and Kali. The last film you did that was worthy of your talent, your charisma and your stature was Pathemari in 2015, a role for which you were unfairly robbed of a National Award for Best Actor when it was given instead to Amitabh Bachchan for Piku.

In Pallikkal Narayanan, we could see the grace and gravitas that has made you a heartthrob of generations of serious Malayalam film watchers. At a time when so many interesting writers and directors (including your co-star in this film, Dileesh Pothan) are authoring a whole New Wave in Mollywood that is yielding quality cinema and box-office results, why are you not seeking out such scripts? What, instead, are you doing in a film as vacuous as this one?

It is a measure of how bad things are that this is the best that can be said of Pullikkaran Staraa: it is not as boring as White, it is not as insulting to women as Kasaba and it is not as deeply disturbing or offensive as The Great Father.

Seriously Mammukka, ithu oru anyaayam aanu, an injustice to your craft and your filmography.

Regards,

A well-wisher

Rating (out of five stars): *

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	135 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

http://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/pullikkaran-staraa-movie-review-dear-mammootty-why-are-you-marring-your-legacy-4000473.html

Poster courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/PullikkaranStaraa.Movie/