REVIEW 674: KODATHI SAMAKSHAM BALAN VAKEEL

Release date:	February 21, 2019
Director:	Unnikrishnan B.
Cast: Language:	Dileep, Mamta Mohandas, Suraj Venjaramoodu, Siddique, Renji Panicker, Lena, Priya Anand, Aju Varghese, Saiju Kurup Malayalam

“It is not how something is said but what is said that matters,” Judge Vidhyadharan played by Saiju Kurup declares towards the end of Kodathi Samaksham Balan Vakeel. This is the film’s attempt at advocacy for persons with disabilities, which in other circumstances would have been laudable. Here though it is far from convincing since Vidhyadharan has spent the preceding couple of hours displaying a curious mix of sarcasm and kindness towards a lawyer with a stammer appearing in his courtroom.

Dileep is cast as the said lawyer, Balan Vakeel of the title a.k.a. S. Balakrishnan. And Vidhyadharan is not the only one mocking him. The screenplay does too.

A disability may well lead to misunderstandings and confusions that could be comical, but when every character in a film is contemptuous of a protagonist with a speech impairment, when even a person with empathy is shown pulling the fellow down, when the writing draws almost entirely on that element for its comedy, then an effort to appear sensitive in the finale is almost offensive.

This desire to be a little bit of everything – hateful yet considerate, loud yet genteel, crudely comedic yet backing a noble cause – is the hallmark of writer-director Unnikrishnan B’s Kodathi Samaksham Balan Vakeel (KSBV). It tells the story of a lawyer who has fared poorly in his career so far due to his stammer and lack of confidence. It does not help that his mother (Bindu Panicker) nags him viciously, his father (Siddique) is usually intoxicated by a cocktail of alcohol and drugs, and his brother-in-law (Suraj Venjaramoodu) is a selfish, manipulative jerk. The latter is a cop who drags Balan into a controversy that becomes a turning point in his life.

The crux of the controversy is a false case of sexual harassment foisted on one of the most high-profile men in Kerala. It cannot be a coincidence that the prime sufferer in this “goodalochana” (conspiracy) is Balan. This is not the first time since he got bail in the ongoing woman actor rape case that Dileep (who is charged as a conspirator in the crime) has used his on-screen avatar to promote the propaganda spread globally by misogynists that gender-sensitive laws are widely misused by women. In last year’s Kammara Sambhavam, his character, a corrupt politician, went so far as to make a throwaway remark about how his team would be free to go about their unscrupulous work if they diverted the public’s attention by having a woman slap a fake charge of sexual violence against any well-known man. 

That comment in Kammara Sambhavam was unrelated to the rest of the plot, whereas in KSBV, the false allegation is the fulcrum of the storyline. This latest attempt to build a case for Dileep in his real-life legal quagmire is self-defeating though because – and this can be said without giving anything away – KSBV ends up unwittingly making the point that men use women to misuse women-related laws. Ha. So the joke’s on you, Messrs Dileep and Unnikrishnan.

Even if you view the film without any knowledge of the context to the casting, it is laden with cinematic clichés and social stereotypes. The Common Man who transforms into Superman at the click of a finger (literally, in this case), a damsel in distress who is rescued by the aforesaid hero, a non-stop stream of potshots directed at Balan’s stammer, slapstick comedy, a song and dance centred around a semi-clothed woman that is completely unconnected to the narrative – you will find it all in KSBV.

Balan has trouble beginning sentences. When an associate called Anzar (Aju Varghese) helpfully grabs the phone from Balan to say the first word the latter is struggling to get out in one scene, it is funny since he does it without malice. So is the second time he does it. But for the most part Balan’s stammer is the subject of unfunny barbs and derision.

When listeners mispredict a word Balan is about to say, their impatience with him is unkind enough, but when they do it incessantly throughout the film, it just gets worse each time. The cruelty of KSBV lies in the fact that it is not merely portraying ableist characters, Unnikrishnan is clearly himself tickled by their meanness towards Balan, as he is tickled by the extreme misogyny in the hero’s Dad’s interactions with his Mom and the old chap’s casual violence towards her.

Aju Varghese plays the film’s most irritating character. Renji Panicker is very well used. Saiju Kurup is good, as he always is – give this man larger roles, please Mollywood! Venjaramoodu manages to pull off some, though not all, of the intentionally over-the-top comedy plus his character’s sliminess. As for Priya Anand, I don’t know why she even bothered to accept this blink-and-you-will-miss-her role. Mamta Mohandas has it just marginally better.

Anuradha Sudarshan (Mohandas) is a hapless woman also swept up by the imbroglio that has taken over Balan’s existence. At one point we are told that her father, a sketchily described random character, was confident that she would be able to crack a puzzle he has left for her because he believes she is smart. Really, Sir? All that we see is Anuradha hanging around Balan and hanging on to him while he solves the mystery and saves her life. This is particularly upsetting because it results in a waste of Mohandas’ strong screen presence.

Of course the two also fall in love. It is, after all, an unwritten rule in commercial Indian cinema across languages that at least one good-looking young woman, the younger the better, must be attracted to the hero of a film especially if he is played by a big male star, irrespective of the man’s age.

As in all such situations, the almost two decades separating Mohandas and Dileep are treated as an everyday phenomenon. What is far more amusing though is the important flashback to Balan’s college days. Can you imagine a female actor in her 50s in Mollywood being asked to play a college student for even a few seconds?

Lost in all this triteness is a rather interesting mystery, the not-bad-at-all sub-plot explaining how and why Balan began to stammer, and Dileep’s surprisingly restrained portrayal of Balan’s disability. With juvenile humour and prejudice dominating the screenplay, Team KSBV has no one to blame but themselves.

Rating (out of five stars): *1/2

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	155 minutes

A version of this review has also been published on Firstpost:

https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/kodathi-samaksham-balan-vakeel-movie-review-dileeps-unexpected-restraint-is-overshadowed-by-crudeness-cliches-and-prejudice-6135241.html

Poster courtesy:

https://www.facebook.com/ActorDileep/

REVIEW 670: NINE / 9

Release date:	February 7, 2019
Director:	Jenuse Mohamed
Cast: Language:	Prithviraj Sukumaran, Alok, Wamiqa Gabbi, Mamta Mohandas, Prakash Raj, Rahul Madhav Malayalam with Hindi

A little boy stands watching a solar eclipse with his father in 1990 with a rough-hewn contraption on his head. The scientist Dad disabuses him of misconceptions about this natural phenomenon that have been spread by superstitious and ignorant folk. Never stop asking questions even when adults tell you that not every question has an answer, the father says.

Fast forward to the present day, the child Albert has grown up to be a respected astrophysicist, still asking questions. He is also a widower struggling with the upbringing of his son Adam who is constantly getting into trouble.

Meanwhile, humankind is awaiting the passing of a red comet at unprecedented proximity to Earth. Electromagnetic waves from the comet are expected to cut off all electrically operated equipment for nine days. With even the smallest of batteries bound to be affected, and no modern means of transport available, a panicked public stocks up supplies and riots break out in some places. Albert for his part takes off for the Himalayas with Adam for a research project. Their lives go haywire following the arrival of the comet and a woman called Ava in their home. 

9, as the news media has already reported, is Sony Pictures Entertainment’s first foray into an Indian film industry other than Bollywood (for heaven’s sake please let’s stop using that awful, marginalising term “regional cinema”). It has been produced in collaboration with Malayalam superstar Prithviraj Sukumaran’s newly minted production house.

Prithviraj multi-tasks with this project, also playing Albert on whose shoulders the entire film rests and Albert’s father in his prologue appearance. The film is based on an intriguing premise that merges the very human fear of the unknown with mental health issues, science, the supernatural and a disturbed father-son relationship, the starting block of which is the fact that the boy Adam’s mother died in childbirth. Adam (played by the child actor Alok from Clint) is thus a constant reminder of what Albert lost that his son may be born.

Writer-director Jenuse Mohamed’s plot takes a while to lift off. At first a needless, obvious effort is made to up the already satisfactorily restless atmosphere with some manipulative camerawork especially in the introduction of Albert’s mentor Dr Inayat Khan (Prakash Raj) and shots focused on Albert’s face, and a pointless romantic number involving a flashback to Albert’s late wife Annie (Mamta Mohandas) ends up being stilted and clichéd.

9 truly gets into the groove though as soon as the comet and Ava (Wamiqa Gabbi) enter the picture. Once that happens, Mohamed and his able cast, backed by Shameer Muhammed’s slick editing and Arun Ramavarma’s sophisticated sound design, roll out a thoroughly engaging, perfectly paced narrative. Past the problematic initial half hour, DoP Abinandhan Ramanujam strikes a fine balance between closing in on the characters and pulling out to give us an eyeful of the pristine Himalayan setting of most of the film. With a first-rate team on board, Mohamed delivers a psychological-meets-the-paranormal thriller that remains captivating till the big reveal in the climax.

Prithviraj’s controlled performance as Albert, particularly after he figures out the mysterious goings-on around him, is the fulcrum of 9’s effectiveness. A big salute to him too for his diction while delivering the considerable number of Hindi dialogues assigned to Albert.

(As an aside here, it is worth mentioning that Indian cinemas other than Hindi/Bollywood are far more representative of pan-India cultures and languages than is Hindi cinema which almost entirely confines itself to the Hindi belt or at best to other parts and peoples of north India. Sometimes though, the use of Hindi in Malayalam films feels strained, as though Hindi is seen by the writer as aspirational and a mark of coolth, somewhat mirroring the average Hindi filmmaker’s attitude to English – this can be irritating. The use of Hindi in 9’s dialogues works because the language is relevant to the setting and context, but sounds forced in that song featuring Albert and Annie although it is set in Delhi.)

Little Alok is a remarkably mature actor, his confidence is especially impressive in the scenes he shares with his seasoned co-star.

Gabbi may seem to be overdoing her work in places, but be patient – in the end it becomes clear that she is actually spot on with her take on Ava. The writer’s choice of gender for this character is interesting.

Mohandas’ charming personality makes her an apt casting call for a wife that a man might find impossible to get over.

In addition to its focus on science and rationality, 9 is important because it spotlights mental health concerns in a cleverly artistic way designed to invite audience empathy. However, at a crucial juncture it comes across as being confused in its understanding of this sensitive subject. (Spoiler alert) Why and how on earth, for instance, does a cosmologist and not a psychiatrist/psychologist/therapist diagnose and counsel a seriously unwell individual? And what was the writer thinking showing this ‘counsellor’ intimidating and threatening the patient with a deadline to get sorted? (Spoiler alert ends) This review is not expecting 9 to have been a documentary on mental wellness, but considering the widespread ignorance in this matter in India and the prevailing attitude of “this is how such people should be handled”, the film’s casualness in that brief scene, including incorrect terminology, is unacceptable.

9 then is not all smooth sailing, but because its missteps largely occur in passing (the mixed-up portrayal of mental health, the use of a stereotypical black-is-for-evil-white-is-for-good colour palette among other things), once it settles into its rhythm, it is never less than entertaining and largely thought-provoking.

Besides, I would willingly pay the price of two tickets to watch any film in which Prithviraj Sukumaran is in good form. He is here.

Rating (out of five stars): **3/4

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	149 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/9-movie-review-the-lovely-prithviraj-an-intriguing-premise-share-space-with-confusing-treatment-of-mental-health-6051611.html

Poster courtesy:

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