Showing posts with label Maniyanpilla Raju. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Maniyanpilla Raju. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 16, 2019

REVIEW 732: FINALS


Release date:
Kerala: September 6, 2019
Delhi: September 20, 2019
Director:
P.R. Arun
Cast:



Language:
Rajisha Vijayan, Suraj Venjaramoodu, Niranj Maniyanpilla Raju, Maniyanpilla Raju, Muthumani, Tini Tom, Nisthar Sait, Sona Nair
Malayalam


“Each bicycle I have owned has been a loan my father has taken, each medal we earn is to pay back loans to our families, our people and banks.”

These moving, profound, poetic yet practical words are the highlight of a speech delivered by national cycling champion Alice Varghese to a small community gathering in her home town Kattappana in Idukki district. At this point in the first half of the film, it seems that this young woman – wise beyond her years yet charming in the way she copes with the uncertainties of youth – is the protagonist of the new Malayalam release Finals. She is dynamic, she is an achiever and she fights enough battles to make her a captivating heroine in a full-length feature. As long as she and her coach/father are the centre of the action, it is smooth sailing for Finals.

Writer-director P.R. Arun seems not to have recognised that he has a good thing going with his initial focus on Alice, her widowered parent Varghese’s and her clashes with a corrupt state sports establishment, Varghese’s single-minded devotion to his only child, her blossoming romance with her life-long friend Manuel, and the callousness of a system and a society that threaten to throttle talent every step of the way. As the many turns on Alice’s path play out, Arun has a firm grip on his narrative, never allowing its appeal to lag despite the languid pace that only serves to underline the contrast between her busy career and her beloved, visually beautiful, sleepy birthplace. Her heart is in Kattappana but the world is the stage she aspires to be on.

The storyline and storytelling during this phase – bolstered by Sudeep Elamon’s gasp-inducing cinematography and Kailas Menon’s melodic song Parakkaam (Let’s Fly) in Yazin Nizar and Latha Krishna’s voices – are engaging enough to overshadow occasional glitches such as the awkwardly cast and written cameo of a Sikh sporting official/coach in north India.

And then at the halfway mark, something strange happens. A dramatic twist of fate alters Alice and Varghese’s lives forever, but instead of staying with the girl through a potentially riveting thereafter, the narrative virtually discards her and from then on suddenly becomes about Manuel and Varghese.

It is tempting to wonder – arguably uncharitably – whether this happened because Manuel is played by the film’s producer Maniyanpilla Raju’s son Niranj and that Daddy wanted a platform to showcase Niranj Mon’s talent. More likely though is the possibility that Alice’s future was just too challenging for Arun, that he actually did not know what to do with her after the interval, and so he chose the easier option in which she is done and dusted and vacates the spotlight to the two gentlemen.

This is not to say that Niranj lacks charisma or that Manuel is an unworthy hero (neither is true) but that Finals lacks focus. If it is meant to be a film about Alice, Varghese and Manuel, then there is just no excuse for why Manuel is so marginal pre-interval or why Alice becomes next to irrelevant post that. Besides, in the second half, the languor that initially served the narrative so well becomes a camouflage for limited substance. The volume of the background score too is used to fill in much blankness, over-stressing every single emotion, every challenge, every tear, every sigh and every breath to wearying effect.

Niranj Maniyanpilla Raju needs a script with greater heft to pull off a second half that rests largely on his shoulders. He does the best he can, but considering that even a seasoned artiste like Suraj Venjaramoodu (playing Varghese) is stretched to breaking point as the script starts wandering all over the place, perhaps the youngster deserves a long rope before we judge him too harshly here. Point to be noted: he does have a pleasant chemistry with Rajisha Vijayan.

Going by the text plates in the end, Finals seems inspired by a real-life sportsperson. The big regret following a viewing of this film is that it squanders its early gains headlined by Rajisha. The actor has grown noticeably as she has journeyed from her performance as a child-woman in Anuraga Karikkin Vellam (2016) and a woman-child in this year’s June to the woman that she is here. She does not deliver Alice to us in mere broad brush strokes, but pays equal attention to both the bigger picture and the little details – like that fleeting absent-minded cracking of the knuckles as she addresses a gathering.

The most endearing aspect of the leading lady’s performance is the manner in which she juggles her character’s maturity with the inevitable hesitation that comes from her awareness of her limited life experiences. My favourite scene in Finals is the one in which she seeks her father’s counsel before making a move in her romance with Manuel. Her matter-of-fact question to Varghese and his unflinching response convey, within seconds, their closeness, her openness to advice from Dad and his common-sense approach to parenting. There is warmth, believability and sweetness in that scene. This then is what Arun fritters away as he pretty much washes his hands of Alice through the second half of Finals. The road to cinematic ordinariness is paved with persons who had good concepts that they struggled to flesh out, especially well-meaning men who find the idea of a strong woman appealing but don’t quite know how to deal with one.

Rating (out of five stars): **

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

This review has also been published on Firstpost:




Tuesday, July 31, 2018

REVIEW 615: MY STORY


Release date:
July 6, 2018
Director:
Roshni Dinaker
Cast:


Language:
Parvathy, Prithviraj Sukumaran, Ganesh Venkatraman, Maniyanpilla Raju, Manoj K. Jayan
Malayalam     


She is a star and he an acting aspirant when they first meet on a film set. They bond instantly. Against them though stands not their difference in stature but her impending marriage to a business tycoon.

Despite the clichéd characterisation of the three lead players in this plot – as Brooding Princess, Charming Pauper and Wealthy Villain – it becomes possible to buy into their story because of the chemistry shared by the actors playing Tara and Jay who fall in love while in Lisbon on a shoot.

Parvathy and Prithviraj first drew viewer attention as an on-screen couple with the raging blaze between their characters Kanchanamala and Moideen in the 2015 blockbuster Ennu Ninte Moideen. Here in My Story, that fire is less wild and more a simmering flame, an aching vibe, making Tara and Jay the kind of pair you want to shake your fist at and say, “C’mon, do the deed. You know you want it.” And you want to see them hold hands, be comfortable in each others’ arms and grow old together, because you know in your heart that they want that too.

Whether or not any of this happens in My Story is for you to find out. Either way, the attraction between the two central characters is the saving grace of a film marked by otherwise unconvincing writing. Shankar Ramakrishnan’s screenplay and costume-designer-turned-debutant-director Roshni Dinaker’s vision, which help the actors in conjuring up the sparkling Tara-Jay equation (because chemistry is never a result of good acting alone), fail in chalking out the motivations for their actions in the film’s second half.

Firstly, Ramakrishnan makes Jay too likeable for his decisions regarding Tara to be credible. The graph of Jay’s regret defies believability too. And Tara’s fatalism is just not enough to justify her ultimate unblinking choice involving Jay. It is hard to be specific here without giving away spoilers, so make of this what you will, or re-read this paragraph after you watch the film to get what I am saying.

Maybe this screenplay needed to cook a little further before being transposed to the screen. Because it is clear that Ramakrishnan has a mind worth exploring. It is such a pleasure, for instance, to see him have his heroine make the first move in a romance, even sexually, without putting up signboards to draw our attention either to this point or the fact that they are not married when they sleep together.


It is nice too that Dinaker and her cast are not coy about sex as films by the Malayalam industry a.k.a. Mollywood continue to be. Not that those scenes are explicit or long, but it is just a relief that the actors are not awkward and the camera does not shift away to flowers or birds or props beside them when their lips meet or when their bodies slide to the floor. Nothing yet beats Aishwarya Lakshmi and Tovino Thomas in bed in Aashiq Abu’s wonderful 2017 film Mayaanadhi, but that is a separate discussion.

Dinaker also manages to build up an atmosphere of yearning post-interval, which perhaps is why it is particularly sad that My Story does not have the writing heft to back its charismatic stars, the lush camerawork by Dudley and Vinod Perumal, and Shaan Rahman’s appealing soundtrack. The cinematography team is equally efficient while capturing narrow bylanes in the Portuguese cities of Lisbon and Viseu, that dingy club and that glitzy theatre, as in their frames of the heroine and hero and vast expanses of European countryside.

In a double role, Parvathy does a better job of Tara than of Tara’s daughter Hema, possibly because the former is more plausible. Hema has been conceptualised as one of those painfully stereotypical youngsters who is cool in ways that commercial Indian cinema finds cool – perennially bubbly and energetic to an extent that you find rarely outside films and played a million times in this decade by actors ranging from Nithya Menen in Mani Ratnam’s Tamil film O Kadhal Kanmani to Shraddha Kapoor and Aditya Roy Kapur in OK Kanmani’s Bollywood remake Ok Jaanu.

Parvathy gives her Tara dignity and engaging interiority though. She also cracks the look of both, aided greatly by the wardrobe Dinaker has created for her. 

Prithviraj is elegantly grey – and sexy – in his older avatar, and is not bad either as Jay’s conflicted, occasionally goofy younger version. Special kudos to him for being willing to play a kinda senior chap at 35, while his 50- and 60-something male colleagues are still busy chasing their youth in films.

These are far from being brilliant performances or Parvathy and Prithviraj’s best, but it is their pairing that saves My Story from its contrivances and makes it worth watching, if at all.

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

CBFC Rating (India):
Running time:
139 minutes 

This review has also been published on Firstpost: