Showing posts with label Nimisha Sajayan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nimisha Sajayan. Show all posts

Thursday, November 14, 2019

REVIEW 744: NALPATHIYONNU (41)


Release date:
November 8, 2019
Director:
Lal Jose
Cast:

Language:
Biju Menon, Nimisha Sajayan, Dhanya Ananya, Saran Jith, Indrans, Suresh Krishna
Malayalam


Kicking off a religion-versus-rationalism debate is a risky business at any given time, more so now when skins in India have gotten thinner than they have ever been since Partition and temperatures are on the rise. Fear of causing offence does not stop veteran director Lal Jose from selecting this theme although it does seem to hold him back from offering a full-blown critique of religion in Nalpathiyonnu (41), as he tests the atheism of a senior Communist in Kerala by sending him on a pilgrimage to Sabarimala.

Biju Menon plays that party member, Ullaaskumar, a teacher from rural Kerala where locals debate whether their place of residence, Chekkunnugot its name from Che Guevara or Lord Shiva.

Ullaas is committed to his atheism, but it is twice tested during the course of this narrative: once through his romance with his student Bhagyam whose family are devout Hindus, and later when his organisation virtually coerces him to join his party colleague Kannan on a trip to Sabarimala. That a Communist set-up would show any commitment to religion may seem unconvincing, but this one has its reasons. Getting Ullaas to accompany Kannan to the Ayyappa shrine is the party’s desperate solution to the latter’s alcoholism: they are hoping that Ullaas’ monitoring will force Kannan to stick to the gruelling 41-day vratham – no meats, no alcohol or other intoxicants, no sex and so on – demanded of those hoping to have a darshan of the deity.

Lal Jose and writer P.G. Prageesh roll out their story in slice-of-life form, weaving in everyday insights about small-town life and party politics as they go along. Some of it is humourous and endearing, some of it contrived and clichéd. Like the scene in which Ullaas is caught in a bind that can be seen coming from a mile and then becomes tongue-tied.

The treatment of the relationship between Ullaas and Bhagyam (Nimisha Sajayan) too feels dated. A young woman chasing a reluctant hero played by a much older star is a ruse many filmmakers have used to establish the attractiveness of that male star. The seemingly liberal Jose’s decision to not pair Menon with a female actor his own age is a measure of the low value attached to romantic overtures by an older woman and of the ageism in casting that women face in cinema, more so in Mollywood a.k.a. the Malayalam film industry where the average age difference between older male stars and their female romantic partners on screen is 20-30 years, as if to suggest that this is routine in real life. The Nimisha Sajayan-Suraj Venjaramoodu pairing in Dileesh Pothan’s Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum just about passed muster on this front, but Menon, loveable as he is, looks like Sajayan’s Daddy.

That said, through Ullaas’ dilemmas, Nalpathiyonnu does make some interesting observations about the challenge of being opposed to religion when your loved ones are culturally and socially rooted in it. It also features a far better written, far more convincing man-woman relationship: the one Kannan shares with his wife Suma.

Menon plays Ullaas with the natural ease that is his defining characteristic as an artiste. Sajayan is wasted in a marginal role that seems unworthy of an actor who already has Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum and Eeda to her credit. The supporting cast playing their relatives and associates are competent. But the scene stealers in this film are Dhanya Ananya as Suma and Saran Jith as Kannan, the former managing to impress although she gets much less screen time than the latter.

Unlike the recent Sathyam Paranja Vishwasikkuvo?, one does not end the film wondering why on earth this woman likes this no-hoper. By the end of Nalpathiyonnu, we know.

Dhanya Ananya and Saran Jith along with S. Kumar’s cinematography – aimed not so much at showcasing Kerala’s beauty as at capturing the ruminative mood of the narrative – are the USPs of this film.

If Nalpathiyonnu does not have the fire and grit that would be expected from an exploration of such a potentially powerful theme, it is largely because of what comes across as a hesitation to truly critique the irrationality of faith. If Jose and Prageesh were afraid they would be accused of lacking objectivity, they could have additionally examined the insensitivity that some atheists direct at religionists, but both groups are spared an unsparing microscope.

This reluctance combined with loose editing results in a film that works only in parts, is thoughtful but just not enough, lacks punch and ends up being ambivalent. It makes you wonder why a filmmaker would pick such a subject in the first place if the intention was not to go the whole hog.

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

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

This review has also been published on Firstpost:



Monday, July 3, 2017

REVIEW 503: THONDIMUTHALUM DRIKSAKSHIYUM


Release date:
June 30, 2017
Director:
Dileesh Pothan
Cast:

Language:
Fahadh Faasil, Nimisha Sajayan, Suraj Venjaramoodu, Alencier Ley Lopez
Malayalam


Extracting the extraordinary from the ordinary is a unique skill, one that Dileesh Pothan possesses in bagfuls as we discovered from his debut film last year. While telling us the stories of Mahesh, Jimsy, Jimson, Soumya and Crispin in 2016’s Maheshinte Prathikaaram, the director heroined gorgeous Idukki, a “midu midukki who served as a microcosm of Kerala society yet bore her own unique characteristics.

Pothan is out with his second film this week: Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum (The Exhibits and the Eyewitness), in which he teams up once again with his Mahesh – actor Fahadh Faasil – and music director Bijibal. The film is set in Kasargode, but the heroine here is not the town as much as the police station in which the action plays out, mirroring the corruption, pathos, humour and ridiculousness in what we routinely decry as the ‘system’.

First-timer Nimisha Sajayan and veteran Suraj Venjaramoodu in Thondimuthalum play Sreeja and Prasad, a couple who elope and get married because of violent opposition to their relationship from her parents. They are a simple and loving lower-middle-class pair. Their lives are disrupted one day by a petty thief also called Prasad (Fahadh Faasil) when he steals one of their few precious belongings – or at least they think he does.

This Prasad is caught and detained at a police station where ASI Chandran (Alencier Ley Lopez) presides over the case. The goings-on at that station and how it affects the lives of everyone involved are what Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum is about.


If you ask for a detailed description of the plot, frankly, there is nothing much to tell. This is the sort of film that might have emerged if you placed hidden cameras around a cop station and edited the footage down to a manageable, viewable 135 minutes. The conversations between characters seem so believable and the flow of occurrences so authentic that Thondimuthalum genuinely feels like a reality show. Sajeev Pazhoor’s screenplay is one of 2017’s best pieces of film writing, which is saying a lot in a year in which Mollywood has already delivered such jewels as Take Off and Angamaly Diaries.

In the midst of all the rib-tickling mayhem in Thondimuthalum, a point is being made. What we may not wish to admit, even as we point fingers at the ‘system’, is that most of us even among the best of us are participants in its follies. Playing along is tempting and brings with it quick rewards; taking a stand, on the other hand, usually attracts quick retribution. To say the middle class make the easier choice always out of helplessness would have played to the gallery, but Pothan and his writers say it like it is instead. The truth is that the path of least resistance is less problematic than challenging the status quo, and when push comes to shove, most human beings have flexible morals.

Supplementing the writers’ commitment to realism is the cache of gems that make up the cast. Sajayan is a find. Venjaramoodu and Lopez are brilliantly believable. And Faasil, who seems to get better with each film, is a picture in understated hilarity. The supporting cast is a perfect match for this lead quartet.

The title track of Maheshinte Prathikaaram has been my earworm since I first heard it last year. Though Bijibal has not come up with an equivalent sparkler for Thondimuthalum, this film’s music too is special. In particular I enjoyed the song Kannile poika with its lyrics by Rafeeq Ahammed and vocals by Ganesh Sundaram and Sowmya Ramakrishnan.

Since Maheshinte Prathikaaram was so lovely, comparisons are inevitable. The two films are similar in their tone and narrative style, but to my mind there is an interesting difference in their cinematography. Although Maheshinte was an intimate portrait of Idukki, Shyju Khalid used his camera to give us larger-than-life images of the region’s delicious greenery while adhering to the film’s intentionally small scale with his shots of the interiors of Mahesh’s shop, his home, etc. In contrast to the lavishness of Khalid’s images of the countryside in Maheshinte, Rajeev Ravi in Thondimuthalum carries forward the air of intimacy in the police station and Sreeja-Prasad’s home, to the rich scenery too.

That long-drawn-out chase scene through woods ending up in a water body must rank as one of the best pursuits ever captured on screen that would not find a place in a Fast and Furious kind of film.

Ravi’s camerawork and Kiran Das’ editing of that passage are among my favourite parts of this film, closely rivalled by the look of mischief Faasil summons up on his face when Prasad is being interrogated at the police station.

Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum is as simple or as complex as you want it to be for yourself. Either way, it is a lot of fun. There are few things in this world more captivating than reality.

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

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

This review has also been published on Firstpost: