REVIEW 423: IDI / INSPECTOR DAWOOD IBRAHIM

Release date:	Kerala: August 12, 2016. Delhi: August 26
Director:	Sajid Yahiya
Cast: Language:	Jayasurya, Sshivada, Sunil Sukhada, Molly Kannamaly, Saiju Kurup, Joju George, Yog Japee Malayalam

Imagine a little kid born in Kerala being named Dawood Ibrahim by his parents. Life for him would perhaps be even more challenging than it was for an African-American with the middle name Hussein and a surname that rhymes with Osama in post-9/11 America.

Little Dawood Ibrahim of our story grows up to be a policeman and is sent off to Kollanahalli village on the Kerala-Karnataka border. It is the kind of posting assigned to no-gooders, not to a promising new entrant. The police station in Kollanahalli is dilapidated, the facilities there so unused that when a phone rings for the first time in years, the lizard that had made the instrument its home is startled. Nothing but petty crime – goat and chicken thefts – take place in this outback of God’s Own Country, and all scores are settled by and within the community. That is, until Inspector Dawood Ibrahim takes matters into his own hands.

Whatever it is you think happens next, you are wrong. The opening scenes of debutant writer-director Sajid Yahiya’s Inspector Dawood Ibrahim imply that we are in for a hardcore masala film with an invincible cop at the helm, Jayasurya doing a Suriya in Singham style, complete with slow-mo, swagger and a signature song. Wrong again.

Inspector Dawood Ibrahim (abbreviated in the title to IDI, which is also the Malayalam word for a blow/punch) is a clever spoof on regular commercial cop dramas – clever, because it is designed to please consumers of unabashedly massy fare as much as those who are cynical about such content. And so, it features plenty of biff, boom, bang, loud music and dialoguebaazi, but each time you think it is about to fall into a formulaic rut, each time you wonder if it has begun to take itself seriously, it turns around and laughs at itself in the face.

It takes a while for the film to reveal its intentions, but once it does IDI is a fun ride right down to the sidesplitting ending. Note of caution: you had better stay glued to the screen in the climactic fight, because if you miss that split-second flash of a throne turning to something else and then back, you may miss the realisation that at this point too, nothing may be what it seems. 

Jayasurya, who is currently also in theatres with the comparatively insipid Pretham, is a joy to watch as a policeman whose circumstances are scoffing at him. It is always nice to see such a major star in self-deprecating mode. In this particular instance, the star is taking the mickey out of not just his own role or his own film, but all commercial police films across Indian industries. He embodies the film’s Dawood: striking, good-looking, perfectly suited to those low-angle shots that build him up as an imposing figure, filled with hopes of vanquishing villains to a resounding background score, only to realise that real life is not a mainstream Indian movie.

The rest of the cast do precisely what they are required to do: Yog Japee as the international don Akbar Ali and Saiju Kurup as the crook operating in Mangalore overact appropriately. Joju George as the local petty criminal Vasu is by turns fearsome and fearful. Sunil Sukhada and Molly Kannamaly cracked me up in their roles as Dawood’s sidekicks Kuttanpilla and Angel Mary. Thanks to them, never again will I be able to see an incoming call from an “unknown caller” on my phone without doubling up with laughter. Yes it is true that their looks are used here as metaphors for the decrepit Kollanahalli police station, but to be fair, IDI does not pick on anyone in particular, it picks on everyone. If you must be non-PC, this is how you do it.

IDI’s dialogue writing by Arouz Irfan (who co-wrote the screenplay with Yahiya) is smart and cocks a snook at so many clichés. Even the smattering of potty jokes are bearable because the film never lets up on its self-effacing tone. I am not sure the English lines dished out by Akbar Ali were intentionally awkward, but wittingly or unwittingly they have ended up matching his wannabe-grandiose character. 

There are plenty of plot points that can be viewed as weak links in IDI, including the ludicrous implausibility of a gangster sought after by Interpol deciding to personally respond to a summons of sorts by an unknown cop in a deserted outpost, yet it works. Because every apparent weak link could also be explained away as an attempt to underline the inherent stupidity in most commercial films about police and undercover spies that we are willing to buy into when the film effectively compels us to suspend disbelief. I mean, c’mon, we’ve bought into the efficacy of Tom Cruise/Ethan Hunt’s many disguises in the Mission Impossible series, we have willingly swallowed Bruce Willis/John McClane’s physical indestructibility in the Die Hard series, so why would we not accept the probability of a wanted criminal being an idiot or the possibility that a policeman may indeed only always blink in slow motion? And why would we not believe that there is no weapon more lethal in this world than a Malayali man’s mundu?

The film’s major failing is its extreme male-centricity, extreme even by the low gender-related standards of commercial Indian cinema. Ninety per cent of the scenes in IDI do not feature even a female extra? Sshivada plays a spunky IIM-Ahmedabad graduate called Nithya Niranjan who bases herself in Kollanahalli because she wants to make a difference. That one scene in which she bashes up two cowering crooks is enough proof of the actress’ and the character’s potential to elevate IDI, yet Yahiya uses her as the only thing heroines are meant to be when seen through a blinkered male gaze: the hero’s ‘love interest’. Even that angle gets short shrift.

Crime and cop flicks tend to be male-centric, but some of the best of the lot – the ones that have risen above the formulae this film is parodying – have given women substantial, even if not primary, roles. What would the Suriya-starrer Kaakha Kaakha have been without Jyothika and the character she played? Would Ghajini (the original Tamil version with Suriya or the Hindi remake with Aamir Khan) have been the same without the depth and space given to Asin’s character? Women are not mere asides to be loved or lamented you know, Mr Yahiya. Obviously this is a potential element lost to IDI.

The film’s production design by Rajeev Kovilakam and cinematography by Sujith Sarang are effective. Sarang, for one, manages to successfully convey the desolation of Kollanahalli within picturesque surroundings. Dawood’s booming theme music by Rahul Raj is in keeping with the mood of the film, but none of the songs is memorable.

For the most part though, Inspector Dawood Ibrahim is an interesting police flick, a hysterical spoof of the genre and of itself. Even its over-the-top-ness is a mockery of over-the-topness. The pride and flourish with which the protagonist refers to the Kerala Police is a reminder of the parochialism, regionalism and nationalism often summoned up to earn wolf whistles in films of this genre. Remember the repeated referencing of Marathi pride in the Hindi version of Singham starring Ajay Devgn? Know this from IDI: you can bash up a Kerala policeman, bring him to his knees, abduct the father he loves and terrorise the old man, but God forbid that you should insult his uniform. Hell hath no fury like a Malayali cop whose khaki topi you are about to step on.

Of course it is all very silly and OTT. It is thoroughly entertaining though because it does not pretend to be anything but that, because it manages to not be condescending at any point, and most of all because within the realm of silliness it does not insult our intelligence.

Rating (out of five): ***

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	128 minutes

Censorship footnote: Although there are plenty of fisticuffs in Inspector Dawood Ibrahim, the camera does not show us much blood. The only disturbing shot in the film is of a man running a pencil through a person’s head, in through one ear and out of the other. This is the sort of scene for which the US ratings agency CARA would have perhaps rated a film PG, which signifies that parents may possibly want to check out a film before taking their children to see it. PG is a relatively mild rating, yet not the most lenient of them all, which is G indicating suitability for general viewing across age groups. India’s Central Board of Film Certification is known to be open to children viewing violence but not even an allusion to sex. The makers of IDI know this, which is why they have voluntarily beeped out the word “motherfucker” in a conversation without being asked to do so. The result: this film has been rated U (suited for universal viewing, the Indian equivalent of G) despite the pencil-through-the-head-of-a-human-being scene which should have earned it a UA, the Indian equivalent of PG. The only change the Board demanded was the removal of a shot of a man licking blood, which has been replaced in the film with a shot of some hooligans.

A version of this review has been published on Firstpost:

http://www.firstpost.com/bollywood/inspector-dawood-ibrahim-review-jayasurya-is-fun-to-watch-in-this-spoof-on-cop-films-2979726.html

Posters courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inspector_Dawood_Ibrahim

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zWxR-EXvwM

REVIEW 417: PRETHAM

Release date:	August 12, 2016
Director:	Ranjith Sankar
Cast: Language:	Jayasurya, Govind Padmasoorya, Sharafudheen, Aju Varghese, Pearl Maaney Malayalam

In a scene from Pretham, a mentalist called John Don Bosco guesses a man’s cellphone password simply by holding his hand. The cynical chap’s friend says excitedly: “Please do something similar with me.” Bosco replies without batting an eyelid: “What should I do? Rape you?” To which the said friend responds: “But I’m not a woman, no?” Sick!

Writer-director Ranjith Sankar positions this episode as light-hearted banter. Many scenes later, we witness Bosco fighting a moving battle on behalf of a woman targeted by voyeurism. Yes, the same Bosco who casually makes rape quips apparently feels strongly about the invasion of a woman’s privacy.

Does he have a split personality? No, Pretham does.

This is what happens when someone makes a “look at me, see how socially committed I am” kind of film without any genuine commitment.

Pretham is a supernatural thriller packaged in comedy. It is set in a gorgeous seaside resort in Kerala owned by three young men who have been friends since college. Shibu (played by Govind Padmasoorya) is a good-looking guy who takes Zumba classes at the resort and is having a Skype affair with his now-married ex-girlfriend. Denny Kokan (Aju Varghese) is a lecherous creep who leers at Shibu’s female Zumba students and tries to have a fling with one of them, a girl called Suhanissa played by the strikingly attractive Pearl Maaney. Priya Lal (Sharafudheen) is the simpleton of the group, smitten by Suhanissa.

Strange things start happening at the resort one day when Denny tries to shoot Suhanissa with his cellphone.

Is the place haunted? Or is a woman one of them misbehaved with trying to spook them? The answer comes in a surprising second half that is completely – and deliberately – at odds with the carefree tone of the first.

Pretham operates at two levels. The comedic elements actually work for the most part. The film scores with its delicious irreverence towards religion represented by the character Yesu (Dharmajan Bolgatty) who asks uncomfortable questions to a Christian priest and others.

The world needs more people who can let their hair down about faith, gods and goddesses. Pretham’s intelligent courage in that area is what makes its intermittently icky, if not thoroughly disgusting, attitude towards women so disappointing. Even before that horrendous rape remark, we are supposed to be entertained by Denny’s plan to secretly mix an aphrodisiac in Suhanissa’s drink. What next? Must we also laugh at boys slipping a roofie to a date?

The rape joke is especially obnoxious because it comes from Bosco, a man who is positioned as someone to be taken seriously within the universe of the film. Like him, Pretham’s attitude to women is confused and confusing. On the one hand it displays sensitivity in the denouement, on the other hand it treats Suhanissa in particular very trivially as a creature to be toyed with. Bosco, for instance, does not ask her to have a coffee with him, he ogles her to her face and asks if she will have “coffee, very hot coffee” (note the emphasis please). I almost expected him to lick his lips as he stared at her in that scene. Yuck!

Suhanissa is positioned as the kind of girl who would be described by conservative north Indians as “uss type ki ladki (that kind of girl)” and across most parts of India as the kind of girl you take to bed but not home to your mother. Read: an easy lay because, you know, her hair is permed, she is Westernised, she does Zumba, holds hands with men, goes into rooms alone with them, embraces men she is fond of without considering it a big deal and is sexually assertive when she meets a guy she likes… hawww, chhee, must definitely be “that type”, no?

All four men are very different in the film’s thriller strand, more mature, sobre and decent. These strangely inconsistent stances dilute the apparent intent of the film: to amuse, to scare and to make a point.

The change in tenor from comedy to whodunit as the story progresses is well handled and the big reveal in the end is unexpected. It succeeds despite the red herrings thrown in our direction. One of them involving a woman at the resort is rather intelligently dealt out, while others – suspended lamps moving in the dark, a resort employee appearing to be possessed – are stupid since no explanation is provided for them in the end.

Pretham makes multiple references to earlier Malayalam films in the horror genre, though the most telling mention of the lot is the 1978 classic Lisa. Keep in mind though that although this film has a supernatural element it is not, strictly speaking, a horror flick – it is at no point meant to be as frightening as it is meant to be suspenseful.

Pretham’s casting is spot on. Jayasurya brings gravitas to his role as Bosco and is a perfect foil to the three goofy friends at the centre of the drama. Padmasoorya, Varghese and Sharafudheen are natural actors. They share an easy chemistry and come across as real-life friends rather than actors playing roles.

The film is a mixed bag on the technical front. Most spaces in Pretham are inexplicably deserted. I recall spotting guests at the resort just once, and a college complex seems devoid of humans when Bosco first visits it. In another tech department though, Pretham comes up trumps: the film’s waterfront setting is stunning, and cinematographer Jithu Damodar exploits it to the hilt without appearing obsessive. The opening shot of the sea made me long for my next visit to God’s Own Country.

Pretham is a partly effective paranormal thriller-cum-comedy, diluted by its mixed-up attitude to women and an ugly rape quip.

Footnote on the subtitles: At one point one of the lead trio addresses an elderly neighbour sarcastically as “Ammachi”. This is a respectful Malayalam form of address for an older woman that, in this instance, is being used like some people might mockingly use “Aunty”. That’s all very well, but the subtitling team translated “Ammachi” to “you old hag”. Errr, even when Ammachi and Aunty are used as ageist taunts, neither word is ever as crude as “hag”.

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

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	127 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

http://www.firstpost.com/bollywood/pretham-review-jayasurya-stars-in-an-inconsistent-comedy-thriller-with-an-ugly-rape-quip-2954086.html

Poster courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pretham