REVIEW 485: SAKHAVU

Release date:	April 14, 2017
Director:	Sidhartha Siva
Cast: Language:	Nivin Pauly, Althaf, Aishwarya Rajesh, Binu Pappu, Gayathri Suresh, Aparna Gopinath, Sreenivasan, Musthafa, Tony Luke Kocherry, Santhosh Keezhattoor       Malayalam

A month after Tom Emmatty’s Oru Mexican Aparatha saluted Communism with a tale of the violent rivalry between student political organisations in Kerala, Sidhartha Siva’s Sakhavu (Comrade) comes to theatres to tell us what makes a true comrade. This one stars Nivin Pauly in a double role – as Krishna Kumar a.k.a. Kichchu, whose membership of the student outfit SFK is solely driven by his ambitions for himself; and as the younger version of a veteran Communist leader called Krishnan, willing to give up his life for workers’ rights. 

If you are not disposed to watch films opposed to your views, be warned: Sakhavu’s heart beats for Communism and it does not pretend otherwise. What works in its favour is that it does not allow its affection for Kerala’s old-time Marxists to turn into propaganda and falsehoods. It helps too that Pauly gets truckloads of screen time from start to finish.

The leading man’s charm dominates the first half of Sakhavu, which is devoted to Krishna Kumar’s shamelessly selfish plans that he has no qualms sharing with his friend and associate Mahesh played by Althaf. The interactions between these two are a hoot, not the least because there is no exaggeration here: their comedy mocks our bizarre and troubling reality, we have all been stung by hypocrites in politics who pretend to serve the people while serving themselves instead.

Siva’s smooth writing of these passages is bolstered by Pauly and Althaf’s spanking on-screen chemistry and comic timing. Althaf in particular is ROFLMAO-worthy (yes, that is a word) each time he opens his mouth to speak.

Sadly though, he virtually disappears in the second half, which goes back in time to the younger Krishnan’s battles on behalf of workers. This part is often thoughtful and thought-provoking, yet loses its way for various reasons. First, it stretches itself especially with the needless insertion of full-length songs in a narrative that could have done without them (the problem is not with Prashant Pillai’s numbers but that they have been used in their entirety).

Besides, the tone and politics of the second half contrast too sharply with the preceding portion.

Krishna Kumar’s story works because it takes a critical view of politics per se and Communist politicians in particular. Krishnan’s saga, however, is uncritical and one-dimensional, inhabiting a world divided simplistically between good workers and horrible bosses. The former are all unequivocally saintly folk whose actions must never be questioned, the latter are tarred with one stroke of the writers’ brush as exploitative, evil and cruel.

The film also reveals a prejudice evident in many Malayalam films where the outsider, especially the north Indian outsider, is viewed through a lens of othering if not outright suspicion. The one significant north Indian character in Sakhavu, a tea plantation and factory manager played by the attractive Tony Luke Kocherry, is a nasty piece of goods with no redeeming qualities. (Aside: the factory signboard bears the surname “Mehta” but the spelling “Mehatha” is used on a document the owner is shown signing – if this was not an instance of casualness and there is a deeper meaning here instead, I confess it was lost on me.)

These are issues particularly worth raising in a film that wears its conscience on its sleeve.

Still, there is no question that Sakhavu is well intentioned and serves its purpose with the mirror it holds up to politicians and young political aspirants, showing us in Sakhavu Krishnan and Krishna Kumar the contrast between the rare idealist and the insincere wannabe.

(Spoiler alert) One of the highlights of Sakhavu is Pauly, who slips into two characters and three distinct looks with such ease that after watching the film I went looking for the name of a third actor on the Internet, only to be reminded of the magic that can be worked when a talented actor and skilled make-up artist team up. (Spoiler alert ends)

Pauly is surrounded in this film by a strong supporting cast, including many familiar faces in tiny roles. Aishwarya Rajesh reminds us of her innate charisma in her performance as Sakhavu Krishnan’s wife Sakhavu Janaki, although she is poorly served by the make-up team in her senior avatar. The old Janaki’s youthful skin is a surprising let-down in a film where another young actor has been rendered almost unrecognisable by intelligent ageing make-up.

It is tempting to look past the follies of Sakhavu because so much of what it says resonates in the troubling, divisive times we live in, far beyond a discussion about the loss of Communist ideals. I watched the film in a packed west Delhi hall where the cheering audience’s love for Pauly seemed to rival their love for comrade-ery. They clapped loudly and repeatedly through Sakhavu Krishnan’s dialoguebaazi. To be honest, I too was tempted to let out a whoop of delight when Krishnan refused to reveal his surname to a wealthy landowner, saying that instead of being known by his caste and religion, he wished to be known by what his chosen first name – “Sakhavu” – indicated about him.

Sakhavu does not have the natural ease of Sidhartha Siva’s National Award-winning Ain from 2014 nor is it as thoroughly consistent as his sweet little Kochavva Paulo Ayyappa Coelho from last year, but it has its merits. Siva seems to have his heart in the right place, and he does, after all, make the point he sets out to make here, aided by one of the most interesting male stars of the present generation.

  

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

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	164 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

http://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/sakhavu-movie-review-comedy-nivin-pauly-are-stars-of-this-faltering-ode-to-a-communist-ideal-3386740.html

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

REVIEW 431: KOCHAVVA PAULO AYYAPPA COELHO

Release date:	Kerala: September 9, 2016. Delhi: September 16.
Director:	Sidhartha Siva
Cast: Language:	Kunchacko Boban, Master Rudraksh Sudheesh, Nedumudi Venu, K.P.A.C. Lalitha, Muthumani, Suraj Venjaramood, Mukesh, Sudheesh, Anusree, Aju Varghese, Musthafa, Irshad, Cameos: Biju Menon, Parvathy Ratheesh Malayalam

“When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”  This extract from Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist published in 1988 has been repeated so often, in private conversations and on public platforms, in works of art and speeches, that like Mozart’s music, many of us may be familiar with it even without knowing the source and author.

Bollywood buffs will recall Shah Rukh Khan’s character delivering this speech in Farah Khan’s Om Shanti Om (2007): “Itni shiddat se maine tumhe paane ki koshish ki hai, ki har zarre ne mujhe tumse milaane ki saazish ki hai. Kehte hai, agar kisi cheez ko dil se chaaho toh poori kaaynaat use tumse milaane ki koshish mein lag jaati hai.” Dear readers who don’t know Hindi, in a nutshell these words mean exactly what Coelho said.

The new Mollywood film Kochavva Paulo Ayyappa Coelho is a tribute to – and an endearing interpretation of – this oft-quoted gem from the Brazilian writer.

Director Sidhartha Siva’s film is about a diehard Coelho fan in the remote Kerala countryside who cites The Alchemist as often as the average Malayali man flips the edge of his mundu and tucks it into his waistband. The likes of Ajay Kumar a.k.a. Kochavva (played by Kunchacko Boban) are not uncommon in small towns and villages – golden-hearted unemployed people-pleasers who so enjoy serving the community, doing odd jobs, helping whoever needs help and being well loved as a result, that they forget to set the basics of their own lives in order.

In the mornings Kochavva teaches the local children to swim, in the evenings he is their cycling coach. He is the guy who can be depended on to help your family during a festival, a wedding or a funeral. Pressing errand to be run? Ask Kochavva. Emergency situation? Call Kochavva. How does he earn a living? Who knows? Not he.

In that same village lives little Ayyappa Das (Master Rudraksh Sudheesh) whose sole goal in life is to fly on a plane. Each time he is close to doing so, fate intervenes. And then the universe conspires to unite Ayyappa’s dream with Kochavva’s vision. The film is about what happens when the twain meet.

The best of children’s cinema worldwide works well for adults too. Kochavva Paulo Ayyappa Coelho (KPAC) may seem like a film for kids but it does not take their intelligence or ours for granted. It is packed with positivity and wise lessons clearly spelt out for the young ’uns, yet it serves up enough depth to challenge their intellect and keep grown-ups simultaneously engaged.

In aiming for its primary audience, it may occasionally dole out some broad brush strokes – such as the portrait of the village as an idyll and rural folk as almost uniformly good souls – but its intentions are so noble that this is not a criticism at all.

KPAC does not rely on its story’s appeal alone to keep audiences in their seats. It is a technically refined film with some nice camerawork by Neil D’Cunha (though it could have done with better lighting in a couple of scenes shot on the balcony of Ayyappa’s house), picturesque locations, songs that while not being earth shattering are still well suited to the mood of the narrative and some amusing dance choreography involving a bevy of mundu-clad, leg-flashing men.

Boban is the film’s producer and we are reminded at the start that this is his 75^th film as an actor. The decision to act in KPAC is a master move since on the face of it it may appear that a star has chosen to take a backseat to a child (a seeming act of courage, supreme confidence, even benevolence some would say), but that is not actually the case. One of the most impressive aspects of KPAC is the fine line Siva walks in his writing and direction to ensure that though Ayyappa is his narrator, neither character overshadows the other at any point.

Such subtlety is not unexpected from the man who made 2015’s Ain, winner of the National Award for Best Malayalam Feature Film. That film was about a purposeless, intellectually slow village laggard. Maanu from Ain was innocence personified, but as different from Kochavva as chalk is from cheese.

This brings us to an important point raised in KPAC. Kochavva is professionally goalless, yet it is clear that he has it in him to be otherwise from the concerted manner in which he sets off to help Ayyappa realise his dreams. In a state wracked with unemployment, there are too many young men out there with misplaced hopes of marrying their lovers irrespective of whether either partner has a known source of income – as if households can be run on love and sexual chemistry. Kochavva is one such fellow. Fortunately, the film does not romanticise this aspect of his character, reminding him instead that he needs to get practical about the business of living.

Perhaps this point could have been further underlined, but at least it is raised, unlike so many other films that do not seem to bat an eyelid about such matters. Considering that so much thought has gone into the messaging in KPAC, it is doubly disappointing that the film unexpectedly chooses to take a misogynistic – even if passing – stand on household duties. Describing the context of that statement would involve spoilers, so I’ll leave it at pointing to a highly regressive lament by a husband in the story who clearly subscribes to the view that home management is a woman’s job rather than a shared responsibility. Et tu Sidhartha Siva?

This passage strikes a highly discordant note in an otherwise uplifting film. It is the reason why book and film consumption by children has to be accompanied by conversations with parents who could provide a much-needed counterpoint to the prejudice we see even in the most well-loved classics, the most entertaining contemporary works.

And entertaining KPAC certainly is. Boban is in fine fettle as the guileless, literarily inclined Kochavva. His amiable screen persona – likeable yet not overpowering in a larger-than-life kind of way – makes him the right fit too for this role.

Rudraksh Sudheesh – whose father, actor Sudheesh, also has a small part in KPAC – is a talent to watch out for. The scene stealer though is the sweetheart playing his kid cousin Ambili.

The character that had me choking on my popcorn with laughter was Susheelan played by the inimitable Suraj Venjaramood. He is the closest you get to a villain in this sanitised film – a mischief maker rather than a frighteningly evil man. Comical drunken louts have been done a million times in Indian commercial cinema, but I tell ya no one can do drunk quite like Venjaramood. He is an intoxicant unto himself.

The film’s cast is a veritable role call of Malayalam cinema’s pre-eminent character actors. The venerable Nedumudi Venu and K.P.A.C. Lalitha play Ayyappa’s grandparents with a loveable charm that comes as naturally to them as breathing comes to the rest of us. Then there is Irshad as Ayyappa’s father, Maniyanpilla Raju as Kochavva’s girlfriend’s dad, Mukesh as a kind stranger in Bengaluru and Biju Menon in a tiny cameo of the sort that films have when they know viewers are already enjoying a game of spot-the-star. Musthafa who played Maanu in Ain makes a small yet memorable appearance as Ayyappa’s uncle.

Hats off to Kunchacko Boban for backing Kochavva Paulo Ayyappa Coelho, which will no doubt attract far more eyeballs because of the star association. It deserves every iota of attention it gets. A pity that it has been released outside Kerala without English subtitles considering that it has the potential to resonate beyond language barriers.

If you make a trip to a theatre to watch KPAC, make sure you are in time to catch the opening credits that play out against an animation-cum-live-action introduction by Ayyappa. Barring one jarring note, this is intelligent cinema for children and their chaperones. KPAC is a darling film.

Rating (out of five): ***

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	147 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

http://www.firstpost.com/bollywood/kochavva-paulo-ayyappa-coelho-review-kunchacko-boban-backs-intelligent-cinema-for-children-3008426.html

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