REVIEW 437: PULIMURUGAN

Release date:	October 7, 2016
Director:	Vysakh
Cast: Language:	Mohanlal, Kamalini Mukherjee, Jagapati Babu, Lal, Suraj Venjaramood, Kishore, Namitha, Makarand Deshpande, Siddique, Master Ajas Malayalam

Three weeks before Bollywood biggies Ae Dil Hai Mushkil and Shivaay release on the same day, Mollywood is dealing with its own Clash of the Titans. The Mohanlal-starrer Pulimurugan comes to theatres on the same weekend as Thoppil Joppan featuring Mammootty, and fans of both Ms are vying with each other to make their respective idol’s film a hit.

This perhaps explains why, in a packed Gurgaon hall where I watched Pulimurugan, several rows were taken up by zealously cheering, committed Lalettan fans who clapped, yelled out appreciative remarks, gave repeated standing ovations through the film, whistled and early in the opening scenes, screamed out their raucous support for a little kid on screen because they knew he would grow up to be good ol’ ’Ettan.

Fortunately, unlike many male fan packs I have witnessed in the past, they did not pass creepy comments about the women in the film.

Pulimurugan is similar to such adoring viewers – it is loud, it merits attention to the extent that it is entertaining, and it needs to be called out when it is crass (which, sadly, it often is).

Director Vysakh’s latest spiced-up venture comes to theatres shortly after Priyadarshan’s Oppam which starred Mohanlal as a blind man falsely accused of a crime. That film, despite its flaws, was credible and soothing to the senses in comparison. It would take a hardcore Lalettan admirer to ignore his expansive frame here as he battles human-eating tigers in a forest in Kerala. When it’s The Lord of Mollywood Vs The Lord of the Jungle, what does a star devotee care?

Pulimurugan, as the grown-up Murugan is known, is willing to sacrifice everything to protect his people, because they gave him shelter when he and his infant brother were orphaned. The root cause of his animosity towards the big cat is the killing of his father at the hands of one such beast. Now an adult, he is a legend of sorts among the local populace although the Forest Department is constantly on the lookout for him.

The title – derived from the hero’s nickname – literally means Big Cat Murugan / Wildcat Murugan / Leopard Murugan. There are many clashes in this film, all of them involving the hero, of course, though none with leopards: clashes between Pulimurugan and tigers, between him and the authorities, him and his beloved but short-tempered wife, and ultimately, between him and the human villains of the story.

The film is set almost entirely in jungles, thus giving cinematographer Shaji Kumar plenty of opportunities to rob us of our breath with the visuals he lays out on screen. I particularly loved the rock formations that were in evidence throughout.

Even more striking than those pillars of the wild, the green of the trees, the blue of the skies, the crystal clear waters and the ominous air of the forest though are those tigers that populate Pulimurugan. Stunt director Peter Hein (who has earlier worked on Bahubali, among other action blockbusters) joins forces with Kumar and Lalettan to deliver breathtakingly exciting shots of battles between the film’s hero and those mighty striped creatures (not computer-generated animals alone, a real tiger too was used, as I’ve gathered from reports). The SFX work on these extensive passages is also impressive. This is the main selling point of Pulimurugan.

Of course the use of a live animal in a film raises complex ethical questions that should ideally prompt a debate on the issue. While there is not enough space in this review to dwell on the matter, the fact too is that there is no space for complexity or nuance in Pulimurugan.

The hero kills tigers when they strike at humans, but there is no discussion in the film about the human-animal conflict – and no, Mister Vysakh, that passing sentence uttered by actor Lal’s character, about why he will not kill a cobra from which he just saved a friend, is not enough. And no again, “discussion” does not mean you should have made a documentary – serious commentary is possible even in a commercial fiction feature, unless your goals are strictly low-brow.

Perhaps this criticism amounts to expecting too much from a film in which there is a running joke about a man whose defining trait is that he peeps into bathrooms when women are bathing. The only thing that distinguishes Pulimurugan from Mammootty’s recent ode to misogyny, Kasaba, on this front is that the vulgarity here is authored by a character other than the leading man. It is worth mentioning though that the fellow in question (played by Suraj Venjaramood) is a dear friend of the protagonist and is positioned as a good guy.

Ewww!

As usual, Mohanlal’s character in Pulimurugan is married to a woman played by an actress young enough to be his daughter (Kamalini Mukherjee). To further assure audiences of his virility, he pats her butt at one point, there is innuendo galore involving him and another character bedding their wives, and for those of us who have the audacity to note that a stupendous actor has physically let himself go over the decades, there is a young, busty, midriff-flashing woman (Namitha) who leers at him and is open about her desire to mate with him.

All this in a film that has been generously awarded a U rating by the Censor Board.

So yeah, the SFX are good, the tiger fights are thrilling and oddly enough, even in a film where he is required to be OTT, Mohanlal manages to eke out moments of meaning. It is hard to resist those speaking eyes despite the cacophony that surrounds him.

But the combined strength of Lalettan, the tigers, the suspenseful action and the humour when it is not crude is not enough to drown out the loudness and crassness of Pulimurugan.

This one I guess is for the forgiving Mohanlal fan or action enthusiasts who are willing to close their eyes to a lack of refinement and sensitivity.

Rating (out of five): **

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	161 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

http://www.firstpost.com/bollywood/pulimurugan-review-the-lord-of-the-jungle-vs-mohanlal-lord-of-mollywood-vs-crassness-3041112.html

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

REVIEW 433: ORU MUTHASSI GADHA

Release date:	Kerala: September 14, 2016. Delhi: September 23.
Director:	Jude Anthany Joseph
Cast: Language:	Rajini Chandy, Bhagyalakshmi, Suraj Venjaramood, Lena, Aparna Balamurali, Vineeth Srinivasan, Vijayaraghavan, Rajeev Pillai, Dharmajan Bolgatty, Cameo: Lal Jose Malayalam

An ill-tempered old woman makes life hell for her son, daughter-in-law and grandkids, until she meets a person who looks past the raspish surface and finds the human being it camouflages.

Jude Anthany Joseph’s Oru Muthassi Gadha (OMG, meaning, A Granny’s Mace) is the story of a muthassi (grandma) and an unlikely friendship that transforms her. Joseph made his directorial debut with the 2014 romcom Ohm Shanthi Oshaana (OSO). Comedy is his preferred genre, as is evident from the light-hearted veneer he uses in his second film to raise many crucial questions about attitudes to age and ageing – not questions of the superficial, populist kind.

In 2003, Bollywood scored a hit with Baghban starring Amitabh Bachchan and Hema Malini as a couple neglected by their grown-up children. The film’s black-and-white worldview virtually canonised the parents, tarred all their kids as uniformly, irredeemably evil, deified the patriarchal family set-up through rose-tinted glasses and romanticised the idolisation of the husband.

Baghban played to the gallery with two notions widely propagated in the public sphere in India: that all mothers and fathers are great, and that all children ought to care for their Mums and Dads. Umm… What about paedophile Dads, or Moms who remain silent about such abuse? What about parents who discriminate between girls and boys, who bully and manipulate children over their professional and marital choices? What about the millions who have kids not out of affection for kids but as a social obligation or as insurance for their old age? What about the extreme conservatism of Baghban’s parents? Or the boorishness of OMG’s Muthassi?

Mollywood’s latest offering is braver, more sensible and subtle than Bollywood’s Baghban or the public discourse on parent-child equations. Joseph does not resort to one-sided blame games. He does not, for instance, waver in portraying Muthassi’s nastiness yet reminds us too of those who think that taking care of parents means just sharing a home, feeding and clothing them, without quality time and conversations anywhere in the picture.

Despite the seriousness of the preceding paragraphs, make no mistake about this: OMG is a breezy film. Joseph’s penchant for the funny bone is complemented by his cast. The very pretty, ultra elegant debutant Rajini Chandy plays Muthassi (whose name, by the way, is Leelamma). Chandy, 65, was reportedly found through auditions of seniors who responded to Joseph’s ad. Good choice considering her confident performance that belies her lack of experience.

Veteran dubbing artiste Bhagyalakshmi plays her bête-noir-cum-buddy Susamma. This charming actress metamorphoses from a huggable granny to an authority figure in a jiffy, even dancing unselfconsciously to a song in which she is joined by the feisty Chandy.

Of the supporting cast, a special word must go to the lovely Suraj Venjaramood as Muthassi’s son Siby, Lena as his wife Jean, sweet Aparna Balamurali as their daughter and the hunky Rajeev Pillai as her boyfriend. Balamurali also plays young Muthassi, a casting move that works because of clever styling. Not so effective is the decision to have Vineeth Srinivasan playing the young Muthassi’s college mate – the poor chap is incongruous in a pre-degree classroom. 

Still, OMG is a well-packaged product. Shaan Rahman’s up-tempo background score and songs provide a fitting (even if not memorably melodic) backdrop to the story. And DoP Vinod Illampally delivers many picturesque views of Kerala, though I must confess I would have loved to see more close-ups – and atypical ones at that – of the two leading ladies’ fetching faces.

This is also where the narrative falls short. It looks at a bigger picture throughout, and is entertaining while it does so, but does not get sufficiently intimate with Leelamma or Susamma.

That said, Joseph has shown himself to be an interesting risk taker with OMG. He has gone from casting young stars like Nivin Pauly and Nazriya Nazim in OSO to centering a film around two elderly unknown faces playing women who are decades past the age when Indian cinema loses interest in the female half of our population. (Aside: OMG’s story idea is credited to Pauly.)

This film veers away from stereotypes in other areas too: such as the ma-in-law-daughter-in-law relationship that is troubled yet not the stuff social lore and cinema are made of, or Siby and Jean’s partnership. This is that rare mainstream Indian film which does not see humour, spousal subjugation or a talking point in a man who shares the domestic workload with his wife.

It is also a relief when a filmmaker relies on his sharp wit rather than prejudice, mindlessness and slapstick tomfoolery to create comedy – not counting a father in OMG implying that his teeny tiny chit of a son is too turned on to see straight in the presence of his teeny tiny chit of a classmate (the Dad’s language is not as crude as mine, the thought is); a woman attributing her fondness for alcohol to the fact that she is Syrian Christian, thus blithely perpetuating one of Mollywood’s favourite stereotypes; and a young man’s stammer being used as a joke.

Thankfully, these are fleeting moments of indolence from a writer-director who otherwise displays an uncommon ability to poke fun at social groups without furthering hate, clichés or harmful biases. A fine example is that uproarious scene in OMG in which a bunch of people mimic a Charismatic Christian prayer meeting. Elsewhere, the manner in which a character is routinely referred to in terms of his community and not by his name is a stark reminder of how even seemingly good folk in India openly reveal their suspicions of “the other” – like the “saala Bihari hai kya?” (are you a damned Bihari?) taunt so casually thrown around in Delhi.

This is a film that compels us to think while we laugh. It does so largely without preaching. By the time it does deliver a sermon – in a terribly contrived scene featuring a pointless cameo by director Lal Jose – I was in a forgiving mood since I had enjoyed so much that had gone before.

OMG’s heroines are older than most of us, but we could all learn from their journey. During a discussion on Muthassi’s pre-degree, you realise she is barely in her 60s. Age, health and finances are on her side, yet she has so far depended on others to steer her life and generate happiness for her. What stopped her from making her own road, except the conviction that she is someone else’s responsibility and not her own? OMG raises questions we Indians are not socially permitted to ask. I doff my hat to Joseph for asking them and having a lark while he is at it.

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

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	114 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

http://www.firstpost.com/bollywood/oru-muthassi-gadha-review-fun-frolic-and-common-sense-with-two-feisty-grandmas-3019396.html

Footnote on Subtitles: OMG’s subtitling team repeatedly translates “thalla” as “old hag”. No doubt “thalla” (which literally means “mother” in Malayalam) can be a pejorative term, but it is not sexist like “hag”. I remember Pretham subtitling “Ammachi” as “you old hag”. “Ammachi” is a respectful form of address for a mother or any elderly woman, but was used sardonically in Pretham. Dear subtitlers, next time try “old woman”. It far more accurately captures the degree of derision in “thalla” and in “Ammachi” in that context.

Posters courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/orumutassigada/

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