Showing posts with label Vinayakan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vinayakan. Show all posts

Thursday, November 14, 2019

REVIEW 746: PRANAYA MEENUKALUDE KADAL


Release date:
Kerala: October 4, 2019
Delhi: November 8, 2019
Director:
Kamal
Cast:


Language:
Vinayakan, Padmavati Rao, Riddhi Kumar, Gabri Jose, Sreedhanya, Saiju Kurup, Dileesh Pothan
Malayalam


A poetic title, the reins in the hands of a multiple  National Award and Kerala State Award winning director, Kammatipaadam’s Vinayakan among the leads and a divine setting... Can this film possibly go wrong? 

Yes, terribly so, as becomes evident with every unfolding moment of Pranaya Meenukalude Kadal (A Sea of Romantic Fish). Kamal directs this tale of a mainlander who comes to Lakshadweep and falls in love with a pretty local girl, much to the chagrin of her grandmother who is fiercely protective of the child. Riddhi Kumar plays Jasmine whose mother, Dr Sulfat Beevi (Sreedhanya), and her mother, Bibi Noorjehan (Padmavati Rao), belong to the Arakkal family who once held sway over the entire island. The current Arakkal matriarch has her reasons for keeping Jasmine away from outsiders.

Among those watching over the girl is Noorjehan’s loyal and unquestioning lieutenant Hyder, played by Vinayakan. Ajmal (Gabri Jose), who is smitten from the moment he sets eyes on her, is undeterred though by the intimidation tactics employed against him. 

It all sounds like a revisitation of a charming, romantic ancient folktale about the quintessential outsider who wins the heart of an innocent damsel and wins her hand against all odds. Except that there is nothing romantic or charming about Ajmal or his courtship of Jasmine. At first it seems like their love story is going down the clichéd path of boy and girl meeting, clashing, disliking each other and then falling in love, that has been recycled a zillion times by Indian cinema across languages. That line is silly, tired and over-used, but Pranaya Meenukalude Kadal is much worse.

Firstly, Ajmal is both arrogant and a troublemaker. He is an aspiring actor and Mohanlal devotee who has been forced by his family to come to Lakshadweep as part of a crew refurbishing an old boat. The local top cop Eldho Sebastian is determined to keep his island free of crime, but Ajmal and his friends seem bent on clashing with the peaceful islanders.

As soon as Ajmal spots Jasmine, he begins his pursuit of her, despite repeated rejections. He photographs her without her permission. When she objects he photographs her some more, stalks her, and in one of the film’s most disturbing scenes, molests her while she is out diving in the sea. His behaviour is not what is terrifying though, what is terrifying is that the screenplay, which Kamal has co-written with John Paul, does not portray this behaviour as assault at all. Instead, being forcibly kissed by a man underwater stirs up emotions in Jasmine, and soon, she is hopelessly in love with Ajmal. 

It is one thing for this kind of dangerous nonsense to come from directors like S.S. Rajamouli, Sandeep Reddy Vanga or one of the many filmmakers that Akshay Kumar and Salman Khan have worked with, but what is one to say of this casual legitimisation of sexual assault by a director who has publicly strongly supported the women’s rights movement in the Malayalam film industry?

If Pranaya Meenukalude Kadal’s problematic gender politics is one nail in its coffin, the other is its stilted storytelling. The first half has promise when it is unclear which way Jasmine and the story will go. The second half is made cringe-worthy not only by her decision to back a sexual predator and the sexist portrayal of her grandmother, but by a director who seems awkward around the theme of love. This awkwardness is exemplified by the portrayal of a senior gentleman who has been pining for the woman he loves and ends up coming across as pathetic. It is epitomised though by a scene in which the young couple are shown singing on a boat, a scene that seems to be aiming for cuteness but comes across as totally silly instead.

It does not help Kamal’s cause that Gabri Jose has no screen presence and has even less chemistry with Riddhi Kumar. She, on the other hand, seems like someone who could be moulded into a worthy actor.

Frankly Kumar’s potential does not matter in the larger context though, nor does Padmavati Rao’s arresting personality, Sreedhanya’s engaging screen presence or Saiju Kurup’s reliability as an actor. It does not matter that Vinayakan is formidable on screen despite playing an under-written character, Lakshwadeep is breathtaking, Vishnu Panicker shoots this pristine location beautifully and that final confrontation in the sea is chilling. 

Pranaya Meenukalude Kadal’s positives and even its other negatives fade into insignificance in the face of the position it takes that the way to a woman’s heart is to physically attack her and violate her consent. To rub salt into the wounds already inflicted by this stand, Ajmal dares to equate their relationship with Karuthamma and Pareekutty in Chemmeen in a scene that is evidently shot as an ode to that great classic. That hurts.

Kamal’s last film Aami was bogged down by its hesitation to go all out in its critique of the sensitive topics it had chosen to take up, but this one travels in the opposite direction: it is an all-out insensitive film. 

Rating (out of five stars): 0.75


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

This review has also been published on Firstpost:


Visuals courtesy:


Monday, May 21, 2018

REVIEW 601: EE.MA.YAU.

Release date:
Kerala: May 4, Delhi: May 18, 2018
Director:
Lijo Jose Pellissery
Cast:


Language:
Chemban Vinod Jose, Vinayakan, Pouly Valsan, Dileesh Pothan, Kainakiri Thankaraj, Arya K.S., Krishna Padmakumar    
Malayalam


For a city kid, there is nothing more amusing or revelatory about rural life than a death in the family, complete with rituals, ritualistic wailing and more. Growing up in Delhi as I did, my earliest education in the way country folk react to the demise of an acquaintance or relative came with the loss of my beloved grandfather who was in Kerala at the time. I can never forget the bawling and chest-beating by a particular household help called Pathumma who, while no doubt fond of the man we all called Appachan, seemed to be moved to hollering out weird weepy tributes only in the first few minutes of the arrival of each fresh batch of guests paying their respects to him, relapsing magically into normalcy and even laughter immediately after. I watched goggle-eyed and listened as an entire mountainside reverberated with shrieks of “ Ende Appacho, the last time you spoke to me you asked me for biryani, but I did not make it. Now when will I ever get a chance to cook for youuuuuu?” etc etc.
 
My late aunt could summon up similar bouts of yelping and crying with every new visitor to her home for months after the loss of her husband.

Memories of Pathumma and my aunt came flooding back as I watched Lijo Jose Pellissery’s Ee.Ma.Yau. written by P.F. Mathews, the story of an impoverished man who promises his father impressive last rites just minutes before the old chap passes away. It would be easy to adopt a lampooning tone in such a tale, but Pellissery and Mathews are never patronising or reductive in their portrayal of characters and circumstances here. The result is a delightful slice of reality among a small community in a coastal village in Kerala and an unexpected overview of larger existential questions.
 
Chemban Vinod Jose plays Eeshi, son of the elderly alcoholic Vavachan (Kainakiri Thankaraj) who is in the habit of disappearing from home for long stretches of time. We realise there is more to his disappearances than eccentricity when, upon his latest return, we learn that his daughter-in-law Sabeth, short for Elizabeth (Arya K.S.), intends to spike his food with something she expects will keep him in check.
 

Vavachan’s wife Pennamma (Pouly Valsan) approves of the plan. Eeshi’s younger sister Nisa, short for Agnes (Krishna Padmakumar), is too wrapped up in a clandestine love affair to notice what they are up to.
 
When Vavachan collapses in the middle of a drinking and dancing session with Eeshi, his death sets off a chain of occurrences that offer a highly entertaining, sobering study of the community.
 
Ee.Ma.Yau. (short for Eesho Mariyam Yauseppe a.k.a. Jesus, Mary and Joseph) is a prayer for and a salutation to the dying and the dead used by certain sections of Malayali Christians. With this choice of title, Pellissery has once and for all shown that he was genuinely indifferent to the ludicrous review of his otherwise widely acclaimed Angamaly Diaries (2017) by a Malayalam TV channel believed to be close to the RSS, in which the critic objected to what he considered a surfeit of Christian imagery albeit in a film with a Christian leading man.
 
Angamaly Diaries created waves nationwide, revealing to cinephiles outside Kerala what viewers within the state already knew: that Pellissery is an acute observer of human behaviour. The director brings the same quality to Ee.Ma.Yau., offering viewers a satirical take on Eeshi’s funeral preps without ever allowing the comedy to descend into insensitivity even when people around him do.
 
Actor Chemban Vinod Jose, who made a smashing writing debut with Angamaly Diaries, displays his acting versatility as Eeshi here. His deadpan heartbreak at his father’s sudden death is vastly removed from his villainous turn in the recent Swathanthriyam Ardharathriyil, or his menacing, spine-chilling appearance as a vengeful, lustful creep in 2016’s Kali.

Other familiar faces in the cast include Vinayakan as Eeshi’s fond friend and Dileesh Pothan as the local priest with a proclivity for crime sagas. Both are characteristically excellent.


The rest of the cast are not stars, but they, like the established names, act as if they are real people written into a film script and being shot without their knowledge. Pouly Valsan as Eeshi’s mother comes up with a delicious take on a woman forced by social expectations to publicly, vociferously mourn an unfaithful spouse and using the opportunity to vent some steam. 

Constantly present in the background are two unidentified characters who nonchalantly play cards and chat while mayhem unfolds around them, a metaphorical representation of the unending cycle of life and death in the village. 

The other witness to the unstoppability of nature is Shyju Khalid’s camera which appears unconstrained although the action in Ee.Ma.Yau. revolves largely around Vavachan’s lifeless body. Khalid’s cinematography makes the film’s locales a pulsating presence in the plot. From that spectacular opening shot of an extravagant funeral procession on a pristine beach accompanying the credits, to the more unassuming, everyday frames within and outside the dead man’s home, to two particularly luscious shots of coconut palm tops swaying in the breeze, Khalid swings seamlessly from the lavish to the modest, aided by Deepu Joseph’s slick editing shorn of unnecessary flourishes. Together they ensure that we are aware of the beauty of the surroundings without ever allowing their glorious grandeur to overwhelm the emotional core of Ee.Ma.Yau.

Prashant Pillai’s music is sparingly employed but supremely effective when it is. Renganaath Ravee’s sound design is rich in detail though understated, especially in the use of rain as yet another reminder of the constancy of nature irrespective of the games humans play.
 
The technical polish in Ee.Ma.Yau. serves its purpose by enabling some great storytelling. By finding laughter in morbid situations and social commentary in the unlikeliest of places, in the tradition of other fine funeral films, Pellissery fashions Ee.Ma.Yau. into a keenly observant, fabulously funny insight into the politics, economics and theatrics around death.

Rating (out of five stars): ****

CBFC Rating (India):
Running time:
120 minutes 

This review has also been published on Firstpost: