REVIEW 670: NINE / 9

Release date:	February 7, 2019
Director:	Jenuse Mohamed
Cast: Language:	Prithviraj Sukumaran, Alok, Wamiqa Gabbi, Mamta Mohandas, Prakash Raj, Rahul Madhav Malayalam with Hindi

A little boy stands watching a solar eclipse with his father in 1990 with a rough-hewn contraption on his head. The scientist Dad disabuses him of misconceptions about this natural phenomenon that have been spread by superstitious and ignorant folk. Never stop asking questions even when adults tell you that not every question has an answer, the father says.

Fast forward to the present day, the child Albert has grown up to be a respected astrophysicist, still asking questions. He is also a widower struggling with the upbringing of his son Adam who is constantly getting into trouble.

Meanwhile, humankind is awaiting the passing of a red comet at unprecedented proximity to Earth. Electromagnetic waves from the comet are expected to cut off all electrically operated equipment for nine days. With even the smallest of batteries bound to be affected, and no modern means of transport available, a panicked public stocks up supplies and riots break out in some places. Albert for his part takes off for the Himalayas with Adam for a research project. Their lives go haywire following the arrival of the comet and a woman called Ava in their home. 

9, as the news media has already reported, is Sony Pictures Entertainment’s first foray into an Indian film industry other than Bollywood (for heaven’s sake please let’s stop using that awful, marginalising term “regional cinema”). It has been produced in collaboration with Malayalam superstar Prithviraj Sukumaran’s newly minted production house.

Prithviraj multi-tasks with this project, also playing Albert on whose shoulders the entire film rests and Albert’s father in his prologue appearance. The film is based on an intriguing premise that merges the very human fear of the unknown with mental health issues, science, the supernatural and a disturbed father-son relationship, the starting block of which is the fact that the boy Adam’s mother died in childbirth. Adam (played by the child actor Alok from Clint) is thus a constant reminder of what Albert lost that his son may be born.

Writer-director Jenuse Mohamed’s plot takes a while to lift off. At first a needless, obvious effort is made to up the already satisfactorily restless atmosphere with some manipulative camerawork especially in the introduction of Albert’s mentor Dr Inayat Khan (Prakash Raj) and shots focused on Albert’s face, and a pointless romantic number involving a flashback to Albert’s late wife Annie (Mamta Mohandas) ends up being stilted and clichéd.

9 truly gets into the groove though as soon as the comet and Ava (Wamiqa Gabbi) enter the picture. Once that happens, Mohamed and his able cast, backed by Shameer Muhammed’s slick editing and Arun Ramavarma’s sophisticated sound design, roll out a thoroughly engaging, perfectly paced narrative. Past the problematic initial half hour, DoP Abinandhan Ramanujam strikes a fine balance between closing in on the characters and pulling out to give us an eyeful of the pristine Himalayan setting of most of the film. With a first-rate team on board, Mohamed delivers a psychological-meets-the-paranormal thriller that remains captivating till the big reveal in the climax.

Prithviraj’s controlled performance as Albert, particularly after he figures out the mysterious goings-on around him, is the fulcrum of 9’s effectiveness. A big salute to him too for his diction while delivering the considerable number of Hindi dialogues assigned to Albert.

(As an aside here, it is worth mentioning that Indian cinemas other than Hindi/Bollywood are far more representative of pan-India cultures and languages than is Hindi cinema which almost entirely confines itself to the Hindi belt or at best to other parts and peoples of north India. Sometimes though, the use of Hindi in Malayalam films feels strained, as though Hindi is seen by the writer as aspirational and a mark of coolth, somewhat mirroring the average Hindi filmmaker’s attitude to English – this can be irritating. The use of Hindi in 9’s dialogues works because the language is relevant to the setting and context, but sounds forced in that song featuring Albert and Annie although it is set in Delhi.)

Little Alok is a remarkably mature actor, his confidence is especially impressive in the scenes he shares with his seasoned co-star.

Gabbi may seem to be overdoing her work in places, but be patient – in the end it becomes clear that she is actually spot on with her take on Ava. The writer’s choice of gender for this character is interesting.

Mohandas’ charming personality makes her an apt casting call for a wife that a man might find impossible to get over.

In addition to its focus on science and rationality, 9 is important because it spotlights mental health concerns in a cleverly artistic way designed to invite audience empathy. However, at a crucial juncture it comes across as being confused in its understanding of this sensitive subject. (Spoiler alert) Why and how on earth, for instance, does a cosmologist and not a psychiatrist/psychologist/therapist diagnose and counsel a seriously unwell individual? And what was the writer thinking showing this ‘counsellor’ intimidating and threatening the patient with a deadline to get sorted? (Spoiler alert ends) This review is not expecting 9 to have been a documentary on mental wellness, but considering the widespread ignorance in this matter in India and the prevailing attitude of “this is how such people should be handled”, the film’s casualness in that brief scene, including incorrect terminology, is unacceptable.

9 then is not all smooth sailing, but because its missteps largely occur in passing (the mixed-up portrayal of mental health, the use of a stereotypical black-is-for-evil-white-is-for-good colour palette among other things), once it settles into its rhythm, it is never less than entertaining and largely thought-provoking.

Besides, I would willingly pay the price of two tickets to watch any film in which Prithviraj Sukumaran is in good form. He is here.

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

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	149 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/9-movie-review-the-lovely-prithviraj-an-intriguing-premise-share-space-with-confusing-treatment-of-mental-health-6051611.html

Poster courtesy:

https://www.facebook.com/PrithvirajSukumaran/

REVIEW 494: GODHA

Release date:	Kerala: May 19, 2017. Delhi: May 26, 2017.
Director:	Basil Joseph
Cast: Language:	Tovino Thomas, Renji Panicker, Wamiqa Gabbi, Aju Varghese, Parvathy   Malayalam

A village playground in Kerala was director Ranjan Pramod’s playing field in the sweetly evocative Rakshadhikari Baiju Oppu released this April. The action shifts to a mud wrestling pit in small-town Kerala in Basil Joseph’s Godha starring Renji Panicker as a veteran gatta gusthi coach whose sport is losing to cricket in the popular psyche.

Captain, as Panicker’s character is called, is struggling not just with growing indifference within the community, but within his home too. His own son Das (Tovino Thomas) was a promising wrestler but gave it up. Dad sends the boy off to Punjab for higher studies, where he meets ace wrestler Aditi Singh (endearingly spelt “Adithi” in the English subtitles, as most Malayalis would). Aditi is played by Wamiqa Gabbi. Through a series of circumstances, the two end up back in Das’ village where each goes through a coming-of-age journey.

The most telling moment in Godha comes when the embattled heroine, who is being bullied by her family to give up her passion in favour of marriage, tells the hero: “Nobody wants a Sakshi Malik in their own house until and unless she wins an Olympic medal.” It is a remark that ought to shake us up and shame us, considering that we come from a society where successful women are often toasted by people who do not acknowledge the discrimination against women in their own homes. Unfortunately, the screenplay never rises above its many promising parts. What should have been a powerful sports film remains pleasant and entertaining throughout, but fails to be the gripping, compelling saga it could have been.

The concept is brimming with potentially explosive elements: a young south Indian man moving to north India for an education and a young north Indian woman heading off to the south to escape oppression, in a nation where the north-south divide is far deeper than we would like to admit; gender bias; politics in sports...each is touched upon in an interesting fashion at first. As the movie moves on though, charming as it is in so many ways, it becomes evident that it lacks heft.

Comparisons with Aamir Khan’s Dangal are inevitable, although that was a non-Malayalam film, because it too dealt with women in wrestling and it captured the imagination of audiences outside the Hindi belt too. Unfortunately for Godha, although Basil Joseph appears to be a confident director, the film’s screenplay needed to be much more than what it is. For instance, Aditi’s battles with her family’s conservatism and in the wrestling arena are too easily won. Das’ self-discovery is not explored with any depth once his father takes the girl under his wing. And Captain too remains more an idea than a fully fleshed out person.

It is largely a measure of the natural charisma of all three artistes and the supporting cast that they manage to keep the narrative engaging despite the shortcomings in the writing. Thomas – fresh from the recent success of Oru Mexican Aparatha – is likeable here. He must also be complimented on the well-chiselled physique he reveals (without the camera making a song and dance of it) when we see him wrestling. Gabbi is luminous, but what is far more striking is the way she gets the body and body language of a wrestler right. Panicker infuses warmth into the proceedings in a way only he can. And Aju Varghese as Das’ friend is a hoot, as he always is (barring a couple of instances of creepy behaviour by the character, which are presented as comedy).

It is particularly good to see the way Hindi, Punjabi and English are used by the dialogue writer, and the way languages flow in conversations in Godha as they would in real life if an open-minded north Indian were to travel to Kerala. The Malayalis in the film are shown trying to communicate as best as they can with her in the languages she knows, and after she spends some time in Kerala, she reciprocates the effort with Malayalam.

This, along with the strength of the assembled cast, the convincing realistic tone and the humour in the interactions between the characters keep this film going. If the script had half as much muscle as the average wrestler’s body, Godha could have been something special. As it is, Basil Joseph’s film stops at being nice. He is obviously a director with promise, so hopefully in his next venture he will pay more attention to the writing department (which, in any case, is the cornerstone of any good film) before assembling other impressive parts. Here’s looking at you, Mr Joseph!

  

Rating (out of five stars): **1/4

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	120 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

http://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/godha-movie-review-a-malayalam-dangal-filled-with-warmth-but-lacking-muscle-3489607.html

Poster courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Godha_(film)

REVIEW 207: SIXTEEN

Release date:	July 12, 2013
Director:	Raj Purohit
Cast: Language:	Wamiqa Gabbi, Izabelle Leite, Mehak Manwani, Highphill Mathews, Keith Sequeira, Zakir Husain, Varun Jhamb, Rohan Mehra  English and Hindi

Sixteen is the sweet surprise of the week… The film is set in a public school in Delhi where 16-year-olds Tanisha, Anu, Nidhi and Ashwin study. Tanisha – oblivious to the fact, as most teenagers are, that she’s not very old – is convinced she’s unlucky in relationships, not just of the romantic kind. A parentless child, she lives with her young and single aunt in South Extension. Anu is a brazenly self-assured aspiring model who stubs out relationships as ruthlessly as cigarettes that have run out. She is soon to discover that her idyllic family is not quite what it seems to be. Nidhi is confident in her own way, keen to please her boyfriend yet determined to lose her virginity only when she feels the time is right. As is the case with so many families, she’s doted on by her father and resents her vigilant mother who in turn feels Dad is trying to win a popularity contest with his daughter. Ashwin, the quiet one of the lot, is not as well-off as the three girls. He is tormented by his unrequited love for Tanisha and his physically abusive father who is determined to make him an IAS officer.

When we meet the four at the start of the film, one of them is about to slit a wrist, the other is propositioning a man twice her age, the third is lying distraught in a hospital bed and the fourth has a gun aimed at someone. The film then retraces its steps, taking us through the events of the previous months that brought them to this pass.

Sixteen’s effectiveness comes from its no-nonsense storytelling style – no fuss, no frills, no judgments passed while dealing with issues of teen sex, alcohol and cigarette consumption, career planning, porn watching, peer pressure, family pressure and love. While it does not indulge in preachy moralising (name one kid who would listen if it did), make no mistake about this: it’s not glorifying irresponsible behaviour. If you have sex, guess what? You could get pregnant. An abortion is no cakewalk, honey. Parents are human. That mother you consider irritating is your well-wisher… All this is woven into the story sans sermons. To top it all, it’s entertaining. Striking that balance is not easy, but writer-director Raj Purohit – also the film’s editor and lyricist – pulls it off with the aid of his co-scriptwriter Pawan Sony. There’s an occasional stilted English dialogue here and there, but for the most part the characters switch from English to Hindi and back using a vocabulary that urban Indians naturally do.

The casting of Sixteen is impeccable. In fact, the actors feel more like real people than actors. Brazilian model Izabelle Leite lends spunk and glamour to Anu’s role (honestly, if I hadn’t googled her I wouldn’t have guessed she’s a foreigner, nor known that her voice has been dubbed). Mehak Manwani as Nidhi delivers her lines with such a trademark rich-English-speaking-Delhi-kid accent and tone that you’ve got to wonder whether she forgot there’s a camera around and is simply being herself. Wamiqa Gabbi as the wise-beyond-her-years Tanisha gets the most lines and screen space, and lives up to the challenge. Highphill Mathews’ broodingly unhappy Ashwin is the least feisty of the characters and barely has any lines. He too rises to the challenge. The foursome get able support from their adult co-stars including veteran character actor Zakir Husain playing Ashwin’s father; pretty television actress Prabhleen Sandhu as Tanisha’s bua, and VJ-cum-model Keith Sequeira who enters their lives as Vikram Kapoor, a 32-year-old writer from London who wants to soak in Delhi for his next novel and so takes up residence with them as a paying guest.

I specify Vikram’s age because it’s a reminder of how un-Bollywood-ish this film is. In an industry where men in their mid-40s are prone to playing teenaged IIT students and same-age lovers to actresses half their age, you do stop for a moment when a 32-year-old male character actually looks 32. In an industry where a gap of 20 years between heroes and heroines is routine, and a film is not considered an older-man-younger-woman romance until the hero is 45 years older (like Bachchan with Jiah Khan in Nishabd), it’s amusing to hear a 16-year-old girl tell a 32-year-old man that she wants to know his age to be sure he’s not a paedophile. Keith gets the tenor of his Vikram just right. He could have ended up looking sleazy, but does not. He’s precisely what a cheeky teen might describe to her friends as a “hot uncle”.

Sixteen is also imbued with a feel of Delhi without unimaginatively thrusting architectural landmarks in our faces. So while we do get scenes at India Gate and CP, and St Columba’s School is a strong presence, the scent of the city wafts around elsewhere too. Delhi Metro trains drown out a harsh father, and at some point it sinks in that Tanisha’s parents must have died in a major fire this city is yet to forget.

The technical departments of the film (costumes, lighting, makeup, cinematography, editing) all step up to give Sixteen what it’s clearly aiming at: a very real feel. It’s also a clever ploy to give the background score a thriller edge when Vikram is around. If there’s one thing I’d wish away, it would be the philosophising about teenagers through a TV show with Vikram in the end. That passage doesn’t match the film’s otherwise non-speechy tone. If you watch Sixteen, don’t go looking for a massive epic and what you’ll get is what it is: NOT a nostalgia ride harking back to your own youth, but an insightful slice of urban, upper-crust teen life precisely as it is today.

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

CBFC Rating (India):	U/A
Running time:	138 minutes (as per pvrcinemas.com)

Photograph courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/SixteenTheFilm

Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/SixteenTheFilm