Sunday 5 February 2012

My Website


Hi all

I have opened a website http://www.sridharsubramaniam.org. Henceforth, this site will serve as my blog, my place, the source for all my work. You will find this site better organised and more accessible.



As of today, the blog Reviews - Tamil Films remains closed.

- Sridhar

Monday 16 January 2012

Nanban


Cast: Vijay, Srikanth, Jiiva, Satyaraj, Illeyana, Music: Harris Jeyaraj, Direction: Shankar

Nanban is a faithful, fame-by-frame remake of 3 Idiots. And that is its strength; because how else do you improve something that has already reached perfection? Shankar, skilful and abundantly talented, has also exhibited ample humility, a rare commodity in Indian film industry. In his vision for Nanban, Shankar has apparently had a simple requirement: appropriate casting. With just one exception – you know who – the film’s cast works perfectly. There’s much needed bonding between the three male leads. From the millimetre boy to the college principle you could not think of any other artist more suitable to play the roles already made immensely memorable by the 3 Idiots cast. Kudos to Shankar for having had the clarity to stick to the requirement. It is produced with such a clockwork precision that the duration is almost the same as the original. 3 Idiots – 170 mins, Nanban – 168 mins. How did Shankar manage this with one extra song plugged in is a wonder!

Talking about the clarity and humility, another example comes to mind. Vasoolraja MBBS, a remake of Munnabhai MBBS was a botched up, over-confident remake that, with a juvenile flourish, vandalised the Mona Lisa by drawing a moustache and a beard. Kamal Hasan’s haughty presence and indulgent sermons completely ruined the experience perfected by Sanjay Dutt’s simple, rustic and innocent charm. Sanjay Dutt is no Kamal Hasan, but Kamal fell miles short of the expectation because, obviously, he thought he could do much better job than Sanjay.

Vijay is no Amir Khan. Thankfully he knows it and he also knows his stock of limited emotions. Therefore he makes good use of them in attempting to portray this bubbly, goofy and quirky student. Understandably, Shankar’s presence too must have helped in toning and polishing the performance. But the very fact that we’re not able to imagine another Tamil actor for this role is, it must be admitted albeit grudgingly, a victory for Vijay.

Back to the director: Shankar can’t live without his five set piece songs. To include them in the films, he doesn’t offer the standard excuse that other directors give: that the audience like the songs and dances. Shankar includes them because he himself loves them: he enjoys planning, shooting and producing these songs. He must have felt a bit disappointed because the remake of 3 Idiots did not provide him the option for his set piece songs. So what does he do? He turns Zoobi Dhoobi song on its head to ‘Shankarise’ it and capture all his five songs in one. To make it clear to the viewer of his intentions, he captures each stanza from the shooting spot with the clap-board introducing the type of each song! That is the extent of originality the script allows and he makes the best use of it. Ingenious!

Friday 30 December 2011

Eesan


Cast: Samuthirakani, Vaibhav, A L Alagappan, Abhinaya; Music: James Vasanthan; Direction: M Sasikumar 


Most of you would remember those 80s Hindi films. A classic example is Tezab, a film we all remember, thankfully for that infectiously peppy song. From the outset you knew the director didn't start the production with a bound script. In fact he had not so much of a plotline scribbled behind a bus ticket. Almost every second film in the 80s followed this trend.

The film starts obviously with the introduction of the hero, with a fight if he was an action hero or a song if he was a romantic hero. Then the heroine is introduced, either with a song or with an encounter with the hero. Then the villains are introduced, often with a thundering sound and also with some cruel act performed by him. Yes, the villain is always 'him'. Then the hero and heroine clash and then fall in love. Then hero's good associates come in to the picture, his bubbly, cute - but not as cute as the heroine- younger sister. Hero's friend, a good-looking - but not as good looking as the hero - bubbly lad who secretly romances the hero's sister and also provides the comic relief. After about 45 mins to one hour of this, the story begins. No, no, wait. the next part of the story begins.


This usually involves a heart-wrenching event by hero which the heroine witnesses and demands to know the background. The hero opens his heart about a flashback. Then we sit up, thinking well, here's the actual story. Here the hero has a sister and a brother-in-law who was murdered by a gang of robbers during their heist in the bank where the brother-in-law works. That day, the hero swore to avenge the murder.


Then in a twist of fate, he gets entangled in another controversy where, in an attempt to track down the baddies, and he is arrested. He makes a very passionate speech in the court about how a decent young man gets 'corrupted' by society. Well, the judge is not convinced and he is lodged in prison. There's a prison break and he escapes and suddenly he lands in harbour where he rescues his friend from the thugs and then his girlfriend is locked up to be forcibly married off to a rogue by her father and she is now rescued by the hero, who, in a twist of tale, doesn't accept her love because now he has been turned bad and wants nothing but to become rich like every bad guy who has become rich. He gives a lengthy speech about society which nurtures only dishonest people.


If these preceding paragraphs haven't made you grit your teeth and if you haven't already closed this window, Eesan is the film for you. It packs four plots which jump at you with the knack of horror film timing and the crassness of 80s Bollywood. Watching the film is not not just disappointing from the entertainment perspective but is disheartening because of the extent of faith invested in Sasikumar's first venture. Subramaniyapuram is a modern classic. It defied all the rules of the then prevailing trend. It introduced a new genre and reinvented Madurai and redefined period tales. Only Bharatiraaja and Shankar had debut as dashing as that. Unfortunately Sasikumar cannot repair the damage he has already wrought to his image. At some point in the future, he may have to explain why, after pulling off an Ashutosh Gowarikar, he ended up attempting a Subash Ghai.

Wednesday 28 December 2011

Engeyum Eppothum


Engeyum Eppothum is a special film. It works in three levels, which is why it is special in a land where films often don't work even in one level. 

Firstly, it works as a vehicle for a powerful and urgent message. It is indeed simple: road safety and the follies of reckless driving. And, surprise, this is conveyed without any melodrama or propaganda. It is straight, in your face and running throughout the film. It is placed caringly as a silent, brooding undercurrent lest it end up as a documentary from department of transport.In the end, when it culminates, the message is hard hitting and moving. No pun intended.


Secondly, the film works as a social satire. Saravanan, the director, finds satirical and sardonic humour in events as common as visiting coffee shops or travelling in share autos. Here, he pits unlikely characters against these events to evoke the intended humour. The lower middle class girl's need to visit an upmarket coffee shop, the innonce of a rustic boy working in a town and his brush with upmarket living. In a developed world, the rich don't need to interact with the middle class because the gap is so wide and neither could or would want to bridge. In India, although the bridge is slowly widening, the line is still thin and still there are cross-overs and such encounters are tragic if not hilarious. Artists and filmmakers have often attempted to identify this encounters, of poor witnessing the rich life or social rural aping the upmarket town. Often these encounters ended up as scornful or scathing leftist attack. In EE, Saravanan doesn't take a moral stand. In fact we don't even know his stand. He stops short of placing his characters in such unlikely events and watching them perform. It's like the director has as much fun watching them fumble as we do. 

Thirdly, despite the grim nature of the message, the film is hugely entertaining. It's so much fun that it is possible to ignore the message. Saravanan, being acutely aware of this, ensures that the message is not lost in all that rollicking we witness. Shakespeare would call this comedy whereas the DVD rental libraries would stack this film in the comedy section. 


A friend who watched the film with me asked, 'Why should we care only for the characters and not for others in the film?' The question relates to the accident in the film where the lead characters were part of the other passengers, some we're introduced to but most remain unknown. The question is a valid one: why do we wish that the lead characters remain safe but don't care for others who die in the accident? Isn't it cruel to watch with impunity the death of several passengers whilst caring eagerly for the well-being of only four (or five) people? What kind of message is it if the filmmaker makes us insensitive to the sufferings of unknown passengers and tries to convey the urgent message of road safety and reckless driving? Actually he doesn't. The message is as much about the individual suffering as it is about the collective damage it wrecks. The accident scene is one of the most spectacularly shot action sequences in the recent times. It is not shot for the mere spectacle because you aren't looking at the effects, which are awesome by the way, but you're actually glued to the details. The word 'accident' is brought completely alive, with flesh and blood. Yes, literally flesh and blood and smoke and fumes and dust and shock and awe and death. You feel the bending rusted steel beams and engulfing dust. You witness an accident from inside the bus and you know what it does to people. How ruthless it is, how it not just kills or injures but breaks hearts, snatches away people's dreams, breaks apart lovers, destroys hopes, irrevocably decimates life. All because someone was honking madly, someone forgot to check breaks, someone was drunk, someone didn't watch the speedometer. Or someone simply didn't care.


Talking about caring, although we do care for all the passengers, we care more for the main ones. And it is key to the ending. 


Saturday 17 December 2011

The Song and its Singer















'Kolaveri' is an incredibly joyous song. It oozes a sort of reckless energy that has now come to represent the Indian youth of the noughties. It may not be the original idea. The cheeky practice of singing Tamil songs in English is a favourite pass time of Chennaites for a long time. We used sing like this:

Whattu Muni amma your eyes full of mascara,
who kept the mascara it's me kept the mascara
you go in the frontu and come in the backu.
...
Taking bath in kuttralamu heat-u won't subsidu x 2
Husbandu body heatu kannamma
you come here-u jilujilukking ponnamma

And here's another sample:

Come... Come... Springu...
Fragrance giving smellu,
Street full of festival
Lights throwing festival
Come with me singing the joooysu...

And so on. Now try and guess the second song if you can!*

What Dhanush has done is to capitalise this Chennai underground and made it mainstream. In this way, it's something like what Nirvana did. Grunge was looked down upon until Nirvana came and made this genre mainstream! The first ever review of a band of this genre read, 'Pure grunge! Pure noise! Pure s**t!' The word 'grunge' actually means grime and dirt. Today, listening to Nirvana is considered as a mark of refined music taste! As for 'kolaveri', the lyrics may not fit Javed Akhtar's Lucknowi sensibilities but they have the quality of pure garage jamming. Many Grateful Dead's greatest songs are nothing but free form jamming and psychedelic live sessions which are actually more popular than their orchestrated studio albums. Some of these live sessions don't have any clear lyrics, leave alone meaningful ones. At least 'Kolaveri' has a cohesive theme and words. Well, I believe Dhanush wasn't on heroine like the Dead were but that's another matter!

On its own merit, 'kolaveri' has captured the imagination of the entire nation and it would not have happened if it didn't have any deeper resonance. Name any one song that you can call utterly dull and 'non-creative' that has become such a rage!

Dhanush has proven his creative musical abilities not just with 'Kolaveri' but with the two songs from 'Mayakkam Enna' as well. Written and sung by him agian, 'Oda Oda' and 'Kadhal En Kadhal' clearly declare a 'Dhanush sound' which is unique and original. His songs, like his dances, are delivered with reckless creative abandon. If he had been born in Seattle and if he was on crack, he would have been called Kurt Cobain!

Now, onto his acting abilities: he is one of the finest actors to emerge from this generation. His lack of 'mass-hero' image has actually helped him to some extent but then that's not the only saving factor. From Thulluvatho Ilamai days he has consistently demonstrated his energetic and absorbed performances. He made us sympathise with him in Thulluvatho Ilamai, terrified us in Kadhal Kondein and made us laugh out loud in Thiruda Thirudi. After some deviation, where he burnt his fingers trying to be 'Vijay', he returned to his forte with Pollathavan. Watch the scene where he meets the villain in the hospital after his father is attacked – pause the scene and stare at his eyes. That's one of the most powerful performances in the recent times.

Aadukalam is an honest, albeit misplaced, adventure for Vetrimaaran but Dhanush lapped up the opportunity completely to immerse into the skin of the character. From the Madurai accent to his obeisance to Pettaikkaran to his rustic anger vent on his mother and girlfriend, Dhanush demonstrated something we have not seen for a long time in Tamil cinema. Not Vikram's one-dimensional show in Pithamagan, not Priyanka Chopra's maudlin act in Fashion, but if anyone truly deserves the national award in the recent years, it is him. He does not flaunt six-pack like Suriya, does not bash up baddies like Vijay. Finally, he does not have a sophisticated look that would please the Gautam Menon fans. And thank god for that.



*The second song is 'Vaa Vaa Vasanthame' from Puthukkavithai. Thanks to Barnabas Chandran for the Tanglish songs.

Wednesday 14 December 2011

Velayudham

Cast: Vijay, Genelia D'Souza, Hansika Motvani, Santhanam; Music: Vijay Antony; Direction: M Raja


I have no issues with the so-called 'commercial mass-entertainers'. I enjoyed Baasha, Saamy, with some reservations, Singam, and of course Sivaji. I could never fully enjoy any Vijay's films and they have only partly to do with the actor. That said, my special criticism on Velayudham completely absolves Vijay of any responsibilities and places the blame squarely on Raja, the director.

Velayudham is a violent film. In the Hollywood, they would have given it an 'R' rating. In the video stores, it would have been stacked alongside Saw, Hostel and Evil Dead. It is violent not just on physical but psychological level too. You see a man being sliced into two vertically, a sword being sent through one's head through his mouth, a man being tortured by being suspended on a hook and a knife being chucked onto his thighs, supposedly to make him spill some information. The last time I saw a similar scene was in Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

On a psychological level, here's a sample. In the film, women are abducted and forcibly entered into prostitution. A blind girl is 'mistakenly' taken into this cartel. Since she won't be of any use in the business, the head of this cartel, an ugly rogue, decides to keep and use her. Of course there's our hero, the saviour, who intervenes and beats him to pulp. A similar scene occurs in Bala's Naan Kadavul. However, Bala treated it with enormous sensitivity, and despite the scene being far more violent you cared for the situation. Well, you can't watch the scene satisfactorily. You cringe and you even get angry at Bala. In Velayudham, the scene is presented with the voyeuristic glee, not to mention the utmost sensitivity. The despicability of the situation is not conveyed but there's a almost a sadistic pleasure derived from the scene. Even when the saviour, the hero, appears on the scene, he doesn't jump onto the tormentor instantly. He stands atop the loft beam and poses for a while, as if waiting for the bad guy to get into an appropriate 'position'. The word 'Disgusting' is not appropriate for a film critic to use but there's no other suitable word.

Why is it that Bala can get away with that kind of violence but Raja can't. Simple answer: Parents don't take their children to cinema to watch Bala films. Only adults watch his films and even those who do know very well what they can expect. I know people who, despite their respect for Bala, decided not to watch it because it was 'too gory'. You don't have such pre-warning for Velayudham because it's supposed to be a 'mass family entertainer' and when scenes like this come up, you don't know how to process it. I don't know what was Velayudham's certification but if it was 'U', then we need an urgent and serious overhauling of our censor board. And don't even get me started on the sexual innuendos.

Aside from this, there is very little to write about the film or plenty to write about - depending on which angle you approach. The screenplay conveniently makes sure that the 'hero' is there in every important situation. This is called being in the right place at the right time. Not just during the initial scenes where 'convenient' co-incidents enable him to discover and remove the bombs planted by the terrorists but even in the later part of the movie where he consciously becomes the 'saviour'. He is there where the director wants him to be and he is seen by the characters who need to see him. This is not just lazy filmmaking but a slothful filmmaking.

And, finally, well, this has been my problem with almost every commercial entertainer in Tamil. All problems that the hero faces are solved simply by fighting. In the more intelligent part of the world, superheroes solve their problems by ingenious quick-thinking, in addition to muscle power. Any difficult situation - any number of bad guys whatever may be their abilities - disappears as soon as Velayudham is there. We don't need to worry any further because he is there. Even in the end when he is humbled by the wicked villain, we 'know' that he will survive and come back to beat up all of them as he did before. As if that amount of violence wasn't sufficient, Velayudham even ends up giving a lengthy speech in the end chiding the public and admonishing the system. That, in my view, was the biggest assault on our senses from Raja.

The morning after watching the film, when we told one of our relatives that we stayed awake till early hours to finish watching Velayudham, he was incredulous. 'Why?' he asked. 'It was a sadomasochistic exercise,' I said.

Wednesday 2 November 2011

Ezham Arivu



Cast: Surya, Shruti Hassan, Johnny Tri Nguyen Music: Harris Jeyaraj, Direction: A R Murugadoss

Here’s the quiz question: what is the most popular and influential Tamil film? At least in the last two decades? From which several derivatives were born, multiple inspirations were wrought, numerous variations spawn, the movie that still continues to impress and inspire hoards of new, upcoming and ambitious Tamil filmmakers. One clue: It’s an English film.

The character Dong Lee (Johhny Tri Nguyen)’s body language, character arc and development are unmistakably that of T-1000 liquid metal robot of The Terminator. Of course it has helped Murugadoss that even the motivation for this character is quite similar: sent on a mission to kill a girl who was bent on a scientific research that threatened to derail the bad guys’ operation. Instead of John Connor, the potential victim here is a twentysomething Tamil girl of genetic engineering background. The mention of ‘Tamil’ is important to the story, and also the performance of the actress.

Ezham Arivu has a clever premise from Murugadoss and an impressive effort by Suria. It starts off with a self-assured foundation, but never quite manages to elevate itself from the initial promise. Mind you, this criticism is not about the commercial compulsions faced by all the Indian directors. It’s not the enforced song set-pieces, not the romance angle necessitated by the lead characters or the mandatory comic side-kick and the love-failure song. Well, all these are there in Ezham Arivu and all these are jarring enough to upset your DNA structure. Still those are not the ones we would be apt to complain about because Murugadoss never makes any pretence of these aspects and, except not properly integrating these elements into the script, he hasn’t done any injustice. For that matter no director in the living memory has managed to integrate them as skilfully as Shankar did, so it would be futile to even make a mention of these issues.

There are two problems that actually present this dilemma. First is with resolution of the plot-tangles established in the first half. Within ten minutes into the second half, the viewer was able to resolve all of them themselves thereby making the entire second-half redundant. The facade of sci-fi elements notwithstanding, the movie’s final resolution is actually achieved by hand to hand combat and not with any scientific quick thinking. (Compare this with Endhiran where the final resolution, with all those noisy spectacles aside, was actually a clever geeky gesture by the scientist. Compare this even with Mangatha where the final revelation was pleasantly shocking.) It would be difficult to discuss the gaping holes of the story without revealing the spoilers, although many of them would be easily deductible to a seasoned and discerning viewer. It appeared like they needed more meetings during the screenplay stage. The classic mistake made by all our filmmakers. They think that a clever idea and a saleable star is enough to prop the entire movie.

The second is the propaganda element in the film. It is understandable that there’s a tinge of Tamil pride in the legend of Bodhi Dharma. But where is the Tamil victimhood in the story? Is the villain aiming to kill the scientist girl because she is a Tamil? Would he have spared her if she was a Telugu or a Bengali? And why link it with the Sri Lankan conflict? And why there’s such a lengthy lecture in the end? Aren’t Tamils prouder than any of our neighbours? Can any other race in India compete with our vanity? And for all that drivel on linguistic pride, why is Shruti Hassan talking in such an accented Tamil?