In the safe hands of God

Daivathinte Swantham Cleetus (Malayalam)

Director: Marthandan

Cast: Mammootty, Siddique, P. Balachandran, Honey Rose

Playing character after character cloaked in yards of goodness did not help a career graph that seemed to be spiralling downwards. So taking a chance and playing a baddie who eventually gets reformed, with a little help from God, seems wise.

And with the festive season on in God’s own country, director Marthandan’s Daivathinte Swantham Cleetus could provide that first tiny swing upward for actor Mammootty’s career graph.

Cleetus (Mammootty) is a small time goon who is roped in to play Jesus Christ in a Biblical light-and-sound show by a priest (Siddique). His serene look and quiet demeanour convince the priest and members of the troupe that he is the perfect person for the role. Only till Cleetus’ antecedents and unscrupulous character is revealed.

Set against the backdrop of theatre, the script by Benny P. Nayarambalam provides enough scope for some good laughs, though you’d end up wishing this were a complete laugh riot. The scriptwriter has also neatly cobbled up Biblical references with the storyline and there aren’t too many untidy patches showing.

Marthandan, who has been an associate director in the industry for more than a decade, makes a safe debut.Mammootty’s portrayal of Cleetus is refreshing and fun in turns. Siddique, Suraj Venjaramood, P. Balachandran, Aju Varghese, Honey Rose and Sanam Shetty do justice to their roles, but in the end, are only meant to be satellites revolving around the superstar.

Tracing Cleetus’ transformation from evil to good, the film is a watchable fare. Does it mean resurrection for the superstar? Only, almost.

The review was first published in The Hindu.

High expectations belied

Film: Kunjananthante Kada (Malayalam)

Director: Salim Ahamed

Cast: Mammootty, Nyla Usha, Balachandra Menon, Siddique

A debut film that swept the National and State Film Awards. Screenings across the globe at prominent film festivals.

India’s Oscar entry in 2011. Rave reviews and much critical acclaim.

That’s a whole lot of baggage to handle. It is difficult to sweep those expectations under the carpet and view a director’s second film without drawing parallels to a brilliant first. It has almost been two years since Salim Ahamed’s Abu effortlessly walked into our hearts.

When Kunjananthan opened shop this weekend, the comparisons were inevitable.

In the imposing shadow of a frail Abu, Kunjananthan appears dwarf-like. But, nevertheless, the makers of Kunjananthante Kada deserve an objective review.

The idea of the neighbourhood provision store which becomes a point of reference in conversations, a meeting place, and even a landmark over time strikes an immediate chord with the viewer. So does the image of the shopkeeper behind jars of mouth-watering goodies.

His deep bond with the shop he inherits, carrying memories of filial affection and his refusal to part with it would have gone on to be a great story. One that would have cemented Salim Ahamed’s place in Malayalam cinema. But, only if he had remembered that the script is at the soul of a film.

Kunjananthan (Mammootty) manages a provision store in a small village in Kannur. Resigned to an unhappy marriage, it is this shop that is at the centre of his existence.

The owner of the building pleads with him to vacate the shop so he may settle his debts, but Kunjananthan does not relent.

Eviction, however, seems unavoidable when the government tries to acquire land for a road development project. Kunjanthan’s travails to retain the shop form the second-half of the film.

The film has everything else going for it.

A good story that offers a delightful peek into small town life, one that has been pushed to the fringes by filmmakers today.

The throbbing life in villages and the distinctive Kannur slang are refreshing. So are performances by a stellar cast – Mammootty as the eponymous hero, debutant Nyla Usha as his wife, Balachandra Menon as a self-taught lawyer and Siddique as the building’s owner.

Excellent background score by Issac Thomas Kottukappilly, music by M. Jayachandran and sound editing by Resul Pookkutty.

Stunning visuals by veteran cinematographer Madhu Ambat. Some good observations on development and growth, and comments on a Facebook-crazy, smartphone-addicted population. The ingredients are all just right, but without the chef’s master touch, the film ends up being a half-baked cake.

There are no easy answers to the development-displacement debate, and the filmmaker loses direction once he has swerved to take that giddy route.

With a storyline that fizzles out in the second half, the film leaves you unmoved.

Forget Adaminte Makan Abu, its many laurels, the director who held out a lot of promise and watch this one without strings attached. And you may be a little less disappointed.

The review was first published in The Hindu on September 1, 2013.

Lost labour of womanhood

Film: Kalimannu 

Director: Blessy

Cast: Shwetha Menon, Biju Menon, Suhasini

This is director Blessy’s la-la land! Here, the whole concept of womanhood centres on the woman’s right to deliver a baby. Motherhood is nothing more than 10 months of pregnancy and associated labour pangs.

The characters who people it are thoroughly convinced that thrusting visuals of delivery before the society is a sure way to deter people from committing crimes against women. And the woman who daringly delivers her baby through a live telecast is the ultimate champion of women’s rights.

Now, cut to reality! The film Kalimannu is, at best, a myopic take on women’s issues and at worst, crass commercialisation of one of life’s most beautiful experiences. That said, there is nothing objectionable about the delivery scenes that have created much uproar. It is everything else in the film that should anger you. That so much controversy was raked up for a scene lasting just about a minute is shameful, but that is topic for another article, another discussion.

Meera (Shwetha Menon) is an ‘item’ dancer in Bollywood, a convenient excuse for three item dances in the first-half. As her first film as heroine is set for release, her husband Shyam (Biju Menon) meets with an accident and is declared brain dead.

Meera wants to have his child through artificial insemination and thus begins her crusade against the big bad world of legal complications and prying media persons.

But the travails of the audience begin much before, at the beginning of the film, when they are presented a half-baked story (scripted by the director himself) with high airs.

The irony of characters mouthing concerns about women being viewed as commodities even as the lens zooms in on oodles of cleavage and much hip-shaking cannot be missed. All we see of the item dancer’s much-awaited ‘real’ woman role in a film is also some more hip-shaking.

For all the loud talk on the sanctity of motherhood, there is the parallel explicit advertisement of a fertility clinic and a stem cell bank.

It is also shocking that an ace director would forget that a subtext (Subhadra-Abhimanyu relationship) is often implied, and not emphasised through dialogues. What the film fails to achieve through visuals and performances, it seeks to make up through dialogue, and ends up being just a tortuous sermon.

With all that marketing on the film being the bond between the unborn child and the mother, one wonders what prevented the director from going ahead and portraying just that. In a film touted as a “tribute to motherhood”, pretensions and artifices seem not just out of place, but sacrilegious.

The only highlights of the movie are the songs ‘Laalee’ and ‘Shalabhamayi’ penned by O.N.V. Kurup and composed by M. Jayachandran. Shwetha Menon as the protagonist Meera, delivers a beautiful baby, but sadly, not a convincing performance. The characters of Biju Menon and Suhasini are largely left unexplored.

Nevertheless, Blessy has definitely succeeded on one count — in silencing the film’s critics. All those moralists who raised hell before the release must be now busy burying their heads in shame for aiding the film’s undeserved media attention. The director also uses the controversies the film generated as material to pad up the second half.

With a subject that was stretched beyond its one-hour worth of content, it is the audience who writhe in pain over Blessy’s ‘labour’ of love. Kalimannu is that point of realisation for the Malayali audience that the director of some of the most poetic films in recent times (Kazcha, Thanmathra, Brahmaram, andPranayam) has, but, feet of clay.

The review was first published in The Hindu on August 25, 2013