Kahin To Hogi Woh... from 'Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na', a love ballad sung by newcomer Rashid Ali (where on earth does ARR find all these awesome new singers?), and Vasundhara Das who finally breaks out of the item number rut she's been stuck in for a while. My gut tells me this is destined to be the new-age Pehla Nasha... if its picturized well.
Kabhi Kabhi Aditi Zindagi... from 'Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na' has super-hit written all over it; most ARR numbers require a lot of listening to before you get to like it. Kabhi Kabhi Aditi Zindagi..., like the other insta-ditty from ARR Enrendrum Punnagai... from 'Alaipayuthey', is mind-bogglingly addictive. ARR ought to let down his hair and indulge in these hip numbers more often; he's been stuck in the 'Swades' and 'Jodhaa Akbar' mode for a while now (not that I don't enjoy those either, 'Yeh Jo Des Hai Tera' and 'Khwaja Mere Khwaja' are amongst my favorite ARR songs). Rashid Ali does a repeat here, and he's got a lot to thank ARR for.
Meherbaan from 'Ada' makes it ARR thrice in a row. ARR singing is increasingly becoming more and more common unlike say, 5 years ago, and it is quite possible that I might get tired of listening to him croon song after song. Right now, however, his high-pitched, slightly nasal voice is undiluted music to my ears, so much that I even listen to the likes of the 'Jaagenge...' from 'Bose: The Forgotten Hero' (and that turned out to be quite an inspired choice of the name, I have to say!). Btw, this is such an awesome album, and so is 'Tehzeeb', never mind their status at the B.O.
Mast Kalandar from 'Hey Baby' is a wild song, totally. The nasal, slightly whiny voice of the main singer takes nothing away from the sheer energy of this number. Even the fact that the picturization of the song was no great shakes (despite the presence of Akshay and SRK) couldn't prevent this one from busting the charts.
Engu Ninnu Vanna from 'Calcutta News' is a very nice song, albeit a little old-fashioned. Madhu Balakrishnan has made a career for himself on the nostalgia factor of Keralites, and he does the same here (and this is not taking away from his considerable singing abilities at all). Veteran Chitra easily dominates the song though. The video sucks big time, with Dileep trying hard to pass off as an intellectual, but only succeeding in trying to look like a bad hair gel commercial.
Hawa Sun Hawa from 'Ada' is the typical Rahman song that takes ages to get used to, but once you do the tune refuses to get out of your head. Its easily one of the better duets Sonu and Alka have sung together. Somehow, the tune reminds me of the neglected Khamoshiyaan ditty from 'One Two ka Four', but hey that could just be me.
Hare Raam Hare Raam from 'Bhool Bulaiyya' is probably the most infectious track in the past few years. Even my horror at what old Priyan had done to poor, old-fashioned Manichitrathazhu couldn't stop me from nodding my head to the rollicking beat of this one. Akshay, for all his faults as an actor, is extremely good at most song picturizations, and he doesn't put a foot wrong here.
Showing posts with label Priyadarsan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Priyadarsan. Show all posts
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Manichithrathazhu: The Unmaking of a Classic
I just had to watch 'Bhool Bhulaiyya', Priyadarshan's psychological take on the neo-classic 'Manichithrathazhu', even if only to criticize. In many ways, it is much more ghastly than 'Chandramukhi', for this movie at least had the excuse that it had to be tailored to suit the Rajni persona (and in the bargain, throw any semblance of logic out of the window. Can't imagine why this line of thought seems to have stuck with all Rajni directors. Wasn't Dalapathy good and entertaining cinema?). With 'Bhool Bhulaiyya', Priyan has no such excuses, since he fails to retain even a glimmer of the spirit of the original despite investing in scene-by-scene remake. This, despite him being part of the original's crew.
In both remakes - and at this stage, it seems prudent to remove Chandramukhi from the comparisons for the same 'excuse' mentioned above - subtlety seems to be a big no-no. Nuances from the original - which is one of the most important reasons why it is regarded as a classic by the current generation - are discarded with disdain. Instead, we have uniformly bad acting - even from the normally dependable Paresh Rawal and Rajpal Yadav, who really ought to take a break from the buffoonery they have been up to in their recent outings.
Consider this: in 'Manichithrathazhu', there is a strong hint that Nakul (Suresh Gopi) is a neglectful husband - sample the scene where Ganga asks Nakul to bed, and he excuses himself citing the excuse that he has work to attend to. In fact, the lovely Varuvanillarumee Vijanamam Ee Vazhiyil number strongly indicates that Nakul might even be impotent ( a fact that is only indicated at in the various remakes by Prabhu's nuanced performance). Thus there is a strong foundation laid for the possibility that Ganga is neglected, bored out of her wits, and thus particularly vulnerable and empathetic to the legend of Nagavalli. Instead, here we have Shiney Ahuja all the time grinning like an idiot, and happily nuzzling a rather plump Vidya Balan during an incoveniently placed duet.
And then, there are scenes where Amisha simpers (in that excruciatingly teeth-grating way that only she can) about the rat poison left oh-so conveniently in the kitchen - much like in the Tamil version, where we have 10 laborers literally groaning and moaning to carry the bed across the corridor. I am not sure why the directors feel that Tamil and/or Hindi audiences need such dumbing-down - after all, these are the same audiences that made superhits of a 'Thevar Magan', a 'Lagaan' and a 'TZP'. Labels like 'hey, there's poison in the kitchen' and 'this bed, that the possessed heroine will later lift, is so darned heavy' are juvenile and overkill - perhaps expected of P.Vasu, who wouldn't recognize good cinema if it bit him on his plagiarizing ass, but certainly not of Priyan who has made a lot of good films in the past.
Obviously, neither Jyothika nor Vidya are a match for Shobhana, who delivers a career-defining, knockout performance in the original. Jyothika overacts, to much merriment, and resorts to inane grins, light on the eyes etc to at least frighten the kids. Vidya Balan tries hard, though she's obviously watched DVDs of 'Manichithrathazhu' one too many times (never more obvious than in the scene where you can tell she's just yearning to pick up that bed)! Shobhana's expressions in the crucial scenes are phenomenal - attributable to bad/strange acting on first watch even if you notice the change of expression, but bang-on upon subsequent viewing. The most famous scenes, of course, are the ones with the psychiatrist displaying the jewelery with a manic fervor, the one at the temple where the psychiatrist deliberately tries to aggravate her, and then the by-now-classic scene with the lifting of the bed. Shobhana, despite not doing much of consequence after Manichitrathazhu, is a treeat to watch in what must rank as one of the greatest performances in the history of Indian cinema.
The psychiatrist is the main commercial ingredient of the movie - he provides comic relief, and acts as the main catalyst. At the risk of sounding biased, I just cannot imagine anyone other than Mohanlal in this role. His antics, like the one where he shakes his leg incredulously to check the sound of the anklet is coming from his leg, or the where he gazes lecherously at the portrait of the dancer, have by now been mimicked successfully by both Rajni and Akshay; however, most of these gestures were improvised by Mohanlal on the sets (does somebody have the link to the interview where Fazil said this?). While Rajni's role is ... well, more or less a typical Rajni role, Akshya Kumar copies Mohanlal's expresssions, body language and posture completely. He does a pretty decent job, but the magic is clearly not there.
The music of Manichitrathazhu was very important too, since the the alternate persona was a dancer-singer clearly well-versed with music; she sang and danced at night, after all. The Pazhamthamizh pattu number (conveniently ditched in the remakes, as the timing of the song placement was slightly awry) was not just a song randomly inserted into a scene; it was clearly the the doctor trying to soothe the alternate persona by singing a song in the same raaga as that of the one that the dancer dances to at night (the doctor hears this earlier, and hence he knows the song, so that loophole is closed as well).
I can keep going on and on; the original was a movie where all loopholes were plugged, and had several nuances/hints placed, only to tie them all up toward the end. Only several watches of the movie help you understand all of this. With the remakes,its difficult to sit through the movie even once - wild dogs couldn't drag me to a second screening.
In both remakes - and at this stage, it seems prudent to remove Chandramukhi from the comparisons for the same 'excuse' mentioned above - subtlety seems to be a big no-no. Nuances from the original - which is one of the most important reasons why it is regarded as a classic by the current generation - are discarded with disdain. Instead, we have uniformly bad acting - even from the normally dependable Paresh Rawal and Rajpal Yadav, who really ought to take a break from the buffoonery they have been up to in their recent outings.
Consider this: in 'Manichithrathazhu', there is a strong hint that Nakul (Suresh Gopi) is a neglectful husband - sample the scene where Ganga asks Nakul to bed, and he excuses himself citing the excuse that he has work to attend to. In fact, the lovely Varuvanillarumee Vijanamam Ee Vazhiyil number strongly indicates that Nakul might even be impotent ( a fact that is only indicated at in the various remakes by Prabhu's nuanced performance). Thus there is a strong foundation laid for the possibility that Ganga is neglected, bored out of her wits, and thus particularly vulnerable and empathetic to the legend of Nagavalli. Instead, here we have Shiney Ahuja all the time grinning like an idiot, and happily nuzzling a rather plump Vidya Balan during an incoveniently placed duet.
And then, there are scenes where Amisha simpers (in that excruciatingly teeth-grating way that only she can) about the rat poison left oh-so conveniently in the kitchen - much like in the Tamil version, where we have 10 laborers literally groaning and moaning to carry the bed across the corridor. I am not sure why the directors feel that Tamil and/or Hindi audiences need such dumbing-down - after all, these are the same audiences that made superhits of a 'Thevar Magan', a 'Lagaan' and a 'TZP'. Labels like 'hey, there's poison in the kitchen' and 'this bed, that the possessed heroine will later lift, is so darned heavy' are juvenile and overkill - perhaps expected of P.Vasu, who wouldn't recognize good cinema if it bit him on his plagiarizing ass, but certainly not of Priyan who has made a lot of good films in the past.
Obviously, neither Jyothika nor Vidya are a match for Shobhana, who delivers a career-defining, knockout performance in the original. Jyothika overacts, to much merriment, and resorts to inane grins, light on the eyes etc to at least frighten the kids. Vidya Balan tries hard, though she's obviously watched DVDs of 'Manichithrathazhu' one too many times (never more obvious than in the scene where you can tell she's just yearning to pick up that bed)! Shobhana's expressions in the crucial scenes are phenomenal - attributable to bad/strange acting on first watch even if you notice the change of expression, but bang-on upon subsequent viewing. The most famous scenes, of course, are the ones with the psychiatrist displaying the jewelery with a manic fervor, the one at the temple where the psychiatrist deliberately tries to aggravate her, and then the by-now-classic scene with the lifting of the bed. Shobhana, despite not doing much of consequence after Manichitrathazhu, is a treeat to watch in what must rank as one of the greatest performances in the history of Indian cinema.
The psychiatrist is the main commercial ingredient of the movie - he provides comic relief, and acts as the main catalyst. At the risk of sounding biased, I just cannot imagine anyone other than Mohanlal in this role. His antics, like the one where he shakes his leg incredulously to check the sound of the anklet is coming from his leg, or the where he gazes lecherously at the portrait of the dancer, have by now been mimicked successfully by both Rajni and Akshay; however, most of these gestures were improvised by Mohanlal on the sets (does somebody have the link to the interview where Fazil said this?). While Rajni's role is ... well, more or less a typical Rajni role, Akshya Kumar copies Mohanlal's expresssions, body language and posture completely. He does a pretty decent job, but the magic is clearly not there.
The music of Manichitrathazhu was very important too, since the the alternate persona was a dancer-singer clearly well-versed with music; she sang and danced at night, after all. The Pazhamthamizh pattu number (conveniently ditched in the remakes, as the timing of the song placement was slightly awry) was not just a song randomly inserted into a scene; it was clearly the the doctor trying to soothe the alternate persona by singing a song in the same raaga as that of the one that the dancer dances to at night (the doctor hears this earlier, and hence he knows the song, so that loophole is closed as well).
I can keep going on and on; the original was a movie where all loopholes were plugged, and had several nuances/hints placed, only to tie them all up toward the end. Only several watches of the movie help you understand all of this. With the remakes,its difficult to sit through the movie even once - wild dogs couldn't drag me to a second screening.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Sreenivasan: An Underrated Genius, But Past His Prime?
Recently, I made the mistake of watching a Mallu version of 'Analyze That', 'Bhargava Charitham 4-am Ghandam' starring Sreenivasan and Mammootty. To say that the move was terrible would be an understatement. Although the dialogues did bear a passing resemblance to the Sreenivasan of yore, most often they were not even remotely funny. One fears that in his zeal to show off his newfound comic skills, Mammooty is descending into alarming levels of mediocrity. Though he does try to top it off with a handful of sensible movies every year, doing such roles affects not only his image, but also his stature as an actor. As for Sreenivasan, he's become too old to carry off his unique brand of comedy any longer. And - why doesn't anyone get this - we DO NOT want to see 50-year old men dressed up in shorts, sleeveless shirts, and designer outfits - and this is not directed just at Mammootty either. Stuff the opulence, and give us a decent story, for chrissake!
Its really a pity that intelligent, 'thinking' cine-people like Sreenivasan fail to keep up with time, and come out with such nonsense. His screenplays were responsible for some of the landmark films of the 1980s, the golden period of Malayalam cinema. Indeed, looking back, Sreenivasan was pretty much to Malayalm cinema, what Hrishikesh Mukherjee was to Bollywood. Looking forward to better cinema from this underrated genius, here's a list of the movies why I regard him as one of the best talents of Malayalam cinema.
Varavelpu (Welcome): Notwithstanding other popular movies from the Sathyan Anthikkad - Mohanlal - Sreenivasan trio, this is most probably their best collaboration IMO. The script by Sreenivasan traces the journey of a Gulf-returned Mohanlal who tries hard to eke out a living in a Communist-infested Kerala by running a private bus. Laced with subtle humor, great all-round performances, and a tight screenplay that never veers too far from reality, this was a gem of a movie. Sadly, it is shortly to be remade in Hindi (read destroyed) by a Priyadarsan crony, with Govinda in the lead.
Vadakku Nokki Yanthram marked the directorial debut of Sreenivasan. Although the movie was interspersed with his characteristic self-effacing wit and deadpan dialogs, the tale of an average-looking guy with an inferiority complex getting married to a beautiful girl was Malayalam cinema's first intentional black comedy, and hit a chord with audiences everywhere. Sreenivasan, through his penchant for self-directed sarcasm and ridiculous situations, depicted the misgivings of an average man beautifully here. Main, Meri Pathni Aur Woh was directly inspired from this movie, and it boasted of a terrific performance by another supremely talented actor, Rajpal Yadav.
Nadodikattu (The Wandering Wind): When one talks of the Mohanlal-Sreenivasan combination, this would in all probability be the first movie that one remembers. The characters of this hilarious rags-to-riches tale - be it the innocent Dasan-Vijayan duo, the paranoid villain Ananthan Nambiar, Gafoorkka who runs a 'yatch' to the 'Gulf', or the hired killer Pavanayi - are still fresh in our minds, despite the movie being almost 3 decades old. This has Sreenivasan at his vintage best - the acerbic wit, the social commentary, and the dig at the typical Malayalee egotism are all there.
Sandesham (Message) was political satire at its best. Apart from the recent Vadivelu-starrer 'Imsai Arasan...' and the Kundan Shah classic 'Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron', I cannot recall a single political satire in our cinema (forgive me if I am not conversant with regional language cinema apart from Malayalam and Tamil). On the pretext of displaying oneupmanship between two brothers (who belong to rival political parties), Sreenivasan launches a scathing indictment on both the political parties of Kerala. Its a tremendously funny film, but nonetheless accurate and socially relevant too.
Chinthavishtayaya Shyamala (Thoughtful Shyamala) was Sreenivasan's second attempt at direction. Audience expectations were high after his acclaimed previous outing, and he didn't let them down either. The opening scene of the movie, where in a scathing indictment of Kerala's electricity board, the dialogue likens electricity to a stray cat, set the mood of the movie. It would perhaps be irreverent to suggest that the irresponsible husband is a manifestation of Lord Rama's inability/refusal to fulfil his responsibilities toward his wife, but the title of the movie certainly seems to slyly suggest so. The movie's harsh indictment of ashram-life at the expense of familiar responsibilities was another hint in this direction, IMO. Once again, the movie was a tremendous success at the BO, and critically acclaimed as well.
Thalayanamanthram (Feminine Wile) saw Sreenivasan take on the universal topic of envy and feminine wile. Urvashi puts in one of her best performances as the middle-class wife. It was to her credit that a character who could have easily come off as a shrew, was instead portrayed as a normal woman with her share of aspirations and failings. Urvashi displayed razor-edge control in not letting her character slip into farce. Unfortunately, it is this control that Urvashi seems to have lost, as can be seen in her recent outings like Achuvinte Amma, and more noticeably in Madhuchandralekha.
Vellanakalude Naadu (The Land of White Elephants) was directed by Priyadarsan at a time when he was still a competent director. Devoid of frills (save the hilarious crowd-pleasing bulldozer sequence), the movie narrates the plight of a road contractor (superbly enacted by Mohanlal) in Kerala. For a change, Sreenivasan plays a serious role - that of the diligent social worker whose family has been killed due to a bridge collapsing - and excels in it too. The Priyan - Mohanlal - Sreenivasan combo duplicated pretty much the same formula in Midhunam, but could not recreate the same magic.
Oru Maravathoor Kanavu (A Maravathoor Dream) had debutante director Lal Jose riding on the front of a powerful screenplay by Sreenivasan, and a bravura performance by Mammootty. However, it was evident that here was a skilled director who showed promise. In a departure from his earlier screenplays, Sreenivsan stepped away from the traditional Malayalam milieu, and built characters based on the TN-Kerala border. He also had Mammootty enact one his most successful comedic roles - his dialogues, with a sarcastic Christian tinge, were outstanding.
Udayananu Tharam (Udayan is the Star) does not hold a candle to the best works of Sreenivasan. However, the sarcasm here was directed at the bigwigs of the Malayalam film industry, and once again, that was a first. Sreenivsan took open digs at our superstars, be it at Mohanlal's business ventures, or Mammootty's penchant for dressing up in designer clothes. Most of his barbs, however, were directed at self-proclaimed superstar Dileep. This was venomous, and the audiences lapped it up. The movie is being remade in Tamil, and Hindi - how successful these remakes would be remain to be seen.
Its really a pity that intelligent, 'thinking' cine-people like Sreenivasan fail to keep up with time, and come out with such nonsense. His screenplays were responsible for some of the landmark films of the 1980s, the golden period of Malayalam cinema. Indeed, looking back, Sreenivasan was pretty much to Malayalm cinema, what Hrishikesh Mukherjee was to Bollywood. Looking forward to better cinema from this underrated genius, here's a list of the movies why I regard him as one of the best talents of Malayalam cinema.
Varavelpu (Welcome): Notwithstanding other popular movies from the Sathyan Anthikkad - Mohanlal - Sreenivasan trio, this is most probably their best collaboration IMO. The script by Sreenivasan traces the journey of a Gulf-returned Mohanlal who tries hard to eke out a living in a Communist-infested Kerala by running a private bus. Laced with subtle humor, great all-round performances, and a tight screenplay that never veers too far from reality, this was a gem of a movie. Sadly, it is shortly to be remade in Hindi (read destroyed) by a Priyadarsan crony, with Govinda in the lead.
Vadakku Nokki Yanthram marked the directorial debut of Sreenivasan. Although the movie was interspersed with his characteristic self-effacing wit and deadpan dialogs, the tale of an average-looking guy with an inferiority complex getting married to a beautiful girl was Malayalam cinema's first intentional black comedy, and hit a chord with audiences everywhere. Sreenivasan, through his penchant for self-directed sarcasm and ridiculous situations, depicted the misgivings of an average man beautifully here. Main, Meri Pathni Aur Woh was directly inspired from this movie, and it boasted of a terrific performance by another supremely talented actor, Rajpal Yadav.
Nadodikattu (The Wandering Wind): When one talks of the Mohanlal-Sreenivasan combination, this would in all probability be the first movie that one remembers. The characters of this hilarious rags-to-riches tale - be it the innocent Dasan-Vijayan duo, the paranoid villain Ananthan Nambiar, Gafoorkka who runs a 'yatch' to the 'Gulf', or the hired killer Pavanayi - are still fresh in our minds, despite the movie being almost 3 decades old. This has Sreenivasan at his vintage best - the acerbic wit, the social commentary, and the dig at the typical Malayalee egotism are all there.
Sandesham (Message) was political satire at its best. Apart from the recent Vadivelu-starrer 'Imsai Arasan...' and the Kundan Shah classic 'Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron', I cannot recall a single political satire in our cinema (forgive me if I am not conversant with regional language cinema apart from Malayalam and Tamil). On the pretext of displaying oneupmanship between two brothers (who belong to rival political parties), Sreenivasan launches a scathing indictment on both the political parties of Kerala. Its a tremendously funny film, but nonetheless accurate and socially relevant too.
Chinthavishtayaya Shyamala (Thoughtful Shyamala) was Sreenivasan's second attempt at direction. Audience expectations were high after his acclaimed previous outing, and he didn't let them down either. The opening scene of the movie, where in a scathing indictment of Kerala's electricity board, the dialogue likens electricity to a stray cat, set the mood of the movie. It would perhaps be irreverent to suggest that the irresponsible husband is a manifestation of Lord Rama's inability/refusal to fulfil his responsibilities toward his wife, but the title of the movie certainly seems to slyly suggest so. The movie's harsh indictment of ashram-life at the expense of familiar responsibilities was another hint in this direction, IMO. Once again, the movie was a tremendous success at the BO, and critically acclaimed as well.
Thalayanamanthram (Feminine Wile) saw Sreenivasan take on the universal topic of envy and feminine wile. Urvashi puts in one of her best performances as the middle-class wife. It was to her credit that a character who could have easily come off as a shrew, was instead portrayed as a normal woman with her share of aspirations and failings. Urvashi displayed razor-edge control in not letting her character slip into farce. Unfortunately, it is this control that Urvashi seems to have lost, as can be seen in her recent outings like Achuvinte Amma, and more noticeably in Madhuchandralekha.
Vellanakalude Naadu (The Land of White Elephants) was directed by Priyadarsan at a time when he was still a competent director. Devoid of frills (save the hilarious crowd-pleasing bulldozer sequence), the movie narrates the plight of a road contractor (superbly enacted by Mohanlal) in Kerala. For a change, Sreenivasan plays a serious role - that of the diligent social worker whose family has been killed due to a bridge collapsing - and excels in it too. The Priyan - Mohanlal - Sreenivasan combo duplicated pretty much the same formula in Midhunam, but could not recreate the same magic.
Oru Maravathoor Kanavu (A Maravathoor Dream) had debutante director Lal Jose riding on the front of a powerful screenplay by Sreenivasan, and a bravura performance by Mammootty. However, it was evident that here was a skilled director who showed promise. In a departure from his earlier screenplays, Sreenivsan stepped away from the traditional Malayalam milieu, and built characters based on the TN-Kerala border. He also had Mammootty enact one his most successful comedic roles - his dialogues, with a sarcastic Christian tinge, were outstanding.
Udayananu Tharam (Udayan is the Star) does not hold a candle to the best works of Sreenivasan. However, the sarcasm here was directed at the bigwigs of the Malayalam film industry, and once again, that was a first. Sreenivsan took open digs at our superstars, be it at Mohanlal's business ventures, or Mammootty's penchant for dressing up in designer clothes. Most of his barbs, however, were directed at self-proclaimed superstar Dileep. This was venomous, and the audiences lapped it up. The movie is being remade in Tamil, and Hindi - how successful these remakes would be remain to be seen.
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