Member Reviews

There were only two things I asked of Emergency. One was to literally see the presses stop (we’re shown this twice). The second was for Sam Manekshaw to call Indira Gandhi ‘sweetie’, like Vicky Kaushal does in Sam Bahadur (2023). This, surprisingly, wasn’t fulfilled. I’m certain the makers were aware of the legend of the army chief saying this to the prime minister, but chose to leave it out. Its absence says a lot about this curious film suspended between opposing impulses. Emergency isn’t what I was expecting. For starters, its focus isn’t the Emergency; the events of 1975-77 take up, at a rough estimate, half an hour in a 146-minute film. Instead, this is very much a Indira Gandhi biopic, progressing in linear fashion from her childhood to her assassination in 1984. Since it’s Kangana Ranaut—a BJP MP who has made a number of incendiary statements about minorities and protestors—directing, producing and playing Indira, I was expecting a crazed hatchet job. This too doesn’t happen.

When Hathi Ram Chaudhary says in his world-weary manner, ‘hum toh paatal lok ke permanent niwasi hain’, he’s not just addressing a character in the series. He’s plunging us into the nether-world again, and we dive right in, willingly. The first season of Paatal Lok (2020), directed by Avinash Arun and created by Sudip Sharma, quickly become a benchmark, in the way it lifted a familiar world — weatherbeaten-but-idealistic cops pulled into cases of murder and corruption in high places — by singular story-telling, and characters that stayed with us. I’ve sorely missed my favourite cop, entire lifetimes imprinted in the craggy lines of his face, in the interim. Welcome back, Chaudhary sir.

Jesse Eisenberg’s written and directed Oscar ready film A Real Pain has been released in India. Filled with humour, depths of human experience, trauma and moving on from it, it explores the story of two brothers from different walks of life. Led by Jesse as well as Kieran Culkin, the film is worthy of his international praise for its performances as well as the brilliant yet simple writing of the story and screenplay. A Real Pain begins with two cousins meeting at an airport to head on a trip together. The two, who hardly meet once or twice a year go on a journey together to honour their late grandmother, a survivor of the Holocaust. Billy and David decide to take a tour in Poland, visiting sights of historical significance during World War II and the Holocaust. Along with four others in the group and a tour guide, there is much talk about survivors, generational trauma, the struggle of immigrants and more.

Speaking purely as a whodunit that begins with the discovery of an unidentified corpse, Rekhachithram is particularly pedestrian. The movie starts with a confession, and we cut to a person who could predictably be one of the murderers. It is not a film written for suspense or leading towards one major climactic twist. Still, nothing prepares you the way Rekhachithram takes you deep into a crime that took place so long ago — back when Mammootty hadn’t yet become the megastar he is today. This is partly because the whodunit is always in service of a spectacular amount of cinephilia. Right from the title font which reminds you of classic ‘80s cinema (as though Bharathan himself was the calligrapher) to the way the lost art of fan mail gets integrated into this crime, the love for cinema isn’t merely a flavour in Rekhachithram as much as it is a part of its soul. Even the wordplay of its title, which could be read both as “composite sketch” as well a movie about Rekha, reveals the film’s dual personalities.

What’s cute between a couple heads-over-heels in love might not seem the same for someone sitting on the table next to them in a crowded restaurant. But that’s the beauty of romance, I guess. Gestures that make up a secret language that can be spoken unabashedly and unfiltered in a space that isn’t conducive for romance to grow. It is in the unlikeliest of places that the strongest of romance is brewed between people who are steadfast in their belief that they have found their soulmate. And in the case of the protagonists of Vishnu Varadhan’s Nesippaya, this place is a Portugal prison. But let’s get to it in a minute. First up, the film introduces Akash and Aditi with two contrasting scenes that don’t actually give Nesippaya a romantic vibe. Akash’s Arjun crashes into a school bus, and takes it hostage. Aditi’s Diya is arrested in Portugal for the murder of the rich heir of an Indian businessman based out of the European country. And then, we piece together the reason behind this Portugal sojourn while the narrative crisscrosses between this story and the love story of Arjun and Diya. It is love at first sight for Arjun as he literally turns the spotlight on Diya as she dances her way into his heart. One might argue it is just an infatuation, but from time immemorial, Tamil cinema heroes have often confused crush and infatuation with love, and convinced the audience that they were seeing epic love stories unfold. But let’s get to it in a minute.

A character named Bulli Raju, played by child actor Revanth, mouths expletives that send grown-ups into a tizzy. We hear some of these words while the rest is masked by the background score. A section of the audience may wonder why the filmmaker makes a boy say things beyond his age. The very next minute, writer-director Anil Ravipudi’s Telugu film Sankranthiki Vasthunam reasons that the young mind has been corrupted by an overdose of content on digital platforms! Bulli Raju’s antics in an early scene bring the house down and set the tone for the film. Teaming up with Venkatesh Daggubati for the third time, after the farcical comedies F2 and F3, Anil is aware that all his target audiences want are a few good laughs. Logical reasoning and political correctness can take a backseat. Within that framework, the film delivers several laughs.

Romcoms are all about the first time the leads meet. In 99 cases out of 100, we know what is going to happen to the leads when they cross paths for the first time. Whatever might happen between the first time they meet, and the closing credits start to roll, we know how their stories would end. So, why does this genre still have that allure? There is a joy in vicariously living a happily ever after through the lives of others, right? In Kiruthiga Udhayanidhi’s Kadhalikka Neramillai, these others are Shriya (Nithya Menen) and Siddharth (Ravi Mohan), and it is their story that we follow through different cities, different lives, and different timelines before it ends up like all good romcoms end up as… flawed, familiar, and frabjous. While Kadhalikka Neramillai definitely has the beats of staple Hollywood romcoms of the 90s and 00s, it has its antecedents in an even older Tamil film… K Bhagyaraj’s Mouna Geethangal (1981). In fact, this is an urban and updated version of the 44-year-old film, and there are enough upgrades in Kadhalikka Neramillai to make it more of a hat-tip rather than a full-blown remake. And each of these upgrades work perfectly in sync with the theme and treatment of the movie. Siddharth hates kids, but he loves the idea of romance. Shriya loves kids, and loves the idea of romance. And in between, there is Nirupama (TJ Bhanu), who loves the idea of romance and marriage, and is open to the idea of kids and a family.

Right from the casting of the delightful Nithya Menen as Shriya, to the picture-perfect houses; from AR Rahman’s youthful score to the way these songs are shot, coded in shades of red and blue; there’s a dotingly recreated design in Kadhalikka Neramillai that is meant to evoke Mani Ratnam’s O Kadhal Kanmani (2015). Like the 2015 romance, Kiruthiga Udhayanadhi’s film also is set around two hyper-individualistic protagonists, each with their own sets of rules and quirks. If OKK was about a couple that was marriage-averse, Kadhalikka Neramillai is about two people who do not believe in commitment. But what if you add an extra layer of conflict into their midst by throwing in the idea of having children? That is what makes Kadhalikka Neramillai a cultural update of O Kadhal Kanmani, like a thought exercise that was born when someone mooted, “What if Tara and Aditya from OKK met, but later, when they are in their 30s?” It’s this bit of tweaking that makes for a more complex film. In a casual breakfast scene set at Shriya’s house, we see her correcting her mother (lovingly called Kanmani!) when she assumes Shriya to still be a virgin. This isn’t a movie about glossy love-at-first-sight moments or syrupy meet-cutes. Well into their adult lives, both Sid (Ravi Mohan) and Shriya (Nithya Menen) have been through enough heartbreaks to realise that love is… a matter of time.

‘God works in mysterious ways’ they say, and in a way, love does too. While the romance genre itself is done to death in all art forms, very few Tamil films have captured the intricacies of contemporary relationships and the multiple factors that might have to fall into place for them to work. The latest to join the elusive list is director Kiruthiga Udhayanidhi’s Kadhalikka Neramillai starring the fantastic duo, Nithya Menen and Ravi Mohan. In Kadhalikka Neramillai, Shreya (Nithya) and Sidharth (Ravi Mohan) are two oddballs with diametrically opposite belief systems, only their recent heartbreaks and profession being the common factor between them. While fate brings them together, the meet-cute leads to a dead end. When their paths cross years later, one is now a single parent while the other gets an unwelcome visitor from their past. Whether they put aside their differences and come together forms the rest of Kadhalikka Neramillai.