A movie that could leave you bored, angry, and frustrated... It has Kamal Haasan look so Narcissistic, putting himself in almost every frame in the film. It is about Kamal. It is about Kamal. It is about Kamal. And yes, again: it is about Kamal. Written all over. I wonder if he ghost-directed it and just used his good friend Ramesh Aravind's name in it. Poor late K. Balachander Sir. Instead of getting a handsome tribute paid by his disciple to the Guru himself, one might feel that it is the other way round... sad!
The problem is not with the experimentation. It is with the implementation.
The armpit humor and the slapstick comedy are way behind times. Nothing new and very, very ordinary. "Folklore" could have been made more interesting or realistic. This theatrical comedy could have been an experiment better-off in the mid-seventies or the early eighties, when Kamal could have afforded to laugh more at himself and try this. The last time I felt an actor was so fixated upon himself was in Bullett Raja, where Saif Ali Khan appeared to have ghost-directed the film. That one had some action; this has nothing.
Kamal could have taken a cue off of another Indian film, "The Dirty Picture", where Naseeruddin Shah beautifully capture stardom's effects and side-effects much more humorously and sarcastically. Or Hrithik Roshan in Luck by Chance.
Ghibran's soundtrack is below average and the theme music too loud; and redundant. Wonder how an A R Rahman, Harris Jayaraj, or even Anirudh Ravichander would have handled it.
This film is pretty pointless. The family members in superstar Manoranjan's life - his wife, his son, his estranged daughter, and his father-in-law - all disrespect or abhor him. But the moment they learn of his fatal tumour, he suddenly wins them over. What the heck! Pretty unrealistic, as this is beyond the point of just feeling sorry, where they actually start admiring him. And he immediately finds lost love. Agreed, the value of someone or something is realized when they're not around anymore, but it could have been shot much more sincerely, showing some effort.
The tête-à-tête scene between the father and the son is good, and it left me yearning for more of such scenes in the film. Especially between Margadarshi and Manoranjan.
The only actors who were watch-worthy were M S Bhaskar, who has emoted pretty well, and Pooja Kumar, who is impressive not just in looks. Nassar is enjoyable and seems to be having a ball as Muttharasan.
Kamal is a natural, though it would be so nice to see him play characters his age, or close. His rendition of the poetry throughout the film seems very pronounced, where the onus is more on the pronunciation, much like a reading contest in school.
As for K Balachander Sir's character, Margadarshi, it is meant to signify one who shows the way, I suppose. Instead, here it is he who is shown the door, it looks like... almost to the point of being made to fall at his disciple's feet. Are you kidding me?!
The premise shows a lot of promise, but there is nothing really captivating in this film, whose subject had so much potential. One may be instantly reminded of other movies of this kind, where a film or a play is being shot inside a film - Birdman, The Producers or Tropic Thunder which are hillllaaae....rious! That is where he fails. It is neither funny nor a dissection of a personality. It is left to the audience to assume and presume (and what not)!
It also shows the plight of South Indian cinema where mass heroes and well-sculpted heroines are demigods and demigoddesses that people worship blindly. Kamal exposes his slow reflexes in the first song of the film, where he tries very hard to impress with his dancing skills, trying to remind one of what a fine dancer he once used to be. Only in vain. To add to the fact that it does not do justice to see him dance around trees with a heroine that can play his daughter or granddaughter!
It is not even poking fun at the way movies are made... neither does Kamal put himself down... nor want people to laugh at him. He is also unable to adeptly deep-dive or even subtly show the emotions behind life's complexities and his baggages from the past. He is somewhere in between. And that's where this could have been better. It is just absurd or the dots have not been connected.
The relationship between K Balachander and Kamal Haasan's characters, inspired from real life that we've read so much about, could have been explored beautifully. Just the way the father-daughter relationship could also have been scripted (and screen-played) much better, as we saw recently in "Birdman".
Margadarshi saying "Fantastic!" to almost every 'cut' sequence seems like pinching us through the cinema screen to oblige by appreciating Kamal's act. Yawn!
Ramesh Aravind is much more humorous and has his own style of directing humour, like in Rama Shama Bhama and Sathyavan Savithri. This one is not just new, but so not him.
It might have been nicer to see a Vikram or a younger actor, in his forties even, play Kamal's role; off-course with a better script.
This, sadly, is no Manoranjan. "Aiyyo Raama!"
The problem is not with the experimentation. It is with the implementation.
The armpit humor and the slapstick comedy are way behind times. Nothing new and very, very ordinary. "Folklore" could have been made more interesting or realistic. This theatrical comedy could have been an experiment better-off in the mid-seventies or the early eighties, when Kamal could have afforded to laugh more at himself and try this. The last time I felt an actor was so fixated upon himself was in Bullett Raja, where Saif Ali Khan appeared to have ghost-directed the film. That one had some action; this has nothing.
Kamal could have taken a cue off of another Indian film, "The Dirty Picture", where Naseeruddin Shah beautifully capture stardom's effects and side-effects much more humorously and sarcastically. Or Hrithik Roshan in Luck by Chance.
Ghibran's soundtrack is below average and the theme music too loud; and redundant. Wonder how an A R Rahman, Harris Jayaraj, or even Anirudh Ravichander would have handled it.
This film is pretty pointless. The family members in superstar Manoranjan's life - his wife, his son, his estranged daughter, and his father-in-law - all disrespect or abhor him. But the moment they learn of his fatal tumour, he suddenly wins them over. What the heck! Pretty unrealistic, as this is beyond the point of just feeling sorry, where they actually start admiring him. And he immediately finds lost love. Agreed, the value of someone or something is realized when they're not around anymore, but it could have been shot much more sincerely, showing some effort.
The tête-à-tête scene between the father and the son is good, and it left me yearning for more of such scenes in the film. Especially between Margadarshi and Manoranjan.
The only actors who were watch-worthy were M S Bhaskar, who has emoted pretty well, and Pooja Kumar, who is impressive not just in looks. Nassar is enjoyable and seems to be having a ball as Muttharasan.
Kamal is a natural, though it would be so nice to see him play characters his age, or close. His rendition of the poetry throughout the film seems very pronounced, where the onus is more on the pronunciation, much like a reading contest in school.
As for K Balachander Sir's character, Margadarshi, it is meant to signify one who shows the way, I suppose. Instead, here it is he who is shown the door, it looks like... almost to the point of being made to fall at his disciple's feet. Are you kidding me?!
The premise shows a lot of promise, but there is nothing really captivating in this film, whose subject had so much potential. One may be instantly reminded of other movies of this kind, where a film or a play is being shot inside a film - Birdman, The Producers or Tropic Thunder which are hillllaaae....rious! That is where he fails. It is neither funny nor a dissection of a personality. It is left to the audience to assume and presume (and what not)!
It also shows the plight of South Indian cinema where mass heroes and well-sculpted heroines are demigods and demigoddesses that people worship blindly. Kamal exposes his slow reflexes in the first song of the film, where he tries very hard to impress with his dancing skills, trying to remind one of what a fine dancer he once used to be. Only in vain. To add to the fact that it does not do justice to see him dance around trees with a heroine that can play his daughter or granddaughter!
It is not even poking fun at the way movies are made... neither does Kamal put himself down... nor want people to laugh at him. He is also unable to adeptly deep-dive or even subtly show the emotions behind life's complexities and his baggages from the past. He is somewhere in between. And that's where this could have been better. It is just absurd or the dots have not been connected.
The relationship between K Balachander and Kamal Haasan's characters, inspired from real life that we've read so much about, could have been explored beautifully. Just the way the father-daughter relationship could also have been scripted (and screen-played) much better, as we saw recently in "Birdman".
Margadarshi saying "Fantastic!" to almost every 'cut' sequence seems like pinching us through the cinema screen to oblige by appreciating Kamal's act. Yawn!
Ramesh Aravind is much more humorous and has his own style of directing humour, like in Rama Shama Bhama and Sathyavan Savithri. This one is not just new, but so not him.
It might have been nicer to see a Vikram or a younger actor, in his forties even, play Kamal's role; off-course with a better script.
This, sadly, is no Manoranjan. "Aiyyo Raama!"
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