‘And the Oscar goes to’ does not rise to the stature of Salim Ahmed’s former films, and while it would be unjust to indulge in a comparison as such, it is also inevitable. While it does suggest that there is nothing more magical than what could be conveyed by the medium of cinema, it delivers the said magic, but only in very brief spurts.
‘Virus’ is an effectual ensemble piece that marvellously bonds together the pieces of a jigsaw, thereby rendering complete, a story of how fortitude eventually stamps over irrepressible fear. Emotionally pervasive and unnervingly real, It is also the kind of film that makes you go for a few extra dabs of your hand sanitizer, as you get all set to key down a review.
The structural elements of ‘Uyare’ are bound to be familiar and the genre expectations are all in place, in that it has all the essential prerequisites of a survivor story. And yet, it’s a story that needs to be told, time and again, in a world that has turned a bit too dark with relationships that have gone all adrift.
Prithviraj Sukumaran’s much awaited directorial debut ‘Lucifer’ is more than anything else, a blatant celebration of the star actor that Mohanlal is, and in laying out a feast that caters to the colossal stardom of its leading star, everything else, including inventiveness takes a back seat.
‘Ente Ummante Peru’ strikes you as a missed opportunity, with a handful of awesome performers lending their very best to a tale that does little justice to them. Despite all its earnestness it fails to connect with the viewers, and comes across as a detached, overwrought cinematic piece.
‘Oru Kuprasidha Payyan’ is undermined by quite a few problems and critically lacks the intrigue that could have made a difference. Its overwhelming generic obviousness makes it a slow sinking ship that tugs down along with it a few genuine, terrific performances as well.
Fellini’s take on a man wanting to take a final puff and chuck away a long-standing addiction is akin to the first smoke ever; drawing in a bit too much of a cloudy breath and holding it all in for a moment before the anticipated onset of the dreaded cough, throwing out a whole lot than one had bargained for, in spurts and spasms. And when peace is finally regained, the smoke or what is left of it, slowly dissipates into the air around.
It’s a totally incoherent and embroidered universe that ‘Abhiyude Kadha Anuvinteyum’ lets its characters roam about it in. Shamelessly sentimental and cringingly syrupy, here is a film that misses its mark by a mile.
Kamal’s ‘Aami’ falls short of the requisites of an elegant biopic by a mile, and plays along like an unimaginatively scripted radio show, never really drawing you in, and never really letting you leave either. There is little of that captivating life that had enamored us here, or even less of the angst and authenticity of the woman who had chosen to live and love on her own inimitable terms.
In ‘Mayanadhi, director Aashiq Abu, armed with a dexterously penned screenplay, settles down to sensitively sketch a doomed tale of love. An impeccable reconstruction of an age-old narrative in an untested realistic setting, ‘Mayanadhi’ is the kind of film that holds a depth of meanings in those abstract gazes, a profundity of emotions in those unuttered words, and which leaves an inexplicable, seething sting at the upshot of it all.
It could only be a real zany mind that would have the nerve to start off his film the way Dominic Arun does, that within minutes has the audience dropping their jaws – either in amazement or in morbid fear of what’s in store for the next couple of hours. The effect is pretty much similar to what Terry Zwigoff accomplishes with ‘Bad Santa’, where he adeptly replaces the chubby, soft footed, white bearded old man that we have long been accustomed to, with a drunken, bad-ass, swearing champ, Billy Bob Thornton.