It's not funny!

Film name: Moone Moonu Varthai
Director: Madhumitha
Cast: Arjun, Aditi, Venkatesh Harinathan, S P B, Lakshmi, Darshana Rajendran, K Baghyaraj, M S Baskar, S P Saran

After being forced to fend for himself by his grandparents, Arjun, a lazy, irresponsible but reasonably intelligent guy, begins an interesting venture with his friend Karna. The two decide to deliver ‘bad news’ that other people find awkward to break, for a fee. 

Business is good until one day a guy, who is to get married, assigns them the task of breaking the news of his bride’s ongoing love affair with her boyfriend on the day of their wedding. The two agree and their announcement causes the wedding to get called off. However, the two later get to know that the girl has had no such affair and that the boy, in a bid to stop his wedding and marry the girl of his choice, had made them utter a lie. 

Ridden with guilt, they decide to confess their mistake and make their way to the bride’s home, only to find that the bride is the sister of Anjali, Arjun’s girlfriend. Soon, arguments break out and the two find delivering bad news is not all that easy as it seems...

The film has an interesting plot, some skillful actors and efficient technicians who seem to have poured their heart and soul into it but unfortunately, it lacks what every comedy sequence in a film must have – timing.  Moone Moonu Varthai is a classic example of how a comedy can easily turn into a drag, if the timing goes for a toss despite everything else being in place. 

Comedy also has a lot to do with elements of wit and surprise and when enough attention isn’t paid to these aspects, the humour doesn’t come through.  Most counters in Moone Moonu Varthai are either very predictable or are not witty enough. True, the film does have certain funny sequences that work but they are few and far in between.

While all the actors in the film are good in their own way, one feels compelled to raise the question of whether they have been cast right. However, the film does have its strengths and the most important of them all is this actor called Venkatesh Hariharan, who plays the role of Karna. Genuinely funny, Venkatesh seems to have relished this opportunity and is the sole reason we find certain scenes to be funny. Without him, the film would have become an even more taxing affair. Other than him and M S Baskar, who comes for a brief period, not many manage to make an impression.

 A little more tightening at the editing table could have made this film into a more interesting affair. However, that is not to be. On the whole, one  feels that director Madhumita,  hasn’t made the most of a wonderful story that could have been turned into an engrossing, entertaining film.

This Kanmani is much much more than just OK!

I confess. I am not a Mani Ratnam fan. 

I’m an old-fashioned critic and cynic. But even I have to admit that after watching O Kadhal Kanmani, I have been forced to reconsider my views on live-in relationships and those who opt for it.

Need I still spell it out? The film is a winner and by a clear margin!

Mani’s film, the plot of which revolves around two young lively characters namely Tara (played by Nithya Menon) and Aadhi (Dulquer Salman), has some exceptional acting, brilliant cinematography, scintillating music and sensible editing all of which combine well to make it a delight to watch.

Aadhi, a game developer, meets Tara, an architect, at a Mumbai railway station. The two have something in common. Their priority lists have career ranked way over marriage. Er.., actually, the word marriage doesn’t figure in either of their lists.

The circumstances under which they meet is as interesting as the manner in which their relationship progresses from one stage to another. Right from the time of being an acquaintance, to the time Tara chooses to move in with Aadhi, the story moves seamlessly and dare I say, flawlessly. Importantly, it moves in a fashion that keeps you engaged.

The beauty of the film lies more in the second half when the families get to know of their controversial move. How the two go about defending their decision and in the process, end up searching their souls to seek out what they really want in life is what the film is all about.

Mani Ratnam needs to be congratulated for several reasons. First, the courage for having broached upon a subject that has for long been shunned by Tamil filmmakers. Second, the manner in which he seems to have narrated the story. Taut, sleek and sensible is how I’d like to define it.

 
Last but not the least, I am really impressed with the manner he has showcased Aadhi’s character. Daring to  be different and independent but at the same time, being responsible and practical, Aadhi comes across as a man who likes to stand his ground. A welcome change from the way heroes in movies based on interpersonal relationships have been showcased until now. Yes,  and by that I am referring to directors who deliberately make their female characters assume the moral high ground over their male ones. However, Mani Ratnam doesn’t do any of that. He simply holds out a mirror to society for it to know what it now looks like.

Finally, before I wind up, I’d like to say something to those of you who, like me, still believe in the institution of marriage and are worried about the film being against it. I’d say to you all, DON’T WORRY. I had a smile when I left the theatre after the film ended.  So will you.

- by Manigandan K R

Remembering a compassionate hero

It’s my dad’s birthday today. Five years have passed since he left us for his eternal abode but his memories, most of which are associated with his acts of kindness, still abound.  

People loved him for his gentle nature, polite manners, his willingness to help and his ability to understand. I loved him for the man he was. Being with him was such a joy that sometimes while returning from school, if I felt like being pampered, I would head straight to meet my dad in his chambers at the Madras High Court, not waiting for him to return home.

Despite my unannounced arrival, he would receive me lovingly and treat me to goodies. I would sit at his table and enjoy the tastiest of delicacies while he would be busy poring over work or running around with his clients. I didn’t know then that often, the money he spent on me was the money he had saved for his lunch the next day. No, it was not that my dad had a dearth of clients and therefore couldn’t make enough money. In fact, he was a good lawyer and had several clients. The problem, which I happened to realize during one of my visits to his chambers, was something else. It was compassion.

On the day that this piece of wisdom dawned on me, my dad had won a divorce case. His client, a frail woman, approached him after the verdict and thanked him profusely. After a while, she softly made enquiries about his fees to which my dad, after thinking a while, said, “Pay me what you can.”  She hesitantly handed him two hundred Rupee notes, half expecting him to ask for more. My dad took it, thanked her and briskly made his way out of the court with me trotting beside him. As we were walking, I was curious to know why he hadn’t charged her more. After all, he had won her a case that would alter the course of her life. Placing an order for my favourite food items at a restaurant, he turned to me and lovingly said, “Child, people who come to courts do not come here because they want to but because they have no other option. That lady is in great pain. She might have won a case but her family’s just been broken. There is no joy in this victory. Would you still want me to charge her more?”  The truth struck me then. For the first time, I understood that a win necessarily did not mean happiness. I also realized why my dad always struggled to make ends meet.

Often, his decisions would appear simple but the thought processes behind them weren’t.  Before turning a lawyer, my dad was a professor. He taught English, while my mom taught Tamil at a college. When my sisters were born and one of them had to quit their jobs to look after them, my dad decided to give up his career and stay back at home as he knew that my mom’s family was dependent on her salary then.  Needless to say, the love and understanding that the two shared was something phenomenal  and something which lasted right till the very end. 

The heir to a rich chartered accountant, my dad never had a desire to acquire wealth. To him, people mattered more. That was exactly why he had no qualms when my grandfather decided to donate huge tracts of land owned by the family to the poor. In return, he enjoyed enormous respect and love from the masses. 

In fact, whenever we visited our native place, relatives from even neighbouring villages would pour in. They would invite us for a meal at their place and would refuse to budge until we accepted their invites.  Anywhere between 10-15 invitations would be received during the course of a week, usually the time we spent at our native place. While I always preferred visiting some of my uncles’ places, my dad would be careful not to disregard any invite. He would visit all the poorer relatives first, lest they be hurt and would relish the simple meals they offered in the same manner he would enjoy an elaborate and delicious spread laid out at the places of our wealthier relatives. 

Everywhere he went, people would congregate. He was a person who could mingle with both the rich and the poor with equal ease. Usually, after the feasts, he would get to resolving long-pending disputes between families and neighbours. His knowledge of the law and the respect they had for him enabled him to resolve many an issue amicably. He’d say, “If you go to court, this will be the verdict. But you and your opponent will both have to spend a fortune to have this fought in court. Take my advice and resolve the issue here itself.” Needless to say, the matter would end there.

While most people remember him for his compassion, I will always remember him for the immense faith he reposed in me. Once, after having been diagnosed with cancer, a relative of ours was seen talking to him, offering assistance with the intention of bolstering his confidence. The person my dad was, he said with a smile, “Don’t worry about me. My son is here and he will take care of me. When he is with me, I feel like I have the strength of a thousand elephants.”

I don’t know if I lived up to the huge expectations he placed in me. But nevertheless, I tried. I don’t even know if I can be half as good as my dad when it comes to being compassionate but I am trying. And while trying to do that, what I have realized is that while there are several successful people, there are not as many loving and compassionate people left. That probably is why I feel that this world has become poorer without him.