Mani is back on track. Pun intended. I guess there is someone who loves trains than does Sheldon Cooper.
I admit that I found the initial animated game sequence a little bleh. But the film redeems itself after the initial hiccough. So does the director after two back to back flops where no one understood what he tried doing.
Dulquer Salman is hot. He is all set to become to the Madhavan of this generation. I know I sound like Shobha De gushing over Raghuram Rajan. So, pardon all the joll. He’s slick, suave and his almost-non-existent-but-definitely-there Malayalam accented Tamil is sexy. Reminds me of Mamooty in Mounam Sammadham. He is not larger than life like most mainstream heroes today. No six pack! He looks real in his Jockey tracks or boxers. Forget that he’s the son of a rich and well educated hero of the yesteryears. Forget that he’s from Sishya, that elitist school in Chennai where kids flaunt their BMWs more than they do, their grades. Dulquer manages to fit in as the middle class West Mambalam lad whose nationalised bank employee family had to run from pillar to post to get him into PSBB. Strikes an AR Rahman chord with the PSBB reference.
Droolquer.
Nithya Menen is what Indian cinema needs. She’s not the size zero lass who shakes a leg and smiles here and there. She looks like she eats more than lettuce leaves and celery stalks. We have seen that Mani has always chosen women with personality. Nithya reminds you of Revathi from Mouna Raagam and Shalini from Alai Payuthey. Her clothes are vintage Mani Ratnam. Earthy and Indian handloom chic. Nalini Sriram again? Silver earrings, buttoned and asymmetric skirts, a riot of Indian colours, fabrics and craft processes… feast for the eyes! The uber expensive luxury bag (Louis Vuitton?)Tara’s mum presents Tara screams the difference between mom and daughter. Old money, Coimbatore, Gounder, Mill owner, private jet, Race Course Road Residence, board meetings versus the artistically inclined, free willed architect who wants to live life in her own terms. Mumbai is just the right setting for that. Gateway to freedom from nosy parents!
As I mentioned earlier, I thought the movie was going to suck, thanks to the animation sequence and Dulquer Salman’s crazy I-want-visibility-with-the-boss scene. Seriously? Sounded like he was high on pot. Now, when I think of that particular scene, I am reminded of veteran Nagesh, playing the raconteur, in Kadhalikka Neramillai where he thrills Balaiah and the audience with his thriller story. I mean, DS is no Nagesh but the scene reminded me of KN. A colleague of mine has to jump in and steal every show with long lectures on stuff he had just chanced upon on the internet. He does nothing, but talks in every meeting and makes sure the boss notices him. I repeat, he does nothing and but goes places in the organization. Yes, we all hate him. Adhi reminded me of that kiss ass colleague.
I understand drunk one night stands in movies. I understand passion that stems from days of togetherness. But I fail to understand it when Tara and Adhi hop into bed after half a dozen scenes. Am I just too old to understand this? But I guess it makes sense in some warped world; they admit it is a relationship without strings and perhaps that is how it is. And ohh, it is surprising and very unreal to find that an Ahmedabad lodge that looks dingy from the outside houses an architectural marvel of a room inside. The swing, the poster bed, the detailed partition… ITC Grand Chola doesn’t have such rooms, I bet.
I don’t like Bombay. There, I said it. I find it dirty, congested and too full of people and matchbox sized apartments with peeling layers of paint. Balconies become bedrooms and bedrooms become full-fledged apartments. But the Bombay shown in OKK seems nice. Adhi and Tara take you to old Bombay haunts in their very Chennai Royal Enfield.
I know most people have said this. And I have to say Amen. Prakashraj and Leela Samson steal the show from Dulquer and Nithya. Leela Samson, Y U NO play more movie roles? I fell in love with the couple the moment I saw her call her husband, ‘Ganapathi’. She looks very convincing as the Carnatic musician in Bombay. Clad in Ikat blouses and sarees, she makes a statement. And I loved it that Mani has portrayed Ganapathy making rasam and ‘manning’ the kitchen. How often do we see movie husbands in their 50s and 60s shelling green peas at the dining table? They are generally seen having their kaapi with a newspaper spread in front of them.
I remember from B Rangan’s ‘Conversations with Mani Ratnam’ that Charu Haasan, Mani’s FIL lost his memory in London and that his daughters sang to him in an attempt to revive his memory. In OKK, Bhavani has memory lapses, thanks to Alzheimer’s. Aadhi’s request for Tara move to his room is shot down by Ganapathi , his landlord. He is sure that his wife would also refuse. In her rare bout of sane moments, she calls her husband old fashioned; he’s the kind of man who would lower the window and put his hand out, in addition to switching on the car indicator, she says. Tara renders a wonderful Carnatic number and gets her passport to Bhavani’s heart and home. Ganapathi submits to that. Ganapathi and Bhavani seem to have great taste: their flat seems wonderfully and tastefully decorated. Very Madras, in the heart of Mumbai. It fits in with Ganapthi’s statement that it was only natural for a Kumbakonam guy from Indian Overseas Bank to gravitate to Mumbai’s Carnatic scene. Hard to swallow that an IOB employee and Carnatic musician can afford that in Bombay.
Music is no Alai Payuthey. But it is OK, Kanmani. And interestingly, I like Mana Mana Mental Manadhil more than I like the Behag composition.
About the many glitches in the movie I felt they were largely because Mani Ratnam has tried hard to ‘connect’ with the current generation. Skype calls, iPad apps, Loopy, video games, animation… the overkill was with the unrealistic, orchestrated attempt to sound net savvy- ‘go to makemytrip.com , get the cheapest flight ticket to Chennai, get BP tablets from the airport pharmacist and meet me at home; your live in girlfriend’s mom is here with her fancy cars and relatives’. And is the very obviously gay colleague character one of the attempts to look cool? Epic fail!
While Mani weaves magic with the romance between Ganapathi and Bhavani, interspersed with handwritten love letters and Carnatic music, he leaves us confused with the romance between Tara and Adhi. The movie suggests that the pair want a fling and nothing else. The ‘love’ word is not used in the movie. Understandably. Appram, enna kalyanam mattum venum kadaisila? And while they are ready to move in and live together, why do they seem to need a marriage certificate in the end? Feeling insecure, Adhi and Tara? And yet, I fell in love with the scene where Adhi says, ‘Paris po, Keeris po.. aanaa enna kalyanam pannindu po’.
Did I like the movie? Yes. I watched it after a hiatus of two years. I wanted to watch THIS movie. And it didn’t let me down. My money is on Mani. Welcome back.
I admit that I found the initial animated game sequence a little bleh. But the film redeems itself after the initial hiccough. So does the director after two back to back flops where no one understood what he tried doing.
Dulquer Salman is hot. He is all set to become to the Madhavan of this generation. I know I sound like Shobha De gushing over Raghuram Rajan. So, pardon all the joll. He’s slick, suave and his almost-non-existent-but-definitely-there Malayalam accented Tamil is sexy. Reminds me of Mamooty in Mounam Sammadham. He is not larger than life like most mainstream heroes today. No six pack! He looks real in his Jockey tracks or boxers. Forget that he’s the son of a rich and well educated hero of the yesteryears. Forget that he’s from Sishya, that elitist school in Chennai where kids flaunt their BMWs more than they do, their grades. Dulquer manages to fit in as the middle class West Mambalam lad whose nationalised bank employee family had to run from pillar to post to get him into PSBB. Strikes an AR Rahman chord with the PSBB reference.
Droolquer.
Nithya Menen is what Indian cinema needs. She’s not the size zero lass who shakes a leg and smiles here and there. She looks like she eats more than lettuce leaves and celery stalks. We have seen that Mani has always chosen women with personality. Nithya reminds you of Revathi from Mouna Raagam and Shalini from Alai Payuthey. Her clothes are vintage Mani Ratnam. Earthy and Indian handloom chic. Nalini Sriram again? Silver earrings, buttoned and asymmetric skirts, a riot of Indian colours, fabrics and craft processes… feast for the eyes! The uber expensive luxury bag (Louis Vuitton?)Tara’s mum presents Tara screams the difference between mom and daughter. Old money, Coimbatore, Gounder, Mill owner, private jet, Race Course Road Residence, board meetings versus the artistically inclined, free willed architect who wants to live life in her own terms. Mumbai is just the right setting for that. Gateway to freedom from nosy parents!
As I mentioned earlier, I thought the movie was going to suck, thanks to the animation sequence and Dulquer Salman’s crazy I-want-visibility-with-the-boss scene. Seriously? Sounded like he was high on pot. Now, when I think of that particular scene, I am reminded of veteran Nagesh, playing the raconteur, in Kadhalikka Neramillai where he thrills Balaiah and the audience with his thriller story. I mean, DS is no Nagesh but the scene reminded me of KN. A colleague of mine has to jump in and steal every show with long lectures on stuff he had just chanced upon on the internet. He does nothing, but talks in every meeting and makes sure the boss notices him. I repeat, he does nothing and but goes places in the organization. Yes, we all hate him. Adhi reminded me of that kiss ass colleague.
I understand drunk one night stands in movies. I understand passion that stems from days of togetherness. But I fail to understand it when Tara and Adhi hop into bed after half a dozen scenes. Am I just too old to understand this? But I guess it makes sense in some warped world; they admit it is a relationship without strings and perhaps that is how it is. And ohh, it is surprising and very unreal to find that an Ahmedabad lodge that looks dingy from the outside houses an architectural marvel of a room inside. The swing, the poster bed, the detailed partition… ITC Grand Chola doesn’t have such rooms, I bet.
I don’t like Bombay. There, I said it. I find it dirty, congested and too full of people and matchbox sized apartments with peeling layers of paint. Balconies become bedrooms and bedrooms become full-fledged apartments. But the Bombay shown in OKK seems nice. Adhi and Tara take you to old Bombay haunts in their very Chennai Royal Enfield.
I know most people have said this. And I have to say Amen. Prakashraj and Leela Samson steal the show from Dulquer and Nithya. Leela Samson, Y U NO play more movie roles? I fell in love with the couple the moment I saw her call her husband, ‘Ganapathi’. She looks very convincing as the Carnatic musician in Bombay. Clad in Ikat blouses and sarees, she makes a statement. And I loved it that Mani has portrayed Ganapathy making rasam and ‘manning’ the kitchen. How often do we see movie husbands in their 50s and 60s shelling green peas at the dining table? They are generally seen having their kaapi with a newspaper spread in front of them.
I remember from B Rangan’s ‘Conversations with Mani Ratnam’ that Charu Haasan, Mani’s FIL lost his memory in London and that his daughters sang to him in an attempt to revive his memory. In OKK, Bhavani has memory lapses, thanks to Alzheimer’s. Aadhi’s request for Tara move to his room is shot down by Ganapathi , his landlord. He is sure that his wife would also refuse. In her rare bout of sane moments, she calls her husband old fashioned; he’s the kind of man who would lower the window and put his hand out, in addition to switching on the car indicator, she says. Tara renders a wonderful Carnatic number and gets her passport to Bhavani’s heart and home. Ganapathi submits to that. Ganapathi and Bhavani seem to have great taste: their flat seems wonderfully and tastefully decorated. Very Madras, in the heart of Mumbai. It fits in with Ganapthi’s statement that it was only natural for a Kumbakonam guy from Indian Overseas Bank to gravitate to Mumbai’s Carnatic scene. Hard to swallow that an IOB employee and Carnatic musician can afford that in Bombay.
Music is no Alai Payuthey. But it is OK, Kanmani. And interestingly, I like Mana Mana Mental Manadhil more than I like the Behag composition.
About the many glitches in the movie I felt they were largely because Mani Ratnam has tried hard to ‘connect’ with the current generation. Skype calls, iPad apps, Loopy, video games, animation… the overkill was with the unrealistic, orchestrated attempt to sound net savvy- ‘go to makemytrip.com , get the cheapest flight ticket to Chennai, get BP tablets from the airport pharmacist and meet me at home; your live in girlfriend’s mom is here with her fancy cars and relatives’. And is the very obviously gay colleague character one of the attempts to look cool? Epic fail!
While Mani weaves magic with the romance between Ganapathi and Bhavani, interspersed with handwritten love letters and Carnatic music, he leaves us confused with the romance between Tara and Adhi. The movie suggests that the pair want a fling and nothing else. The ‘love’ word is not used in the movie. Understandably. Appram, enna kalyanam mattum venum kadaisila? And while they are ready to move in and live together, why do they seem to need a marriage certificate in the end? Feeling insecure, Adhi and Tara? And yet, I fell in love with the scene where Adhi says, ‘Paris po, Keeris po.. aanaa enna kalyanam pannindu po’.
Did I like the movie? Yes. I watched it after a hiatus of two years. I wanted to watch THIS movie. And it didn’t let me down. My money is on Mani. Welcome back.
