Azhagarsamiyin kudhirai (2011)

A cute story set in a rural milieu with the right dash of love, comedy, drama and suspense. And spiked with Illayaraja’s mesmerizing music. That’s Suseendran’s ‘Azhagarsamiyin kudhirai,’ a tale of two Azhagarsamiyis whose horses go missing.

Malayapuram, a village near Theni is gearing up for its annual fest, the thiruvizha, in order to appease the Rain Gods.  But one morning, the wooden horse on which Azhagarsamy, the village deity is carried around is stolen. So a Kerala namboodiri is brought in, who the villagers hope will solve the mystery using his astrological prowess. They fail to see that he is a conman. 

One night, a white stallion finds its way into the village temple and the namboodiri exploits the innocent villagers by insisting that Azhagarsamy’s wooden horse was back, but in its real form.  Subsequently, when several good things happen in the village, the people consider the horse a lucky charm. And they will not part with it, not even if it’s rightful owner, Azhagarsamy, (Appukutty of Venilla Kabadi kuzhu) hailing from the neighbouring village, comes in search of it. Appu, the horse is his childhood friend and he makes a living with it. Naturally, he wants his horse back. Finding Appu will also will get him his bride, the fair and pretty, Rani, (Saranya Mohan) as promised by her father. Woven into the main story is a parallel love story. 

Plus Points: This simple and straight forward narrative keeps the viewer engaged.  Excellent casting, be it the village President, or the naughty ‘Minor,’ with his dark glasses who goes about sowing his wild oats. Everyone essays their part to perfection without going overboard. New comers Advaitha and Prabhakaran as the young lovers acquit themselves well. Appukutty in the shoes of Azhagarsamy fits the role to the T. Saranya Mohan, though in a small role as his lady love, Rani impresses with her subtle acting. Another plus is the clean humour, sans double entendres and slapstick comedy. 

Minus Points: Only wish the editor had used his scissors with comedy tracks featuring the namboodiri and the policeman in mufti. By the way, why can’t Tamil directors get it right when it comes to dialogues in Malayalam? 

Music: Illayaraja’s score especially the playful strains of ‘kuthikira kuthikira kuthirakutty,’ follow you long after you leave the hall.  

Camerawork: Awesome! The lush environs around Theni captured by Theni Eashwar enhance further Bhaskar Sakthi’s story and Suseendran’s screenplay. 

Verdict: Azhagarsamyin kuthirai comes as a fresh breath of air, after a spate of urban centric clichéd stories shot abroad. 


The Alamelu

Memories in March (2010)

OFF THE BEATEN PATH


Film makers in the west have made films on alternate sexuality. But this subject is seldom touched upon in Indian cinema. Oh yes, we do refer to homosexuality with tongue in cheek humour (as in ‘Dostana’) or pass it off as cheap jokes (you see this in Kollywood films). Coming to mind also is Deepa Mehta’s ‘Fire,’ starring Shabana Azmi and Nandita Das, a film that dwelt on the lesbian relationship between two co-sisters. The director dared to broach a subject that was a taboo in 1996 earning the wrath of the moral brigade. 

Today, with the decriminalization of Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, homosexuality is out in the open and no longer referred to in hushed tones. Yet, director Sanjoy Nag’s debut film, ‘Memories in March,’ did not linger in theaters for more than a week. Written by Rituparno Ghosh, the film talks about homosexuality, but does not make a big fuss over it. 

How does a single mother, who is trying to grapple with the sudden demise of her only child, come to terms with her son’s sexual leanings? This is what ‘Memories in March,’ tries to understand.
Siddharth, a young copy writer working in Kolkata dies in a car accident. His mother, Aarti Mishra, an art curator, flies down from Delhi. Post funeral, she stays for three days in his apartment. Besides, carrying his remains, she wants to take back with her his belongings. She  visits his office and expresses her desire to take Sid’s possessions left there. But Ornob, Sid’s boss does not immediately hand them over to her. He tells her he needs time to think, much to her chagrin. While trying to pacify an irate Aarti, Sid’s colleague, Sahana reveals the truth about Sid and Ornob; that the two shared a relationship.  Naturally, Aarti finds it hard to accept, she believes like every other mother, that she knows her child well. 

Deepti Naval as the bereaved mother remains with you long after the story is over. Her poignant expressions are perfect. You understand her anguish when she repeatedly questions Sahana and Ornob, ‘Why did no one bother to drive Sid home when he was drunk that fateful night.’
 And when she calls up Sahana late in the night to tell her about the condoms she found in Sid’s cupboard, (as if to assert that Sid was straight after all), you can’t help feeling sorry for this mother. You blink your tears, when she asks Ornob, “Why did you seduce my son. Why did you choose him?” You almost nod in assent when she tells Ornob, that had she known about Sid earlier, she would have taken him to a psychiatrist. Watching this talented actress of yore is a pleasure. 

Although the film moves at a slow pace, it keeps you engaged with its realistic touches to the story.  In an interesting approach, the director refrains from showing any photograph of Sid. He leaves it to the imagination of the viewers who get to know him through his letters and conversations with his mother.
As for Sahana, she is a young and smart woman of today whose love for Sid goes unrequited.   Dignified yet caring, Sahana takes it in her stride and moves on with life, even after his death. That was a commendable performance from Raima Sen. 

Rituparno Ghosh as Ornob, Sid’s gay partner is brilliant with his dialogue delivery. He reaches out to Aarti, whom he seems to know well, through Sid. Noteworthy is the fact that the director has not stereotyped him with costumes and mannerisms to emphasize his alternate sexuality.
As curtains down, Aarti realizes that Sid had left behind a little bit of himself in his two friends,  something that she could not take home. Sadly, even the urn containing his ashes is broken in a rain storm on the eve of her departure. So much for tangible possessions!
One thing I failed to understand was how could a mother within a short span of three days  reconcile with her son’s lover and even bond with him. That may have been possible over time though.

The Alamelu