Ashiq Aboo does surprise you. At every turn of the story, there is a surprise lurking in the corner, so much so that you can't even write a proper review for fear of spoiling it all for people who want to see the movie, but have not yet gone.
That's not to say that it has no flaws, but like a pucca Malayali, I will not say, 'tharakkedilla'. I loved it, not because every scene is credible but because it was excellent, sane entertainment.
An award is waiting somewhere for Rima Kallinkal. Fahad Fazil is a proven actor now, but he has to move from the urban yuppie type character to something else if he doesn't want to be typecast. In Fahad, you have an actor who isn't afraid of image, so he will do that and more. The way in which he made his comeback should be a clear indication that HE is the man who will be the real actor in the future, who isn't afraid of anything, ready to do a job as it deems fit.
For Pratap Pothen, it's a dream come back role. His character has been etched out wonderfully. So well has he played it out that merely his presence is chilling. There are a few other actors who have done very very well. I don't even want to mention the characters, because then the surprises will not be there.
Kottayam folks may not be pleased if they take it to heart, but it's movie, after all. I have a quarrel with the script in that I believe Kottayamites know their 'bha' from their 'pha'. This lapse is found in people somewhere further to the south. Also in some situations, perhaps only once, humour does fall flat as it is totally out of place.
Altogether, 22 Female Kottayam is as fresh as a daisy, full of surprises, entertaining and has really good acting. Go see it! If you are a woman, NOT to be missed at all!
Prema Manmadhan
Showing posts with label PREMA MANMADHAN. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PREMA MANMADHAN. Show all posts
Friday, April 13, 2012
Monday, May 9, 2011
Miss you, Mum
On Mother's day, 2010, published in the Hindu Metroplus
By Prema Manmadhan
Mother, did I ever tell you I loved you more than anyone? No? Then, it's because our culture is so different from the West.
We hardly ever say, ‘I love you' or ‘I missed you' like Westerners. We think it's funny because we say that in so many ways, in our deeds, in our thoughts and in the way we try to pass on the values that you taught us.
When something drastic happens or when we are dead scared, don't we always turn to you, even though you are not here?
We scream, ‘Mother' in our mother tongue. Now, isn't that proof that you live as long as we do too?
All those teen years, when the word ‘REBEL' flowed through our very veins, we may have said very bad things to you. Like the time we back answered you in front of all those relatives and friends and when you felt you had not brought us up right, maybe. But no, you were always a gem, it was our age that spoke, not us, Mom. Believe me!
But though we felt sad and sorry about it later, there was no way to let you know about it, for in the Indian context, ‘sorry' just didn't figure in our scheme of things. Maybe you sensed it. Of course we did that extra bit of chores so that you would guess that we were really sorry, maybe you saw that and maybe you knew that all along, and forgave us.
We always took you for granted, didn't we? But then that was because we never ever thought there would be a time when you would not be there. That is the reason. But we do so wish we had pampered you more.
When we had our own families, we were too engrossed in that nuclear set up and our jobs and friends. Again you were taken for granted, on looking back. That you were getting older and not as healthy as you might have been never struck us. For us, you were always that sprightly woman, able to deal with anything, the supermom who did not need looking after.
But every day, we think of you, because so much of you is in each of us, so much of what you taught us we practise every day, so much of what you left us, we use, and today, in us, we see you, in our children, we see ourselves. And isn't that what tradition is all about? On this Mother's Day, we open out our hearts to you and say, ‘I miss you so much, Mother'.
Did someone say, ‘I miss you too?'
By Prema Manmadhan
Mother, did I ever tell you I loved you more than anyone? No? Then, it's because our culture is so different from the West.
We hardly ever say, ‘I love you' or ‘I missed you' like Westerners. We think it's funny because we say that in so many ways, in our deeds, in our thoughts and in the way we try to pass on the values that you taught us.
When something drastic happens or when we are dead scared, don't we always turn to you, even though you are not here?
We scream, ‘Mother' in our mother tongue. Now, isn't that proof that you live as long as we do too?
All those teen years, when the word ‘REBEL' flowed through our very veins, we may have said very bad things to you. Like the time we back answered you in front of all those relatives and friends and when you felt you had not brought us up right, maybe. But no, you were always a gem, it was our age that spoke, not us, Mom. Believe me!
But though we felt sad and sorry about it later, there was no way to let you know about it, for in the Indian context, ‘sorry' just didn't figure in our scheme of things. Maybe you sensed it. Of course we did that extra bit of chores so that you would guess that we were really sorry, maybe you saw that and maybe you knew that all along, and forgave us.
We always took you for granted, didn't we? But then that was because we never ever thought there would be a time when you would not be there. That is the reason. But we do so wish we had pampered you more.
When we had our own families, we were too engrossed in that nuclear set up and our jobs and friends. Again you were taken for granted, on looking back. That you were getting older and not as healthy as you might have been never struck us. For us, you were always that sprightly woman, able to deal with anything, the supermom who did not need looking after.
But every day, we think of you, because so much of you is in each of us, so much of what you taught us we practise every day, so much of what you left us, we use, and today, in us, we see you, in our children, we see ourselves. And isn't that what tradition is all about? On this Mother's Day, we open out our hearts to you and say, ‘I miss you so much, Mother'.
Did someone say, ‘I miss you too?'
Monday, November 30, 2009
Neelathamara, film review
(This was published in the Hindu Metroplus, Kochi, dated November 30) R emakes always draw a high degree of curiosity interest. How is it different from the original? The actors are compared, the technicians, music and most of all how faithful it has been to the original. To tackle the last part of the doubts, if it is as faithful to the original as possible, then why make another film at all?
Well, one goes to see a Kathakali performance, knowing the story well, even the dialogues and the ‘padams' perhaps. Then what is it that draws audiences to such performances?
The Ambika link
Let's evaluate the overall effect of the new batch of artistes and technicians. The one link that Ambika has with the new Neelathamara, directed by Lal Jose is this: her brother Suresh Nair acts the role of Apputtan, a negative character. Ambika can definitely be proud of her kid brother who has made this cameo role memorable, with his apt mannerisms.
The woman-centric film that Suresh Kumar, of Revathy Kalamandir, dared to make, rather remake, is an experimental one in many ways. “The producers' association decided to make small budget movies and this is the first one after that decision. Neelathamara cost us under Rs. 1.5 crore. The decision to make movies with new faces was also implemented. After the first day, we are happy that the cinegoers have accepted this small movie with open arms,” says a visibly happy Suresh Kumar, who saw the film 14 times in his youth. Such was its romantic draw. “There's one person who saw it many more times than me: Suresh Gopi, who saw it 27 times,” Suresh Kumar laughs.
M.T.Vasudevan Nair, director Lal Jose and producer Suresh Kumar
Where the first ‘Neelathamara' ends, the present one opens. The remake is actually the flashback. MT has woven a topical twist to his old script which jells well. Sreedevi Unni who dons the mother's role stands out for her natural acting.
Archana Kavi has that vulnerable look and understated emotions that go well with rural girls. The male protagonist is played by Kailash. The smaller characters like the caretaker, the man under the banyan tree and the old servant leave an impression with the viewer.
Carefully cast characters
The young set of characters and the old ones are very carefully cast. When you see a dentist among the credits you wonder why, but Jaya had dentures similar to Samvrutha's fitted in to bring about the similarity.
Rima Kallingal did not seem comfortable in the role of Sharath Ammini. Every character, howsoever small, is a crucial link in the chain of events unfolded in this super-star script.
The short movie (less than two hours) has wonderful photography by Vijay Ulaganathan. Lal Jose has proved that he can handle quite a handful. Cheers to the small is beautiful credo!
Prema Manmadhan
Well, one goes to see a Kathakali performance, knowing the story well, even the dialogues and the ‘padams' perhaps. Then what is it that draws audiences to such performances?
The Ambika link
Let's evaluate the overall effect of the new batch of artistes and technicians. The one link that Ambika has with the new Neelathamara, directed by Lal Jose is this: her brother Suresh Nair acts the role of Apputtan, a negative character. Ambika can definitely be proud of her kid brother who has made this cameo role memorable, with his apt mannerisms.
The woman-centric film that Suresh Kumar, of Revathy Kalamandir, dared to make, rather remake, is an experimental one in many ways. “The producers' association decided to make small budget movies and this is the first one after that decision. Neelathamara cost us under Rs. 1.5 crore. The decision to make movies with new faces was also implemented. After the first day, we are happy that the cinegoers have accepted this small movie with open arms,” says a visibly happy Suresh Kumar, who saw the film 14 times in his youth. Such was its romantic draw. “There's one person who saw it many more times than me: Suresh Gopi, who saw it 27 times,” Suresh Kumar laughs.
M.T.Vasudevan Nair, director Lal Jose and producer Suresh Kumar
Where the first ‘Neelathamara' ends, the present one opens. The remake is actually the flashback. MT has woven a topical twist to his old script which jells well. Sreedevi Unni who dons the mother's role stands out for her natural acting.
Archana Kavi has that vulnerable look and understated emotions that go well with rural girls. The male protagonist is played by Kailash. The smaller characters like the caretaker, the man under the banyan tree and the old servant leave an impression with the viewer.
Carefully cast characters
The young set of characters and the old ones are very carefully cast. When you see a dentist among the credits you wonder why, but Jaya had dentures similar to Samvrutha's fitted in to bring about the similarity.
Rima Kallingal did not seem comfortable in the role of Sharath Ammini. Every character, howsoever small, is a crucial link in the chain of events unfolded in this super-star script.
The short movie (less than two hours) has wonderful photography by Vijay Ulaganathan. Lal Jose has proved that he can handle quite a handful. Cheers to the small is beautiful credo!
Prema Manmadhan
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Kerala Café, film review
The Kerala Café experience (published in The Hindu Metroplus Weekend on October 31)on
CINEMA Kerala Café, a portmanteau film by ten directors, is truly touching, says Prema Manmadhan
The first day, first show of Kerala Café is an experience I will never forget. Prejudiced that 10 short films will not please me, I sit, waiting just to find out what’s new. At the end of two and a half hours, I left the cinema, wondering which of the ten was the best and trying to remember which director directed which. A few scenes refuse to move out of my heart. I am glad I went for Kerala Café.
Eight men and two women (to borrow heavily from Adoor) star in this venture, ‘Kerala Café’ made by Ranjit’s production house, Capitol Theatre. These stars are the 10 directors of as many films woven together by a single thread called Kerala Café, a railway canteen somewhere in Kerala, the one link that brings these diverse subjects under one umbrella, under another label called journey. The ‘sutradhar’ of it all is Ranjit, who is not content to sit back and write scripts or direct movies alone.
Such an experiment, to give the audience a cinematic version of a short story book, has succeeded and failed, though it’s a very new concept. "It has failed where the director has not been able to touch the hearts of the viewers," Ranjit says, confidently, when confronted with this question.
And touch the heart Kerala Cafe did, for all 10 connect with the plight of people. , some the majority and others, the minority. ‘Bridge’, the one directed by Anwar Rasheed, left such a big stone in my heart that not even a two-hour slapstick comedy can lift it off. The fate of the unwanted in society, love notwithstanding, where the practical overrides the emotional as it does in the 21st century, is communicated in great cinematic style. The script, the camera and the actors all merge to make it noteworthy.
Revathy’s ‘Makal’ is another of the social issues that mock society, that is clothed so much in realism that the last scene stings. ‘Mrityunjayam’, Uday Ananthan’s film, belongs to the ‘horror’ genre and is set in today’s milieu. It stars Rima Kallingal, Thilakan and Fahadh Faasil, (remember the guy in ‘Kaiyethum Doorathu’, Fazil’s son?) who plays a journalist. He has since matured into a good actor and a handsome young man. The camera and the ambience take you back into the past but the dilapidated old ‘illam’ and the goings on remain a mystery.
Padmakumar’s ‘Nostalgia’, has the very busy protagonist longs for Kerala at the soirees in his flat, over a drink, in a Gulf country, but actually dreams of pulling down his aristocratic home to build flats: A practical man for whom emotions don’t count, a very contemporary theme, indeed. The other topical subject that is not so serious to many but very worrisome, has been handled by Anjali Menon in ‘Happy Journey’. In long distance buses girls really don’t know who may sit beside them on the plush seats. And that’s the subject. Period. Jagathy and Nithya Menon make this one tenth of Kerala Café memorable.
Shankar Ramakrishnan, an assistant of Ranjit’s gets into independent mode with ‘Island Express’. Prithviraj, with his new hairstyle is dashing with a capital ‘D’. The Perumon tragedy relived by a few whose closest relatives perished then, forms the theme. B Unnikrishnan’s ‘Aviramam’ tackles life during recession, and the hopelessness of it getting to be unbearable. Recession is also the topic that Shyamaprasad deals with in ‘Off Season’, how it has hit westerners too, handled in a lighter vein. Shaji Kailas’ ‘Lalithamhiranmayam’ is again very contemporary, in fact too broad minded for domestic consumption, where the other woman and the official woman don’t tear each other’s hair. Lal Jose’s ‘Puram Kazchakal’ does not make Mammooty into a Pazhassi Raja, but a strong hearted man who keeps his sorrows to himself. Based on C. V. Sreeraman’s story, Lal Jose has handled it with care.
Actors in this big venture are Sreenivasan, Suresh Gopi, Sona Nair, Shantha Devi, Jyothirmayee, Siddique, Salim Kumar, Sudheesh, Dhanya, Jayasurya, Rahman, Sukumari and a few others.
The camera plays a big role in Kerala Café. Credit goes to all these technicians.
Kerala Café was shown at the Middle East International Film Festival earlier this month. "It was a dream I had last May," says the man who dared to gamble with this experiment. The work was stupendous, Ranjit admits when compared to one feature film with one person at the helm. The budget of course is as low as it can get for most of the directors and artistes worked for free, he says. Why isn’t Mohanlal in this venture? "There was no slot for him in any of the scripts as any one can see, that’s why," explains Ranjit.
CINEMA Kerala Café, a portmanteau film by ten directors, is truly touching, says Prema Manmadhan
The first day, first show of Kerala Café is an experience I will never forget. Prejudiced that 10 short films will not please me, I sit, waiting just to find out what’s new. At the end of two and a half hours, I left the cinema, wondering which of the ten was the best and trying to remember which director directed which. A few scenes refuse to move out of my heart. I am glad I went for Kerala Café.
Eight men and two women (to borrow heavily from Adoor) star in this venture, ‘Kerala Café’ made by Ranjit’s production house, Capitol Theatre. These stars are the 10 directors of as many films woven together by a single thread called Kerala Café, a railway canteen somewhere in Kerala, the one link that brings these diverse subjects under one umbrella, under another label called journey. The ‘sutradhar’ of it all is Ranjit, who is not content to sit back and write scripts or direct movies alone.
Such an experiment, to give the audience a cinematic version of a short story book, has succeeded and failed, though it’s a very new concept. "It has failed where the director has not been able to touch the hearts of the viewers," Ranjit says, confidently, when confronted with this question.
And touch the heart Kerala Cafe did, for all 10 connect with the plight of people. , some the majority and others, the minority. ‘Bridge’, the one directed by Anwar Rasheed, left such a big stone in my heart that not even a two-hour slapstick comedy can lift it off. The fate of the unwanted in society, love notwithstanding, where the practical overrides the emotional as it does in the 21st century, is communicated in great cinematic style. The script, the camera and the actors all merge to make it noteworthy.
Revathy’s ‘Makal’ is another of the social issues that mock society, that is clothed so much in realism that the last scene stings. ‘Mrityunjayam’, Uday Ananthan’s film, belongs to the ‘horror’ genre and is set in today’s milieu. It stars Rima Kallingal, Thilakan and Fahadh Faasil, (remember the guy in ‘Kaiyethum Doorathu’, Fazil’s son?) who plays a journalist. He has since matured into a good actor and a handsome young man. The camera and the ambience take you back into the past but the dilapidated old ‘illam’ and the goings on remain a mystery.
Padmakumar’s ‘Nostalgia’, has the very busy protagonist longs for Kerala at the soirees in his flat, over a drink, in a Gulf country, but actually dreams of pulling down his aristocratic home to build flats: A practical man for whom emotions don’t count, a very contemporary theme, indeed. The other topical subject that is not so serious to many but very worrisome, has been handled by Anjali Menon in ‘Happy Journey’. In long distance buses girls really don’t know who may sit beside them on the plush seats. And that’s the subject. Period. Jagathy and Nithya Menon make this one tenth of Kerala Café memorable.
Shankar Ramakrishnan, an assistant of Ranjit’s gets into independent mode with ‘Island Express’. Prithviraj, with his new hairstyle is dashing with a capital ‘D’. The Perumon tragedy relived by a few whose closest relatives perished then, forms the theme. B Unnikrishnan’s ‘Aviramam’ tackles life during recession, and the hopelessness of it getting to be unbearable. Recession is also the topic that Shyamaprasad deals with in ‘Off Season’, how it has hit westerners too, handled in a lighter vein. Shaji Kailas’ ‘Lalithamhiranmayam’ is again very contemporary, in fact too broad minded for domestic consumption, where the other woman and the official woman don’t tear each other’s hair. Lal Jose’s ‘Puram Kazchakal’ does not make Mammooty into a Pazhassi Raja, but a strong hearted man who keeps his sorrows to himself. Based on C. V. Sreeraman’s story, Lal Jose has handled it with care.
Actors in this big venture are Sreenivasan, Suresh Gopi, Sona Nair, Shantha Devi, Jyothirmayee, Siddique, Salim Kumar, Sudheesh, Dhanya, Jayasurya, Rahman, Sukumari and a few others.
The camera plays a big role in Kerala Café. Credit goes to all these technicians.
Kerala Café was shown at the Middle East International Film Festival earlier this month. "It was a dream I had last May," says the man who dared to gamble with this experiment. The work was stupendous, Ranjit admits when compared to one feature film with one person at the helm. The budget of course is as low as it can get for most of the directors and artistes worked for free, he says. Why isn’t Mohanlal in this venture? "There was no slot for him in any of the scripts as any one can see, that’s why," explains Ranjit.
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