Wednesday, May 24, 2023
Scattered Notes on Super Deluxe: “What Does It All Mean?”
Tuesday, May 23, 2023
Scattered Notes on Super Deluxe: Follow-up Exchanges Part 2
[Exchange with @alokranj]
@equanimus: To clarify, my remark about the film's glibness was not related to the jokey/tongue-in-cheek treatment (which as @alokranj says is there only in the initial scenes; well, even here, one can see the Mysskin-written portion stands apart!) but about the glibness in the philosophical ideas explored. I do otherwise think the films aims for something higher (than tongue-in-cheek/ironic distance style) in general and esp as it progresses, like I noted in my 1st post (a very hurried and haphazard note, I might add). I do think the film is far more ambitious than and purposeful than Aaranya Kaandam, which surprised me. But I had serious reservations about how it plays out, which I thought was muddled up. That's kinda the point I was trying to make in that post. Resumed my conversation with @complicateur with a couple of more posts above which are even more unwieldy and go into various questions in a dull way.
@equanimus: Yes, my arguments are:
Having said all this, I agree with you about the boldness of the film's ending and how captivating it is. I do recall feeling it was a thrilling way to end the film.
@alokranj: In the boys' narrative, what did you think of the "alien"? Were you thrown off by it? Kumararaja and the writers take a huge risk there and lot depends whether you allow yourself to remain in the story after that episode.
@equanimus: Oh that worked for me completely, the story also had a bit of broader dreamlike treatment prior to the twist too. I agree it was a risk but then it works precisely because the film brings the alien as if to 'enlighten' the boys as opposed to bring about some abrupt resolution.
I even wonder if many people are hung up on the meaning of the alien simply because they think it ought to have done more! (Not condescending but I think the larger Tamil audiences aren't used to a deliberate surreal style unless done with a sleight of hand leading them to it.)
@alokranj: That's good to know. I also thought if the film stressed a dream-like, surreal treatment a little more, if it cranked up "Lynchian" aspect of a day gone really weird trope through lighting, set design etc, it would have worked even better
@equanimus: True. Like I said, I found the boys' story to be the most effective for this reason. Maybe even the other stories are meant to be like that but at least I didn't receive them that way.
@alokranj: In my 20s I thought surrendering yourself to God was easy and commonplace thing to do. Now in my 30s I think that surrendering yourself to nihilism is the easier option to take ;) May be in my 40s I will finally regain my lost faith ;)
@equanimus: :-) But seriously, I'm sure you'd agree it's not a binary "this or that." And my point of "considering how base and manufactured some of the suffering is" would apply to surrendering in general, whether to god or nihilism. :-) I'd also seriously question if the aloof cool of Kumararaja (let's just say, in his previous film Aaranya Kaandam for us to have a somewhat common ground :-)) has to be accounted for as nihilism proper. There's a great deal of "everyone's liberty to have fun, etc." in the overall stance against moralism as well. I get how you read the film's question about the meaning of life, God in Arputham's story but just clarifying that, in my view, he doesn't come off as either seriously nihilistic or wrestling with nihilism. :-)
Scattered Notes on Super Deluxe: Follow-up Exchanges Part 1
[In response to @complicateur]
[Btw, I was also going to mention an example of a character sketched as cool in the face of adversity in above reply, but seems you weren't really talking about that. Mentioning it anyway though I'd say this movie doesn't warrant any comparison at all: Das from Soodhu Kavvum.]
[...]
Also, another really conventional choice that I want to carefully put forth: rape in mainstream cinema serves as a trope for revenge/vigilante narratives, which new age/liberal filmmakers are wary of and avoid/try comment on. Here it just seemed wrong that there are 2 scenes set up in a very similar way and the one with the traditionally attractive heroine is averted (stated differently, her crying and pleading come off as a 'familiar' appeal if I may put it that way, as if to pretty much necessitate the deus ex machina). This a very delicate point, I am obviously not at all suggesting it'd have worked if the film remained a 'truly amoral universe' all through (Berlin's prolonged presence as it is didn't work for me at all). But again, just want to register that this came off as a very conventional choice.
[And to be clear, here, I'm not criticising the film's politics per se, in terms of how it treats its trans character and so on. (Not distancing myself from such criticisms really but I also such criticisms are sometimes misplaced when the consideration is purely about "what happened to the character at the end?") My point is particularly about how the film treats the threat of rape differently in 2 similar sequences in the film.— equanimus (@equanimus)
[...]
Well, my point was not that we shouldn't probe what happens in the narrative, but the backdrop details that are being found don't seem to change the narrative in our eyes in any way. I don't get why everyone is even talking about cause and effect in the first place, when in the film, it's just 2 moments (one of which unfortunately is placed just as a flashback insert). I'm not saying there should have been more (or less for that matter) but it's not clear to me what the presences of these elements/echoes actually mean. About the question of why should the TV fall there, I don't get why there should be an explanation beyond the idea of having a cool coinciding moment Kumararaja seems to have gone for. :-) Even the logic that "the movie has to end" requires a playful meta angle or something.
[...]
Ha ha, I return to my earlier point - I think I just didn't look at the film in this specific frame of reference: as specifically about "what scenarios it pushes its characters into for their actions?" In this kind of plotty narrative, something or the other happens all the time. If your point/reading is that the film ensures it doesn't leave room for any simplistic interpretations of "this happens to this person because...", I do kinda see where you're getting at. (Except things don't happen that randomly either.)
[Exchange with @tifoskrishna]
@tifosikrishna: "Philosophical ideas don't cohere" - agreed, but to set up a premise to let us reflect in such morally complex questions is a task in itself. And all the effort/investment was worth it only because of the way movie ended. I liked Dasavatharam for the same reason.
@equanimus: I'd question if the film actually dwelt on the questions (complex or otherwise) it raises. If I were to be a bit more uncharitable, I'd say the film's tongue-in-cheek approach and the overall message of "take it easy, you're insignificant" allows it to say stuff that can't be critiqued seriously because, well, one'd then be taking oneself too seriously! (But to be fair, I wouldn't level this charge on the movie itself, as I'm still curious what the film's sincere position is, but for this kind of a movie, the discussions can go in that direction. :-))P.S.: This is btw why I'm also (as yet) inclined to talk only about the formal and narrative aspects of the film and not its politics or some other weighty considerations like that.
Scattered Notes on Super Deluxe
Also, sincere question to those who have seen the movie: was the abrupt intrusion of TV into one of the narratives a captivating moment for you? It worked at some level as a cool way to connect 2 of the stories, but pretty much knowing something had to happen, it just seemed par for the course. I heard one comment about the newness in letting the following action happen a while later (in the film's timeline) in another story. I must confess it didn't seem strikingly inventive to me. Doesn't this sort of stuff happen all the time in a Guy Ritchie universe which multiple Tamil films (Aaranya Kaandam included) have drawn inspiration from in last 10 years or so? But then I tried to think of an actual example and couldn't spot any. So, FWIW, it does seem unique in a purely formal sense.
As in a scene will have ripple effects which we don't necessarily see? Isn't this interconnectedness itself often an exaggerated storytelling device than something that's actually true to life? BR talked about how this is a commentary on random coincidences and not a karmic intervention, which I didn't quite understand. How is this different from a deus ex machina? But to be fair (noted in follow-up tweet), it does look like there hasn't been a similar moment in Tamil cinema.
Sunday, May 21, 2023
Scattered Notes on Super Deluxe - tweets collated
Scattered thoughts on Super Deluxe...
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 3, 2019
Read: https://t.co/gSyaq5YErL
Also, sincere question to those who have seen the movie: was the abrupt intrusion of TV into one of the narratives a captivating moment for you? It worked at some level as a cool way to connect 2 of the stories, but pretty much knowing something had to happen, it just seemed par
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 3, 2019
for the course. I heard one comment about the newness in letting the following action happen a while later (in the film's timeline) in another story. I must confess it didn't seem strikingly inventive to me. Doesn't this sort of stuff happen all the time in a Guy Ritchie universe
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 3, 2019
which multiple Tamil films (Aaranya Kaandam included) have drawn inspiration from in last 10 years or so? But then I tried to think of an actual example and couldn't spot any. So, FWIW, it does seem unique in a purely formal sense.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 3, 2019
As in a scene will have ripple effects which we don't necessarily see? Isn't this interconnectedness itself often an exaggerated storytelling device than something that's actually true to life? BR talked about how this is a commentary on random coincidences and not a karmic..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 3, 2019
intervention, which I didn't quite understand. How is this different from a deus ex machina? But to be fair (noted in follow-up tweet), it does look like there hasn't been a similar moment in Tamil cinema.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 3, 2019
And I'd also reiterate that I'm not complaining about the deus ex machina. Indeed I'd have thought there'll be more of those to tie the strands together. Just this one instance in fact came off as less than what would pass as normal in these stories!
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 3, 2019
"people or principle" question சரியா நினைவில்ல. :-) Are you talking about how we as the audience expect the movie to impose certain turns in the situation of characters based on their actions, and the movie actually doesn't? I'm not sure if this film could be characterised as one
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 4, 2019
making this move? After all, 2 of the strands are so dramatic and are of "what are the odds?" variety in the first place. The Leela story coasts along expected lines (not a complaint, just saying it's more about what the characters go through). the Vaembu story on the other hand
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 4, 2019
starts with assuming a really grave situation (via the extreme contrivance that they decide to assume the role of murderers) and there's really no surprise in terms of offsetting our expectations. We expect things to go from bad to worse while we root for them and they eventually
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 4, 2019
survive. And that's pretty much what happens. My point is, the moment you've parallel strands, the audience already expects them to collide and impinge on one another in interesting ways. Here, the oddity (in a simple-minded sense) was that it doesn't even collide all that much..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 4, 2019
.. and nor is there (i.e. I was unable to find) a broader commentary on how life just chugs along with random mundane events with little sense of justice. A happy closure is brought about in a typical way for all the individual strands. The story of the boys is the one that is..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 4, 2019
attuned to the "fuck it dude, let's go bowling" ethos, esp in the way the film sketches Gaaji as a particularly equanimous presence, but it's weak because their situation is selfconsciously blown out of proportions from the start, unlike the other two.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 4, 2019
On Gaaji, oh yeah, I didn't find his character sketch as a whole, impressive at all. But it seemed to me the film does try to privilege his vantage point by having specific moments that suggest he has greater clarity and சமநிலை. Anyway, I highlighted this because it felt like..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 4, 2019
Kumararaja was invested more in this seemingly frivolous story than the other ones. In this story, one could say things take absurd turns but the characters chug along without much success but also without any grave outcomes. What else is actually random as opposed to designed,..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 4, 2019
(in the other strands) is what I was trying to ask. I didn't get your point about the film not taking any position or attempt to show just chaotic things happening.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 4, 2019
[Btw, I was also going to mention an example of a character sketched as cool in the face of adversity in above reply, but seems you weren't really talking about that. Mentioning it anyway though I'd say this movie doesn't warrant any comparison at all: Das from Soodhu Kavvum.]
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 4, 2019
"Philosophical ideas don't cohere" - agreed, but to set up a premise to let us reflect in such morally complex questions is a task in itself. And all the effort/investment was worth it only because of the way movie ended. I liked Dasavatharam for the same reason.
— InteLessual (@tifosikrishna) April 4, 2019
I'd question if the film actually dwelt on the questions (complex or otherwise) it raises. If I were to be a bit more uncharitable, I'd say the film's tongue-in-cheek approach and the overall message of "take it easy, you're insignificant" allows it to say stuff that can't be..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 5, 2019
critiqued seriously because, well, one'd then be taking oneself too seriously! (But to be fair, I wouldn't level this charge on the movie itself, as I'm still curious what the film's sincere position is, but for this kind of a movie, the discussions can go in that direction. :-))
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 5, 2019
P.S.: This is btw why I'm also (as yet) inclined to talk only about the formal and narrative aspects of the film and not its politics or some other weighty considerations like that.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 5, 2019
Agree. Much of what happens and how characters respond are of the "இனிமே நீ என்ன சொன்னாலும் நம்பப் போறேன்" (Minnale friend's line) variety, didn't seem to have any kind of congruous emotional register to absorb one beyond that. (Doing ironic distance involves a register too.)
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 5, 2019
.@complicateur Yes, to begin with, I don't see the point in digging into these overlapping (cont) https://t.co/8DG9kFpcec
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
.@complicateur Regarding Gaaji, I thought the film positions him differently at multiple places, though I (cont) https://t.co/HKtLwpwZ13
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
Also, another really conventional choice that I want to carefully put forth: rape in mainstream cinema serves as a trope for revenge/vigilante narratives, which new age/liberal filmmakers are wary of and avoid/try comment on. Here it just seemed wrong that there are 2 scenes set
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
up in a very similar way and the one with the traditionally attractive heroine is averted (stated differently, her crying and pleading come off as a 'familiar' appeal if I may put it that way, as if to pretty much necessitate the deus ex machina). This a very delicate point, I am
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
obviously not at all suggesting it'd have worked if the film remained a 'truly amoral universe' all through (Berlin's prolonged presence as it is didn't work for me at all). But again, just want to register that this came off as a very conventional choice.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
[And to be clear, here, I'm not criticising the film's politics per se, in terms of how it treats its trans character and so on. (Not distancing myself from such criticisms really but I also such criticisms are sometimes misplaced when the consideration is purely about "what
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
happened to the character at the end?") My point is particularly about how the film treats the threat of rape differently in 2 similar sequences in the film.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
Well, my point was not that we shouldn't probe what happens in the narrative, but the backdrop details that are being found don't seem to change the narrative in our eyes in any way. I don't get why everyone is even talking about cause and effect in the first place, when in the..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
film, it's just 2 moments (one of which unfortunately is placed just as a flashback insert). I'm not saying there should have been more (or less for that matter) but it's not clear to me what the presences of these elements/echoes actually mean. About the question of why should..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
the TV fall there, I don't get why there should be an explanation beyond the idea of having a cool coinciding moment Kumararaja seems to have gone for. :-) Even the logic that "the movie has to end" requires a playful meta angle or something.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
To clarify, my remark about the film's glibness was not related to the jokey/tongue-in-cheek treatment (which as @alokranj says is there only in the initial scenes; well, even here, one can see the Mysskin-written portion stands apart!) but about the glibness in the philosophical
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
ideas explored. I do otherwise think the films aims for something higher (than tongue-in-cheek/ironic distance style) in general and esp as it progresses, like I noted in my 1st post (a very hurried and haphazard note, I might add). I do think the film is far more ambitious than
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
and purposeful than Aaranya Kaandam, which surprised me. But I had serious reservations about how it plays out, which I thought was muddled up. That's kinda the point I was trying to make in that post. Just resumed my conversation with @complicateur with a couple of more posts,..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
which are even more unwieldy and go into various questions in a dull way: https://t.co/8Dp1EiNueH, https://t.co/wdA0QrOczV.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
Oh, sure, the film is clearly self-conscious of its artifice, its filmy universe. I meant a specific kind of playful angle like "so now we have to come to the end, isn't it?" which I don't think is there. "If the threat to Vaembu had not been averted" Vaembu is portrayed as a..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
Ha ha, I return to my earlier point - I think I just didn't look at the film in this specific frame of reference: as specifically about "what scenarios it pushes its characters into for their actions?" In this kind of plotty narrative, something or the other happens all the time.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
If your point/reading is that the film ensures it doesn't leave room for any simplistic interpretations of "this happens to this person because...", I do kinda see where you're getting at. (Except things don't happen that randomly either.)
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
on glib philosophizing: if you boil everything down to the final monologue/voice-over narration you could argue that it is glib or unearned though even there I would protest otherwise.
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 14, 2019
To me this idea that despite all the randomness, chaos, amorality, senselessness and suffering, we must still hold back the final judgment on Life, it is not glib at all because the stories actually make you think about it without insisting on it one way or the another.
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 14, 2019
It is very explicit in the Arputham story, but it is there in every other strand of the narrative. Also helpfully explicitly state in that final "porn" monologue...
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 14, 2019
I saw this film as a very sincere and thoughtful aesthetic engagement with amorality and nihilism. That is why I said that comparing it with Tarantino/Pulp Fiction (talk about glibness!) is doing it a disservice.
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 14, 2019
You could actually argue this about his earlier work Aaranya Kandam, but even that now acquires a lot of weight and contextual meaning in the context of "Super Deluxe" if you think of the earlier film as another episode in a bigger narrative.
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 14, 2019
Yes, my arguments are: one, it's simply unearned considering how things play out in the stories. The only story that touches upon randomness is actually the most flippant (and in my view, the most effective) one: the story of the boys. The other stories don't dwell enough on..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
senseless in what comes off as stories with plotty beats, and very comforting ones at that. There isn't a portrait of "what life can give to people after all the suffering" per se. Two, the ideas explored don't actually cohere. Mysskin's questions about the meaning of life and..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
god stand on the one hand while the film spends much of its time exploring how people grapple with sexuality in a very prosaic, day-to-day sense. What can we make of Mugil-Vaembu story for instance? They get along after some "he says, she says" exchange that goes along the lines
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
of "that's all there's to life, isn't it? it's that simple etc." Three (maybe kinda tied to the previous two), I thought the idea that "Life itself is that mystery/joy" was itself glib in the way it was rendered - considering how base and manufactured some of the suffering is..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
(should I say "causal"? :-)), I thought it more or less degenerates (inadvertently or otherwise) just asking people to look at the big picture and take it easy. This is where I think the film inadvertently follows the commonplace line of just surrendering yourself to god.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
Having said all this, I agree with you about the boldness of the film's ending and how captivating it is. I do recall feeling it was a thrilling way to end the film.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
In the boys' narrative, what did you think of the "alien"? Were you thrown off by it? Kumararaja and the writers take a huge risk there and lot depends whether you allow yourself to remain in the story after that episode.
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 14, 2019
Oh that worked for me completely, the story also had a bit of broader dreamlike treatment prior to the twist too. I agree it was a risk but then it works precisely because the film brings the alien as if to 'enlighten' the boys as opposed to bring about some abrupt resolution.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
I even wonder if many people are hung up on the meaning of the alien simply because they think it ought to have done more! (Not condescending but I think the larger Tamil audiences aren't used to a deliberate surreal style unless done with a sleight of hand leading them to it.)
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
That's good to know. I also thought if the film stressed a dream-like, surreal treatment a little more, if it cranked up "Lynchian" aspect of a day gone really weird trope through lighting, set design etc, it would have worked even better
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 14, 2019
True. Like I said, I found the boys' story to be the most effective for this reason. Maybe even the other stories are meant to be like that but at least I didn't receive them that way.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 14, 2019
In my 20s I thought surrendering yourself to God was easy and commonplace thing to do. Now in my 30s I think that surrendering yourself to nihilism is the easier option to take ;) May be in my 40s I will finally regain my lost faith ;)
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 14, 2019
:-) But seriously, I'm sure you'd agree it's not a binary "this or that." And my point of "considering how base and manufactured some of the suffering is" would apply to surrendering in general, whether to god or nihilism. :-) I'd also seriously question if the aloof cool of..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 15, 2019
Kumararaja (let's just say, in his previous film Aaranya Kaandam for us to have a somewhat common ground :-)) has to be accounted for as nihilism proper. There's a great deal of "everyone's liberty to have fun, etc." in the overall stance against moralism as well. I get how you..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 15, 2019
read the film's question about the meaning of life, God in Arputham's story but just clarifying that, in my view, he doesn't come off as either seriously nihilistic or wrestling with nihilism. :-) Anyway, since we're talking about Arputham's story here, I also wanted to join the
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 15, 2019
On "Super Deluxe" I wrote a blog about some thought pointers. Too lazy to write a proper essay or a review https://t.co/VOL6DpO4ws
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 27, 2019
Thanks for sharing your Super Deluxe blog-post, skimmed through some parts a while back. Will read fully. One thing I'd reiterate as my impression about the film is that it is intent on being more meaningful/purposeful as a whole and eschews immediate visceral effects of a tight
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
narrative (a distinction Baradwaj R also made in his review comparing this to Kumararaja's previous film). It is unusual even in the best of Tamil films (while we are at Maanagaram). It's a very offbeat/arthouse cinema sort of move on Kumararaja's part but I didn't think the film
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
succeeded at all venturing into this. Nalan Kumarasamy, one of the co-writers, spoke highly of the level of game Kumararaja is playing and so on. After seeing the film and wondering how exactly the story of the falling man VJS tells in the film's trailer fit into the film's..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
scheme, I recalled how Nalan Kumarasamy's 1st film Soodhu Kavvum in fact has a really thoughtful portrait of 'a man unfazed.' I even toyed with the idea of writing down something arguing Nalan Kumarasamy is in fact the one who played that game exceedingly well in his 1st film. :D
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
Just finished reading it. I agree with pretty much everything you've said here in terms of how one ought to approach art. Not to belabour my case - but where I differ is, I think the film has only a few tantalizing bits that encourages reflection on life, suffering, sexuality.
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
I wrote about some of our differences (I think) on "Super Deluxe" in the third section of the blog post. If something is said in an ironic way, or within a jokey or tongue in cheek context, it doesn't necessary undervalue its seriousness.
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 27, 2019
Oh my issue was not at all about serious stuff said in a jokey or tongue-in-cheek context. But that the ideas don't really cohere. The very reason I was compelled to look for serious meaning in a film that is anything but solemn was because I took all the jokes seriously!
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
That monologue in the trailer is actually a very good example. It can be a joke, it can also be a serious idea about how to live life facing certain death. Both of these meanings can co-exist fine with each other, one doesn't undermine the other.
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 27, 2019
Indeed, I don't think I've questioned that at all. The very film exists on the idea that it can coexist on entirely different planes (and that much was clear even from the trailer), right? My earlire point was about how it resonates well only with the story of the boys. And about
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
the portrait of unfazed, the point was, at a personal level (i.e. not so much an artistic assessment; but then at a deeper level, it is that too, isn't? :-)), I relate far more to a (different) strain of philosophy manifest in Soodhu Kavvum (which btw is as jokey as it gets!).
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
on incoherence, one clue is in the title itself. like a super deluxe bus or a hotel room it is packed with a little too much knick knack. Not everything will fit or cohere together :)
— Alok Ranjan 📚 (@alokranj) April 27, 2019
:-) Well, for me, at least 2 of the stories didn't work on that plane at all, and it also seemed like (don't mean it literally) the film dwelt on them the most. In the 3rd story, Arputham's conundrum itself seemed to occur in the margins while it primarily comes off as a father..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
and a son unable to come to terms with a facet of Leela's sexuality. What happens in these stories make us reflect on the story of the boys who're just trying to watch porn one fine day. This strand worked for me as I mentioned earlier. The doctor's monologue serves to sign off..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
with this reflection. (Just stating all these things as a single train of thought to clarify I'm with you on all this.) But this is where the ideas - let's also add the alien's pronouncements that we are all one, to the mix now! - don't really cohere in any meaningful way with..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
what emerge from the other strands. What's the suffering that makes us reflect on life in the 2 stories that involve Berlin? Except in the sense of good and bad coexisting as Yin and Yang (which I suppose won't qualify as a thought-provoking perspective). Arputham's question on..
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
faith in the face of adversity also seems short-changed in a very prosaic kind of closure. Now that I have said so much, I'll also go out on a limb and say that, the disparate ideas aside, I believe the overarching view the film put forth is how the world is/we are all one, even
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
the bad-good distinctions we make are but different manifestations of the 'whole us', we are all amid the unending chain of life, sexuality is an essential part of it, and so on. (Trying my best to give a fair articulation. :D)
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
And by all this, I also mean to say that I don't see the question and affirmation of "why should we carry forward life despite suffering?" that you see in the film. What I see is an affirmation that "life is a super deluxe bus that has all these disparate things and while they're
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
in and of themselves or as one thing giving way to another, mere occurrences devoid of any larger meaning. But life-at-large itself is the perennial mystery/joy/meaning that drives us."
— equanimus (@equanimus) April 27, 2019
Saturday, January 20, 2018
A 2017 Tamil films' list
மாநகரம்: pitch-perfect is the word. An exercise in style without a false beat. What's most remarkable about the film is it is slick *and* tonally serious. The plot interlocking here is obviously derivative of Guy Ritchie and the like but it's interesting how Lokesh Kanagaraj wants his film to be more serious and gritty that ultimately aligns the work more with the best of contemporary Tamil cinema than any of the tongue-in-cheek/ironic distance that usually characterizes such derivative works and Guy Ritchie's own filmography. The film also decidedly stops short of becoming a truly grim portrait of the urban landscape (for all the violence in the film, nobody dies! incidentally the director has also talked about how this was a conscious choice...) or a deeper exploration of the proverbial "what's the right thing for an individual to do?" à la Mysskin. But there's often a lurking sense of this question and the film cleverly opts to only point to it rather than dwell on it for its own running time. In other words, the entertainment/thrill of the film's yarn relies on the very violence the film means to decry. But I'd argue the film, to its credit, offers a specific (interesting if sketchy) perspective on violence through one of its lead characters (a very effective Sundeep Kishan). This character clearly (as if to mirror the film's own impulse) emerges as the more forceful/compelling figure in the film than the other lead (Sri's casting here seems a nod to his role in ஓநாயும் ஆட்டுக்குட்டியும் playing a character in a somewhat similar helpless good Samaritan role, though that film is otherwise set in a universe of a very different worldview).
குரங்கு பொம்மை: exceptionally well directed film. This is a film of interiors, all of them so well realised and shot, brilliantly demonstrating how cinematic a film can be even when you're not shooting in real exterior locations (the latter is without doubt something many Tamil filmmakers since காதல் have excelled at). All the turns the film takes are not effective (some of them come off as rather prosaic) but even in that respect, I appreciated the film's earnest attempt to imbue its story with a sense of wider meaning (as opposed to solely into being clever in tying its yarn together).
Interesting but have some/quite a few reservations
தீரன்: அதிகாரம் ஒன்று
Does one thing and does it well. H. Vinoth's project is to imagine an action thriller out of a real life criminal case/investigation. The film has it both ways by making us aware of the broader social context in which the crimes/criminals occur (primarily in just 2 animation segments) and at the same time refuses to let that come in the way of fashioning a straightforward police actioner. The Bawaria gang is villainized in very obvious terms but I liked how the film also in some ways undercuts this by acknowledging that they exist outside of the broader system/nation-state that has marginalized them (primarily via dialogue but also in the way the gang is depicted from a distance not fully accessible to us except as demonic eruptions); and more importantly by showing, even if only fleetingly, the colonialist nature of the conflict - in the way it depicts the overall operation as one of a modern well-equipped governmental force encountering a primitive group that is much less equipped but also 'untamed' for that very reason and systematically eliminating them (the return of the repressed, if you will).
அருவி
mishmash of multiple ideas, some work, some don't
8 தோட்டாக்கள்: at its best when it is a gritty urban landscape story, less effective and limited when it becomes something else wherein the Mysskin-esque melodrama/sadness and the Hollywood-friendly "heart of darkness" (à la 1 man's descent into pure darkness) seem awkwardly sandwiched, cutting off each other's effectiveness.
(Acclaimed films) I found quite boring and overrated:
ஒரு கிடாயின் கருணை மனு
துப்பறிவாளன்
அறம்
Monday, January 08, 2018
A quick and rough note on வேலைக்காரன்
The movie does tend to get verbose (and the director very much so in his interviews!) and and adds way more scenarios/incidents by way of plot than it needs - to that extent, it's a film of excess and it'd have been better and tauter if it had dwelt on just 1 narrative strand for more time and kept out some of the other narrative strands. But I liked that the film constantly strives to be imaginative, and when it works, it bristles with ideas both in terms of political imagination and (more importantly) storytelling style.
Some elements/ideas/strands that I found interesting if modest (in some cases, even somewhat confused):
- We'll come to the politics of the film in a bit but I suspect one of the reasons this film is not receiving attention among the critics is because it's seeped in mainstream form and conventions. It's to Mohan Raja's credit that the film never mistakes serious purpose for a need to be dull and long-faced (never mind how the director seems to give himself a short shrift in this regard in interviews where he emphasises more on having a message than telling an interesting story). It strives to fold its purpose in a story arc, in the scenarios it invents, employing squarely mainstream storytelling idioms. The staging is all masala in a way that is first of all refreshing and also at times gives the film an edge/potency. Some moments/arcs that are worth mentioning:
- The dramatic framing of Arivu (Sivakarthikeyan) taking a vow to transition from being a fool on Apr 1 to a worker proper on May 1, for instance, is beautifully done.
- (Some other reviewers have highlighted this scene.) The scene that involves a live commentary of a local gang fight is again mounted with a sense of drama that has become all too rare. Consider the number of things that you learn as the scene progresses. This is when it's also revealed Arivu considers Kasi annan his chief nemesis. Even the visual of every individual appearing as Kasi has a meaning, as that's how Arivu sees the problematic, as not an individual issue but one of the "winning idea."
- The scene in the 2nd half where Aadhi a.k.a. Adhiban Madhav (Fahadh Faasil nicely doing his thing) burns down 2 days of stock the workers have produced. We see Aadhi and Arivu rush to the place but at the site, they slow down having a measured dialogue of sorts as if they are witnessing the immediate proceedings from a distance, the products Arivu and co. have built being wasted on fire and other workers in panic trying to escape the fire and/or save the stock for sale, finding their way out, etc.
- I was more than once reminded of Rajkumar Hirani even if Mohan Raja is never nearly as seamless in pitch as Hirani is, not to forget the latter's wonderful humour. But I'd add here that Hirani's own ideas can sometimes be bloated e.g. in a film like Lage Raho Munnabhai. Incidentally, I think வேலைக்காரன் probably owes a bit to that film in particular. After seeing the film, I realised the FM radio connection of course - it's used as a plot device too in a very similar way - not only for lead characters to reach out to the wider public but also for the principal characters to indirectly have their own conversations in public. But I must add I mean the Hirani influence as a general remark - even the way the film has multiple supporting characters gaining importance in unexpected ways and having their own closures, etc. I particularly liked the visual of Kasi (Prakash Raj), and Kasthuri (Sneha, in a role and segment that's just rushed), the former a local don who served as the hunting dog for his corporate bosses and the latter one of their victims, stranded together and sharing the same pedestal (and yes, in true masala logic, they're in the hospital!), as ultimately victims in their own respects.
- First, the representation of the underclass or working class - I'm sure there were some offensive or insensitive bits (that betray the film's outsider gaze) but it's remarkable how the film squarely privileges the working class as the authentic agents of change. In this film's logic, the well-to-do middle class is thoroughly colonized if not complicit (unwashed masses, as it were!), political change if any has to emerge from the working class. This is refreshing amidst the tiresome spate of movies where we see iconoclasts from educated upper middle class rising to some occasion or the other and invariably recoiling back to their cocoons after blaming "dirty politicians" for everything! At some points, it seems this is even placed as a burden of the working class - the analogy between gangsters who kill for money and worker class in the bottom rung of corporate system begged for a more nuanced portrait, the casual equivalence drawn between the two was a glaring overstep - but it must be said that this is a rare film which privileges the worker class in very interesting ways.
- That brings me to the next point - the onus here is not on the 'moral superiority' of the worker class and the film never degenerates to 'goodness!' i.e. a vague plea from 'a few good people' to an amorphous group (Corporate top rung in this film) to be more humane. This is a trope that even the seemingly political films so easily resort to - the likes of ஜோக்கர் and அறம் come to mind (the former is obviously crafted with care and hits the aesthetic registers a lot more than the latter but I found both of them very blunt in terms of their politics) . The film's hero deploys the very ideas of the system's functioning against itself. But I'm not talking about just that. The very premise of the story arc is based on the assumption that the sociopolitical space is an ever-contingent one with all participating groups bound to it (may I use the word 'interpellated'?) and one open for radical changes. This is exactly what most of the seemingly rousing but ultimately cynical movies miss when they offer little more than a 'berating' of the world we live in (call out politicians or the unwashed masses/people at large for voting them in!). The film keeps the motives of its protagonist simple and targeted and is the first to recognizes that too.
- The film is dead serious about the fast food industry killing all of us. The film is at its weakest when it goes on about the worst ill-effects of consumer economy but I was very surprised by how it leaps from this (a standard-issue film dealing with some corporate misconduct killing off kids, etc.) to rattling off about modes of production and then to the enormous stakes workers have in the functioning of this economy itself and the system at large. I mean, really, weren't the more thoughtful films suggesting 'returning to mother nature' as the answer?
- This is what enables the film to fearlessly (some would say doltishly) go the whole hog from disparate, even divergent, strands of consumer activism and underclass social emancipation to full-blooded communism. I for one was charmed by the rousing 'எழு வேலைக்காரா இன்றே!' at all as the film ends.