Visaranai (Tamil)

This film is somewhere between Kafka and Martin Scorsese. Between the surrealism of a cinematic nightmare and the gritty realism of a harsh beating.

Paandi (Dinesh) is the leader of a band of migrant Tamil workers operating a food stand in the Telugu city of Guntur. Like Joesf K in Franz Kafka's The Trial, he is taken off to prison one morning without knowing any of the accusations made against him.

His friends also turn up there, and they are put through hell. They are beaten and asked to confess without knowing the charges against them. We quickly learn that the police are not interested in finding the real criminals, but "clearing the case", as a "big shot" has been robbed and they need answers fast. The Tamil guys, isolated and with limited Telugu language skills, will have to do.

They escape this predicament, only to find that their rescuer, Inspector Muthuvel (Samuthirakani), is himself a duplicitous government agent looking to use them as pawns in an even more sordid scheme.

The style of this film complements this ghastly scenario, and will leave your stomach feeling uneasy. It's shot in the objective style of a documentary, from the perspective of a clearly observing, emotionally detached 3rd party. The flagrant immorality and constant lies of government officers are shown in the same factual way as the workout routine of a reality TV star. These are normal people, and they are willing to destroy innocents to maintain their positions.

The stark realism of this extremely exploitative behavior demands that the viewer, lost in the trance of the cinematic illusion, continually supply the moral commentary in this nightmare made real. Are these people and these scenarios all that implausible? What would I do as any these characters? How could I resolve this nightmare, or would I merely rationalize it, as most of them seem to choose?

Perhaps this realism stems from the fact that this film is based on the written account of a Tamil auto rickshaw driver, Auto Chandran, who survived two weeks of being coerced into a false confession.

Director Vetrimaaran also does a very admirable job of weaving in small reminders of the background and human context of everybody locked in this madness. Maybe you couldn't answer your sweetheart's call because you were in police custody being driven off to a black site...

The struggle of innocence in desperate circumstances very much reminds me of the De Sica classic Bicycle Theives. In a brutal social context, desperation grows and spreads until everybody is conflicted between their humanity and the orders they must execute with a zombie stoicism. Like in the worst crimes of the 20th century, everybody in the system must diminish their vision and moral compass to preserve the Big Lie until there is nothing left but an indifferent cruelty.

Perhaps this comparison to Bicycle Thieves is fitting in another indirect way, as the film was awarded by the Italian branch of Amnesty International.  It certainly won't get much viewing in America, where we share the corruption but lack the capacity for open discussion of it. I doubt any of these guys will be getting book/movie deals soon...

Final Word: Good luck having faith in humanity after this one...

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Bangalore Days/Bangalore Naatkal (Malayalam/Tamil)

Note: "Banglore Naatkal" is a remake of the original "Banglore Days". Why remake "Banglore Days" after just a year? Well, Naatkal is in Tamil, while Days was in Malayalam. So you can consider this more of an adaptation rather than a true remake. From what I can tell, the plot is basically identical, and even the styles/shots are very familiar. 

The consensus view seems to be that the Malayalam original was better, but whatever. This isn't about the finer points of style, but rather the substance both share, and Naatkal is the one I saw. 

This one is really enjoyable, because it exhibits an appealing demographic very lacking today in America: normal, happy young adult professionals. Optimistic, fun people ready to get on with life. No social media neurosis. No original sin of student loan debt. No "active shooter" office drills. The "old normal". 

"Banglore" treats us to a charming coming-of-age in modernity tale. It's kind of like a more cinematic form of Friends, if the characters on Friends were actually friends instead of miserable codependent narcissists. 

The plot isn't all that important, though it does contain a pretty deft twist. But overall, this isn't really a feature film in the American sense of the term. It's a bit more of an episodic view into the lives of three close cousins, Divya 'Ammu' Raghavan (Sri Divya), Kannan 'Kutty' (Bobby Simha) and Arjun 'Ajju' (Arya). 

The three grew up in a provincial village, where they dreamed of a future life in Banglore, a "trending" city among Indian youth thanks to its IT scene and beautiful gardens. When they finally get there, they learn that their innocent dreams may have been somewhat simplistic, as they find themselves conflicted. Divya is in an unhappy arranged marriage, Kutty struggles to reconcile his traditionalist upbringing with urban morals, and Ajju remains a steadfast dropout, refusing to adopt a professional career or marriage. 

To resolve their problems, the pretense of city life must yield to the closer bonds they once knew, rekindling the passion with which they set out for Bangalore and creating an ad hoc family capable of overcoming their urban isolation. 

There's a lot in here particularly familiar to American Millenials, as the cousins are in conflict with unrealistic generational expectations. The dropout Ajju in particular rails against the soft tyranny of parental questions:

'What are you going to do with your life?' 'When are you going to marry her?' 'When will you find a job?' 'How long since your last promotion?' 'When is she going to get pregnant?' 'What school are the kids attending?' It goes on and on, and you will never escape expectations.

The solution? Never abandon the organic relations of blood and community for the abstractions of status and office. If there is anything so great about the proverbial move to Bangalore, you shouldn't have to sell your soul for it.

PS: This film also has a subplot involving a romance that begins on-air during a radio talk-show. We haven't been treated to such an innocent, charming plot-line in America since 1993, and Sleepless in Seattle. The 90s are now elsewhere. 

Final Word: Yuppie, there is a better way...

Banglore Naatkal

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Banglore Days

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Hymn For The Weekend (English)

Perhaps you can't be bothered to see a real Bollywood film. Thankfully, esteemed artists and spiritualists Coldplay and Beyonce have teamed up to make an ersatz American replica of a Bollywood music video.

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Maybe you missed the refrain to this profound Vedic meditation — Hymn For The Weekend:

I, oh, I, oh. Got me feeling drunk and high, so high, so high. I, oh, I, oh, I, oh. Now I'm feeling drunk and high. So high, so high. Woo!

Right. Because, to an American audience, the lovely artistry and joyous expression of Indian dance and music can only make sense if associated with some kind of substance abuse.

You could try explaining that these dances and this aesthetic are fundamentally spiritual in their origin, but probably better not to bring it up, lest a Fox News viewer ask if Hindus are a part of ISIS as well.

Even more strange — these Hindus produce art for a purpose. Dancing, music, and culture serve to unify the society into a harmonious unit by expressing common ideals and emotions. People would still get together and produce music even if it had no professional component or marketing.

On the other hand, the world would never have to suffer through another Coldplay video if big money wasn't changing hands. It's a purely financial phenomenon. You are intended to buy this, then go listen to it alone on your Beats by Dre headphones.

But what else could you be listening to?

Compare:

An actual Bollywood music video, from Tamasha. Note that this was actually filmed in Corsica, and that we don't see much traditional Indian dress here. Clearly, there is something deeper going on than just a superficial kind of appearance.

Maybe it has something to do with dance and celebration seeming natural here, and the participants actually seeming alive. Their bodies, faces, and song tell a story we can understand without translation, whereas Beyonce simply has her face sit on a movie screen, as if her likeness alone is some kind of inert icon with inherent meaning.

Final Word: Why would you bother with the "art" of a society that has substituted cult status for meaning and emotion...?

Rajini Murugan (Tamil)

There isn't too much in this film that will challenge you. It's a fairly archetypal story of lovers separated by feuding families, a Tamil rendition of the Capulets and Montagues. But despite the somewhat formulaic plot, this is still worthwhile cinema for an American viewer, if for no other reason than that it can serve as a very archetypal example of the Bollywood aesthetic. The themes are a good introduction to the Indian context, and the wonderful colors, dancing, and general festive playfulness introduce the viewer to a joyous mentality no longer found in the West.

From the first song, we enjoy a splendid celebration of Rajini Murugan (Sivakarthikeyan), an unapologetic loafer. Rajini "has no worries, because he is a king without a crown". He's numero uno, and we're all going to hear him sing his own name as a refrain. He's also got a crew, and they all agree: Rajini Murugan is one special guy.

The closest we get to this kind of unabashed self-promotion in the states is somebody like Donald Trump, but he gets away with it because he has money. The idea of unemployment as a species of nobility may just turn your American values upside down, and maybe you should stay home and focus on updating your more understated LinkedIn profile.

Of course, Rajini has siblings, aunts, and uncles who all left for greener pastures. They cannot be bothered with India, teaching their kids Tamil, and the state of family affairs, as they now live in places like London and California. Big deal.

So, it falls to the family failure Rajini to care for his aging grandfather Ayyankalai (Rajkiran) and manage the sale of his estate in his old age. This is made all the more urgent by his need to prove himself to Karthika Devi (Keerthy Suresh), his ideal girl, who, following her father's opinion, has spurned him as an unsuitable marriage prospect.

This is not to say that Rajini can't be a shining Western success. He actually manages to start a few businesses, including a tech firm that doesn't seem to do anything, but does hire massive numbers of people and receives incredible foreign investment. For a time, our Tamil hero walks around with an Apple laptop and styles himself as a hiring manager. Somehow, it seems plausible that he may just wind up rich it spite of himself, that by refusing to learn a work ethic he's actually perfectly qualified to play boss. Such is the karma of late capitalism.

But alas, it is not to be, as local capo Ezhrai Mookan (Samuthirakani) starts to shake down his business as well as the estate of his grandfather, Ayyankalai. Now the old virtues are needed, the forbearance, strength, and dignity of a man and not the pretense of careerist. Can Rajini Murugan the slacker become a true hero? Perhaps, perhaps not, but at least heroism and defense of his own community is still plausible for this loyal native son.

PS: The Tamil people are quite fascinating, and have some of the most ancient customs in all of India. Do learn more. The resilience of their traditions, as evidenced by the theme of this film, is enough to warrant a large degree of respect. 

Final Word: The true king refuses the crown...

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Bajirao Mastani (Hindi)

This film can help you bring back the 90s. 

Perhaps you recall with some degree of fondness the embrace of epic in Hollywood's last decade of the millennium. You went and saw war dramas like Braveheart, and tragic romances like Titanic. Greatness still seemed a bit more tangible, a bit more reachable. 

Bajirao Mastani brings back this style of film-making. Expressing a natural patriotism, the film tells the story of Bajirao I (Ranveer Singh), a celebrated Indian general who helped to unify the Hindu peoples in the Maratha Empire, ending Muslim Mughal rule in the 18th century. 

Yet despite his service and excellence, Bajirao comes into confrontation with his society when takes Mastani (Deepika Padukone), the daughter of an allied Persian-Muslim faction, as his second wife.  His family and the Brahmin class refuse to accept her as a wife, and unscrupulously do everything in their power to ruin the mighty couple. 

This film is remarkable for how it manages to transcend mere political polemics and stakes out a truly majestic vision of heroism and virtue. Bajirao, a brave and heroic national figure, is idealized without apology, portrayed with a form of admiration we have forgotten in the self-loathing West. Yet this isn't mere self-congratulation. The society, its religion, and its caste system are severely criticized as regressive and even malevolent. In this film, we see both a national hero and national ignominy on open display. 

Americans are decidedly incapable of making such subtle distinctions in their own viewpoints and thought processes. Here, you are either critical of the nation and all its traditions (a capital L Liberal), or you accept them all without reservation and believe that George Washington never told a lie. 

This is why we don't see films like this in the United States anymore. The idea of a hero could only serve to promote some kind of political agenda, which will enrage a large portion of the personally offended populace. Nobody can distinguish between abstract, eternal virtuous qualities and what's currently trending on Twitter, so it's better to avoid the problem of heroic qualities, and keep making movies with Kevin James. 

Meanwhile, in India, which shares a border with Pakistan, they can and do make a film about a Hindu prince and his love of a half-Muslim princess. Surely, this film offended many people.

But that's alright, because no culture or country paralyzed at the thought of offending people can still be called worthy of epic.

Final Word: Unapologetic, Heroic, Majestic...

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Soggade Chinni Nayana (Telugu)

Be careful. This one may just blow your mind.

First off, please don't come to the theater with any narrow American conceptions of genre. I have given it much thought, and I have no clue what to call this film. Somebody at Wikipedia called it a "supernatural family drama film". Good enough for me, but it's probably best to not even try.

Better to just lay down the facts: Bangaru Raju (Akkineni Nagarjuna) was an aristocrat and landowner in a village called Sivapuram. He died in a suspicious accident, and perhaps justly, for while living, he brought nothing but grief to his poor wife Satya (Ramya Krishnan).

Bangaru Raju, you see, is a player. A seduction king. A kind of Hindu demi-god gifted with a preternatural ability to drive women absolutely crazy. I'm talking better than Leonardo DiCaprio. He's so good, his insulted widow still keeps an almost life-size portrait of him in their marital chamber. Forget the cover of People magazine. Bangaru Raju deserves a shrine.

But love has grown cold in the next generation. Disgraced by Bangaru Raju's philandering ways, she raises their son, Dr. Ram Mohan (also Akkineni Nagarjuna), to become the precise opposite of a Hindu seduction god. Instead, he is bound to become a doctor in the United States. Sounds about right.

With such a lifestyle, Ram has, of course, an utterly loveless marriage to his wife Sita (Lavanya Tripathi), who has come back to India with him to tell Satya and the family that they are to be divorced.

At this point, Sita prays to her Bangaru Raju shrine. Though a "top 5 doctor in the USA", Ram must now learn relearn the basic masculine bearing his Western lifestyle has taken away.

Thankfully, the Hindu god of the underworld, Yama (Nagendra Babu), intercedes, and is willing to allow the spirit of Bangaru Raju to return to the land of the living and inhabit the body of his son. In his time on earth, he will attempt to resolve his son's marital woes, as well as better understand the circumstances of his mysterious death.

If you've made it this far and accepted such a totally uninhibited, outlandish premise, you would probably enjoy Soggade.  Overall, the film is essentially comedic, with hilarious cases of mistaken identity between Bangaru Raju and Ram. However, this doesn't exclude serious conflict, and the comedy also contributes to a serious commentary.

Beneath the laughter, we see what happens to people when they become Americans. In one generation, they lose their innate attractiveness, their very sense of what it means to be a man (or a woman). They lose the very blood in their veins and their capacity for enjoyment, instead finding all their meaning in the new god of Work. They can't solve their problems, and can't even love their wives. Their answer to all of life's questions: "I'll Google it!" (See 0.30 in the trailer below.)

Granted, Ram is a top surgeon, and he is not considered entirely pathetic. But the wide scope and immersive quality of this film captures us in its world of fantasy, where it's still much cooler to be a man than a professional.

Final Word: Kulturkampf as outlandish farce...

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Wazir (Hindi)

A game is a game is a game

This is the ominous refrain of chess master Pandit Dhar (Amitabh Bachchan) in Wazir, a tense terrorist drama not dissimilar from American shows like 24. Daanish Ali (Farhan Akhater), a counter-terrorism agent, loses his daughter in a shootout with terrorist suspects from the hotly disputed Kashmir region. In despair, a series of events leads him to Pandit, a kindly old retiree who now runs children's chess programs. Pandit confides in him that the has also lost his daughter, and that though the death was officially ruled an accident, he suspects political intrigue on the part of Welfare Minister Yazaad Qureshi (Manav Kaul).

As the team of Pandit and Daanish comes closer to unveiling the nexus of corruption and personal animosity behind the deaths, a mysterious henchman (Neil Nitin Mukesh) code-named Wazir (the Hindi word for the queen chess piece) starts to harass Pandit. Where is he coming from, and how does he fit in this chess puzzle of alliance, betrayal, and grand strategy?

Overall, there is little in the concept of this film which will be too foreign to an American audience. Indeed, "terrorist thriller" is pretty much the national genre at this point. Yet the idea of chess as a metaphor in a violent confrontation is something you likely won't see in Hollywood. Rather than waterboard the bad guys into submission, in Wazir we are treated to a more mental approach to such problems, more of a Sherlock Holmes for the 21st century than a Jack Bauer.

Final Word: An intelligent if familiar thriller...

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