THAT TOUCH… THAT DIRECTOR’S TOUCH
MAR 16, 2008 – JUST A COUPLE OF WEEKS AGO, IN THIS COLUMN, I’d gone on about how we – the film audiences in the country – do not have the stomach for self-indulgence, and now here’s Anjaathey, which appears to be some sort of hit across Tamil Nadu despite the extreme indulgences of its director Mysskin (and despite the antagonist sporting the most terrifying instance of on-screen hair since the heydays of Sudhakar). And I couldn’t be more thrilled. Mysskin stacks his film with so many “director’s touches,” he practically pulls you out of the narrative at times – but then, that’s what these “director’s touches” do. They’re these little self-indulgent flourishes that exclaim to us, “Boss, this is a very fertile imagination at work.” K Balachander built an entire career on these touches, and the one that comes to mind now is from Sindhu Bhairavi, where the passage of time in Suhasini’s life is depicted through the weekly periodicals being slipped under her door. You’re missing the point if you drew back and wondered: “But why on God’s good earth does she need to buy Kumudham and Kungumam and Anandha Vikatan? Couldn’t she subscribe to just one of these magazines and get the rest from a circulating library?” What’s important is that the director has worked out an interesting way to say what he wants to say. (Imagine how much more boring the same scene would have been had we seen a tired old cardboard calendar, its distended belly of date sheets being ripped off one by one.)
In Anjaathey, Mysskin opens an action sequence – something that could have been just another set piece with fist-pounding fight choreography – with nothing but stillness and an expanse of sky; the frame is held as people enter and exit, which is to say that instead of the usual practice of the restless camera following the characters, the characters show themselves only when they wander into the gaze of a fixed camera. Much later, the director shows a bad guy being shot to death, and then complicates our emotions by having this villain’s young son struggle to reach his father through the obstacle course of a couple of policemen, whose swaying efforts to block the child assume the proportions of some sort of surreal, macabre dance. And in what is possibly the showiest – and therefore, most self-indulgent – piece of filmmaking I’ve seen in years, Mysskin shoots an entire sequence with the camera just a little above floor-level. We see feet scurrying about, we see objects – a bag, a door, a chair, a mirror – and we see the payoff to the shot when the villain does something unspeakably vile while on all fours. With all this, did I tell you there’s a character whose face is never seen, who’s always shot from behind his bald head? Or that, in another scene where the protagonist is simply seen walking, his impending journey from badness to goodness, from darkness to light, is prefigured by the illumination on the roads – the path he’s ambling along is lit by the forbidding blue of the moon, and his destination is bathed by the warm yellow of streetlights.
As filmmaking choices, each of these is intended to remind you of a trip to the doctor’s office: you’re meant to open your mouth and say, “Ah!” Anjaathey is a director’s movie in the truest sense of the word (a rare species not just in mainstream Tamil cinema but in mainstream Indian cinema), and that’s why I was willing to overlook quite a bit – the fact, for instance, that this director does not know when to quit (rather, to quit gracefully while he’s ahead). He whips up a tremendous sequence where the protagonist – now a policeman – stumbles upon a man on the street who’s drawing his last breaths. An auto-rickshaw passes by, and another – and these won’t stop to help. Just as you’re expecting a third auto to snake into the scenario, so that our hero can haul its driver up by the collar and deliver an or-else ultimatum, an old lady – a seller of flowers – walks in and offers her support. She sits behind the hero on his motorcycle, the two of them making a bloody sandwich of the wounded man in between, but before they can reach anywhere, the victim dies. You think the point has been made – about the arbitrariness of life, which doesn’t always translate good intentions into good endings, or the hero’s realisation that he cannot save everyone (one of the film’s biggest achievements is that so much of it is so starkly open-ended, the director resolutely refusing to fill in the blanks) – but Mysskin brings things to a dreadfully sentimental close by having the old lady sprinkle flowers at the spot the victim had lain but a few minutes ago.
Another miscalculation of a death scene involves a bullet through the heart of a man wearing a T-shirt with the picture of a dove. And elsewhere, in a standout instance of a bad masala-movie gimmick, a villain is introduced by performing a handshake on himself (because the man he extends a hand to won’t respond in kind). And there’s a terrible bit of business about the depth of friendship being demonstrated through the gift of a ring. And yet, and yet – when you note that the hero is almost incidental to the proceedings, that he’s simply a part of the larger scheme of things (in not just the screenplay, but as if in life), or when you see that there’s no love angle to speak of, and that the director’s eccentricity assumes amusing proportions in the placement of the love duet (it’s as if he said, “You heathens want a duet? Here’s one, popping out of nowhere. Now don’t you dare complain that it’s not been worked into the screenplay.”), it’s hard not to come away impressed by the overall achievement. Mysskin’s self-indulgence extends even to the length of individual sequences – and, in turn, to the length of his film. It goes on and on – and yet, you’re rivetted with what could have been just another saga of friendship, just another thriller about cops-versus-kidnappers, just another tale of a son redeeming himself in his father’s eyes. Anjaathey is all of the above and yet none of the above. It’s hard to pin down whether this is great filmmaking or not, but it’s certainly interesting filmmaking, and if box-office reports are to be believed, Mysskin has ended up with the Holy Grail of moviemakers: he’s made something that he wants to make, and that’s turned out to be something that we want to see.
Copyright ©2008 The New Sunday Express. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Sagarika
March 16, 2008
brangan: The writeup pretty much echoes what I felt watching this on DVD (on my laptop) recently (except I didn’t ascribe certain things to what you so rightly call “the director’s touch,” as I didn’t know to).
SPOILER ALERT: Speaking of “…we see the payoff to the shot when the villain does something unspeakably vile while on all fours” – the prelude to that shot completely threw me off (remember, I was watching it on a small-screen laptop)! The gullible me was going “no, it can’t be…are they actually showing “that”…how come?” etc. And thanks to the rewind button I took a closer look and even then, it was a few (yes, I was holding my breath) seconds of deliberate pausing and looking to identify “that” as an innocuous (yeah, right!) “shot from behind [the faceless guy’s] bald head.” That was a phew and wow, at once…Director’s touch all right! 🙂
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brangan
March 16, 2008
Absolute find of the day: a deleted song from Aboorva Sagotharargal What’s interesting is that kamal’s mom doesn’t seem to be Manorama, though Thotta Tharani’s sets seem to be the same. This was a find because the only song that I thought was deleted was the one that went Aadi pattam, which was in the cassettes at the time.
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Shankar
March 16, 2008
That is an incredible find…never knew of its existence at all. I guess someone dug deep into the Rajkamal archives and came up with this gem!! Awesome 🙂
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Zero
March 17, 2008
Superb write-up, Baradwaj. It seems my experience watching this film was much close to that of yours. Especially, the point about the director not knowing where to stop. That’s exactly what I was thinking about when watching some of the sequences that Mysskin stages in the film. Often we see Mysskin simply halt the proceedings (like how the “entire” film just stops and watches Sappai die) and stage a sequence or the transformational arc of a character, often taking on mythical proportions.
Mysskin’s language is so uncontemporary and un-Hollywoodish, it’s almost like there’s no place for naturalism in it, and more often that not, this is all much refreshing. (Never mind that it comes off as tepid or downright silly otherwise.) It is all so oddball that it comes off as a singular mix of artistic audacity and, well, quite a bit amateurishness.
[Spoiler alert]
And, of course, the wonderful sequence (also, the singularly outstanding sequence in the film, IMO) where he tries to save an assaulted man on the road. I think it’s so well done that it’ll be a scene hard to cap this whole year. I’d also bracket the prelude scene when he gets drunk with the man who gets beaten up in the police station that day. The construction and the staging of this sequence is just superb and organic to the film. (The old lady’s strewing of flowers was of course a sentimental way to close off the sequence, but it didn’t strike a wrong note with me.)
[Spoiler ends]
And, thanks so much for the Aboorva Sagodharargal video. Great find indeed. This was the song that didn’t make it to the final cut as even the story was changed later on. And, by the way, “Aadi Pattam” was from MMKR, not Aboorva Sagodharargal.
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hari
March 17, 2008
Yes, it sure was an interesting watch. Your review made it all the more worthwhile.
But somehow I thought Naren could have done a bit more better in some of the emotional scenes. And Ajmal in some of the earlier scenes in the movie.
I liked Mysskin’s earlier work as well. And I felt that Naren’s role in this was a continuation to that role, where he would just go on doing his duty just to raise up when the situation arises.
Spoiler Alert:
Some of the directorial touches were classic indeed. Especially the poultry truck and the the itching sensation scene.
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Kumar
March 17, 2008
Thanks for the great find! I just wish we could get the uncensored version of “Hey Ram” and “Virumandi”
BTW, wasn’t “Aadi pattam” in Ponnumani?
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bart
March 17, 2008
A very fine and interesting review of the tamil movie that I liked sofar this year.
Even that one-handed friend character, though weird, was interesting to the end.
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Priti
March 17, 2008
did u watch vellithirai? it did absolutely nothing to me, though some of the lines are kickass… what do u think of the movie? can’t believe people r raving about it!
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Balaji
March 17, 2008
Baradwaj, excellent write-up as always. for me, what elevates a scene being simply a self-indulgent gimmick to a director’s touch is the value of that scene; the part it plays in the big picture. like those periodicals in SB were actually used to convey the passage of time. so in ‘anjaathey’, the scene with the camera at floor-level was superb because of that payoff u mention. but the touch of never showing the villain’s face felt more of a gimmick since it contributed nothing to the movie. but ofcourse, as i said in my review, “amidst movies where the camera – and the director’s vision itself – is static, even such gimmicks are welcome” 🙂
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brangan
March 17, 2008
Sagarika: I’m quite surprised this film is available on DVD already over there. It’s usually only the big-star films that make it.
Shankar: I knew you’d be jumping 🙂 I mean, an AS music video that never made it to screen. Wow!
Zero: Of course it’s MMKR 🙂 And I loved what you said about “singular mix of artistic audacity and, well, quite a bit amateurishness.” That’s exactly it. I couldn’t believe it when a director who’s done all these interesting things has the friend-gone-bad character step in slush and say — when his sister asks him what she should tell their father when he asks about his son — “Sethula erangittaan-nu sollu.” I thought these dialogues had been banned after the Sivaji era 🙂
hari: Actually, none of the performances registered. Well, maybe Pandiarajan’s…
Kumar: But there’s a Marudhanayagam trailer floating around on YouTube. You’ve seen that right?
bart: Yeah, that characater really worked. Especially when he rotates that arm in slo-mo in the bar song… It was borderline surreal.
Priti: Haven’t seen vellithirai…
Balaji: What you say at the end is right – compared to the swill these days, this is something else…
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Vijay
March 17, 2008
That Aboorva sagodharargaL song was just average. Good decision by Kamal to leave that out and include Aannathey aadurar and Raja Kayya vecha instead. But still made for a good watch for sheer nostalgic purposes.
Apart from Aadi pattam, MMKR also had Mathapoovu oru penna aagadha by Chithra left out. That was a decent song as well.
Brangan, if you wanted to write about self-indulgence you could have started off with Thamizh MA. Sometimes I wonder whether amidst the flurry of bad Hindi movies that your profession demands you to watch, you miss out on Tamil films like these. And unlike Anjaadhey, Thamizh MA was not a hit.
Regarding Anjaadhey I have not seen the film yet but unfortunately the few highlights that I saw of it on TV depicted the amateurish side of the director more than his touches. I saw a pathetic scene where some masked goons walk upto Naren one by one and get bashed up. I can only hope that the prelude to that scene demanded such a treatment, otherwise it was straight out of a Vijaykanth movie. Also Naren’s acting in some scenes was terrible.
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Kiran
March 17, 2008
Can’t believe people are raving about this movie. I guess that statement alone will be putting off people from reading the entire comment.
I do not think there is a director’s touch to the entire film as such. They all seem like someone else wanted to add his touch to a bunch of various scenes. The ideas seem borrowed from someplace else.
The movie is so full of cliches where each scene is predictable. Take the scene for example where the hero is having his dinner. The moment we see that shot, we know that he is going to get up without eating anything.
Also the one handed friend (who apparently can only talk in an accusatory shrill monotone) waving his stump for all to see. Yeah Yeah, we know you have a character with one hand. You dont have to wave it all over the screen. Again, no value add by including the character. (I can see the reply to this, “See he made you uncomfortable by including characters you dont usually see”)
And what’s with the whole walking thing? Why does everyone have to walk as if they are in a hurry to reach the bathroom and releive themselves? Scene after scene, you get people who walk away fast and then come back and more often than not slap the other person. Director’s touch? Bah!!
The movie could easily be shorter by an hour and lose nothing.
I would say that it was a completely pretentious movie.
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brangan
March 17, 2008
Vijay: I’ve heard it just once, so I’m reserving the “average” verdict — though I thought I caught something interesting in the structure. And it’s not just the compulsion to see every single Hindi/English release (for reviews). It’s also the fact that none of the Tamil releases are out on good DVDs, so if something bombs and you’ve missed it, you can’t even catch up.
Kiran: Hav eyou read outright raves? Most of what I’ve read are along the lines of what I’ve written… “The ideas seem borrowed from someplace else.” Care to explain? Thanks. “The movie could easily be shorter by an hour and lose nothing…” except its eccentricity, perhaps.
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Gaipajama
March 17, 2008
“…he’s made something that he wants to make, and that’s turned out to be something that we want to see…”
I thought Bala was the authority on that.
Haven’t seen the movie yet, but having read your piece, I think I will go watch it.
Btw, are you going to review Michael Clayton? Would love to read your take. It was good to see some non-scenery-chewing acting win an oscar for a change.
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APALA
March 17, 2008
Dear BRangan:
Excellent article as usual!! I think Mysskin has great roads ahead!!
About that DELETED song from Apoorva Sagotharargal – During the 150-th day of the movie (I watched it in Archana theaters Coimbatore for the n-th time!!), Kamal added this song and few scenes (featuring Appu) before the interval like an interview! He said the storyline was completely redone and the film was re-shot leaving these footages unusable!! But thanks for giving the link for that song!! It’s entertaining!!
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Prasanna
March 17, 2008
Hi,your views & reviews create that “i’d thought of exactly that” feeling in the reader’s mind,and your felicity with words is amazing!Been a regular reader of yours since thew Bby Jayashree’s interview (by the way,long time since u interviewed someone?!)
Just as I read this post,I thought if successful commercial film-making today has come down to telling the tried & tested things in a new ways?is it all about screenplay,than about story??is form over-riding content???
I’d like to hear your take.
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Deepauk M
March 17, 2008
Anjadhey: Mysskin has said in some interviews that the script was written out of frustration and anger that his “Nandhalala” (apparently Ilaiyaraja recorded songs too – there’s some good music we wont get to hear) didn’t get made. The movie left me feeling that Mysskin is a melodramatist making a conscious effort to reign himself in, but at some points the cracks show through (especially the “sethu-la erangittaan” scene). The movie could’ve done without the songs, but I must admit I liked the line about “bodhai” being akin to socialism – the line brought a smile to my face.
Aboorva Sagodharargal: Many thanks to you and Jayacool, whoever he may be. Very coincidental, since I found myself contemplating the meaning of the openign shots of the movie, where the lone duck waddles along a small ridgeway to join the rest of the flock and then a crying baby is picked up by its grandmother. In the video you get to see Chinni Jayanth dancing as part of the friends circle. He was probably replaced by Mayilsamy (who I personally feel has one of the best lines in the movie – “Annan Banian size 42”). Kamal has been promising a series called “Appuvin Ragasiyam” for a while. I think it would be a good documentary excercise, I’m sure Raajkamal has some brilliant footage that could be used. I also believe that the name of the actor playing Kamal’s mother is Kanthimathi-of “en aatha aadu valarthaa kozhi valarthaa” fame.
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karthik
March 18, 2008
Awesome piece and find (AS), i liked the invoking of the Director’s touch and Myskings imprints are firmly etched all over the film. I hope your last line does act as a stimulant for film makers that are destroying tamil cinema in the name of commercialization instead of sticking to their innate storytelling capabilities and weaving a story worth sharing.
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bart
March 18, 2008
The find was something I’ve heard before but am seeing it for the first time. When I downloaded AS songs from net (mp3), I got this song too. I thought this is another one of those songs, that didn’t make the final cut. But the fact is that the set of characters played in the song themselves did not make the final cut as it was 🙂 Interesting.
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brangan
March 18, 2008
Vijay: Okay, I think I nailed down what I found interesting about the song. It’s a standard 8-count rhythm structure, but the opening two lines last 12 counts each, and the last two lines that end the stanzas are spread out over 10 counts. This makes for perceived imbalance in the rhythm, which is quite unusual for IR, who usually doesn’t deviate much on a *rhythm* basis.
Gaipajama: Don’t know about Clayton. Missed the review deadline, so maybe in a column…
APALA: Thanks for that info. I don’t recall that ever happening in Chennai. This is the first time I’m hearing (of) this song.
Prasanna: I think new ways of saying things can also be “content”, because they make you see the old things in new ways. Besides, the stories that can work commercially have mostly been told already — so where else do you differentiate your film if not in the screenplay?
Deepauk M: That girl in the Kathaazha kannaala song, Snigdha – I read that she was signed by Mysskin for Nandalala. But that got delayed and he roped her in for this item song instead (and a damn good one, by the way). I love the bar song too – the tune, the choreography — everything works. And about the opening shot of AS, the duck and the baby are just signs of the idyll that’s going to be rudely disturbed by the jeep that crashes through the hut. Calm before the storm and all that…
karthik: oh, but I think we’ll have to wait a while before something causes a similar buzz. Naan Kadavul, perhaps? 🙂
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Suchi
March 19, 2008
[OFF-TOPIC] I don’t watch too many recent movies (only see what screens at a theatre nearby or on TV) but I love reading your reviews. Gosh you write so well!
In your piece about Sujatha, you talk about the Western sensibility he brings. I’ve always felt you bring a very Indian sensibility to a rather Western tradition of reviews. That I like!
If I have one bone to pick, it’s about a certain mush-factor when describing the beauty of the actors (Jodhaa Akbar is one example!).
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brangan
March 19, 2008
Suchi: Thank you. And about the bone being picked, I’ll take the closing line from Some Like It Hot: “Nobody’s perfect” 🙂
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Ramsu
March 23, 2008
Baradwaj,
Your point about the director’s unwillingness to quit while he’s ahead is quite valid. If all it did was dim the effectiveness threshold, I wouldn’t have minded so much. But in some cases, it makes one feel genuinely uncomfortable.
The scene with the mirror, for instance. It goes on for at least thirty seconds after it’s made its point.
Or the scene on how the crime branch guys deal with the villain in the end. It is a well-intentioned scene, and works on multiple levels. Trouble is, again, it’s just a little slower, a little longer than necessary. It gets to the point where it feels almost fetishistic.
Also, it’s the unevenness of the movie that gets to me. There are moments that feel realistic, then they get marred by something very staged and obviously intended for dramatic effect. It’s like watching a film made by someone with multiple personality disorder.
~r
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brangan
March 23, 2008
Ramsu: As Zero said, this *is* a mix of artistic audacity and amateurishness. Except that depite it all, I found it an interesting watch. Oh, and enjoyed your “rant” 🙂
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raj
March 25, 2008
br, an interview with Mysskin(whats with the 2 s-es) here
http://www.rediff.com/movies/2008/mar/24ssmys.htm
Interesting to read:
A couple of points he made garnered my attention:
1. There are elements there in Anjathe like a fight and a song which I did for the producer. I agreed because I didn’t want to miss the chance of making Anjathe because of those two things. They wanted a replica of the song Vaazha Meenukkum. So, I thought what should I do? I decided to cut down the erotic parts in the song and shoot the song. Yes, I was not happy with a few things. Making a film is like waging war!
2. Exactly. I let the characters take the course they wanted to. I, the creator became a pawn in their hands. They took me in a direction they wanted to go. In the case of Nanda Lala too, the characters decided what they wanted to do. As a writer, I had no desire to control my characters. I just let them move in life
1 sounds genuine to me and 2 sounds more like a general-look-i-am-different-and-so-clever or thanks-for-the-cue-let-me-yap-something-that-makes-me-sound-like-a-genius kind of claim.
Some here felt that the fight scene was amateur and brought the film down by several notches and in contrast to the other parts. Now, isnt this the problem with TF. Producres would much rather have a amatuer fight scene than not have it at all? It is easy to say he should not have compromised his vision and addded them for name sake. but if you are a filmmaker who has been rejected by several production houses and you find a producer who is willing to take your script on with just these minor compromises, what do you do really?
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brangan
March 25, 2008
raj: It’s not a problem that these elements exist. But they have to be treated well, right? If it were a well-choreographed fight sequence, you’d at least have entertainment value, even if it wsn’t needed. But if it’s as it is here — as Vijay puts it: “straight out of a Vijaykanth movie” — then it becomes laughable. So to address your point, the problem isn’t with these “minor compromises” but in them being handled well.
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raj
March 26, 2008
br, no thats not the point I was trying to address. I understand your POV. But the thing is he did it with a *disinterested* mind. His mind is not in the fight sequence. It is there because the producer wanted it. Now, it may well have been outsourced to the ‘thrills’ master. I am not saying thats right. But that is understandable. If your editorial team wants you to write an article on a topic not so familiar to you or you are passionate about it, you might do it but you wouldnt give up your job, which you love because you dont want to write that article.And that one would not be of the same quality as the rest of your stuff because your heart’s not in it. The analogy is vague because your editor is not going to say “Write this *adulatory* article on Vijaykanth or you are fired”. But if you faced this situation with a few newspapers continuosuly, what would you do? Just fight for your ideals and go starving and go without a medium to express yourself or take a compromise route, give the editor what he wants, albeit without interest and quality, and get on with your job and show your real talent in that.
Actually, everyone does it in their professional life. (I suppose even Vijay would be making his own compromises on his output at some point somewhere though looking at all his writing over the net, you would think he is bharathiyar reincarnated, suffering in penury for his ideals. )I dont think thats wrong. I think given that these guys struggle hard to bring their vision on screen, we should give them that much leeway. If tamil industry had a setup like current bollywood, there is scope for directors to express themselves freely without having to shoot stuff that they are not interested in. But it doesnt and we have to make do with this.
Like I said, the producer of this film would be congratulating himself for having the foresight to force the fight and dance in the movie, and would probably be going around telling “seee, thats what I bring to the table with my experience in this field. It is the fight and the dance that has made this movie a hit.”
Does a director become lesser because he cannot shoot ‘entertaining’ fight scenes? Fight scenes are artificial anyway. If a Police Officer has to fight several goons in an hospital like in this movie, he would most likely come out in a mortuary van. Whatever way it is shot, showing a police office single hadndedly disposing off several goons is artificial anyway? So, how does it matter if it is shot?
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Gaipajama
March 27, 2008
BR,
If it weren’t for your article I would have missed this movie.
Like you said, almost each frame is filled with the “director’s touch”. The composition, framing and editing were just out of this world. As mentioned in his interview, the Kurosawa influence is obvious in scenes like Narain’s first day on the job where he is sitting on chair with his back to us right in the middle of the frame. The camera racks focus between the two “parts” of the split frame, to show us the action. Right out of the Kurosawa playbook.
As for the amateurish fight scene, maybe it is Mysskin’s revenge on the producers for forcing him to direct the fight scene or maybe he handed it over to a second unit.
I hope someday Mysskin will direct a movie scripted by somebody else. Anjaathe’s script was very uneven capped with an overly long, nauseatingly melodramatic, Scooby doo inspired climax.
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Vijay
April 12, 2008
I finally saw Anjadhey yesterday. Late reply to Raj:
Raj, regarding your point as to why bother executing a fight scene admirably when the fight situation itself is unrealistic and not likely to happen in real life,the issue is about suspension of disbelief. Well executed scenes dont even give you a chance to think about the plausibility of that happening in real life. It lies in the execution. Having conceived of a scene where Naren had to find the inner hero in him, a fight scene was inevitable. So I am not sure how much Myskin can blame the producer in the firstb place(unless he had thought of a completely different non-violent scene to convey the same). If that fight scene was handled in a more mature manner, who knows you might not even be questioning as to how Naren walks out of that hospital alive. As it stands, it looked more like as if Myskin was intentionally mocking the producer and other masala films with that scene by making it look extra ridiculous 🙂
Songs are a different issue altogether. There I can sympathize with Myskin’s predicament more(like the ridiculous duet song that he had to include) even though he handled “kaththaazham kannaala” really well and made it look like less of a compromise. Imagine if he had shot that song in a lavish set, Shankar-style with MTV models. Instead he kept the setting and mood even with the rest of the film. That was an example of a compromise handled not badly.
A lot of what happens onscreen, even in artistically ambitious movies, probably never really happens that way in real life(for instance how much of Anbe Sivam is plausible, think about it). It is the treatment that makes the difference in terms of how much you want to believe.
Myskin is just 2 films old and he certainly deserves to be cut some slack. When he gets more experienced he will probably learn to integrate compromises seamlessly into his movies a la Mani rathnam(who himself stumbled badly with ridiculous comedy tracks in Agni natchathiram and Idhayathai thirudaadhe and quickly learned from it), to the point where some ppl now want to watch Rathnam’s movies just for the compromises(like songs) 🙂 And then eventually he will reach another level where he can get rid of those compromises altogether and make his kind of films.
I was also reminded of another thing during this discussion
Myskin’s “crime” here is more excusable compared to what Gautam did in Vettaiyaadu Vilayaadu(came to know of it thru Baradwaj’s interview), where he was’nt even supposedly present for 2 songs and his assistants shot them. I can agree being miffed at having to compromise, but how can you call the film your baby and not even be present for shooting that accounts for a solid 10 mins of on-screen time? Such indifference. And his assistants promptly bungled it up. Asking Kamal to lip-sync in Uyirile enadhu uyirile was thoroughly jarring when the song should have been completely in the background like in Balu Mahendra’s moviers.It resembled a mid-80s masala movie song like Kaakki sattai with Kamal trying to be 25 yrs old, beckoning to Jyothika with outstretched arms 🙂 It was embarassing even to watch. I dont know how Kamal did it, especially when he appeared like a 40ish cop rest of the movie.
“I suppose even Vijay would be making his own compromises on his output at some point somewhere though looking at all his writing over the net, you would think he is bharathiyar reincarnated, suffering in penury for his ideals.”
LOL, come on I am nowhere near that demanding or idealistic :-)). I have often scaled back my expectations and demands after learning about the ppl/circumstances involved behind the creation and also if it is a newcomer who is involved. It is just that from time to time I tend to expect more from artists with quite a resume(like a Kamal or ILyaraja or Rahman or Mani Rathnam) and when I feel let down I get upset a little bit. Natural response as a fan, I suppose.
Having seen Anjadhey as a whole now, my impressions have been mostly positive overall despite my earlier complaints. Even this fight scene complaint is only borne out of angst. Having gotten quite a few things right in the movie, why did he have to bungle it up like this in a regular straightforward fight scene is the thought. If this scene had been in Pokkiri, would I be complaining about it ? 🙂 Unfortunately in a movie like this it stick out like a sore thumb. Same problem with Vasanth and his films. He sets a realistic tone and then sometimes goofs it up by including some rather cliched scenes and blunt in-your-face compromises(Rhythem, hey nee romba azhaga irukka, nee paadhi naan paadhi all had such instances)
Sorry for the long post. Filling up Baradwaj’s space makes me guilty
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Utkal Mohanty
July 31, 2008
It’s not rue that Indian audiences cannot take self-indulgence. They can, when it connects. AS you say, that happens when ” he’s made something that he wants to make, and that’s turned out to be something that we want to see.” Lagaan was self-indulgent: 4 hours of cricket match, and the audience too it. Hum aapke Kaun Hainwas self-indulgent, 31/2 hours of wedding video with 14 songs, again the audience took it. Upendra’s films in Kaanada are self-indulgent and some. And film like “h2O’ have been superhits. ” No Smoking’ has its takers. It’s boring self-indulgenece like ‘ Tshan’ and ‘Saawariya’ that touches no one.
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praneshp
November 1, 2017
I miss Utkal.
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