Spoilers ahead…
When we first meet Mannar Mannan (Guru Somasundaram), the protagonist of Joker, he’s squatting behind his home, reading the newspaper and relieving himself. The crudeness of the image is intentional – everything about it is. We’re meant to see that there’s no proper toilet, and slowly, we will see how important this toilet is in the scheme of his life. As for the newspaper, it points to his obsessive interest in his surroundings (he lives in Dharmapuri) and the country beyond it. He’s not happy about the state of the nation. The shopkeeper down the street uses his television set to watch cricket (Mannan, naturally, prefers the news). People drink harmful carbonated beverages. The water is contaminated with fluoride. In hospitals, parents of ailing children (one has fallen into a well) prefer to pray to God rather than petition the government for better facilities. Then, we have sand smuggling, men wasting their lives (and money) in wine shops, a skyline made of ginormous cut-outs of Vijay and Ajith…
The crux is this: Mannan thinks he’s the President. (Yes, that President. A handmade poster in his house has his photo beneath pictures of Abdul Kalam, Pratibha Patil and Pranab Mukherjee.) He stages protests against everything he feels is wrong, and his methods are unique. To protest against the slow working of the corporation, for instance, he releases tortoises in the building. And his sidekicks (Gayathri Krishna, who captures all this on her phone and loads the clips on social media, and Mu Ramasamy, made to look like the writer Jayakanthan) egg him on. At least, they indulge him. In short, the opening scenes quickly usher us into the kind of film where “letters to the editor” masquerade as dialogue, good intentions masquerade as cinema. (I am sure the director Raju Murugan won’t mind this criticism. He even squeezes in a line about free speech.) And I recalled Cuckoo, the director’s earlier film, whose failings we find here. Joker, for a while (and for something being sold as a satire), is too straight, too earnest, too consumed by the “importance” of the issues it raises. The opening scene shows children defecating on the roadside as vendors of brooms cycle by. “Irony,” in case you missed it. No moment is tossed off, insignificant. Take a look at the books the characters read. Kalam’s Agni Siragugal. Naan Malala. You’d think someone in the village would find five minutes to unwind with the latest Vikatan, but no. The film is so crammed with a sense of civic duty that it forgets to breathe.
But something magical happens about a half-hour in. The film becomes a film, a piece of cinema. It stops being a screed, it starts telling a story – a lovely story. We slip into a flashback and learn how Mannan got to be this way. It’s not that Raju Murugan stops talking about things. It’s just that these issues are dramatised, folded into the events that unfold around Mannan and Mallika (the graceful Ramya Pandian). The fact that local cable stations air the latest films at night is an issue. But it’s slipped casually into the scene where Mannan tells Mallika he owns a TV set. (She wants to inspect the facilities in his house before she commits.) Open defecation is an issue, but unlike the earlier scene with the boys, it now becomes a plot point: Mallika will not marry someone whose house doesn’t have a toilet. (A Tamil-film heroine who is strong, who speaks her mind, who has to be won over. It’s a medical mi-rack-le.) Another issue isn’t even stated: there are TVs, but no toilets. Later, when the real President makes a visit, we tackle the issue of Potemkin villages – this, too, plays a crucial part in the story. And what about the issue of people being roped into political gatherings, to act as cheering crowds in exchange for biriyani and booze? It becomes the basis for the Mannan-Mallika meet-cute.
What’s on display, essentially, is the fill-in-the-blanks technique we now recognise as “the Shankar flashback,” but one that’s vastly more affecting. (Thinking along these lines, Joker becomes a lower-key variation on a Shankar theme: What if Indian thatha took to peaceful protests instead of offing wrongdoers?) The editorialising doesn’t go away entirely. There’s another ugly bit of irony in a scene that shows middlemen in bathtubs and on ceramic thrones pocketing money meant for toilets in villages. But the Mannan-Mallika story is so riveting that these lapses are easy to brush aside. Unlike the love story in the overwrought Cuckoo, this one works. Raju Murugan, this time, doesn’t strain for the epic. He’s far better at charting out intimate moments.
He’s also one of a handful of filmmakers (Karthik Subbaraj is another) who uses Ilayaraja’s songs meaningfully. The song that’s sung as Mallika and Mannan meet? Iru paravaigal… Raju Murugan not only showcases rarer numbers (say, En gaanam indru arangerum from Eera Vizhi Kaaviyangal), he toys with them. I got a big laugh from the prisoner who sings Alli thandha boomi, from Nandu. The next scene, his wife brings him… nandu kozhambu. Raju Murugan’s own music director, Sean Roldan, contributes magnificently too – Ola ola kudisayila (which may be another homage to Ilayaraja; there’s a similarly worded song in Orey Oru Gramathiley) and Chellamma are drop-dead stunners. And his background score creates unusual spaces. A highly dramatic moment plays over little more than slightly discordant keys and the sounds of a downpour.
I left the film wishing Raju Murugan would make a straight-out love story, with unglamorous stars, in these exquisitely unglamorous settings. Because few others seem to be making them. And because after the flashback, the messages return with a vengeance. (A speech by the Mu Ramasamy character, explaining the Significance Of The Title, is a particular low point.) But Guru Somasundaram makes it all worthwhile. He makes us empathise deeply with a difficult character who’s part truth-spewing wise fool, part man with a mental condition. Watch him when he’s held back by cops during the President’s visit. You expect explosions of righteous rage. Instead, we get how pathetic, how powerless he is. Watch him search for the right word while addressing Supreme Court judges in English. “I reject your [pause] judgement.” A good actor can dust the cobwebs off clichés. A great one can (almost) make you buy a message movie.
KEY:
- Indian thatha = see here
- nandu kozhambu = crab soup
- Agni Siragugal = see here
- Naan Malala = see here
- Vikatan = see here
- Cuckoo = see here
An edited version of this piece can be found here. Copyright ©2016 The Hindu. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Baradwaj Rangan 
Karthic Ganesan
August 12, 2016
Hi Baradwaj,
Looks like a good movie. Will watch it.
This is my first comment on your blog. I always read your Tamil film reviews.
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venkatesh
August 12, 2016
Guru Somasundaram is a great find from Aaranya Kaandam.., i am glad he is getting a starring role .., even if its in a messagey , alright movie.
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ramvaradan
August 13, 2016
A preachy movie is alright if its context of the script, what is an activist supposed to do? Say, if you were to make a biopic about T.Ramasamy .. you’d encapsulate much of his legal wrangles and speeches… The only thing is, it should’nt be stating the obvious too much. If this movie takes on the open defecation issues in India, its one of the first to do so.
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brangan
August 13, 2016
ramvaradan: A preachy movie is NEVER alright. The word “preachy” denotes a kind of sermonising, talking down to an audience. That is a TERRIBLE thing. Whatever the director wants to say, he should take care to “fold it into the narrative/story” (like I have detailed in the third para of this review ) instead of just focusing the camera on someone spouting things. For that you don’t need a theatre or cinema. You just need an office room and a PowerPoint presentation.
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ramvaradan
August 13, 2016
Ok I think by ‘preachy’ you mean literal sermonizing by means of ‘dialogue’?.. but a movie can preach at several level/layers. and still give us a riveting experience Case in point : you got a movie such as “The Life Of David Gale”, which preaches against the capital punishment by proving why and how it can get awry, in real terms. The protagonists actually prove it and the plot unwinds to that end. Where as, you take ‘Virumandi’ .. it does nothing to make an impression about the capital punishment, except by acting as a literal mouthpiece, against it. Although, Virumandi does many other things pretty well. In my books : Virumandi is a bad preacher. While Thevar Magan, Subramaniapuram are good preachers …
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brangan
August 13, 2016
ramvaradan: And I’m saying that Thevar Magan is NOT preachy.
I’m trying to explain the difference between a film saying something and preaching. It’s a difference in tone, in the quality of writing. The first half-hour of Joker shoves its themes down your throat. That’s preaching. “Look, this is what I am talking about. Look, this is how the country is.” In Thevar Magan, the writing/filmmaking is exquisitely “invisible.” Hence, it’s not preaching, not annoying.
It is not a sin for a film to want to say something. But Tamil cinema has a way of making characters spell this out through dialogue, and that is just bad writing/filmmaking — a remnant of stage plays.
To continue with the Thevar Magan example, only the “poi pulla kuttingala padikka vainga” line is addressed to the audience, and even that line comes about after a great deal of dramatic development — it’s like an end point for the character.
But consider how, earlier, Sivaji’s character tells Kamal to do something for the village. The “content” is preachy, but the “form” is not — because the “message” is folded into dialogue and a scene that is not OBVIOUSLY (and not ONLY) about this message but also about a father and his son and the interpersonal dynamics. With most Tamil filmmakers, this would have been just a scene with a big, fat, annoying message.
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venkatesh
August 13, 2016
Oh, you should write about Thevar Magan or point us to a place where you have written about it BR. Would love to read it.
The more time passes , the greater is my appreciation of that film. It really is head and shoulders above almost anything else that has since , even from Kamal himself.
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Honest Raj (formerly 'V'enkatesh)
August 14, 2016
The song that’s sung as Mallika and Mannan meet? Iru paravaigal…
A tribute to MSV
would’ve been more fitting!
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Manikandan
August 14, 2016
@ BR final monologue by Ramasamy works in a way as it reminds viewers about lack of idealism in their daily lives ( preachy) – a timely reminder to viewers all through have been laughing at things instead they should be worried about overall fall in respect for idealism
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Honest Raj (formerly 'V'enkatesh)
August 14, 2016
BR: How do you see Ore Oru Gramathiley and Neenga Nalla Irukkanum? Interestingly, both films had won a National Award.
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sadhana
August 14, 2016
One of the best films!
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magizhchi
August 14, 2016
BR: I agree that parts of the first half were preachy, but in the cinema hall, many of those dialogues were met with warm applause from the audience. That preachiness feels to me like a necessity for the film to be well received by the Tamil audience because, unlike cinema from other parts of the world, Tamil cinema is deeply politically charged as a medium (thanks to MGR, Karunanidhi, etc.). The first half of Joker served as a political vent for the audience. I believe, you’ve not sufficiently addressed the unique symbiosis between Tamil cinema and politics.
Wasn’t Parasakthi preachy? Didn’t it play a huge role in DMK’s victory at the time? The people of this state look to cinema for their politics, and so the movie must break from its cinematic self-containedness and address the audience directly, like a politician would.
So, this film, Joker, must also by analysed for whether it succeeded in reflecting the reality of leftist politics in Tamil Nadu. And that, I think, it did spectacularly well. The dialogue near the climax, where the old activist character laments about who is really mad and worries about whether it was he who really killed Mannar Mannan beautifully reflects the internal conflict and guilt many activist feel amidst a public that treats them like they are crazy. Other examples of this being a leftist, activist movie…pictures of Rohith Vemula when Mannar travels from Delhi to TN, the use of the word ‘Thozhar’ in the last scene.
The second half of Joker was beautifully restrained. The film didn’t condescendingly preach to the audience about whether euthanasia is good or bad…the audience is left to decide, and the film only gently nudges the audience to fight for the right to mercy killing. The film also doesn’t use violence as an outlet for public outrage, and neither does it blame any one section of society in particular. It presents a nuance, complex view of society. It blames all of us, with the film’s story, its striking resemblance to our world, as the evidence.
BR, I know you don’t usually support films because you like the politics it furthers. But to me, art and politics are the same thing. Don’t you agree? Shouldn’t a film critic overtly take a political stance? And if she says she is apolitical, isn’t she making the political choice to accept existing political structures? Why not talk about the invisible fabric that binds our society and our art more openly?
This is a movie that reflects the inhumanity of inequality and urges us to fight for equality. It takes a political stance, and asks the audience to do so as well. Why must the film critic be apolitical?
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brangan
August 15, 2016
magizhchi: That preachiness feels to me like a necessity for the film to be well received by the Tamil audience because, unlike cinema from other parts of the world, Tamil cinema is deeply politically charged as a medium
I disagree. This may ring true when “analysed” as a phenomenon, but I truly believe that that the audience reacts not to the “political nature” of dialogues but to their “punch value.” So if the same dialogues were in a Shankar movie, they’d applaud there too.
Wasn’t Parasakthi preachy?
That was a different era. Cinema was in a very rudimentary stage. People did not know how to use the medium except as something that “photographed” stage plays. So it was the stage-play techniques that were popular then, and hence the preachy and declamatory nature of dialogue (because on stage, you couldn’t cut away to a flashback, for instance; you had to TALK about it.)
It’s different today. More than enough Tamil filmmakers have used cinema as cinema — heck, Raju Murugan himself has done this in this film, starting from the katterumbu scene segueing to the flashback and ending with the wife’s predicament. This portion is beautiful cinema. And then we get back to the old man’s rant etc.
This is at odds with the “pure cinema” portion. At least Parasakthi was stagey from start to finish. It did not have this dissonance.
The dialogue near the climax, where the old activist character laments about who is really mad…
Again, this is about form and content. I don’t have a problem with the content of the dialogue. But to have him recite a stagey monologue like that? Why not have him burst out in anger (or sadness) in front of a few people, instead of making it seem like a monologue? That to me would make this far less stagey and preachy because there is an engagement happening.
The Rohith Vemula picture, the word “Thozhar” — all seemed like inflating a small premise. The power of the film lies in the fantastic mid-section, in which these very themes of oppression etc. are dramatised (rather, cinematised) so well that we don’t need a Vemula poster to say “oh, so that is where the director was going!”
The film didn’t condescendingly preach to the audience about whether euthanasia is good or bad…the audience is left to decide, and the film only gently nudges the audience to fight for the right to mercy killing.
Exactly. This all part of the film that works as “cinema” for me, and I have talked in the review about how all this “info” has been “folded into the narrative.”
Shouldn’t a film critic overtly take a political stance?
To me, the most important thing is to see if the film is doing well what it sets out to do, whether Theri or Joker. What is “within” the film is what concerns me.
Why not talk about the invisible fabric that binds our society and our art more openly?
I think I have done this at times, but this sort of thing is better done in an opinion piece than in a review, which is more about the cinematic quality of the film.
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magizhchi
August 15, 2016
BR: Thanks for your response, that clarified some things for me. I agree with everything you said here.
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Venkat
August 15, 2016
I felt kaka Muttai struck a fine balance. It was very subtle and not many could have been able to catch the underpinnings. It was not atleast judgemental. One of the scenes takes a dig at the sate of our PDS when the female lead carries the free TV set and tells her MIL that there was no rice.
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Nivaz
August 17, 2016
KaKa muttiai is not preachy boss 🙂
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bart
August 18, 2016
Strongly moved by the movie.. Stageyness, lack of pragmatism / logic, overt messaging all got swept away for me by the intention, strength in its core and efforts in making. Enjoyed its on-the-face visuals and empathetic background score. Got reminded of “Peepli Live” though I liked this better probably because I could relate to the issues more. We need a few of these before hatching “Kaaka Muttai”s to make any impact in the society, even to the size of a small grain of “manal”… Well done Raju & team.
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Selvin Paul
August 22, 2016
Sir,
Was “Madras” preachy except probably the last shot where Karthi says it out straight what the film intent to be. Again you had issues with the film not being able to offer you much. Perhaps because you did not get most of the underlying aspects. Until later someone from the comment section chipped in and gave you references. Am i switching topic? are they two different things?
PSS: you had issues with Nolan (Interstellar) being more complicated.
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brangan
August 22, 2016
Selvin Paul: Not at all. I found the last scene randomly preachy, but the rest of the film is very well-made. Despite Kabali, Ranjith is a good writer/director.
Nolan is a very different case. His recent films all have that “oh, this is such a SERIOUS and GREAT film we’re making” vibe. There’s no looseness. There’s a lot of pomposity. Over the years, he’s become a very flabby director, with scenes (and especially dialogues) that look padded up just to make the movies seem… SERIOUS and GREAT.
I mean, there was a lot of unintentional comedy in Interstellar — like the hilarious overuse of ‘Do not go gentle…”
This is not being preachy. This is the director’s equivalent of being hammy.
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MANK
August 22, 2016
*There’s no looseness. There’s a lot of pomposity. Over the years, he’s become a very flabby director *
Yeah, compare his recent films with the earlier (low budget but artistically ambitious) ones like Momento or Insomnia, how tightly wound and fat free those films were.sometime bigger budgets and too much creative freedom can work to the detriment of the filmmakers. think Michael Cimino?
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Rohit Sathish Nair
August 23, 2016
BR:
Rangan Sir, your response to the recent crop of message movies (Dharmadurai, Appa, Joker, Madaari) has left me slightly confused at times.
As an 18-year-old who still is yet to watch or observe a lot of cinema in general, these are my doubts:
1) How much can a filmmaker use the potential of the medium that is cinema, and not use the ‘megaphone’, without ending up looking like an armchair activist, or an artist who uses relevant issues just to flaunt his abilities?
2) You said that vices shown in cinema do not have a LARGE impact on society in some of your earlier articles. If the same applies for message movies, how much of a difference can or does it make in actually using the visual medium, or in resorting to videographed pamphleteering? This doubt plagues me a little more especially as some downright message-shouting movies like ‘How Old Are You?’ in Malayalam have managed to create some mini-ripples, even if for a very short period of time.
I ask for apology in advance if my doubts are downright silly/stupid, or if you have made clear your stance on this issue earlier in this blog.
Thank you
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brangan
August 23, 2016
Rohit Sathish Nair: I thought I talked about Thevar Magan in an earlier comment, where I said how a film could say a lot of things and yet not say them with a “megaphone” (as you put it). The art is in folding these messagey bits into the screenplay.
I know I keep bringing up Kamal and Mani Ratnam (and yes, despite Bharathan, I consider Thevar Magan a “Kamal film”), but their films give the best examples of the “craft” of cinema. Take this scene from Kannathil Muthamittal (in case you don’t remember the scene, do watch it before you read further).
The message weighs ten tons, but the “delivery of this message” is as light as a feather. Had it been only about the Madhavan character, the film would have been insufferable, like Appa. But look what Mani Ratnam does. He “dilutes” Madhavan’s intensity and activism by giving him a foil in Simran, who’s the very definition of “ordinary.” She just wants simple things, not to change the world.
There are so many ways a proposal scene can happen in a film. It can be “cute.” It can be “romantic.” It can be one of those “loosu ponnu” things. But here, it’s an “angry” proposal, which ties into Madhavan’s anger as a character. So the cliche (proposal) gets instantly subverted by the tone, by the writing, by the uniqueness of the characterisation.
And along with the message, you’re getting a very human story. The story of how Madhavan and Simran become a couple is a “foil” to the messagey aspects of this movie, just like Simran’s character is a foil to Madhavan. Simran has been waiting for Madhavan to make this proposal, and yet, she’s annoyed that it happened because of his desire to adopt. So the “lecture” he gives is instantly humanised because he’s not TALKING DOWN to her from a lectern but simply talking TO her.
When she asks if he’s marrying her just to get Amudha home, he says “I want this eye and that eye” — he’s still being him, borderline pompous, insufferable. But she makes us like him because she punctures this pompousness. She says what WE may have said, “Okay, that’s enough.” And then there’s humour from Madhavan’s sister.
And I’ve not even come to the photography, the use of light, the staging, the use of music. This is just the basic “ideas to execution” part I am talking about.
With films like Appa, there is no foil, no undercurrent, no parallel situation, no humour, nothing to puncture the pompousness, no staging, no photography — basically, nothing OTHER than the message. It’s just the dad giving lectures to the son. That’s a HUGE difference.
About the impact of messages, I sincerely believe that they have very little impact on the viewer once he or she leaves the theatre. But it’s more than that. Cinema is an ART form. It’s not some pamphlet to “cure” society.
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Ragenikanth
August 23, 2016
BR ,Kannathil Muthamittal whole movie is filled with such gems one of MR very best
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Kid
August 23, 2016
BR: Off-topic, but what did you think of Buddhadeb Dasgupta’s “Anwar Ka Ajab Kissa”? I know you had a line on it in one of your posts, but it would be great if you could atleast write a para on it even if it’s in the comments section. I am insisting on this, because this film may never get a theatrical release (it has been almost three years since the film was made and, as far as I know, no Indian distributor has shown any real interest in acquiring it and releasing it in India. India has never really cared for its greatest auteurs) and I may never get to see it (unless a pirated print of it arrives on the net). I know you saw the film almost a year back, but it would be nice to hear from you on the film.
Also not sure if you are aware, but Adoor’s new film “Pinneyum” released last week. I think it should be playing in Chennai with subs. It hasn’t been getting favourable reviews, but do try and catch it if you can.
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Raj
August 23, 2016
@ BR: The KM scene was a great example of what art/subtle form is. Thanks for the detailed explanation. This topic is very close to what we were discussing in another movie forum.
I feel this is where an artist suffers –when art intersects with business. KM did not do good business but Appa did.. So what should the creator do? Compromise or spend his life elevating the audience. How many people would have conceived the KM scene like you did? This is a vicious cycle-
That father-son scene in Thevar Magan has been used in several situational comedies. This one is my attempt- Sorry if its too mokkai
BR/Mani/Kamal: Enna vittundunga appa, endha Kaatu mirandi kuthathula naan padam eduka mudiyadhu
General audience leader: Kaatu mirandi kutama!! Edula unna appavum oruthanu maradhunda dha appu
BR: Appadi partha naanum adhula oru than dhan pa
GAL: Namba oorla irruka mukka vaasi pasanga Sivaji dramanu sonna udana kadasi row varaikum utkarandu whistle adichavan kottam appu.. Avanuku konjum overacting, munjila adikara madhiri acting panna dhan pidikum.. Velakaran madhiri padam edutha parapaana??
Nee dhan neraya padichi irrukiye.. Nalla padama onnu edu, ellarukum pottu kaattu… Aaana namba paiyan meduvadhan varuvaan meduvadhan varuvaan.,, Adhalam parka naama irruka maatom, AAna vedai naama pottadhu… Edhalam enna perumaiya–kadama ovoru Reviewera voda kadama 😉
Thanks for educating us BR.. Continue doing it!!!!
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brangan
August 23, 2016
Raj: So what should the creator do? Compromise or spend his life elevating the audience.
Boss, I am not talking about “elevating” the audience. Who am I to say the audience’s taste is bad? I am just talking about my reaction/evaluation, and explaining why I felt the way I did about a film.
“Compromise” is not a bad word. “Cluelessness” is. As long as something is incorporated organically into the story, as long as if “feels” right, you can get away with anything. No one’s asking for an art film here. Most of us only want well-made mainstream cinema.
And I like discussing these aspects with the people who comment here, because they generally happen to be of the same wavelength — unlike outside, where people will confidently throw around terms like “screenplay” without even knowing what it entails. True story 🙂
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udhaysankar
August 23, 2016
Raj: That was a well thought out analogy @thevarmagan-br.
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blurb
August 24, 2016
brangan: Thank you so much! For your analysis on that Kannaththil Muthamittaal scene!
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Jaga_Jaga
August 27, 2016
Had the movie been cut short by two scenes, the one where this “Ponnoonjal” person actually preaches, and does it pretty ineffectively (per me); and the explicit leftist tone (addressing someone as “tozhaa”), I would have rated this a super-duper-super-duper-lative movie. There is no other preaching anywhere else, as I see.
Then I come home and see your last line here “A good actor can dust the cobwebs off clichés. A great one can (almost) make you buy a message movie.”.
Couldn’t agree more. Lots of other observations I have about this one, I’ll post soon!
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brangan
August 27, 2016
Jaga_Jaga: the explicit leftist tone (addressing someone as “tozhaa”)
This is something our filmmakers have understood very well.
Just drop a word here, a hint there, a Rohith Vemula poster elsewhere — and the audience will instantly lap it up as though THAT is the film’s whole point (even if the film-thus-far was something else entirely). This sort of “quotation” lends “gravity” to the film — “Oh, look, he’s addressing all these important issues!”
Who cares about actually writing the film around the issue? I mean, why bother when the word/the hint/ the Rohith Vemula is enough to make the audience have an orgasm!
In a way, this technique was followed to the T by the Malayalam film “Ozhivudivasathe Kali.”
A simple-minded message movie that transformed into “Oh, look, he’s addressing all these important issues!”
I wrote about that film here…
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Jaga_Jaga
August 28, 2016
@Brangan. Like you so rightly point out, it is sad that our filmmakers ignore their own stories and instead focus on time-tested cliches to “deliver the message”.
Joker superbly highlights this. When the audience have already gotten the message via the story itself, why then add those extra bits which take the movie four or five notches down? It is not even like the director might not have been aware of this – after all its the same person who gave us this movie and made almost 95% of it with aplomb. The “gravity” flowed naturally with the story. No contrivance was ever needed. Then why would you do yourself a disservice? Overall, what should have been an epic movie almost ended up like being a college-play. That it didn’t is largely because of Guru Somasundam. Something you pointed out very clearly!
Some highlights as I see:
I loved the initial wackiness in the movie. It was literally in-your-face. I absolutely didn’t see it as pamphleteering or propaganda of any sorts. The wackiness beautifully masqueraded it all. My personal favorite is when Guru tries to rip a poster apart, and the poster kept moving towards him as he approached it. That was brilliant portrayal of looniness all around.
And oh the love story! The director was sublime here. Extremely novel of him to conceive the political rally truck as the scene of love. And it was wonderfully executed. Even the ubiquitous “sarakku sentiment” which seems to bind the whole of Tamil movies watching “youth” today was organically woven in the story. It never felt like “oh god! yet another GV Prakash headed bunch of wastrels booozing just so that some reels are spent”. (A digression: If it is possible, please write about the “sarakkku sentiment” in contemporary Tamil movies as its own blog. It is worth a research paper. In the 50s and 60s it was “tamil sentiment”, in the 70s and 80s it was “taali and taai sentiment”, in the 90s and early 2000s it was the “mass sentiment”. Now nothing but the “sarakku sentiment” seems to pervade throughout our movies. Have lots to say on this, but very little time!).
The tragedy which followed it was even better. Restrained shots, incredible acting and a great mix of irony and satire were heart rending. Bucket loads of tears came out of me during the Chellama song. And I thought of myself as being immune to emotions. How much more can a person suffer? The maker of this movie and the person who enacted it – these were geniuses for me at this point.
What followed was even more of a tragedy – not w.r.t the storyline, but for the director himself. By now, I’d say that he had crossed over that proverbial thin line between genius and madness, and was not at all justified in that Ponoonjal’s rant. I mean, his (director’s) messages were already loud and clear (and beautifully subtle) that the Indian state has failed its masses. You are no more worthy than poop. And you’ll perish no matter where you poop. period. So what’s the point of some completely useless mumbo-jumbo which ponoonjal utters? Mr. director, if you’re reading this, imagine you’re feeding us a delightful meal. We don’t know what’s in it. But its so wonderful that we love it. So much that even if we happen to be vegetarians, we don’t care if the food contains some meat. We love it so much. You’ve been such a wonderful chef. Then suddenly after we thought desserts have already been served, you bring us a bunch of smashed flies and cockroaches – yes you read it right, and attempt to force-feed us, not because we want to eat it, but because you want us to have it since you believe that eating them is the right thing to do. Do you expect us to ravish praises on the meal now or forget it all and politely excuse ourselves with a feeling “oh shit, what a fare it could have been. If only…”
Lastly another serious issue. I loved the Iftar depiction in the movie. I don’t know what the true meaning which the director wanted to showcase. But what I got out of it was, how when dealing with other communities/religions you can more boldly showcase their religious fervor/hypocrisy – like the christian community crazily praying in the hospital, the mariamman appeasers, how the brahmins side with those in power, quoting scriptures on one hand but being utterly apathetic to anything but their cause, and so-on. But with the depiction of Islam if you’re not subtle, contemporarily there is a higher probability that you can bloody end up losing your life . So the director beautifully pandered to the mass-sentiment. Even brought about a few Zakir-Naikisms when a random politician spews some crap. But did it all in a subtle way.
When he is capable of such all-encompassing subtlety, why then did he have to bring up his leftist ideology so jarringly??? Which is why the movie is nowhere near what it could have been.
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ramvaradan
August 28, 2016
The crux of the movie is the portrayal of the ineffectiveness of a common man against the government’s well oiled corrupt machinery. You dare to rise, you will be crushed and ridiculed. The last preachy lines of the movie is not unwarranted, IMHO.. I find it palatable after the movie has actually taken us through the process of desperate social activism-s in the reins of the 3 central character and their unsuccesful pitches. I think, the preachy lines is to justify the title (albeit a bit loud) “Who is the joker here?” … I have personal experience of arguing in favor of people who take up social causes and being put down firmly, with a tone that “these guys are fighting not for a cause, because they just like to fight”… On the other hand, if the movie were to take twists and turns to tide all the problems where the protagonists just superheroi-cally wins.. then I would have problems with preachiness. It would have been unreal, and impure. IMHO, those lines that start with Thozha is a pleading to the audience that we stand up and support those who fight for us in their daily lives.
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brangan
August 28, 2016
Jaga_Jaga: When the audience have already gotten the message via the story itself, why then add those extra bits which take the movie four or five notches down?
I’m guessing it’s because the director doesn’t trust the audience will get the fact that he’s made an “important” film, or get the message. And if this is the case, this fear might not be entirely unjustified.
Because most audiences are passive watchers of film — i.e. they take a film at face value, without really ‘entering’ it. Plus, over the years, directors have corrupted the audience by hitting them on the head with messages. So if you just fold the message within the story itself, the audience may end up being moved by the story without digging in and reflecting on the points you’ve touched on. But if you give them a straightforward speechification — the filmic equivalent of the last para of a second-standard essay where the teacher has taught you to “tie up all the points” — then they realise, “Oh, so this is what he was really saying. Good job!”
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Kurinji
August 28, 2016
Doesn’t the times we live in determine whether preachy is a good thing or a bad thing ? By rajumurugan’s book anyone who is not preachy, who is not outraged in these horrible times needs fixing . Not the other way around. The monologue at the end was just an angry outburst . Anyone who doesn’t empathise with that may need to step out of their bubble .He chose dharmapuri, a wretched place as against Madurai or nellai .He was pretty accurate in his portrayal . The slang the looks he nailed it. Journalist rajumurugan upgraded himself to a more powerful medium to talk about caste parties , alchoholism , fluoride in water etc etc . Your vikatan quip was ironical since rajumurugan wrote a column about similar themes with similar tone in vikatan.
I’m not sure if critics caught the political references . caste parties done a prohibition mask and distribute liquor in their meetings .it’s a direct hit at pmk and how their politics affects the lives of poor vanniyars. The hero immolates himself in front of ambedkar statue . That is a powerful message right there . I laughed out aloud for the “prime minister who doesn’t like ifthar party ” dialogue. Seeman like character professing about moon in siva peruman head and moon in Islam . That was so hilarious . It’s a political movie in and out . The love scenes were nothing but plot vehicles to drive home the point about right to live of the disenfranchised .
Shankar types diss at our systems our democracy and hand out vigilante solutions.that is not exactly social awareness.That’s why rajumurugan is a force to reckon with . His heart is at the right place
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brangan
August 28, 2016
Kurinji: The love scenes were nothing but plot vehicles to drive home the point about right to live of the disenfranchised .
That’s exactly what we are saying. That these ‘love’ portions work as cinema as well as political commentary. Hence this line in the review:
It’s not that Raju Murugan stops talking about things. It’s just that these issues are dramatised, folded into the events that unfold around Mannan and Mallika
The point of good screenwriting is to tell a story above all, and in these portions he does that brilliantly, WHILE ALSO talking about his politics. Thus, these portions transcend propaganda and become “cinema.”
There is no doubt WHAT he is talking about is important. We are only discussing the HOW.
His heart is at the right place
That it certainly is. But having a good heart isn’t the same as being a good filmmaker.
Some of us are saying that Raju Murugan is a good filmmaker for about 70% of this film, whereas the rest, he just has a good heart. Is that enough? That’s depends on the individual viewer.
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Jaga_Jaga
August 29, 2016
@Kurinji, and Brangan:
W.r.t Brangan’s point:
“Some of us are saying that Raju Murugan is a good filmmaker for about 70% of this film, whereas the rest, he just has a good heart.”
I even say he was a superlative filmmaker for about 95% of this film. I quote the exact number also!
About what you (kurinji) call as the “natural outburst” – I would have had no problem if it did not feel contrived TO ME. It felt awful lot so. It is a coincidence that Brangan felt the same way!
Given how the plot is used to drive the politics throughout – which is what I also insist again and again, the director may have used the same technique for this final rant too right?? For me it felt like I was watching an altogether different movie during that scene.
And note my tone throughout, I was heaping praises on the director, and it is rather my angst that “geez! this should have been a brilliant movie, not just a good one” that let me make my critical comment. Not the other way about, i.e, never said the director is a stupid one.
Lastly, @Brangan – I opine that filmmakers often conveniently blame the audience as either being too immature for them when and that is the reason they (filmmakers) are blunt, or take refuge in this concept of the audience being too sophisticated when they subtly put across a message. At the end of the day they do what they do, and as per their whims CLAIM IT WAS DONE TO MAKE THE AUDIENCE APPRECIATE! Its just their ego as I see, and the audience is a convenient scapegoat.
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brangan
August 29, 2016
Just recalled these lines from my Kaaka Muttai review (not just about Joker but our films in general):
How, with all these story threads, did Manikandan think up so much humour? Or maybe the question should really be addressed to other filmmakers. Why do they get so wrapped up in their dour mission to educate that they forget to entertain?
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ramvaradan
August 31, 2016
When the character who has been an altruistic kind syas stuff that reflects the true rumblings of an agonized mindset, it strikes a chord albeit preachy. There was not a bit of fakeness, I felt with that. You can say that of KH’s final ThevarMagan lines as well. Its not so much as of a ‘message in a capsule” but the unfolding of character.
On the other hand, ill-gotten preachiness is such as in KH’s Virumandi where you hear the lines against capital punishment just to be a tagline, when the movie plot is far removed from it.
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hari ohm
December 20, 2016
This movie is now available in Amazon Prime in India. Hope Aaranya Kaandam is also made available there.
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