Aaradhana (1987)

 

Film romances are often full of stupid people doing stupid things, trying my patience to the point that I hope one or all of them will hurry up and die so the movie can end. Thankfully this is not the case with Aaradhana which I found intelligent and lyrical. It is hard to avoid spoilers, although I have tried, so be warned…

The basic story is simple enough. Puliraju (Chiranjeevi) is a no-good drunk who falls for Jenny, (Suhasini) a Christian schoolteacher. Jenny’s family rely on her for financial support and her father Danial plans for her to marry wealthy cousin Lawrance (Dr Rajasekhar). Gangamma (Radhika) believes she has been engaged to Raju since childhood and is determined to marry him.

It could have been a farce but for excellent writing and beautiful performances, ably steered by writer-director Bharathi Raja and dialogue writer Jandhyala. There are consequences to every choice and these characters know what they want, see the obstacles and understand what the results will be, both for themselves and for others. This thoughtful writing adds a note of tragedy to balance the sweetness of the love story. The cast are uniformly good and make the most of the material, with Chiranjeevi, Suhasini and Radhika outstanding. I am a Chiru fan, but I really was seeing Raju on screen most of the time, not the Megastar. I will add, there is not a shred of lycra nor a metallic go-go boot in sight – his performance succeeds purely on acting ability. And those eyes.

The film opens with a slow pan around a seaside village before Puliraju chases a man through the market and lops his arm off as punishment for teasing a girl. He is a destructive force of misguided and alcohol-fuelled energy; childishly impulsive and self centred, full of aggression yet backs away from emotional confrontations. His name is a sign of the character’s dual nature – is he a beast or a prince? His mother and the villagers see only his worst side.

Jenny is worlds away from the likes of Raju. After a confrontation where she slaps him and he backs down, Jenny talks to Raju’s mother and reassures her that he has a good heart under the crude exterior.

Raju overhears this and is touched by Jenny’s faith in him which, along with his attraction to her, compels him to try to become a better man. Jenny isn’t afraid of Raju, and her values demand that she tries to see the best in him. She acquiesces to his plea for lessons and over the time spent together, an attraction and warmth develops. His childish streak is allowed to manifest as a sense of fun and silly stunts to impress Teacher Jenny, and his fearsome reputation diminishes.

I found it unusual to see a hero make himself so vulnerable to a woman, and to be in the position of mutely hoping she picks him. Raju knows he isn’t the right man for Jenny in so many ways, but he loves her and feels helpless. He changes his hairstyle (with varying degrees of success but a ruler straight side part always seems to indicate Good Boy), learns to read, swaps his colourful lungis for pants and generally cuts back on his drinking and hell-raising.

More significant, he learns about empathy and demonstrates his affectionate side. He hits a few bumps in the road, but he never fully relapses into the aggressive brute Puliraju. This change is more than superficial grooming to appeal to Jenny, and later scenes with Gangamma show the extent of his self-awareness. Chiranjeevi subtly alters his posture, facial expressions and diction to show the changes in Raju.

Gangamma is Raju’s cousin and fiancée since childhood. Raju initially rejects her just because he doesn’t want a wife, and later Jenny is the unwitting obstacle between them.

Gangamma tries to see off her rival but once she realises Raju will never return her love, she reassesses. Rather than force the marriage, she colludes with him to avoid the unwanted wedding. She would rather nothing than a one-sided marriage to him and asks for a place in his household, but not as his wife. Radhika was stunning. Gangamma was a cheeky and sly girl to start with and her expressions transformed completely by the end of the film to a saddened but spirited woman

Lawrance is nice, wealthy, likes Jenny and is ready to marry. Lawrance and Raju are often shot in mirror poses or facing opposite directions and as heavy handed as it may sound, it does add to the tension as Lawrance seems to have no idea he has a rival for Jenny’s love.

Religion doesn’t appear to be a strong division in this fishing village which possesses an unusually large church. Religious imagery abounds through the film and serves to illuminate the character’s qualities rather than promote any one practice or belief. When Raju gives his teacher a seashell, he proudly announces it is special, the same shell Lord Shiva touched. He calls Jenny a goddess; not just out of love but because he sees her as beautiful, educated and an inspiration.

The Christian iconography in Jenny’s home resonates with Raju and her explanations seem aimed straight at his heart. I wondered whether the poor lost goat was really necessary in so many scenes, but seeing Chiru in tears on the railway platform with that goat, I melted too.

Lawrance’s aunt (Anuradha Vasudev)  is the catalyst for some most interesting conversations. She challenges Jenny to make a decision about following her sense of duty or her heart and she is frank and explicit on this subject. This is not a film where women are completely passive. Jenny is expected to make a decision, tell the men what she has chosen, and live her life accordingly in full knowledge of the consequences.

Everyone seems to know what is going on (except maybe Lawrance) and there is no protective bubble of invisibility around the lovers. Jenny is assaulted by a villager who assumes he can have her as she spends so much time with Raju that she surely can’t be virtuous. I found that scene fascinating as it wasn’t a drunken leery groping type of assault but a calculated move by a man who thought he had the situation and the woman under control. It was very well written and felt horribly real. Gangamma also has to bear the brunt of village gossip as unsuccessful Romeos turn to slander and threats. They all know Raju isn’t the tough Puli anymore and some seek to take advantage of his rehabilitation.

When Jenny and family leave to stay with Lawrance, Raju sees them off.  After publicly exhorting Raju to come and visit, Danial privately and tearfully begs at Raju’s feet that he never come near them again lest it jeopardise his family’s prospects. The tragedy is not in witless people acting selfishly, but in likeable, practical people trying to do what they think is right and being aware of the pain they cause.

The opening titles introduce the ocean as a key player in the story, and the sound of the sea is a constant rhythm. The landscape and ocean are filmed with as much care as the actors. The music by Illayaraja is lovely, and the theme from ‘Are Emaindi’ is used to superb effect. The reprise at the end of the film is wonderful, and the changed lyrics help create the mood of anguish. I wish I could find clips with subtitles for the songs as they add so much meaning.

There are some flaws in the film but they didn’t really diminish the experience. I found some of the edits really clumsy and I wonder if maybe there were scenes missing from the DVD – it certainly felt like there was a lead up to a missing song in one section and a couple of scenes jumped quite suddenly. The climax is over the top; it relies on divine intervention, suffers from geographic inconsistencies as the village seems to change size, and Chiru is quite the ham in his cross village marathon. The actors had all given so much to make these characters come alive that I really cared what happened. And let’s be honest – I’ve seen much more unbelievable stuff than this (SRK in Kal Ho Naa Ho staggers to mind!). I didn’t need the voiceover at the end either; I’d already made up my version of ever after.

I admit to some tears, and Chiranjeevi’s Raju broke my heart. I give Aaradhana 4 and ½ stars (and three handkerchiefs).

Jagadam

Ram’s second film, Jagadam, is a dark and violent gangster film and is certainly very different from his debut role in Devadasu. Supposedly loosely based on the Brazilian film City of God, it’s less an exposé of gangland life but purports to be a moralistic tale of the consequences of violence.

Ram plays Seenu, a wannabe rowdy who becomes fascinated by violence as a child.  Perhaps this is because the area around him is rife with thugs and petty crime, or maybe just because he is a rather warped child. The local community, including the corrupt police, both fear and revere the rowdies who control the area. Seenu dreams of becoming like his hero, the local Don, Manikyam (Pradeep Rawat).

Seenu has a talent for fighting which comes in handy as he works his way up the ranks from small time thugto head his own group of initially ineffectual youths.  His recklessness and lack of anything approaching common sense is amply demonstrated in one of the early scenes when his gang is outnumbered by a knife-wielding mob. Seenu is the only one who doesn’t retreat and ends up at the front of the group – the position that, in his eyes, makes him the leader. As such he is prepared to fight and of course, since he is the hero, wins against such impossible odds.

All of this is fairly normal gangster fare, but the film introduces some more interest in the character of Seenu’s younger brother Chinna. He idolises his brother and is fascinated by his knives and guns. The way in which this adulation is used to develop the story line in the later scenes is one of the strengths of the film, which otherwise is yet another blood soaked gangland war saga.

In the middle of Seenu’s rise to notoriety, he falls in love with Subbalakshmi (Isha Sahni). Subbalakshmi appears to be an intelligent girl; after all she is a Mahesh fan, albeit an obsessed one. Unfortunately director and writer Sukumar has given her every single characteristic we deplore in a filmi heroine. She is whiney, irritating and not just totally useless but an actual liability in a fight. She wears skimpy clothes when wandering round unsavoury areas at night. And as the final insult, Subbalakshmi tells Seenu that when a girl says no, she doesn’t actually mean it. At this point we were ready to slap her ourselves.

Why she falls in love with Seenu is a mystery as well, since he is totally inept in wooing her. He follows the usual stalker method and just assumes that since he likes her she will automatically love him back. Sadly, this does seem to be her only motivation, although perhaps his willingness to dress up in the latest Mahesh costume she bought for him was a factor. She also has an interesting, if not recommended technique for removing a foreign body from Seenu’s eye – hm!

We do like that the intermission is called an interruption, but it does mark the point where the film starts to lose its way a little. Seenu eventually has a falling out with Manikyam and ends up crossing machetes with Manikyam’s source of political funding; the industrialist Yadav, slimily portrayed by Satya Prakash. The story is totally unbelievable at this point as the difference between the well equipped seasoned killers employed by Manikyam and Seenu’s youthful gang is ludicrous. However this doesn’t stop various members of the community approaching Seenu for his rather simplistic aid. Meanwhile Chinna has been avidly following his brother’s exploits and admiring his lifestyle, much in the same way that Seenu idolised Manikyam.  When finally Seenu heads off to kill Yadav, his younger brother wants to watch but events do not unfold as anyone anticipated. This does however mean that we get to see Prakash Raj in his familiar cop avatar expounding truth and justice and using a white board to illustrate the ‘cycle of violence’.

Ram plays the cocky and arrogant character of Seenu with ease. He manages to bring enough of his chirpy ‘boy next door’ persona to the rather dark role and makes Seenu a more sympathetic character despite his arrogance and obsession with violence. Seenu’s friends are from the usual pool of young actors, and in the main they manage to bring some individuality to their various characters. Pradeep Rawat is good in his fairly small role as Manikyam, and gives his scenes some badly needed menace. Ravikumar Chowdary also turns in a convincing performance as Ladanna in the first half, but disappears towards the end of the film. Ragubabu and Saranya are rather wasted as Seenu’s parents and Satya Prakash has very little to do in his role as Yadav. Isha tries, but her character has few redeeming features so she has to settle for pouting and crying in equal measures.

The music by Devi Sri Prasad is fine but not particularly memorable. Ram is a good dancer and the choreographer has utilised his skills well in the songs. We are happy to see that he shows plenty of commitment to the chicken step and is not afraid to dance while totally covered in mud. It’s always good to see this level of dedication even if it doesn’t totally make sense.

Overall the film doesn’t succeed as an edgy drama, nor does it succeed in its supposed anti-violence message . The moralistic tone at the end fails since it doesn’t seem as if Seenu will ever have to pay for his actions. Within the cycle of violence there is a sense that Seenu could stop any time he wants to, but at heart he is still that kid fascinated by killing. While it starts as an interesting attempt and is worth a watch for Ram’s performance, the film ultimately fails to rise above the standard gangland shoot ‘em up fare.

Heather says: Jagadam tries to be different and send a message about the inevitable consequences of violence. It just doesn’t succeed, as the story still glorifies aggression and shows that a life of crime gets you the girl, plenty of money and adulation from your peers. Take away the gang fights and there is really very little of substance left. The romance is just uninteresting and there is no chemistry between Seenu and Subbalakshmi. I really didn’t care about the couple at all and thought it detracted from what could have been a much edgier drama. Ram’s performance is what makes this watchable and I think he does an excellent job of showing the arrogance and sense of indestructibility that many young people display. His anguish at the end as he realizes the price he has had to pay for his lifestyle is well portrayed and believable. But then it’s promptly diluted by the horrific fight scene immediately afterwards. The sympathy shown by the police chief is at odds to the rest of the film as well, although it does fit better with the pacifist message that seems to have been intended. I’m professionally qualified to say that the best way to remove a foreign body from an eye is not to lick it. Be warned – saliva and eyes should never come into contact! Overall the film just fails to be anything other than average, so it gets 3 stars from me.

Temple says: This is 2 and a bit hours of ‘meh’. Once again, it seems the message the film is supposed to contain is not the message I get;  it glorifies violence, showing it to be the solution to many problems and the province of heroes. I know Seenu loses people he cares about but, as he hasn’t developed any sense throughout the film, there doesn’t seem much hope for character transformation despite a scene supposed to convince us of his redemption. Prakash Raj made the most of his character and opportunities but clearly his whiteboard was wasted on the director! Ram is quite memorable, partly because of his likeable presence, but mostly because of his annoyingly asymmetrical shirts. I don’t think contrast piping and looking like you’ve got your buttons done up wrong is really going to strike fear into your enemies or impress the ladies, but the costume designer had other ideas. Despite a handful of scenes that were strong and sometimes moving, the film just wasn’t grim enough to make the violence angle feel real and wasn’t entertaining enough for it to be a good popcorn film. The overt statement of the anti-violence message was at odds with the implied approval of the hero’s character and decisions. It just didn’t get the balance of light and dark right for my tastes. I give it 2 and 1/2 stars, mostly because despite seeing it twice now I can’t recall much outstanding or noteworthy apart from Ram, those shirts, and the eyeball licking scene. And that’s probably not a recommendation.

Anaganaga O Dheerudu

There has been so much hype about this film; the Disney involvement, the special effects, the budget. Warning: there are lots of spoilers ahead, but this IS a Disney film so you should know what to expect.

The story is simple – an evil queen lays waste to an idyllic kingdom and the only hope for survival lies in the hands of a child mystic and her blind bodyguard.

The film opens with very Disney style animated credits, and then we immediately see a warrior pursued through a spooky forest before being made into a sort of zombie, his mind controlled by Irendri the evil queen with the Medusa hair. So there was already a question of whether this was aimed at being a kids film or a high fantasy epic. And that is the problem – this film doesn’t know what it is and as a result, is a bit unsatisfying in either genre.

The screenplay relies heavily on flashbacks. There’s a flashback about Moksha (the mystic child played by Baby Harshita). Shortly after we meet Yodha (Sid) he pauses for a flashback about his lost love (Priya, played by Shruti Haasan). Then when he and Moksha leave on their journey, Yodha stops for a really long flashback that explains his history, more about his lost love and how he became blind. Then towards the end of the film we get more long flashbacks explaining Irendri. It halted the momentum of the story and these could have been condensed or the information conveyed by other means.

While on the subject of how Yodha was blinded. If your eyes are poked out with a metallic pointy thing, they do not grow back changing their iris colour to blue. They would be white sightless orbs covered in scar tissue, or all the fluid drains out and they shrivel up like raisins. It does have to be said that Sid was good at playing blind but the contact lenses were a bit distracting, as were the constant close ups of his ears.

Some scenes were shot on location and the natural light was particularly unforgiving on the set constructions at the beach camp. Things looked too new and perfect; there was no wear and tear or mends on the snail shaped structures, the lighting was too obvious and modern. It sometimes looked cheap and fake, and more suitable to a kids tv show than a high fantasy epic. The wonky papier mache buildings at the village looked like they should be inhabited by Munchkins. When scenes shifted to interiors, things worked much better as the diffuse lighting was kinder to all the painted polystyrene and fibreglass props. The peacock theme, started as a beautiful costume worn by Shruti was well worked into the colour and decor of her room. Irendri’s palace fortress looked great – there was a commitment to the snake theme and it looked substantial and daunting. The scenes in the spooky forest with the bird demons were quite effective and  helped build some tension. Moksha’s special gift was shown by her ability to create magical butterflies. Oh so many butterflies. We were grateful she wasn’t obsessed with My Little Pony or unicorns.

The costumes would have looked great as sketches but some of them didn’t work as something an actor had to be able to move freely in. Poor Lakshmi Manchu must have developed thighs of steel as she had to power up the steps to Irendri’s throne dragging metres of fabric that we could see was catching or getting stuck.  Some of her outfits were just insane, particularly the shoulder details which were of epic proportions.

Sid’s outfits seemed to be a cross between leftovers from Mu Lan, a bit of D’Artagnan and a dash of Joseph’s Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat. And while some costumes were really beautiful, some of the outfits Sid and Shruti had to wear were just plain fugly. There were too many fabrics cobbled together, too many ruffles and frills, and again the feeling the costume was wearing them.

The final confrontation between good and evil occurs during a lunar eclipse and culminates in a fight between Yodha and Irendri – who morphs into a giant medusa squid. Well actually she seems to be multiple snakes joined together but the effect is squid like. Sid performs some amazing stunts and acrobatics, the lighting is moody and effective, and then we have to wait for ages as the CGI team show off their monster before the fight starts up again. It was strangely boring despite Sid clearly giving it his all. We both thought of the scene in Magadheera where Bhairava has to kill 100 men – We knew already how his character would die, we knew it was riddled with special effects (not all of them great) and we knew it was just plain impossible and yet that was edge of the seat stuff because of the editing, the music and the implacable pace. In contrast, this was unexpectedly pedestrian and didn’t get any emotional response from us. We did have ample time to notice that the medusa squid was frequently shot from what can only described as an upskirting angle (albeit there was no skirt).

So what were the successes?

Good performances by a charismatic cast (although we don’t really get all the fuss about Baby Harshita) who did all they could with a script that was lacking. Sid was charming and easily handled the comedy skits, the romance and the action sequences. Lakshmi Manchu made Irendri evil and despicable – a proper cartoon villain and a near relative of the evil queen in Snow White. Shruti was decorative and enigmatic, and had great chemistry with Sid.

The hair snake. Irendri would occasionally take a (fully clothed) bath in blood or venom or something and consult an entity called Sarpini who happened to manifest as a snake made of Irendri’s hair. This magical snake also created its own tiara and other accessories as it spouted prophecies of doom. It worked well as a piece of animation and suited the medusa theme. Irendri’s designers really used the snake imagery well, and added lots of serpentine detail to her lair and her costumes.

Ali in drag. Who knew? Well he did a very good Carmen Miranda fruit bowl hat, and fetching nipple enhancing propellers that picked up speed when he was near Sid (you can catch a glimpse in the theatrical trailer). We liked his mermaid ensemble a lot.

The soundtrack worked well as a soundtrack, and the few songs are not really outstanding. Yodha has his own heroic theme, and that generally works although the 80s power guitar version was a bit incongruous.

Fabric. This film is one for the textile fanciers. And there is lots of sparkle.

With a lot more editing of the screenplay, a little restructuring of some scenes, and a decision as to whether they are aiming at kids or adults, this could be great. As it is, it’s a bit too dark to be a kids film, not substantial enough to be a grown up epic and just ends up being a bit wishy washy. The audience jeered at the songs, laughed at some of the dialogues, and as always Brahmi got the biggest cheer.