Sneham Kosam

K.S Ravikumar’s film gives us double the Chiranjeevi in an outstanding dual role performance, and about three times the plot of a normal film. There is a lot going on in this convoluted tale of family strife and the meaning of friendship. The last 20 or 30 minutes alone has enough revenge, melodrama, blood, sweat, and tears for any average film. Warning: some spoilers ahead.

Chinnayya (Chiranjeevi) is the valued servant of the landlord Peddayya (Vijayakumar). Chinnayya is bossy and dramatic, as is the landlord. They have a warm relationship and the other servants enjoy their regular tiffs. Peddayya has cut off his daughter Gowri (Sithara) and son-in-law Peddabbayi (Prakash Raj) although it’s clear Gowri wants to reconcile and she tries over and over. When his youngest daughter Prabhavati (Meena) comes home, she also wants the family reunited but she has a different method in mind. She sets her cap at Chinnayya, and sets him up for an accusation of rape. Having kicked him out of the house her true feelings become clear. She blames him for the separation of her father and sister, and cannot stand to see him living comfortably in a home he ruined. And then Simhadri (also Chiru) returns after doing time for killing Prabha’s mother. Peddayya is delighted to see his old friend, the servants seem cautiously accepting, but both Chinnayya and the girls furiously reject him.

I love Chiranjeevi’s acting in both roles but I really do not like the decision making in this film. I don’t think there is a single significant life choice made that didn’t have me muttering “oh come on, you’ve got to be kidding”. Anyway, back to the plot. Simhadri took the blame for Lakshmi’s murder so as not to make Gowri the wife of a murderer. Because it is better to be married to a murderous weasel than it is to be divorced, widowed, or single? Eventually justice must be served and it is, in spades.

The Megastar stamp is all over the opening credits, but Chiru is in actor mode and delivers excellent characterisation as well as buckets of tears and adrenalin.

Chinnayya is a more typical hero role for him, and he breezes through the fights, the dances, and all the shenanigans. But there are emotional currents that run deep, and when Chinnayya confronts Prabha over her scheme to ruin him, Chiranjeevi blazes with fury.

Simhadri is both intensely lovable and kind of infuriating. He sacrifices everything for his landlord boss, everything, but never shows anger or resentment. I believed absolutely that Simhadri would do anything for his beloved friend and boss, but I didn’t need so much of the “he is our god-like benefactor, we’re nothing without him” hand-wringing over the master servant relationship. Regardless, Simhadri is such a vivid and quietly commanding presence. His feeling of guilt and responsibility was misplaced but achingly raw, and those Mega Eyes conveyed volumes. The scene where he had to sneak a glance at Chinnayya via a mirror just to see his son’s face could have been ridiculous but it works because of Chiranjeevi. I liked Chiranjeevi’s use of similar but subtly altered mannerisms and posture to convey both the resemblance and the differences. Chiru’s expression is softer and more world-weary as the father, and while Chinnayya is a chip off the old block he doesn’t have quite the same substance. And when you get Chiru emoting at Chiru, it’s just too too good.

While this is Chiranjeevi’s film, I liked that other characters were given some depth and development. Prabhavati is a bit of a nutter, and has minimal self-control when it comes to getting what she wants. She wants it NOW. Meena is screechy at times but when she needs to command attention, she does it despite all the macho chest beating going on around her. I found Prabhavati too neurotic and impulsive to be relatable but I felt the conviction in the performance. Her teary declaration that since she had no mother she wanted to be her sister’s daughter was both moving and mind-boggling. Her duplicity was breath-taking and audacious in execution. She was no passive victim, although she had been sadly misled. Meena’s rapport with Chiranjeevi was patchy but that was befitting this half fake half real love hate thing going on. They were a good match in terms of energy and commitment to the role, both in the fun scenes and the more intense moments.

And while I don’t concur with the sentiment that a man with laser eyes who can make another man’s head explode into flames is necessarily ideal husband material, her imagination was fertile and that can help a girl through some bad times.

Sithara starts out as a wet rag, crying all over the place, but in the flashbacks and the post revelation scenes she gives Gowri some spirit. Poor Gowri got a raw deal on pretty much everything. Her husband was a rat, her father disowned her for no good reason other than the rat, and she had no idea of the truth. But I liked that she kept trying to mend fences, even though she couldn’t work out what was really wrong. She was persistent and resilient. And finally, she chose doing the right thing over supporting her husband.

Vijayakumar as Peddayya is the other pillar of the drama. His petulance and dramatic flouncing is tempered by the respect and loyalty he shows his friend Simhadri and the boy Chinnayya. He genuinely treats Simhadri as a mate, scandalising his servant with hospitality and unselfconscious affection. There is not a lot of subtlety in the drama but Vijayakumar draws out some strong emotion, especially in his scenes with Chiru and with Sithara. I just couldn’t get past his willingness to let Simhadri take the fall, and also to lie to his daughter and then disown her partly because of that lie.

But his character solved most disputes with Simhadri with a song and a tickle fight so he’s not all bad.

Prakash Raj is so slimy and craven, I was itching to slap him and frequently booed as he weaselled his way around. He gives a great performance as a horrible person. Peddabbayi prefers to wheedle his way out of trouble but if that doesn’t work he flies into a rage. I’m glad they cast a good character actor in this role as if they’d gone for a comedy uncle villain, it would have sapped a lot of the energy from the quite exhausting climax.

The support cast is loaded up with comedy uncles but they are low key and their characters serve some purpose. Brahmanandam is effective as Prakash Raj’s nasty sidekick with minimal gratuitous comedy uncle shtick. MS Narayana, Babu Mohan, and Kota Srinivasa Rao are among the more heavily featured household staff and like Brahmi, are comparatively restrained. Nirmalamma is cheeky as Simhadri’s gambler mother. Sujatha makes an impression in her few scenes as the much loved and lamented Lakshmi. And poor whatsisname who played Chinnababu made it seem he may have taken after his older brother but was actually a decent boy, left devastated and jilted at the altar.

The film looks beautiful, and the few special effects are used wisely. And I think they employed all the camels in Rajasthan for one day. While it probably could do with a more assertive edit, I really enjoy almost every moment of the film. Unless I get too riled up about Simhadri assuring Gowri’s marriage to a homicidal mongrel and her father’s 15 year temper tantrum.

The Hindi dub is on YouTube with English subs, or you can do what I do and grab those subs for your Telugu copy and tinker with the timing because hearing another voice coming out of Chiru’s face is All Wrong. 4 ½ stars! (A tiny deduction for terrible decision making, and for the director’s cheesy guest appearance, another dodgy decision.)

Big Boss (1995)

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I felt the need to end 2012 watching something with a quick and decisive approach to justice and guaranteed consequences for the baddies. Vijaya Bapineedu’s Big Boss delivers, albeit in a fairly slapdash manner, and is boosted by the presence of Chiranjeevi, Roja and Sujatha in key roles. If you’re not a huge Chiru fan you could just watch the songs. Actually the opening titles almost tell the whole story. If you can tolerate plot holes, enjoy colourful dance numbers, or just like bad wigs and interior designs, this could be quite rewarding.

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Bavaraju Surendra, AKA Basu (Chiranjeevi), is an educated man who chooses revenge over a career. His father was murdered and his brother crippled in an incident many years ago, and Basu has not forgotten. Basu moves to the city to pursue his revenge. He ends up getting caught between opposing crime lords and is vigorously pursued by Roja who has set her cap at him.

Basu rents a room from a local widow (Madhavi) who is related to Roja (I never remember her character’s name). Living in this household allows Basu to see the injustices inflicted on residents of the area. He is the kind of guy who stands up for the defenceless and then berates them for letting one goon intimidate dozens of them. He has difficult relationships with his mother Thulasi (Sujatha) and sister Sumathi, and they don’t automatically accept he is right just because he is a bloke.

Chiru is mostly in action hero mode but the role does give him some sentimental moments with his ma, some silly mugging and slapstick with Roja and a bit of speechifying and social consciousness raising. It’s a tailor made package, right down to a running gag with Johnny (Ali) who believes Chiranjeevi is really Chiranjeevi.

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Thulasi reminds Basu of her dreams for the family, and won’t accept his decision to turn vigilante. When he takes her back to the old mansion she thanks him for returning her to the Hell she had escaped. Sujatha has little dialogue but a strong presence and her reactions and expressions are really effective. I wasn’t expecting a subtle filmi Ma but she is really lovely.

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Roja has the most peculiar wardrobe. I think the outfits are meant to be ‘modern’ and also represent her mental age of 9. She is constantly reprimanded by her grandmother (Nirmalamma) for not being able to tell the difference between flower and leaf and she does indeed seem a bit dim. She is all over Basu like white on rice and he just finds her irritating if not insane. Who can blame him?

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Rarely do I agree with the filmi advice to pop on a sari and you’ll snag a husband, but it really was a relief to see the end of the fruit hat.

Despite the horrors of the costume designs, Roja is at her best in the songs when she escapes her character’s childish habit of squealing. I know this is a remake but it is lots of fun.

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Varadarajulu is a slimy nasty villain, played to the hilt by Kota Srinivasa Rao. With his effete mannerisms and terrible wig he should be comedic, but he has a sadistic streak and a psycho wife in coloured contacts. He is bad news. He killed his father and brother (Basu’s father) with the help of his wife. Ankineedu (Narra Venkateswara Rao) is more sympathetic as crooks go, but his adherence to the mafia code means he is not long for this world.

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The action scenes are many and bloody. The fights are heavily choreographed and while that makes them look less realistic, they are violent. Death takes many forms. If you’re on the wrong side it is Chiru and his trusty matches as he douses the baddies with petrol. The police are corrupt and so are the lawyers. If you can’t get your own justice, forget it.

In a recent discussion with Beth and Sujoy we agreed that none of us understand why people say there is no sex in Indian films. Sex and relationships are clearly a part of this story. Consensual sex between people who like each other is not treated harshly at all. In many films, Roja would have been marked as the bad girl based on her dress, her forwardness, her dream of climbing into bed with Basu (and then telling her grandmother all about it). Grandma seems to have been a bit wild in her youth too. When Madhavi’s blouse is deliberately torn, Ankineedu is furious at his son’s behaviour while Madhavi holds her head high. Varadarajulu’s wife uses sex to lure men into helping her, Sumathi chooses a marriage as a way of escaping what she sees as a useless family. Women behave in a range of different ways and with varying degrees of ‘niceness’, but they have clear goals and feel free to go for them. Only one of those women dies – and as a mini spoiler, it had more to do with being downright evil than expressing desire. Telugu films are hero-centric, but if you watch what is happening on the periphery, sometimes there are interesting things going on.

Mind you, I cannot be certain that generosity is deliberate. Basu’s youngest brother appears to regrow a lost leg late in the film.

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And at the time the father was killed, there were two kids and I don’t think Thulasi was pregnant so I have no explanation for Sumathi. Maybe they just forgot to kill off the bad girls. Details, boring details!

The songs are a viewing highlight, and Bappi Lahiri is quite restrained. The introductory song is Chiru as seen by his fans, and I think it was filmed at an actual Mega Birthday event. Nearly all the picturisations are from Roja’s point of view, and are her fantasies. Roja escaped a bizarre assault in which creepy cop Tanikella Bharani threw a bucket of water over her before tearing her ugly skirt off to reveal an even more hideous dress underneath. Her grandmother had to explain the significance of a rain song. So Roja launched into one of my favourite rain songs, and kindly imagined Chiru tearing his own shirt off. In her dream of crawling into Basu’s bed she tears her blouse.

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After a few double entendres, this song actually makes sense (except the chicken references). I can’t explain the little people or their outfits.

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This isn’t a film that rests on nuanced performances but apart from Chiranjeevi, Roja and Sujatha, I have to say Ali was good. He played a character rather than doing comedy, and when I saw him tied up with a time bomb stuck to his chest, I was sorry. But he IS a comedy uncle so my tears were held at bay. Allu Ramalingaiah has a small role as a deaf yet singing policeman. Tanikella Bharani overacts like his life depends on it. Despite being cartoonish there is a nasty edge to his character although he does redeem himself a little at the end. The assorted That Guys all do their thing and succeeded in being so vile I cheered as each was dispatched.

The design teams were unfettered by practical considerations or good taste. Is that a kangaroo statue I spy?

And the costume team shared the love.

The climax fight took place in a masala death trap (complete with giant gas cooker thingie) and a godown filled with rooms of things that look cool when they break. Divine intervention, Megastar powers – whatever the reason, the bad guys got their just deserts.

One for the Chiru fans. 3 ½  stars (extra for the dancing)

Subhalekha

Once again, dodgy VCD quality and no subtitles mean that I have probably made up a lot of the story. But it is the characters (and actors) who made Subhalekha so enjoyable for me, not just the plot.

It’s a K. Viswanath film, so there is a message. In this case it is dowry, shown in this film as an outdated and bad practice. This is illustrated through montages of newspaper stories as well as incidents in the story. He targets men in particular castes and professions and their demands for a high price, particularly when they have no financial need. But he doesn’t go completely filmi and say love is all you need. Arranged marriage is not the issue – it’s the financial pressure of high dowry demands that can cause massive debt and stress on families. The relationships in the film develop in a believable way (well, most of them), and it seems that the marriages based on mutual respect and affection will probably work out. There is also some very nice character based humour to enliven the story, and I really enjoyed it.

Murthi (Chiranjeevi) is a waiter at a big hotel. He is naturally helpful and generous but not a push over. Unless the one menacing him is a dog. I’ve noticed something in a few Telugu films now – the overdubbing of animals by what is clearly a guy in a studio saying ‘Raaargh’. But don’t take my word for it.

Chiru dances his way to safety, catching the eye of Rao (Arun), an industrialist staying at the hotel. As a result, Rao casts Murthi as the hero of an advert for Allwyn fridges. This clip shows Chiru’s experiments in various classical dance styles, and is that ad within the film.

I like the exuberance, the vague attempt at accuracy and the expression on Chiru’s face throughout. I just love watching him dance. I laughed a lot in one scene when a lady in the bank started babbling over the ‘lovely, beautiful, wonderful’ Allwyn Hero when he came in to cash a cheque.

That would be me! And I’d totally buy that fridge.

Murthi exudes music and energy, singing his way through the day and even using song as conversation. He seems to be reasonably educated and working as a waiter was probably not his dream, but he does it well and picks up on opportunities. He deals with family problems, negotiates corrupt officialdom and is an everyman. Chiranjeevi gives Murthi a genial and easy going charm, with glimpses of the pride and self confidence that keep him going. That earnest vulnerability is worlds away from the mass hero style, and so endearing.

Also in the bank and checking Murthi out is Sujatha (Sumalatha). She is a serious young lady, a college lecturer, not a glossy glam heroine. She is due to be married to Mohan (Girish). The wedding negotiations stall over dowry. Her intended is from a rich family and has no need of money. Her father is forced to agree to the price, but Sujatha delivers a dressing down to prospective father-in-law Adisseshaya (Kaikala Satyanarayana) and the marriage is off. I really liked Sumalatha in Khaidi and she is impressive in this role too.  While being primped for her meeting with Mohan she brushes off her sister saying she wants to be what she is. Sujatha is resourceful, copes with setbacks and sometimes needs help, and is never a doormat. She and Chiranjeevi make a good couple, and I really liked their little disagreements and playful scenes.

Sujatha is sacked from her job and her parents throw her out when they decide she is having an affair with Murthi. Murthi is delighted she stood up for herself against the politician who refused to help his family. So he helps her find accommodation and they live in an idyllic version of poverty, with him acting as Sujatha’s household help. After insulting Adisseshaya, Murthi also loses his job, copping a beating along the way. Murthi uses his connections with Rao to get them both jobs – they never just give up. He might look after Sujatha, but she is an independent woman with her own earnings and a sense of worth. Murthi wants to see her settled, so approaches Rao who agrees to marry Sujatha. All this despite me knowing that Murthi loves her and she loves him. But I had faith it would all be set to rights.

It isn’t just the central couple that have their moments. Sujatha’s sister Lakshmi (Tulasi) is an impulsive and extroverted girl. She spots the ultra groovy Murali (‘Subhalekha’ Sudhakar), Adisseshaya’s other son – really, how could you miss him in those trousers? She is smitten and he cannot resist. They are mostly a comedy diversion, but since their antics are actually moving the plot along I quite liked them. Plus Murali’s dance moves are just hilarious (as is the decor in his room). Even though the sight of him made me giggle, Murali is a strong willed young man and sticks to his guns. Murali and Lakshmi conspire to prove a point and sort their families out, showing surprising sneakiness. I dither between thinking they are perfect for each other and wondering what will happen when disco dies or their hormones settle. But I enjoyed most of their scenes and thought they both had fun with their characters.

Mohan –the original groom for Sujatha – also has a surprise for his dad. While everyone was running around like headless chickens, he went and got married to Murthi’s sister. He did what he thought was right, and avoided his father’s veto by not asking for permission. The younger generation in the film are educated and have opportunities, so they are able to challenge outmoded practices.

The film is firmly anchored in realism and there is very little glamour or fancy apart from the characters’ own mild daydreams. The houses, workplaces and clothes all seem appropriate and not too new. There are nice interior details, and someone in the hotel had a thing for feature walls. The humour is integrated into the story and characters and there is little pointless comedic shtick. When Murthi returns to his village, he sees a line of people outside his home, and suspects something bad has happened. But they are only lining up for food his grandmother (Nirmalamma) is giving out. The scene unfolds beautifully with tears, overacting, and laughs, showing Murthi at home and his relationship with his family. Rallapalli and Allu Ramalingaiah have smallish roles but provide good foils for Murali and Murthi. I really liked the way the story plays out, and how the different characters all come back into the picture at the end.

KV Mahadevan’s music is pleasant. I never wanted to fast forward through the songs but I really can’t recall any individual melodies. This is not a big song and dance type of movie and the music does match the story and mood. I can only assume the lyrics also reflected what was going on.

This is such a restrained and well judged film I had to check again that it was indeed the same director that made the far less sensible Aapathbandhavudu! The last few minutes lost me a little as the story was resolved by booming voiceover while the action continued. I would have preferred letting the characters do the talking, but it is a satisfying film.

See it for a nicely balanced romance with a social message and of course for the excellent Chiranjeevi. 4 ½ stars! (A small deduction for the dire picture quality which annoyed me greatly).

Heather says:

Right from the very opening scene Subhalekha is a mesmerising film and surely only Chiranjeevi could make a small incident with a dog into such an entrancing piece of cinema. The story flows smoothly from one scene to the other and despite my very poor quality VCD copy, the quality of the film editing stands out. It’s very disappointing that Subhalekha isn’t available with subtitles, as although the basic story is relatively easy to follow, I am sure that I missed so much from not understanding the dialogues. There are quite a few long speeches where, although the general idea comes across due to the way the character speaks, it’s very frustrating not to know the details, especially since everything points to the dialogues being well written.

Chiranjeevi is excellent as the faithful and kind-hearted Murthi but Sumalatha puts in just as strong a performance. I found her scenes when she defies her prospective father in law gripping, despite the fact that I didn’t understanding a word! As much as I enjoyed the developing relationship between Murthi and Sujatha, the romance between Sujatha’s younger sister Lakshmi and Mohan’s brother Murali was easier to understand and probably for that reason their interactions were some of my favourite moments in the film. With his snazzy clothes and the huge over-sized glasses, so typical of the times, ‘Subhalekha’ Sudhakar was perfect in his role as the hip and trendy younger brother, and Tulasi was lovely as the rather feisty and adventurous Lakshmi. I also appreciated the quarrels between Murali and his father, and the declarative way Murali ended every argument with “I love her!” made me grin every time. I enjoyed all of the songs in this film, but my favourite was one pictured on Lakshmi and Murali as they cavorted around on the beach. It was only just overshadowed by Chiru’s excellent fridge advertising which was brilliant but not quite long enough for me. Just a little Chiru classical dance is never enough and I wanted more!

Films with a social message can often end up with too much preaching and not enough actual story, but that certainly isn’t the case here. The characters all seem to have genuine reasons for acting the way they do, even Adisseshaya is following convention rather than just being difficult and greedy (although of course he is that too), and it is all feels true to life. I do wish though that more discussions in real life could be held in the form of song in the way that Murthi communicates here.

This is such an excellent film that I am amazed it hasn’t been restored and re-released with subtitles. Despite the often poor quality of the VCD, Subhalekha is well worth a watch for some great performances and a well told story. Plus of course no-one does shy and bashful as well as Chiru! 4 ½ stars.