Mainstream Indian filmmakers are generally “inspired” by the premises and plots of foreign-language films. Lijo Pellissery doesn’t flick any story; he just tries, very hard and unsuccessfully, to replicate the stylization and treatment of the original City of God.
Handheld cameras are used throughout. The film opens with a reddish cast for the day shots and a bluish cast for the night shots. Then, the toilets, and the folks in them, turn blue in the day. And before you know it, irrespective of the time, place, or situation, the canvas is bathed in a variety of color hues, from vomit greens to yellows.
The jump cuts are neat. But far from the hyper-excited pace depicted on the screen, the real life Cochin, where the action is supposedly set, is a rather quiet, peaceful, and chilled-out place where people move about in ultra-slow-motion.
There isn’t much of a plot; instead, there are three frivolous threads, involving some raw characters presented in a nonlinear manner.
I wouldn’t be surprised if I hear that Prithviraj Sukumaran did the majority of his dialogue scenes in single takes; perhaps, too, he wasn’t required to spend time on rehearsals. The actor has a long way to go in his career, and would do well, in future, to chose good characters, and films with substance, to ensure that his fans aren’t let down. Indrajith may not have the star qualities of his elder brother, but proves that he has the potential to assume much bigger roles and a variety of characters. Parvathi Menon, covered with makeup and garbed as a Tamil rural woman, announces, albeit, subtly, the arrival of an actress that ought to be taken a lot more seriously.
For no apparent reason, Prithviraj runs for his life when faced with an armed gang in a closed place where he could easily have taken them on one at a time, but later confronts an armed gang boldly in the open. He also swings a fire hose more convincingly than he does with an urumi (a spring sword) in a previous film. The stunts look real, in particular, for two good reasons: handheld cameras offer more freedom of movement; and they have also come to be associated with the art of realism.
The documentary style of filmmaking is a school all by itself. It would have helped immensely had the makers of this film learned and followed at least two of its strict rules, namely, that the camera be placed at a fixed spot from time to time, to give the spectators’ eyes some much needed rest, and that when holding the camera, it ought not to be shaken unnaturally like the cameraperson is hell-bent on giving their audience a massive headache. In the hands of disciplined filmmakers, the results are usually wondrous. But employed by clueless, phony imitators, it has resulted in a ridiculous product.
