Release
date:
|
Kerala: April 27, Delhi: May 4, 2018
|
Director:
|
M. Mohanan
|
Cast:
Language:
|
Vineeth
Sreenivasan, Sreenivasan, Nikhila Vimal, Urvashi, Aju Varghese, Shanthi
Krishna
Malayalam
|
A woman abandons
her child in a famous temple town during Navarathri festivities in the 1990s.
As the little boy desperately searches for her, he is found by Madhavan (played
by Sreenivasan). The mother is nowhere to be seen, and Madhavan takes him under
his roof where the child grows up to be the happy, sociable Aravindan (Vineeth
Sreenivasan), popular among locals and an asset in the small hotel run by his
foster father.
He never stops
waiting for the beloved parent who left him without a word though. And every
year during Navarathri, he mourns her disappearance by refusing to enter the
temple despite joining the community in the rest of their celebrations.
Since parent-child
separations have been dealt with ad nauseum in Indian cinema down the decades,
any film revisiting the theme would have to work doubly hard to make itself
worthwhile. The initial appeal of Aravindante
Athidhikal (Aravindan’s Guests) lies in its slice-of-life texture and tone
(notwithstanding some forced humour), and the close-up it offers of the
goings-on around Mookambika Devi Temple in Kollur, Karnataka. The hustle and
bustle of the pilgrimage centre alone should have been enough to keep it
running, but the film soon strays from its USP in favour of clichés.
Once director M.
Mohanan is done with establishing the atmosphere of the town and introducing us
to a motley crew of potentially charming characters, it becomes clear that he
has only two pre-occupations: one, to introduce a romance between a
good-looking young woman and Aravindan, to establish his hero-worthiness in a
stereotypical sense; and two, to re-unite Aravindan with his mother.
Mohanan does both
in such a lackadaisical, unimaginative fashion, with an extended and silly
smokescreen involving a renowned dancer thrown in, that Aravindante Athidhikal is reduced to a pile of very average,
sentimental mush.
Malayalam
filmmakers really need to get over this self-imposed mandatoriness of a romance
in every male protagonist’s life and the trite manner in which such romances are
portrayed. The second the actor Urvashi emerges from a bus and the camera
pauses, you know a pretty youngster will follow – she does. The moment this
youngster called Varada (Nikhila Vimal) appears, you know she and Aravindan
will fall in love – they do.
Vineeth and Ms
Vimal have zero sparks between them but they are soon smitten. She is shown
noticing his innate goodness, possibly to justify those feelings on her part,
but frankly, there is an inevitability to their emotions since she is clearly
marked out as the designated heroine to his designated hero in this formula.
And the usual track
follows: you know, boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy bugs girl, etc?
As if the
derivative writing by Rajesh Raghavan is not bad enough, there is the fact that
Vineeth Sreenivasan has neither the charisma nor the acting depth to carry an
entire film on his shoulders. His singing is a separate matter altogether. So
it is that Vineeth himself saves Aravindante
Athidhikal with his distinctive voice dominating the all-pervasive
soundtrack by Shaan Rahman. While these numbers are not the best that Rahman
has produced in his career, they are melodic enough and the singing (especially
of Rasathi by Vineeth) haunting
enough to lend an air of sadness to the film where the writing fails.
The ordinariness of
the screenplay is particularly painful because Mohanan has assembled gifted
artistes in his supporting cast. Veterans Sreenivasan and Urvashi are largely
wasted, as is Aju Varghese in the role of Aravindan’s friend. Varghese is one
of Mollywood’s finest comedians when he is not trying to lend coolth and
cuteness to lecherous behaviour. He and Urvashi have their moments here, but
not enough.
Nikhila Vimal’s
screen presence lends more substance to her character than the writing affords.
Shanthi Krishna makes a mark in a cameo that might have been unbearably
melodramatic if it were not for the control she exercises over her histrionics.
Think of what might
have been if Aravindante Athidhikal had
used the mythology of Mookambika Devi as a metaphor against which Aravindan’s
story played out. Or if the writing had thoughtfully referenced Madhavan’s
Communist ideals in this profoundly Hindu setting. Or if it had dwelt at length
on the bond between a fond old man and an orphan masking his heartbreak at the
memory of his mother. Or what fun could have been had in full-length face-offs
between Varghese and Urvashi who, when at her best, has the ability to tickle
the funny bone like few others can. Wishful thinking, as it turns out.
Even the
cinematography by Swaroop Philip does not fully capture the magnificence of
Kollur or the Souparnika river that runs through it or the temple. Barring a
few interesting frames here and there, the camerawork appears constrained for
the most part.
Philip’s best shots
are reserved for a scene at a tiny temple on a mountaintop where Adi Shankara
is said to have prayed, but there the direction and writing let him down. I
could not help but wonder how that scene would have turned out in the hands of
director Venu in the mood he was in when he made Carbon last year, or Mohanan himself
back when he made his directorial debut with the heartwarming Katha Parayumbol (2007).
No doubt Mohanan
means well here too, but Aravindante Athidhikal’s lack of inventiveness gives it a dated
feel that is redeemed somewhat by the music. To be fair, the film is not
unpleasant. It is simply plain.
Rating
(out of five stars): *1/2
CBFC Rating (India):
|
U
|
Running time:
|
122 minutes
|
This review has also been published on Firstpost:
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