Prasthanam Review

Politics, family feuds, goondas, drugs, love, fights, Prasthanam's got it all! But, let's face it, mostly politics. And broken families.

You get sucked into the imagery of this Telugu movie right from the opening shots: an old orange-hued house that breathes heavily with memories and a man walking around it. What happened to this house and the people in it is then shown in a black and white sequence. I appreciated the symbolism of the truck burning with orange flames over the black and white background, making the connection between the past and the present, a connection sewn with hate and revenge that seem to keep feeding the fire to this day.

The movie gets very confusing when it moves to the present time though. Forget figuring out who was campaigning against whom, I couldn't even figure out who was whose brother!! Sheesh! And let's not even go to the sisters, sister-in-laws and future wives, or any combination of the above.

Even so, some of the dialogues are so hysterical that they make you forget all about who was whose brother and sister. Like this one:
Hero: "These are your friends? They look more like belly dancers."
Heroine slaps hero's friend: "If you have no fashion sense, keep your mouth shut!"
Hero's friend: "Bin Laden attacked and Saddam got bombed! He made a comment and you thrashed me??"

I have to remember this one! I like it! As I liked pretty much all the banter between the hero and the heroine, some damn good chemistry there. Too little of it unfortunately...

Another random thing I really liked was that there was a Salvador Dali painting in almost every room of their house. Interesting choice of decor, I approve. I wonder if the Metamorphosis of Narcissus has any symbolic meaning in this particular room... Hm...

Namak: Hey, speaking of random thoughts, notice that on top of the "smoking is injurious to your health" warning at the beginning, they also put in a dialogue about how the son has taken up the bad habit from his father, on account of heroism? I like that, creative and subtle, it talks to the parents as much as it talks to the kids.

Dolce: Yeah, but it hardly gets the point across. This Sharvanand is second only to Mahesh Babu in terms of looking extra cool with a smoking tube in his mouth, so I don't know about other kids, but that dialogue would never work to prevent me from picking up the habit... Now excuse me, I need to focus on the hotness of that bearded look on Sharvanand.

Namak: Right, of course you do. Well, to be fair, he seems to have grown some acting skills too, along with that beard, so I won't complain too much about this new crush. (Though I would much prefer him silent, if I may be honest, he takes it away for one of the most annoying voices after Tabu.)

It's not just Sharvanand that does justice to his role, the rest of the cast is quite capable as well. And with well etched characters like these, you know you have a good movie in your hands.

The relationship between the two brothers in particular is worth a mention. Maybe it's because I am always interested in a good Cain and Abel type of setting, but I found their motivations and reactions to be the most fascinating: jealousy, love, indulgence, entitlement, respect, envy, guilt, each emotion comes into play at the right time and both actors showcase them efficiently. And they are all fueled by the parents' behaviour, almost as if the brothers had no choice but to grow up feeling the way they do. As their final confrontation approaches, you forget about breathing and sipping on your drink, and your muscles tense up because Abel has grown so much on you that you want no blood on his hands. And yet your sense of justice tells you... there should be no safeguarding Mark for this Cain.

Titian - Cain and Abel - one of my favorite illustrations of this scene

Then of course, for good measure, and to make sure the movie doesn't walk away with a perfect 10 for script and execution, there are also moments like this...

Namak: Did he... wait... did he just slap the bad guy with his sandal while screaming: "You're going to get cancer! Get cancer! Get cancer!"? That's just... hilarious!

Dolce: Um... I'm trying to find some justification for that one, but sorry, I got nothing.

Whaaaat???

[ETA: Bharath, a Telugu speaker, informs me (thankfully!) that the  English subtitles don't really do justice to this dialogue, so take it with a grain of salt.]


And while on the topic of wtf moments, for anyone who has yet to watch the film, I would strongly suggest watching this song first, and skipping it when it comes up in the second half of the movie. It's a cool song that suffers from the worst placement in recent history. Better watched separately, in my humble opinion.



Comic relief aside, parts of the film reminded me a lot of Raajneeti, to the point where I kept expecting Nana Patekar's sly smile to appear out of nowhere, but that could be because I just saw him in another movie and remembered how much I love that man. Speaking of Raajneeti, Prasthanam somehow manages to appear more realistic, and it's not because there are less people murdered with no consequences for the butchers (if anything, there are more killings, just better spaced out), but because the film is set up in such a way as to make that seem integrated in the characters' lifestyle. Had Raajneeti built on a similar set-up from the beginning instead of doing that 180 turn in the middle of the movie, I bet no one would have had any problems with the bloodbath in the second half of the film. Of course, I mean that cinematically speaking, not ideologically. I found myself having way less moral issues with Mitra than with Samar mostly because he seemed to have been brought up that way, and thrashing people was just ingrained in his personality and to a certain extent his culture, I didn't have to suspend disbelief to buy that side of his character.


Moral issues notwithstanding, Prasthanam also gets very dark around intermission, and unlike the dazzling filmi spectacle that is Raajneeti, this one will turn your stomach upside down with a few very believable scenes. Though it does commit the same sin as Raajneeti by overstaying its welcome. Still, with a few snack breaks and a song or two here and there to break it up, it manages to stay on the interesting side for most of the last hour. Especially since there's another black and white twist to the tale. Than than thaaaan!...

Hah! I haven't done a cheese rating in so long, I may have gotten rusty at it. Let's see... Prasthanam is like... Parmigiano-Reggiano. It's harsh and rough, and it won't cooperate when you try to cut it to size. But if you let it have its way, it's sure to make it into more than one dish on your table, as it has something to entice every taste. It may remind you of other cheeses, but the unmistakable flavour will ensure it holds on to its rightful spot in your memory. You may remember the bitterness more than any other taste, but sometimes, that's what makes a cheese, and a movie, special.

"Gamyam" Review

In preparation for their (soon to be released) most expected Telugu movie of the season, “Vedam”, Dolce and Namak watched the director's first movie to get a feel for what to expect.

The story in Gamyam is quite simple: obscenely rich boy (Abhi) who never worked a day in his life meets hard working middle class girl (Janaki), falls in love after seeing her dance (he calls it love at second sight – Dolce would call it love at first dance, a feeling she knows all too well, since a variety of her crushes were born that way) and proceeds to woo her. Here's the lovely unexpected twist: she falls for certain parts of his personality, but ultimately can't come to terms with the Abhi-centric, arrogant side of him and so, prompted by a dramatic accident, she picks up and leaves.

Namak was jumping up and down at this unexpected turn of events, as Indian girls in movies are generally not very decisive that way and they tend to stick around and try to change things or suffer in silence rather than take a matter into their own hands and just say: “enough!” Meanwhile Dolce was, not surprisingly, too taken in by the charm of the main lead to notice such unessential points.

Namak: “He's not a particularly good actor this Sharvanand I see mostly two expressions on his face: brooding (and entitled during much of the first half), or romantic come-hither smile”

Dolce: “I think he's pretty good.”

Namak: “He has potential, sure, but he's not very versatile when it comes to emoting”

Dolce: “Isn't he so cute though?”

Namak: “Wha-- God, I can't have a reasonable argument with you, can I?”

To illustrate the come hither look:


Alright, forget the main leads, this is a lost cause. As Namak sinks back into her seat after this exchange of “opinions” she starts to get excited about the storytelling in general. The movie goes back an forth effortlessly between revealing new pages of the relationship between Abhi and Janaki ultimately reaching the events that led to their fallout, and Abhi's current journey across many villages, and interesting characters in search of Janaki. Though she does find the ubiquity of the story's message just a tad irritating.

Namak leaning towards Dolce about three quarters into the movie: “So wait, what was the message of the movie again?”

Dolce: “Shut up, I'm trying to watch this”.

Namak: “Oh, never mind, there it is again. 'I know that he's a thief, but you don't know that he's also a human being'. I could have sworn they made that point barely 10 minutes ago about the theatre dancer", she notes sarcastically.

Dolce: “Shh!”

Namak: “Don't worry, it's not like you can actually miss anything important: they are sure to repeat it in another 15 minutes.”

Now Namak is just being picky. To be honest she doesn't really mind it because, repetition notwithstanding, the movie does have a great message, one that can never be stressed enough in a self centered society such as our own: you'll never get to understand the real world if you're only looking at it through the car window. School can only take you so far, you need to go out and experience life first hand, and see that the real world is made up of imperfect human beings that even in the darkest places have the ability to learn and the power to love.

There are some other charming moments that stay with you, such as Janaki's dance, the “well deserved slap”, the character of Gaali Seenu, beautiful simple images - almost photographs - of real human beings living their real lives... everything comes together on an enchanted canvas painting the director's genuine love for people. And speaking of love, some cool comments on that as well, such as the three kinds of love: love's effects last for 2 months, big love's effects will last 2 years, great love however will change your whole life. Wise words, wise words indeed!

The "Thousand Hands" Dance:


Sadly, the movie falls short on script and performances at the end. I expected the journey to come full circle in a more subtle way, I expected the best performances to come out of these actors in the final scenes. Not so. And that brings my expectations back in check for Vedam: the director does not seem to have as good a grasp as I would want him to on restraining an actor's tendency to overact in the big emotional scenes. As a result, even Dolce's fangirl heart sank at the prospect of a similarly powerful scene in Vedam.

Judging it a little harshly maybe? Perhaps... But from me that is a great compliment for a movie: it means it's playing in the big league, and that it's worth pointing out its imperfections because everything else is good enough to compete with the very best.

Gamyam to me was like Shropshire Blue cheese. It has all the ingredients to be an excellent cheese: great aroma, intriguing colour, yet somehow it manages to unexpectedly steer towards the bland because the taste is simply not as strong as it could be. Lovely cheese, I like it, recommend it, and I will pick it over many other equally good cheeses, but I can't help but think that it could be so much more, that it could be truly outstanding. Instead it's... “nice, very nice...”.