Showing posts with label Vedam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vedam. Show all posts

Monday, July 16, 2012

Vedam Review

Vedam for me was one of those filmi film experiences that one never forgets. I had pestered the Toronto distributor for this film so much that the moment it arrived in a theatre here (two weeks after the release), he called me to let me know. Funny thing is, I had never met him but he knew who I was (probably from the Varudu screening where my friend and I were the only two goris, which attracted a ton of attention). When I got to the theatre for a Sunday morning screening, several people escorted me to my seat. I felt like such a rockstar.

But as always with Telugu movies, there were no subtitles, so at the time I decided to wait with my review until I had seen it with subs because I've learned over the years that the most awesome looking films can have the dumbest dialogues, so the saying about judging a book by its cover really applies most of the times.


The film follows the inter-weaved stories of:
- Cable Raju (Allu Arjun), a slum cable provider whose goal is to marry a rich girl
- Vivek (Manchu Manoj), a rock band singer looking to make it big in Hyderabad with his band
- Saroja (Anushka Shetty), a prostitute trying to move on to bigger business
- Ramulu (Nagayya), a weaver who owes money to the local gangster
- Khureshi (Manoj Bajpay, always a joy to watch), a Muslim man whose wife's unborn twins get killed in a religious incident.
All five stories come together in the end during a terrorist attack.

Namak: Boy, am I glad we had no subs for the first song in the theatre. We really should have turned them off on the DVD too.

Dolce: I'm sure they're not that bad in the original form.
Namak: But it's not just the lyrics, the picturization is atrocious as well.
Dolce: Heh, not every movie is a Rockstar, you know. Besides, what do we know about metal bands in Bangalore, maybe they all practice in huge empty warehouses and pose for imaginary photoshoots while singing and being all badass, smoking on the "sets" and other such acts of rebellion.

Namak: Ha! Or maybe the only reason why this song even exists is to make sure everyone got a song.
Dolce: Speaking of songs---
Namak: Yeah... I know. I know. How sexy and awesome is Prapancham?


Dolce: Possibly my favourite moves from Arjun, despite really loving a lot of his other songs. There's something uber-sexy in this one, and it's not just the fact that he wears his jeans "street-dancing style".
Namak: To show how gangsta' he is, yo!
Dolce: Shut up, you know you watched this song on repeat before writing this review.

Jokes aside, it is rather neat that almost every character intro is done through a song. Even the old man Ramulu is introduced to the rhythmic beats of the silk machine and the poem recited by his grandson. It's not an easy story to tell, with 5 different tracks eventually merging together in the end, but because of how different their environments are and because of how unique each character is, I was never confused. The ample intros really helped with that. 

In the beginning of the film the theme connecting everyone is escape: everyone is looking to get out of their current situation and build a better future for themselves (through money, fame or just respect). Krish seems to like ragging on that stereotype, it was a running theme in his first film as well, Gamyam. Which is fine, it's a good message to pass on, and it's cleverly used in this film because as the money or gold travels from one character to the next we get to really evaluate how deserving they are of it, and also how important it is for us as the viewer to see their problem resolved. I liked that just like the film's characters, I was also forced to choose who should end up with it.


Namak: Quite a few layers of the pyramid of needs here, no? Everything from wanting a rich wife, to wanting an education for your children, to starting a new business.
Dolce: Needs and wants. Old Ramulu's plight was really the only valid need. 
Namak: Why just his? When you think about it, his is also more of a want than a need: they're trying to get the money so his grandson can go to school and get an education which will provide a better life. Just because his sacrifice is bigger doesn't make his situation more tragic, emotions aside, of course.
Dolce: Well, if you look at it like that, anything other than the need for food is a "nice-to-have". How is Raju's situation then different from Ramulu's? He just wants a better life. And the persecuted Khureshi? He doesn't need to leave, he wants to.
Namak: That's just it, it's hard to draw the line. Who has the bigger need and who is more deserving. Which is probably what the movie was trying to say too, in giving us all these different scenarios. In the end, everyone earns their right to happiness, whatever that happy may be.


But there's more than one theme in Vedam, and another one that comes up in every story is religion. As much as I disliked the rock-band's entire story (including the obnoxiousness of Vivek's character, though there is a point to it in the end), they had a couple of good dialogues about humanity, thinking bigger than themselves and also, about how religion only divides because people don't "speak the same language". I found that track to be the most rushed and poorly established, but if more time had been spent on it, it could have been the best one. I'm always happy to see young people who successfully blend universal values such as compassion and tolerance with unorthodox lifestyles and I thought Lasya, Vivek's love-interest, really nailed that combo despite having only a few small scenes. It's too bad so much screentime had to be spent on Manoj Manchu's singing, but such is the filmi world we live in... it's all about the heroes.


But ultimately Vedam is a movie about sacrifice and humanity. It's a movie about how heroes are made in a world that is neither selfless, nor fair. And it's about those very rare moments when one realizes that being self-absorbed is an even bigger sin than stealing or lying. Sure, Vedam puts it in a very idealistic set-up, but hey, what's life without a little hyperbole?


Krish always seems to do well with visuals in his films, though song picturizations are not his forte. But he has an eye for atmospheric moments and snapshots that tell their own stories. The colony in which Raju conducts his illicit cable business got some of the coolest shots, though Saroja's brothel is a close second. Krish is almost as good with brothels as Sanjay Leela Bhansali. Uh... no pun intended, of course.



And because Allu Arjun was the main reason for me to even see this movie, can't leave without a word about him. The first time I watched Vedam I was convinced my favourite Arjun moments were his emotional scenes in the hospital. They're still my favourites. But I've added one more: in one of their very few interactions Saroja asks Raju if it's true love between him and the rich girl. His hesitant expression: part guilt, part conviction, part self-doubt... as if it was the first time he had to ask himself that question... Brilliant.

It's not that Vedam is a perfect film, it's not. It tries too hard in many places and stretches plausibility. And it has less than mediocre music. But it's also full of perfect little moments and imperfect little characters that win your heart. It may have taken the DVD a long time to come out, but it's one that was well worth the wait. Now excuse me while I go watch that wicked song again. Another 50 times.

Vedam (2011, Telugu)
Director: Krish
Starring: Allu Arjun, Manchu Manoj, Anushka Shetty, Nagayya, Manoj Bajpai
Music: MM Keeravani

Thursday, May 27, 2010

"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...”.