“Kudaikkull Mazhai”

 

A few months ago, when I spoke with Parthiban about “Kudaikkull Mazhai,” he said that the only word that would convincingly describe his film was “abstract.”  ‘Abstract,’ for sure, is one of them.  “Brilliant” and “Daring” are the others.  In taking a deceptively simplistic story, the master of “different” cinema takes the audience for a hypnotic journey into the disturbed mind of an individual whose notion of love is an indefinable mix of recklessness and divinity.  While this description might raise visions of Kamal Haasan’s “Guna,” the reader, after watching “Kudaikkull Mazhai” will be convinced that Parthiban waltzes into entirely different, darker corners of the human psyche.  The result is a haunting experience where the sounds, images, dialogues and expressions linger in our hearts for a long time.

 

“Kudaikkull Mazhai” is the story of…no, let me correct myself.  “Kudaikkull Mazhai” is an opening into the soul of Venkatakrishnan, an auto-driver, who falls prey to the advances of a TV anchor (Madhumitha), whose intentions aren’t as noble or sincere as what her behavior suggests.  When she reveals her true intentions, Venkat is shattered.  His life spirals out of control, moving with inexorable momentum into the darkness of his own world, an alternate reality where he makes his rules, where his heart drives his actions and his soul fights his inner demons and yearns for redemption…

If the previous paragraph raised questions instead of providing an explanation, then I think I’ve done my job as a person ‘reviewing’ this movie!  This film is not a love story in the traditional sense of the term.  In Parthiban’s words, it is an “abstract” expression of love.  There is a scene in the second half where Venkat says, “I don’t need you as a person, to love you.”  The profundity and philosophical implications of this line are summarized beautifully by Parthiban in one of his Kirukkallgalls—Uruvam Thavirthu Unara Thodangu…Kaadhalo…Kadavulo.  This is not exactly the “theme” of the movie; it is more of a quest for the protagonist.  A yearning for something long lost, that he attempts to infuse life with.  That he tries to define in a way that cannot be defined; something incorporeal for which he tries to give a form…

 

Let me confess—I have no idea what I am talking about!  But if a movie is capable of evoking such a freewheeling response, then I hope that that by itself should goad the reader into checking it out.

Now to the more concrete aspects of the film that help the creator bring the “abstract” work in front of our eyes:

 

I had always thought of Parthiban, the director, as someone who relies heavily on Parthiban, the scriptwriter.  But he revealed a new facet of his direction in “Ivan” where his romance with Soundarya had sweetness, a dreamy nature and an eye for poetry that was seldom seen in his earlier, in-your-face approach to filmmaking.  He outshines the director of “Ivan” here, giving us a series of wondrous scenes where the beautiful images either elicit a smile or a tear…or both!  The ‘Kudaikkull Mazhai’ scene is the first of these but the most brilliant touch comes in the ‘Nila Udayavillai’ scene—the conception, the execution and the acting combine to create a mesmerizing effect on the senses.  Kudos to him!   

 

The reviewer in me wants to talk about some of the minor flaws of the movie but the film as a whole had such a powerful effect that I feel it is unnecessary to fret about incidental things that do not mean much in the context of the daze that Parthiban has us in.  It is with utmost condescension that I ask other reviewers to complain about little things that could’ve possibly ‘distracted’ them from their movie-going experience.

 

For the film to not have sunk under its philosophical weight, it needed top-notch performances to project its ideas.   And it is Parthiban who again shoulders much of the burden here. 

 

He is at his raffish best in the second role of a Singapore-returned twin.  His dialogues are crude and over-the-top but he raises a few big laughs in the few minutes he is onscreen.  The way he announces the intermission is a testimony to his knack for inventive comedy.  But it is as Venkat, the auto-driver, that Parthiban buries his much-beloved persona, to give us a new, almost unfathomable, character.  At a time when multifaceted portrayals are rare, he dares the viewer to follow the character through a series of indescribable mental states.  Right from the moment he falls hook, line and sinker for Madhumitha till the unforgettable finale, he stamps his authority and genius on the every frame he appears in.  Sure, this is hyperbole, predictably coming from a Parthiban fan but I hasten to repeat that this is an entirely new avatar for the actor.  Listen to the way he intonates his lines in the scene where he shows Madhumitha his ‘bouquet.’  Or, the scene where he asks her, “Do you have any cameras to capture my expression, now?”  Or, the scene where he talks to his ‘Mother’ on the phone….or…the list of scenes zooming in and out of my mental focus goes on!  Irrespective of the highlights or the flaws of “Kudaikkull Mazhai” I will take home with me that expression of satisfaction on Parthiban’s face, in the final frame.

 

Madhumitha makes a confident debut, capturing the bubbly TV anchor with unconscious assurance, in the first half.  She also holds her own against her much-senior partner in the complex second half.  She is wonderfully expressive in the scene where she realizes her folly and holds Parthiban’s hands, in a gesture that reflects the character’s guilt and helplessness (A lesser filmmaker would have played it safe by immediately making her fall in love.  Parthiban too, has such scenes here but their meaning, as explained in the last scene, would put to shame the directors of today who follow tried-and-tested formulas for box-office success).  Another debutant whose work belies his inexperience is cameraman B.L. Sanjay.  Not content with capturing the finer nuances of the lead players, Sanjay goes one step further in experimenting with different angles, hitherto unseen in Tamil cinema.  Sometimes, the way he plays with point-of-view, adds a new dimension to the scene, especially when we see the lead character “talking” to people, either on the phone or in person; where we realize that a traditional shot would’ve dampened the effect.  Karthik Raja complements these images with a competent background score.  His “Adiye Kiliye” (penned by Parthiban) is a melodious number, superbly rendered by his illustrious father.

 

A successful climax for a dramatic movie usually manages to achieve two things 1. Provide a knockout emotional punch with great lines of dialogue (“Swarnamukhi”) or a powerful image (“Mahanadhi”). 2. Provide food for rumination.  The concluding frames of “Kudaikkull Mazhai” go beyond achieving these two objectives—they blindside us, altering our perspective of the happenings in the second half (even managing to provide a valid explanation for the seemingly out-of-place Krishnan character) and urging the most discerning of viewers to go through this emotionally overwhelming experience a second time, provided the viewer doesn’t delude himself into thinking that he has ‘got’ everything in one viewing.

According to the director, droplets of rain could even emerge from inside an umbrella if you are truly in love.  But the way he’s “conceived and crafted” this film, droplets of tears would emerge even out of the hardest of hearts…