The undercurrents beneath the surface

Ullozhuku (Undercurrent, Malayalam; 2024)
Director: Christo Tomy

An old Tamil proverb goes, ‘Tell a thousand lies to make one marriage happen.’ In Indian society and most Eastern cultures, a person is highly encouraged to get married once he or she is of marriageable age. 

Before Bharat Matrimony and Shaadi.com came into the picture, the services of marriage brokers were often summoned. Like St Jude Thaddeus, the patron of the impossible and lost causes, the broker, armed with various biodata including age, educational status, skin fairness chart, horoscope, Varna, and juicy family scandals that needed to be suppressed, would come the most appropriate match. 

Like in game theory, both sides may have their bag of worms but would find it appropriate to keep them buried. After all, they would see the bigger picture. A married person reaches a certain elevated status in society. Even funeral rituals are slightly different for the unmarried.

With time, all these societal norms have changed. In matters of the heart, with urbanisation and girls coming out of their homes for jobs and education, romance took the wedding brokers out of a job. 

Coming from a Catholic family, the family flipped when they discovered their beloved daughter, Anju, was in love with Rajeev, a Hindu boy. They quickly get her married to Leelamma’s son, Thomaskutty. Soon after the marriage, Thomas becomes chronically ill with a brain condition. 

Frustrated living in a loveless marriage caring for her bedridden husband, she rekindles her liaison with her former lover. Under the guise of collecting her husband’s medicine from the hospital, she spends quality tryst-filled times with Rajeev. 

Thomas soon dies, but Anju discovers that she is pregnant. Leelamma finds out that she is involved in an affair. 

The crux of the rest of the story is how Anju tries to leave her mother-in-law to be with Rajeev. Contrary to what Anju had been made to understand, Thomas had been known to be sick even before the wedding, but Anju’s mother concealed this from her. 

A poignant drama depicting the relationship of a mother-in-law with her daughter-in-law. As a lady, Leelalamma feels that she has had a raw deal from God despite doing her part of her bargain to God. She thinks that God is jealous of her being happy. All her moments are short-lived. How she had to cut short her big dreams at 19 when she was drawn into matrimony. Then, she lost her husband and her sick adult son with an intractable disease. 

Against the wet background of a flood-ravaged village in Kuttanad, Kerala, amidst the rising and ebbing of floodwaters and pouring rain, the story tells the tale of undercurrents that the ladies had to endure to conform to society and fulfil their duties as daughters, wives, mothers, and God-fearing people. 

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

All I can do is dream?

Exit (엑시트, Korean; 2019)
Director: Lee Sang-geun

Every time I see Koreans in action, be it in sports, movies or showcasing yet another new car, I get depressed. Koreans used to be our whipping boys in the Merdeka Tournament but look at them now, playing the same level of football with the big boys now. Kia started making automobiles in baby steps about the same time as us, but now, Korean cars are making Japanese cars sweat. Ours, on the other hand, is a national embarrassment.

With the innovation of P Ramlee and his friends at Jalan Ampas studio, they churned out hits after hits and even won cinematic awards at the Asian level. But now, all we can do is reminisce, brood about lost opportunities and imagine a country that we could have been.

Twenty years' master plan to learn, copy and innovate storytelling and moviemaking now sees Korean cinema and miniseries sweeping the world by storm. Korean culture is no longer alien to the people the world over. 

This movie is living proof of what the Koreans have achieved while we were napping, dreaming about Vision 2020 and Malay Supremacy. 'Exit' is a disaster film infused with traditional Asian family dynamics, light comedy, love interests and excellent computer graphic imaging. Just when I thought that disaster in movies would just mean run and run, here they have become imaginative. The storytellers have introduced rock climbing as a way to escape rising toxic fumes.

Yong-nam gets no respect. As far as his family is concerned, he is a loser. Even his nephew, an early teenager, does not think much of him. He is labelled a failure with no permanent job, not on his path to success any time soon, and no girlfriend to show around. He only has his rock-climbing skills to show.

The turning point comes during his mother's 70th birthday party. The girl he fancies works as a captain at the restaurant the party is held. A disillusioned scientist releases a toxic gas near the vicinity, and mayhem ensues. Everybody has to make it to the top of the buildings to be rescued by rescue helicopters. As the exit to the top is locked from the outside, our hero has to get his rock-climbing skills to good use. Of course, things get complicated, and our hero and the love of his life go through a whirlwind of adventures to win the day.

The way how emergency services are seen to be devised to combat disaster gave me another low. It reminded me how dismally our emergency disasters relief plans were executed during the recent Shah Alam and Hulu Langat floods. People were left to fend for themselves whilst leaders made cursory publicity visits. It was as if there were no contingency plans for emergencies. Surprisingly, when citizens wanted to vent their dissatisfaction over the case of the fox guarding the chicken coop, i.e. the Anti-Corruption Commission's alleged corruption, the whole civil service was at German precision to squash demonstrations with anti-riot gear and even court orders to make it illegal.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.