Time for re-assessment?

 Putham Pudhu Kaalai (புத்தம் புதிய காலை, A brand new dawn, Tamil; 2020)

The recent Covid pandemic and the uncertainties related to it made many to question the real meaning of life. Is all rat race really worth it? What are we actually chasing? What is the endpoint - is it that we would one day stop waking up but the whole world continuing despite our absence? The generation next is too embroiled in their own quagmire to give two hoots to your geriatric problems. Then what? Just wither away to the dark forces of Nature?

Given the restrictions that COVID imposed on the film industry, five screenwriters came up with five different tales that used the Indian national 21-day lockdown as the backdrop of stories. Somehow the isolation helped the characters to reassess the life await of them, embrace the changes and make amends of their past. And not to miss the twist at the end of the last snippet titled 'Miracles'. Indeed miracles work in mysterious ways.

In the first story ('llamai Etho Etho', 'here here youth'), an older couple, both widowed, try to hook up on the sly without the knowledge of their respective adult children. The exciting thing is that the moment they meet they are transformed into their younger selves (literally on the screen; their role assumed by younger actors). Soon lockdown is announced, and it becomes an opportune time to discover each other's highs and lows, warts and all. Society limits the expression of passion to the youth as if the aged are not capable or need for passionate love. Without longevity and improvement in health, is there a place for companion of the opposite gender? Or old age is merely a time to improve one's intellect or perform tapas to enhance one's standing in the karmic cycle?

The second offering ('Avarum Naanum, Avalum Naanum' - 'He and Me - She and Me') illustrates the many ill feelings that people carry on in their lives. Many of these can be just sorted out by straight face-to-face civil interaction to hear out each other's point of view. This, a granddaughter found out when she reluctantly agreed to babysit her grandfather and lockdown was instituted. She learnt that oldies are not mere dinosaurs who are stuck in the glue of the past. They also try to keep in sync with the winds of change.

Maybe the next one ('Coffee anyone') is kind of over the top. A comatose 75-year-old lady with pontine haemorrhage is discharged home after spending two months in ICU. Her two daughters, from the US and UK, drop in to spend time and celebrate her birthday. The third daughter who had left home over differences in career choices is not in good terms with her parents. This story questions the merits of strict parenting, the outsourcing of parenting duties as practised by modern parents and the traditional Indian type of parents hawking of children's every academic performance. 

The fourth story ('Reunion') highlights how the hard knocks of life sometimes leave considerable dents in people's lives. Not everyone has the wisdom from their experiences but instead, fall prey to the dark forces. In the episode, an old school mate turns up at an old friend's house. She is placed under house arrest during the lockdown. Her cocaine sniffing habit comes to light, and the lockdown becomes the best time to detox.

Unlike the previous stories which are set in more aesthetic homes, the final presentation takes place in the less glamourous of sites. It involves lowly petty thieves and a financially depleted movie maker. Convinced that motivational guru is referring to them when he keeps on saying on TV that he foresees a miracle coming their way. The thugs get the news that a business has hidden his ill-gotten gains in an abandoned car. They decide to look for it.

Everything is a miracle if we appreciate their existence. The fact we can breathe and enjoy things around us with our fully intact senses itself is the biggest miracle. Why look for another?

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If you love someone let him go!

K.D. @ Karuppu Dorai (2109, Tamil; கேடி என்ற கருப்புதுரை)

This story reminds me of the many stories that I discussed with my fellow partner-in-crime in the not so distant past. Quite many a time, seriously ill patients with advancing age with the myriad of medical illnesses that complements the geriatric population often gets admitted to his unit. Invariably, the patient's children would insist that their moribundly ill elders get all the best treatment that money can buy. The oft-repeated dialogue would be, "money is not a problem". My friend knows it is no use flogging a dead horse but like a good servant he is, he obliges, every time. 

The tide would be going against the acutely ill patient. The next of kins would, however, stay hopeful. The life is literally hanging on a thread, living on a prayer. But hope lies eternal in the human heart. 

Days move ever so slowly but the patient's condition doe not improve. Slowly, the number of visitors hanging around the visitors' lounge becomes thin. People have to go back to their daily routine. One has to live for the living. Occasionally, the nurses can hear arguments amongst siblings. One busybody nurse overheard one relative threatening to stop contributing to the family coffers. Then another would butt in to say that the treatment is the least the family offer to the patient. And yet another would throw in the towel citing economic reasons. Collectively they all would agree that the successful one amongst them take the tab. 

Soon it would be a single relative hanging around to get daily updates on the patient's progress. Then the Universe will speak and lead to an amicable curtain call so as to give a suitable closure to the whole brouhaha. Nobody gives what the patient wants. The living decides what is best for the dying. 

Everyone says that there is an absence of sufferings on the other side. One can enjoy of all kinds, eternally satiating all the senses at a divine but first, one has to die. That is the problem. Nobody wants to die no matter how much one is convinced of life after death.


This offbeat but entertaining drama tells of an unconventional bond between an 80-year-old man, KD, and young orphan boy, Kutty. This octagenarian was in a coma for three months. Lying in his daughter's home, given up by doctors, he holds on his life. Refusing to die, he becomes a burden to his 5 kids. They just want to go on with their lives. One sibling wants to marry off her daughter. Another is waiting for his inference to settle his debt. The youngest child, however, does not like the idea but relents anyway when collectively the family members decide to terminate the old man miseries by performing euthanasia using traditional village methods. By a twist of fate, the 80-year-old came around at the precise moment, overheard the conversation, and scooted off the scene on a local bus. He paid the fare for the last stop but the bus broke down in the middle of nowhere. KD decided to hang around a small temple, help around the temple, and make acquaintance with Kutty.

His friendship with Kutty gives KD a new lease of life. Kutty, an orphan, a street smart boy, was left at the doorstep of the temple at infancy. For the first time in his life, Kutty found love in an adult. Kutty made KD's bucket list and together they try to fulfil the list. The family, upon realising KD's disappearance, assigns a private investigator who is hot on the old man's trail. 

Another entertaining story with a picturesque spread of the Indian countryside. It has its fair share of quirky moments as two members of different generations try to find commonality. 

A lesson to learn: Do not let your family members decide the fate of your life. When your faculties are no longer yours to make a decision, they will make decisions that suit them or what is expected of them by society. Your suffering will be their bargaining chip. Write a legally binding declaration of refusing resuscitation when the situation arises. Have a difficult but necessary discussion of opting to turn off the plug when things do not look promising. Let people remember you as the ambulant and cheery person you are; not as the pain with tubes that drained half of the family heirloom, if there is any left.

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Just bulldoze through...

Darbar (2019)

Are we living lives that are so unfulfilling? Are we trapped in a quagmire of hopelessness and pessimism that destined us to be forever confined in a sticky web of doom and gloom? Are we resigned to the fact we are too intellectually bankrupt to lift ourselves up by our bootstraps?

Are we waiting for that imaginary knight in shining armour to magically hoist us out of our rabbit hole of melancholy? Is it possible? Or are we imagining another realm where all our aches, pains and attachments would be magically dismantled? 

Perhaps we had fought our fights and had given up. All the power and wealth of the powers that be have disarmed us from the shield of resilience. We have crumbled and wilted to pressure. We are numbed to our addiction to our devices that have sapped our juices to think.

Maybe it is not a new phenomenon. For ages, we of the human race have suffered under the tyranny of dictators and power-hungry madmen. And we have seen saviours in the form of revolutionists, orators, storytellers and even kings who were given demigod statuses. Some were labelled Son of God, Messenger of God and even avatar or representation of God walking on Earth. Rulers were bestowed divine standings when the country was peaceful, crops were bountiful, and natural calamities were absent. When economics went south, their reputations took a beating and acquired demonic ranks.

That must have reinforced the existence of religions. And of angel and demons and when everything else failed, a blissful afterlife in the waiting! 

This film is strictly for diehard Thalaiva fans who have not seen enough of his 80s, 90s and 21st-century mind-boggling, gravity-defying and logic-escaping masala-spaghetti flicks. The storyline is the same old same old time-tested format. One lone-wolf Indian cop sends shivers down the crooks and singlehandedly clashes head-on with the whole brunt of the mafia force with brute force without planning or regards to law and order, police professionalism as well as to human rights.

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Between creativity and mechanics?

Kattradhu Thamizh (கற்றது தமிழ், Learnt Tamil; 2007)

To remind ourselves, a line from Dead Poets Society...

John Keating (played by Robin Williams): We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, 'O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?' Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

The society tells you, especially if you are from the developing world, it needs to progress. Material improvement and physical development are viewed as a sure sign of prosperity. Science and technology are paths towards this end. Languages, literature, philosophy and art are frowned upon as a waste of time. It is characterised as the domain of the bourgeoisie; not in line with the advancement but instead of decadence.

In our small discussion group, we often discuss the current trend amongst the millennials who find the traditional science subject like medicine, engineering and core sciences unappealing but instead venture into finance,  banking and management. With all due respect to these fields above, the world actually needs scientists who, in previous generations, propelled the world into the next stage of refrigeration, telecommunication, aviation, construction and breakthroughs in medicine and farming. It does not need managers who excel in re-packaging previously unsold products with re-branding or creative companies which monetise everything. The comfort that we have been having since the Industrial Revolution was sparked by science.

So, is learning languages and the arts still relevant at this age and time? 

To take a cue from Amma, she would say, "Nice to listen to a song and appreciate the arts, but it does not put food on the table." That mentality probably echoed amongst most middle class Malaysian Indian families. The Tamil language was listened to but not spoken by their children. It was reserved only to talk to lowly coolies who cut your grass or cleaned your drains. This language used to be associated with crime, juvenile delinquency and decline. Hence, to emphasis on English and the fixation to converse with it. The richness, the past glory and the plethora of pearls of wisdom imbibed in the Tamil language are lost in the annals of time. This is inevitable. Economic dominance is king.

This film was listed as a must-watch Tamil movie in a post in Quora. One can probably lead a full life even without viewing this one, but nevertheless, the cinematography and the thought-provocation is worth the while. 

Prabakar, a smart student with a Masters in Tamil studies, finds life in Chennai very tough. It was the 21st century and India was drawn into the internet boom. Americanism and computers were the drawing forces. Tamil is ridiculed. He finds out in a hard way that with Tamil, one can only earn a living by writing cheesy poems and penning flirty love letters for fornicators. This, together with his traumatic childhood, the jilting of the love of his life and the frequent brush with the authorities, turns him into a psychopathic killer. 

Mediocre students doing computer studies and able to converse in English, he observed, fit nicely into the job market. Multinational companies pounce upon them for their telecommunication knowledge (read: call centres) and software engineering. Tamil language graduates were sneered and thought to have not reached the mark to qualify for anything 'worthwhile'. 

But then, lest we forget that the initial earth-shattering success of Apple and I-phone was not merely to their technological innovation but in their ability to combine both creativity, marketing as well as software development. In other words, the sciences and the arts combined. 

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A clash of historic proportions!

Kadaram Kondan (கடாரம் கொண்டான், Tamil, Conqueror of Kadaram; 2019))

Young Malaysian adults of the 1980s must be quite familiar with the umpteen times concerts by foreign artistes that were initially launched with much pomp and splendour only to be cancelled later by the powers that be. The storyline would be the same. The youth wings of some political party would oppose to performer's lifestyle or decry that the performance would spiral down the society into a web of decadence. Just so as quickly as the excitement started, it would just fizzle out until another organiser risks a similar venture and burns his fingers. Our loss would be our neighbours' gain. The performers would quickly change their venue, and the deep-pocketed would have no qualms to catch their icons there.

The list includes Chicago in 1990s for their long hair, Megadeth in 2001 for the negative image of their mascot, Beyonce in 2007 for her short dress, Inul Darashista in 2008 for her trademark gyrating dangdut moves, Erykah Badu for her Allah tattoo in 2012, Kesha in 2013 for cultural sensitivities. Metallica, Elton John, Micheal Jackson, Mariah Carrey, Avril Lavigne, Pussy Cat Dolls and Black Eyed Peas, however, saw their shows come through by the skin of their teeth.

This film shot entirely in and around Kuala Lumpur in five months, met a similar fate as the former. It is puzzling that after getting all the permits and even shooting in the Police Headquarters, its release was stopped. Now the authorities cite incomplete permits, as FINAS the Malaysian body that governs local film industry. Furthermore, the storyline puts the Royal Malaysian Police in a terrible light. It portrays almost all policemen as corrupt who act in cahoots with the thugs and become running dogs to crime kingpins.

There is yet another theory which is put forward by conspiracy theorists. Kadaram is the ancient name of a Hindu kingdom which was based in the northern state of Kedah. Rajendra Chola 1, the son of Raja Raja Chola of Thirukovil fame, was conferred the 'Kadaram Kondaan' (the conquerer of Kadaram) when he wrestled the State over from the Srivijaya empire. Kadaram was representative of the Malayan peninsula. So, to say, somebody is the conqueror of Malaysia is close to blasphemy and does not augur well with the State determined narration of the nation's history. Hence the ban. Nusantara had Indian/Hindu beginning? Malayan peninsular under the thumb of Bharat? Unbelievable. The local self-aggrandising historians have their own account of Arabs and Malays having the same root origin.

Jasmine Kaar, a Malaysian actor, played the role of a dirty cop.

If not for the guessing game of the locations of the scenes that appear on the film, it would have been a dull affair. At the word get-go, the viewer can guess the flow of the story. A young couple, a doctor husband and his fully gravid wife, gets embroiled with a gangster and his rivals backed by almost the whole Royal Malaysian Police.  Dr Vasu, a doctor in an intensive care unit, cares for a John Doe who was picked up around town. He witnessed some guy trying to kill the John Doe. Vasu's wife is kidnapped, and he has to get the patient out of the hospital discreetly if he wants to see his wife alive.

From then on, the movie goes on a cat-and-mouse spin all over the Klang Valley. There are too many hostage holding instances and death-defying near-miss accidents that makes the whole tale incredulous. It paints a picture of nearly every Malaysian cop to be corrupt and subservient to mafia leaders. It looks like the gang leaders pay their salary. The police have earlier crooks' phone number on their speed dial. 

The story is based on a French movie titled 'À bout portant' made in 2010. It was remade in other languages too - Korean (The Target, 2014), Bollywood (unfinished, 2015), Hollywood (Point Blank, 2018), Bangla (Password, 2019).

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We flock together when the odds are against us.

Sometimes (Sila Samayanggil, Tamil, சில சமயங்கில்; 2018)
Netflix

We consider ourselves one step better than a stranger standing beside us. We gaze at them through our rose-tinted glasses when they are unaware and draw our own conclusions on their moral standards and codify them either 'good' or 'bad'.

All these changes immediately the moment there is an imminent danger or a potentially life-consuming event in the near future. Imagine a group of passengers in a cruise who are stranded in a terrible storm, have lost all radio contacts and just waiting for time to sink if help does not arrive in time. In that scenario, everybody put their prejudices aside, treat each other as equal and try to face the common enemy.

This is the scenario that the filmmakers are trying to create. Seven patients are waiting anxiously in a sparsely populated lobby for their HIV results. Each patient has their own story that brought them to get their blood tested - an ex-girlfriend dying from AIDS, a single contact with a sex worker, a rape victim, someone who helped a road traffic accident victim who later died with HIV and so on. I guess the storyteller decided to stay from a gay or a promiscuous character as he would probably be the focus of the story or take the suspense part out of guessing who would turn HIV+ later. In the midst of all these is a counter clerk at the hospital who has serious money issues. 

The seven patients could not stand the pressure of having to wait until the end of the day to get the results. They try to bribe the clerk to expedite the results, but all she could do was to tell that one of the seven of them got the bad news. The question is which one of them? That creates suspense that lasts throughout the later part of the film.

The whole movie takes place in a single set mostly, and in a single day. A slow-moving but intense drama with enough melodrama to satisfy the appetite of Tamil moviegoers. An AIDS awareness movie. 

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Love, an often abused word

Nadigaiyar Thilakam (2018)

People do a lot of things under the guise of love. They justify wrongdoings and rationalise breaking of sacred bonds with the same excuse. They sanitise guilt by saying that love conquers all. They give love such a status as if it is the one that maintains human civilisation and makes the world go around. In short, love moves mountains. Love is Grace. Love is God.

Perhaps love has been over-glorified. If we were to dissect love into subsets, maybe then the true intentions may manifest. A rose in any language may smell the same, but its thorns hurt, nevertheless. To be fascinated, to admire, to have passion, to desire, to have devotion, to like, to lust, to obsess, all denote different degrees of love. The end results in the pursuit of these ambitions may not always be a happy ending. 

This film is a biopic drama of the darling of the early 1960s' Tamil silver screen, Mrs Savithri Ganesan. Savithri landed in Kollywood in the 1950s as a starry-eyed youngster. Even though failing to secure an acting role initially, she made her acquaintance with Gemini Ganesan. By a twist of fate, she finally was given a role in Kollywood and developed a relationship with an already married Gemini.

The story tells about their union, how they legitimise their wedding using love as a reason. Surprisingly this power of love only lasted as far as the going was good. When Savithri's career outshone Gemini's, he became defensive. The romance fizzled out and, hatred took over. Booze took charge to numb the pain. Love took the form of another woman. Somehow, it all made sense when Savithri was the other woman but not when she was two-timed.

Bad business decisions and naivety landed Savithri in a collision course with the Income Tax. Embroiled in debts, alcoholism and bad health, she never regained her rightful place as the doyen of the Tamil cinema but died a pauper.

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Living on borrowed times

Radiopetti (Radio Box, Tamil; 2015)

I used to wonder why the humming of the radio was the constant background of my home as I was growing up. At the first break of dawn, if Appa had the choice and not for Amma's nagging, it would start with the early morning chanting of Subrapaatham and just breeze through the day and night until transmissions ended. Yes, there used to be a time when even broadcasters called it a day, mostly at the stroke of midnight.

At that time, the radio announcers' songs and rants sounded more like a nuisance, as my sisters and I were busily cramping our cranial vaults with facts and notes to regurgitate in the next tests. Nobody could understand Appa's fixation with his cranky radio box, which he later graduated to a transistor radio. It was not that the devices were manufacturing Top 40 hits. Sometimes, only white noise or high-pitched zapping sounds emanate when he tunes in to the short-wave bands from Kuala Lumpur or Singapore. 

But he continued this practice till his dying days...

The delicacies we consumed in childhood taste much better than the same thing available now. At least the memory of it is. It is probably the same reason why old songs mean so much. Every song, food, smell, and sensation that tickles our tastebuds is associated with a particular moment. Every byte of information stored in our grey cells is linked to one specific event in our existence; a fond moment with our loved ones, the yearning for an unfulfilled romance, a blissful time that would never come back or a time when things were simpler.

This low-budget, low-frill, award-winning movie never really made headlines. Only through word of mouth did it come to my attention. 

 Arunachalam, probably in his 60s, spends most of his time relaxing on his lazy chair after retirement, listening to the transmissions from his old diode radio set. Ired by the constant blaring of the radio, his only child, probably in his mid-20s, leaves his paternal home after a tiff, smashing his radio to smithereens. 

Six years later, Arunachalam and his wife spend their time in sheer solitude. The couple is engrossed in their routine. Arunachalam is busy working as a clerk in a cotton mill. His wife, Lakshmi, is happy serving her husband. The memory of their son pops up every now and then. His contact is limited to his occasional phone call. The son is living with his wife and her family elsewhere. For company, they have a fellow tenant downstairs whose husband works overseas and her tantrum-throwing pre-teen son. 

Arunachalam's old radio is only a distant memory. Lakshmi's surprise gift, a transistor radio, rekindled his suppressed memories. The broken diode radio was one of the only remaining assets of Arnachalam's now deceased parents. The rest of the movie highlights the loneliness endured by the senior members of society. After fulfilling their familial duties, unable to keep up with the demands and changes in values of the generations next, they are generally left to fend for themselves. Their life is mired in silence, with an occasional highlight of a visit of a long-lost friend or relative. 

Even if they are financially taken care of, boredom is the basal undertone. Just how much of TV can one indulge? Nostalgia, which has a bad reputation for making people delve into the past rather than looking at the future, is not all that bad. With the curse of a long life, perhaps an unhealthily long life sustained by advances in medical sciences, longevity may be a curse. As if dragging their feet into the twilight of their existence, sweet memories of the past may be the only thing that keeps the bunny going. The presence of crazy friends in their lives goes a long way...

A good movie, 4.5/5.

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Get Back!

Aruvi (Tamil அருவி; 2017)

This is a compelling sociopolitical drama which must have surely been written by a card-carrying member of the socialist/communist party. Who else would paint such a bleak picture of modern life and the self-defeating trappings that line every aspect of our lives? Human values take a back seat. A pre-set path is made for us to follow and feel contended. Any deviation from the norm is frowned upon. The whole purpose of life is to promote consumerism, be awed by materialism and to fatten the multinational conglomerates.

This is an absorbing saga of a young girl, Aruvi, who acquired HIV most unconventionally - at the roadside coconut vendor as she savoured a probably contaminated freshly cut coconut! Long story short - she falls seriously ill, is diagnosed, hurled abuses of promiscuity and is chased away by the previously loving family. She wanders around, living with friends and working menial jobs. At every corner, the men in her life misbehaved. They demand sexual favours in return for help.

Lakshmi Gopalaswamy

Aruvi befriends a fellow HIV victim, a transexual, Emily. Together they plot an act of appropriate revenge to expose the hypocrisy of the society, the wolves in sheep's clothing in community and the foolhardy of the people in the business of peddling news who are more interested in sensationalism than actually highlighting the plight of the people.

Aruvi and Emily walk into a television studio in the pretext of exposing the plight of the society's transgender population. Cleverly, they hoodwinked a self-absorbed talk show compère and took the studio staff hostage at gunpoint. 

It takes a swipe at a TV reality-justice talk show of the Tamil little screen,  'Solvathellam Sathyam'. It works along the same line as 'Jeremy Kyle Show' and 'Jerry Springer Show' where people wash dirty linen in public. The movie, even though, uncredited is supposed to be based on an Egyptian 2011 film, 'Asmaa' as alleged by some critics. It is obviously not copied as we will find out later.

A refreshing story with completely fresh faces and a debutante director. 4.5/5.

Also, see: on Asmaa https://www.riflerangeboy.com/2019/07/walk-mile-in-her-shoes.html 

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