This is a good film with a tight storyline that could have been turned into a TV series with a thousand episodes. After decades, we could see a film telling the story of a family, tugged in town, between the good and the evil.
The siblings are the closest of all relatives who unfortunately fall further apart. Well, this has been the catch situation for stories since sometime before the ‘stone age’ of mankind.
The director sits beside you and is hell-bent upon squeezing your heart till you cry once every 15 minutes.
I couldn’t sit for heavy stuff for long moments and decided to discontinue watching the movie once every 16 minutes, till the end after 2 hrs and 17 minutes which was happily completed.
What holds back is the mystery of sadness and the sadness of a mystery. That bad flame of curiosity gives a strong feeling that the film should have been made shorter by at least 20 minutes.
The villain’s vengeance does not have enough gravity of reasoning. What starts up as anger against the hindrance to digging a bore well, shows up senselessly as the heinous crime of a psychopath against women. This is ridiculously cinematic and can be termed as ‘story bitching’.
Many social matters have been touched and brought to relevance in the storyline without a sermon by Jothika to the public. In her 50th film, Jothika has ‘stood well’ to say this is what acting is all about.
Iman for the music has come with a package comprising of some exquisite Karnatic ragas put to tune with Tchycovsky kind of composition and BGM, singers like Sid Sriram to cry the lyrics written with tears, and a ton of tissue papers.
Men, please make your own coffee. Do not disturb the ladies at home while they are watching this film. That may bring about some unpleasant consequences. This should be too good a movie for them to lend you their ears. Let them cry till they catch a cold.
Men who wish to wilfully ‘screw up’ their weekend would surely appreciate the movie. I say this because the emotions shoot from ‘Putra Shoka’ which is a punishment in itself to know and can never be used as content for entertainment.
Light-hearted men, let us get the hell out of there for some reggae, romance, and duets. This ‘tear jerking’ is not for our handkerchiefs. Cheers.
–Srirangam Ramesh