The Flash (2023)

 Two scenes that got me emotional. One, when Michael Keaton's Bruce Wayne does the eye scan and walks into his room of batsuits. Two, the climactic multidimensional, multiverse showcase of the DC superheroes and the various incarnations. There was Christopher Reeve and that got me into tears. Yes, it's an emotional manipulation on the filmakers' part milking nostalgic reactions from the audience...but it was well placed within that multiverse nonsense (acceptable nonsense because it's from god-damned comic book, not pages of Tolstoy).

There's only one draw for me to eagerly wait for this flick - Keaton. Other Batmen came and gone, but for three decades like a fanatic loyalists, I stood by Keaton, proclaiming that he's the best. So what if he's not comic book accurate (oh yeah, try the various other earlier incarnations on pages you get even ones sillier than the intentional campy live TV version). 

Keaton didn't have a trilogy. He sort of moved on when his earlier frequent collaborator Tim Burton decides not to do the third. This, for me, is that third Keaton Batman. To watch from that perspective, despite his lesser screentime, makes the entire film a fantastic experience.

This, to me, is the best DC flick since the earlier Keaton Bats film (I don't dig Christian Bale's grim take, sorry Nolan fan boys), and certainly the best comic book film since the first Iron Man (2008).

The multiverse concept doesn't bug my semiliterate brain, it works because, hey, we watched and understood Back To The Future (referred to heavily here - great plot device to enlighten the audience - albeit the Eric Stoltz version.... movie nuts would know about that casting trivia). It's quite easy to follow but can be messy when we are thrown in it, then again it doesn't ruin the flow.

The simple message of not changing the past and accepting "fate" and that "fate" can never be altered is hammered down enough to make the early devotional Tamil film fans proud. I hate that message and that is my only complaint. Fate, like the concept of "creation" is all encompassing easy answer to unanswerable questions relating to selfish desires and disappointments. To throw that chip into a comic book film feels like ho-hum, almost lazy, to me.

But it is interestingly probed here. The question as to whether you really get to meet, interact and touch the physical you of the past is firmly put aside without getting science in the way. Hey, it's a comic book movie, they have done worst shit on the page panels.

The film was already notorious for casting Ezra Miller.... he's got massive legal baggages to deal with that made him an instant fan repellent in these days and ages of knee jerk, politically correct, woke moral posturing. We are still struggling with the concept of parking legally, making us swell moral judges, don't we? But I digress.

He did a good job, playing dual role of the same character from different age group convincingly. Hopefully the audience can put the actor's personal issue aside, let the real world deal with it, and enjoy the film for what it is. Damn, poor DC could use some hits and try to be at least neck to neck with the smug MCU. DC could really kick off a good new phase with this film. Hey, I even liked Sasha Calle's Supergirl. 

Ponniyin Selvan 2 @ PS2

(Spoiler alert: Not sure what I am giving away, but there may be some stuff you better off not knowing now, but if you are familiar with the story the books are based on, perhaps it’s fine)

The highly anticipated second part to last year’s Ponniyin Selvan has hit the theatres and for the poor industry that had been enduring pretty dull outings of lately finally got something that would jerk the shoulder of audiences who have been sleepwalking into theatres. The film lives up to it’s promise and premise – unless you are a huge fan of the original books. Any fans of books will have, one way or another, gripes about film versions. I am a fan of Ian Fleming’s books, I am as jaded as Luke Skywalker in the recent Star War instillments when it comes to the adaptations.

This is not a sequel perse, but continuation as the film was intentionally broke into two parts, having had majority of the scenes shot at one go. Kinda what they did with the Lord of The Rings flicks. So, to compare with the first would be unfair, depending on who’s reviewing.

But I tell you this, its’s a lot more intriguing and exciting this time around, thanks to the narration’s focus on the dramatic character clashes and political skirmishes. Here, the lead characters are fleshed out even further and given lots of emotional dimensions – scopes that unfortunately some performers are out of depth with.

Speaking of which, I had my issues with Aishwarya Rai and Trisha, with their frozen demeanour that I spoke about in the review of the first film. I still have issues with the two overstaying actresses, but having had already anticipated that, it didn’t interfere with my viewing pleasure this time around. It probably added to the joy of other scenes, having these two piss poor performances out of the way.

This time, the narration is briskly paced, scenes are given good beating like in an interrogation room – truth comes out in most of them. In fact, I was even enthralled by a romantic scene involving Karthi’s Vandhiyadevan and Trisha, involving a sword. It was titillating, frankly even exuded with sublime eroticism and Karthi nailed his confusion amidst convulsion of pain, and compulsion of still needing to wisecrack within his predicaments. More on him later.

As mentioned the story moves, moves and moves. It never lets up, with exception of the encounter between Vikram’s and Aishwarya Rai’s Nandhini, a very well written sequence with an important end. The climactic battle sequence is a lot more better shot and edited, and we have an idea of who’s frickin’ fighting whom, an issue I often have with even many well-made Hollywood flicks, where we sort of get lost amidst heavy cutting, and multiple angles and varying distances that they keep alternating, giving us a goddamned headache.

Vikram gets to do more heavylifting this time around, and he did it gloriously. It's satisfying that he was picked for this role, a lion with thorn in the paw, and he roared his way through with lots of hurt, continuing where he left off. His ending was apt. It may have been anticipated, by those who knows the story, it still feels shocking.

Mani have tough time juggling many important characters, as he did in the first film. But he sort of nailed it down to what matters to the central strain of the story, and limited the focus to the main characters. Others make appearances too, like ones played by Prabhu Ganesan, his son, Vikram Prabhu and Parthiban, the latter who had bigger part in the first one. But its thoroughly satisfying, nevertheless.

If only the lead character was played by a far more powerful actress, this film would be up there with the Veerapandiya Kattabomman or Karnan -  too bad. It could be wrong casting decision, but then, it could be that the industry, the last thirty years, at least, had been bereft of truly mesmerising, strong female performers. Definitely by choice, thanks to the male dominated industry.

Mani has delivered and thank god it was him. Both MGR and Kamal Haasan wanted to adapt the books, but I get a feeling that if at all they were made, the films would cater to the fans of the stars, not the books, more. There are rumblings about caste already in the first film, and it is very notably present in this film as well. But guess what? Mani didn’t give a ****. He just went on with it, and so be it. For a quiet, soft spoken, almost effete director, he is one stubborn goat and that is why this film managed to get made in the first place. Despite my own personal disdain for some of the stuff he did onscreen in the past, I salute him. Good job.

Additional Note: Karthi continues with his fantastic performances as Vandhiyadevan and I think his character would be great in a spin-off. Just him, perhaps his girl pal, the fabulous boat gal played by Aishwarya Lakshmi and his best frenemy played by Jayaram off onto another bunch of adventures. On the other hand…they might totally ruin it. Oh, I shut up.

Millennials and Generationism

 [I wrote this last year April… heaven knows why I never posted this. Perhaps I had diarrhea that day. But here it is… have I changed my mind…? Hell no.)

*-*

“Stupidity is a lack of intelligence. Ignorance is the decision to ignore certain facts and realities. (James Mulholland from his article on racism)”

 

Generationism: “…belief that a specific generation has inherent traits that make it inferior or superior to another generation. The term is usually applied to claims of superiority in the expressed values, valuations, lifestyles and general beliefs of one generation compared to those of another, where objectively verifiable criteria substantiating the claim of superiority in themselves are lacking.

 -+-+-+

I have been seeing many posts, especially in the Facebook lately, a trend somewhat, by some folks who hangs on to old traditions and ancient practices the way vultures circle rotting corpses. 

Look, I am an old guy, and come September this year I'd be stepping into my fifth decade, and I was whining about “kids nowadays” since I was in my twenties. I had always been an old fart. Even my beloved aunty Saro who is several decades older than me, calls me, not old fashioned guy, but “old era guy” (pazhaya kalattu manushan).

Yet as I aged ungracefully (hair loss, alcoholism, liking some contemporary actresses and swearing allegiance to cats) I am beginning to realise the follies of the way of my thinking...

I mean, look, every other goddamned generation is always sneering at the next generation, saying that they got it easy. "Kids these days," some geezer would say, "I used to walk 20 kilometer to school". Exaggeration is the side effects of aging and memory loss. Hell,  some of these "honest" men are leading corporations and running the government

Being unenforced ritualistic endeavours, generationism oftentimes rears its snapping turtle head in many other departments.

Let’s take the fashion, for example, especially men. The now septuagenarian former wearers of baggy pants hated bell bottoms when the later, err, swept across the nations. Just about the time they caught up with the flaring trousers (with flaring nostrils of hesitance) with progression of time, these new embracers of bell bottoms rang their bells (re: Anita Ward) angrily when the goddamned straight cut that they left behind hastily to peruse the disco floor burner….wait for it… made a comeback in 80s. Arrrr! They cried like peg legged pirates waving their unsheathed swords towards the youths wearing the very goddamned baggies they had long re-stitched into sailing masts. 

Aside: The slim cut of late sixties early 70s is back now, sigh. If women’s fashion is like football, men’s fashion is table tennis. End of aside 

Now, let’s look at pop culture...that’s even harder hitting, I tell ya. When Chuck Berry and gang burst open the door to unleash the foot tapping, hip swaying rock n roll into the scene, the previous title holders, the Jazz aficionados (or hepcats, whatever they mean)....raised hell. Yet, when rock n roll went psychedelic, insolent Elvis fans refused shaved their respective pair of sideburns. 

Soon enough, disco ruled the stage (or dancefloor), the rockers cringed and went full tight leotards, torn jeans hairblown hair, and makeup that made women err… blush?. Though I am not a fan of hip hop/rap… but I thank them to putting some of these glam Rock sonsofbitches back to the sidewalk. That genre hasn’t recovered if one were to judge by the number of “best of” or “greatest hits” compilations they churn up more than the number of actual albums they did.

But I digress.

In the social media, often, I saw the resurgence of “traditional is the best” schtick where, especially the Indians, have traditional cure for every goddamned thing including riots at movie theatres screening Tamil films.

When Poet Laureate Kannadhasan wrote munnorgal moodargal alla (the ancients are not dumbasses)… he didn’t say that they were genius and did shit and stuff and were ahead of us. If so, they would have cured dumbassery among the community long time ago. What he meant was, the folks of that sub-continent survived during their era of extreme difficulties with very little man-made resources with acquired wisdom amassed over time. They were survivors, not whiners that happened to be the very generations now looking back and selling blended leaves to cure piles.

Anyway, my grouse is how this mentality is affecting the way they/we are looking at the younger generations, specifically the millennials. Millennials are lazy, the older generations complain. Millennials got everything handed out to them, and they are needy...it seems.

Well, f*** off, geezers. Let’s look at these facts. Yeah, facts. If you can call old decrepit piece of dung products and practices as facts and sell them on radio stations, I don’t mind calling the following facts myself.

Top Ten Old is gold, but not all that glitters are gold facts .

1.      Mobile phone is bad? Mobile phone reunited many lost family members, friends, acquaintances.  If it’s splitting the family members at the dinner table, regulate the usage – have better attitude.  Stop whining about it.

2.       The better transportation system made world smaller, it also able to make the Meeks murderers on road - most of whom are not millennials. Let’s not forget the traffic offences and inconveniences. Check out the driver’s gray hair.

3.       Most technology we have now comes from the innovation in the defense industry started by older farts. That industry is behind the death of millions if you didn’t know.

4.       Stop bugging the younger generation for their cluelessness or for not being as smart as your generation.  We were pulling spider legs that age, remember?

5.       Who invented wrestling, where skimpily dressed sweaty men do extremely physical things to each other? Millennials?

6.       Don’t sneer at the millennials for not keeping a tab on what’s happening around the world.  The ones who do are running the country or, have been voting in all the wrong goddamned geezers in the first place.

7.       Old farts are the worst offenders in the social media ,  sharing unverified b.s., malicious panic creating rumours,  thrusting their favourite football team onto unsuspecting open beaks of the young'uns,  ditto political parties,  favourite old fart actors (and Thalaivars), and worse  personal faiths. 

Aside: Which means kids will never buy that James Cagney is the patron saint of awesomeness, so shut up Rakesh. End of aside.

8.       All the great traditions, cultures, faiths, ideologies,  from past have either evolved or failed! Values? Yeah, sure. There are still theft, corruption, rape, abuse of the underage and animals, murder on every goddamned civilisation at any given time.  Let the kids now change all that – help them, don’t discourage them if they are sincere, not just merely being woke.

9.       Current movies sucks, music went down to drain? Well boo-effing-hoo, the executives greenlighting them are… you guessed it – old farts.

10.     And when you corporate knuckleheads look at coming up with products and services to please consumers and make shitload of money…which age group do you often target?     - RKP,  25/04/22

Varisu (2023)

This is sort of the kinda flick Karthik (Muthuraman's son, not Siva Kumar's) used to flourish in back during the hey days of the 90s, where film qualities were fresh from the day before's wet market, with radio friendly songs by the likes of Deva or Sirpy, or in case of skint treasure chest, S.A.Rajkumar, who unleashed melodies after melodies that chase after their own respective tails (an honorable trade now expertly weaved by Harris Jeyaraj). 

It's nice to hear the background score (or as the Indian film experts call beegeeyem") because the loudness kept me awake, most grateful.

It's nice to see Ganesh Venkataraman. I had hope for this dude once, in fact, I even had a dude crush on him. He has yet to prove himself. Bugger need a career counselor.

It's nice to see Jayasudha, who's definitely in for the paycheck. She didn't age much, looks great and I do hope she stick around longer - there are so few actresses from K. Balachander fraternity around. The industry could use you brilliant, talented gals, suck some of the blood cells or something.

It's nice to see Prabhu Ganesan, who's definitely in for the paycheck.

And lunch. Sigh.

It's nice to see SJ Surya's guest performance (not cameo, because he gets his own flashback privileges), though he seemed to have misplaced his eccentricities.

It's nice to see Sarath Kumar taking over from fellow elder Nattamai, Vijaya Kumar, playing the long suffering patriarch of a wealth endowed family, albeit with better stock of organic hair.

Hari O Sambo 😑

Thunivu (2023)

If I were asked to choose between Ajith and Vijay at gun point, I’d not hesitate to choose Ajith. One, he’s one of those limited actors who can work well within the confines of his capacity. He sucks when he attempts to push himself. But within his comfortable zone he can weave magic and be very entertaining.

And that what kept me in the movie theater till the end, in this, otherwise a wannabe, bank heist thriller.

Joining the excitement of seeing gravity defying, physics spitting films doing well of late, even getting recognition at prestigious award shows, Thunivu is very generous in incredulous, verifiably silly action sequences. Some fans would laud this, but in the absence of circus tents around the world which has long since stopped enticing to watch bearded lady and Dick Grayson’s parents fall to their respective “origin story” deaths, movies have been delighting these passive adrenaline junkies. Tom Cruise’s career depends on it. Thunivu thrives on it.

Then the Tamil movies obsession with flashback sequences. This Tamil Movie flashbackitis strikes after intermission. To and fro, we get expositional orgies of plot “correcting” information, coincidences, and convenient backstories. It’s relentless, and completely unengaging. If the film just stayed at the bank and allowed the character interaction to reveal fragments of those backstories through dialogues and actions, it would have been a smarter tale despite the amateur pyrotechnics and terrible supporting casts and worst extras.

Like Rajini, Ajith these days merely sells his image. Nothing wrong with that. His character here fills like a continuation of one he played in Mangatha, a film that I really enjoyed, especially his performance.

Ajith still excels in wearing negative shades to his character’s personality. He carries that attitude and that is why I hung on to him, instead of walking out when the relentless flashback attack began. His insanity kept the film together, strangely. 

The heist story and the marionette act with bigger powers that be planning a headline making tragedy is not new. Ask Michael Mann who has been perfecting the sub-genre since the 1981 film he directed James Caan in, Thief. After years of history of Tamil film attacking politics and politicians (and the industry players joining them anyway), this film goes after the finance sector and the behind the scenes players. Some viewers not too savvy with the sector’s working might be lost as to how account holders are being robbed, but we get the picture. It’s not too different than swindling politicians. Voters and consumers are like addicts and alcoholics, lessons are often learned too late. So, don’t sneer at us ex Rehab inhabitants.

Anyway taking Ajith out the film would make this flick as interesting as half boiled egg white  The plot tries to be clever, but could have been clearer. The action scenes tries to be clever, but could have been clearer. The other characters tries to be clever, but almost all, especially the cops come off as uniformly uninformed uniformed dumbasses. Clarity won’t cut it. #rakeshmovietalk

2022: The Year of Diarrhea

 

This is my long awaited sequel to the 2009 and 2008 review I wrote back then. Compared to last two years, those two years were like time spent at a monastery.

In all fairness, getting by 2021 and hopping into 2022 was not exactly like from pot into the fire… no. It was like missing the flame, but getting right down to the coal, getting raked left right till you are not even edible to a T-Rex.

Despite the fact that T-Rex will resist you as pièce de résistance, for having a more refined taste, ...but then, even the great Extinct One would be glad that it didn’t stick around for the stinkaroo that was 2022. Seriously, it was a shitty year in which the only momentary reprieve was when Will Smith smacked Chris Rock and was talked about in the media in the same manner as they would when Hitler invaded Poland.

Speaking of which, right in the beginning of the year, Russia invaded Ukraine. It was not an incursion, or a mild mosquito-esque bite on some small village. It was a goddamned invasion. And the world sat and posted stuff about it, about the human rights, about how unfair life is on Ukraine and how Putin is a shitbag. More than 50 million Ukrainian civilians were killed… but don’t forget to wear a mask.

Because Covid didn’t end in 2021. Nosireebob. The year ended, but Covid signed an extension contract with the devil (played by John Malkovich) and continued to party all year around. This writer got infected briefly. The experience, shall I say, was confusing. I was expecting an ‘Excorcist Linda Blair’ like reaction, but all I got was mild fever, a bit of body ache and some shits. What a bummer.

Yet, 2022 had its own roller coaster ride and calm boat ride. This year, finally Anwar Ibrahim realized his and his followers’ dream of finally become the prime minister of the country – after a rather relaxed voting process. The amount of yelling, cursing and Facebook banning would make you think that Malaysian voters are rabid political beasts who would bite live electric wire to prove a point. Come the actual time to go out there and doin’ dat thang, they were all just regular blokes and gals. Some even said good morning.

The win by Pakatan Harapan made “I told you so” as the most used expression in the country, and everyone was excited including Barisan Nasional who, for years hating DAP decided to join force because… no, not because they want to share power. Of course, not. They want to help us, the people. Yeah. Does that sound convincing? How if I tell you that fish can ride a bicycle? Yeah, that’s more convincing.

Then, there’s the case involving our former prime minister Najib Tun Razak. Those who despised him were happy with the sentencing handed out. But then, there are those who thinks something is not right. There’s something rotten in the state of KL. There is no point going deep into it, as everyone should enjoy the honeymoon phase with their favourite idol as the prime minister. The shit is only halfway to the fan.

Speaking of “interesting” leadership, Twitter agreed to sell itself to Elon Musk. Seriously, that’s what most of the medias say. I am not saying that Twitter has since become like a gigolo or something. But there is certainly some element of someone wanting to use something for their own perverted pleasure thing going on there.             

In May, the United States of America made the news when their president said something stupid. Oh, who am I kidding. That happens all the time. No, the news is tragic…that is when 19 children and two teachers were killed when an 18 years old opened fire in a classroom at an….

….elementary school. I know we were all shocked by it, then we moved on like deciding what’s for lunch. But let that sink again. Also, dig this: US has had at least 604 mass shootings so far in 2022 and this news came out in November. That is bigger number than their 116 Olympic medals won last year.

And we continue to take the sons of bitches from that country seriously. That’s a child murdering nation, with presidents who immediately assume the role of homicidal maniacs killing people inside and mostly, outside of the country. And there are Malaysians who are just too eager to carry the goddamned Eagle nation’s balls, and with the members of the new government - now that all of the main knuckleheads have joined forces – are now going to be ready to offer their organic boot cleaning services for a fistful of dollars. We’re gonna get sprayed with pure American holy pee soon.

There are plenty of losses this year. Among the celebrities listed here by a UK media Olivia Newton-John Robbie Coltrane, Olivia Newton-John, Taylor Hawkins, Dame Deborah James, Dame Angela Lansbury, Vivienne Westwood, and Queen Elizabeth II. Yes, the latter is listed as a celebrity.

Now, the Brits have a king after more than seven goddamned decades. We have King Charles over there, and, queen Camille. But history will mostly remember them for the tampon thing.

We also had World Cup. For the first time since 1982, I never watched a single game. Speaking of the game, we lost Pele – the greatest ever footballer, who sprinkled so much magic to the game that I dare say that in developing world, he was bigger than whoever or whatever's being worship.

2022 has now come to an end. The Covid cases has gone down – but let’s face it, it was devastating. This is what I got off the net:

Malaysia cases

Updated 30 Dec, 2022

Confirmed cases: 5,025,581

Deaths:  36,851

Global cases

Confirmed cases: 658,820,443

Deaths: 6,684,285

The entire year was ruled by a tiny virus, not a new king or prime minister. A tiny goddamned virus. We can only hope that the next year would be better as we do every year. 

Since the last several years had been progressively worst, I am reminded of an old Tamil movie comedy. This dude played by Nagesh tells another dude, Neelu, about the visit to an astrologer.

Nagesh: The astrologer said, only until I am fifty would I go through difficulties, suffer like a dog

Nilu: After 50?

Nagesh: I will get used to it.

Happy New Year everyone…. Keep the mask on. The…other mask, I mean.

Naai Sekhar (2022)

Note: Expectedly dull and dumb, but worth for Anandharaj’s hillarious turn as frustrated baddy. Also, the end song, an apt rap by Vadivelu himself, with dance choreographed by Prabhu Deva.

The film begins by thanking meme creators. There’s a necessity for that. Vadivelu has been making comebacks like burnout rock stars surviving on nostalgia and “Best Of” collection sales.

Vadivelu is now on second lease (pun…see movie titles) of his career comeback. The first time after he ran out of favour with cinema audience, the repeated showcasing of his earlier comedy scenes found new batch of audience and he made a film being the lead.

Then, it’s the memes…if you have social media friends who do watch Tamil films, you can’t run away from those memes with Vadivelu in it.

Be as it may, Vadivelu needs good writers. After his split from his writing partner Singgamuthu, his art (whatever it is) suffered so much so that  he couldn’t even compete with the lesser comics now filling his market stall.

The industry that’s prone to self congratulations at the drop of a hat, with almost a century of experience behind it is bereft of good scriptwriters, let alone ones who could deal with comedy. The last time there was a good full length comedy feature was 23am Pulikesi which benefited from a very good original source (cartoon strip in magazine). 

It has not been so since in few Vadivelu starrers.

With a limited comic talent Vadivelu relied heavily on slapsticks and self deprecation for laughs, while occasionally dishing out able dramatic performances. But his bag of trick is limited, and a comics expiry date on big screen is just as limited.

Here's another opportunity to make use of Vadivelu by the filmmakers and Vadivelu himself to tap on the fans still remembering him through the incessant (often unfunny) memes.

But the film is only slightly funnier than the crass soapwater shit being passed off as comedy on TV and social media. It didn’t even push Vadivelu into a newer direction which 24am Pulikesi did.

Those still nostalgic about the “great era” would sit through this out of respect and in hope that there’ll be some sort of redemption somewhere. Otherwise the film is a sketch piece but stretched a bit too far.

Also you know shit is not working when you hafta insert that Goundamani/Senthil Karagattakaran theme. In a Vadivelu flick. There’s hardly an originally hilarious moment, just recaps, recalls from his earlier flicks.

Still, the solace comes in form of the flick’s baddy Anandharaj. His desperation, frustrations especially with his inept henchmen who later has to adjust to them who has to do regular jobs to support themselves. That by itself would have been a wonderful subject to explore with Anandharaj himself as big time gangster dealing with labour issues, and latter's health after his bits get shot. He’s the funniest here.

But they’ll stretch that thin too. Sad that Vadivelu’s comeback pitch keeps fizzling out. Time for him to take a bow or continue with character roles. He’s better as a second lead at least.

#rakeshmovietalk 

Food Karma

Thought I would write one after a long time. Just a blog on nothing.

Today, an acquaintance of mine taught me the word, “food coma”. I was on What’s App telling her that I am feeling sleepy after a rather generous helping of lunch. She send a voice message in a tone that half suggested that she is sorry for me sincerely, and in another half probably thinking that I just got out of Niah Cave after thirty years.

“Food coma? Yeah, food coma.” She repeated it one more time…third one possibly to hint about my age.

I laughed it off, “kids, these days!” Rolling my eyes upwards and checked what it meant online. Dammit, I need to update myself.

And voila! There is food coma, but the proper terminology for it, medically, is “Postprandial Somnolence". I had to push my heart back down my esophagus. What the hell was that!

To an untrained ears (in a household that lacked budget for cotton buds), that sounds terrifying. It’s like massive cavity injury somewhere between groin and ass with growing fungal infection. Or something like that. Goddamned Postprandial Somnolence!

But its just food coma. It’s that feeling of slight drowsy, slight tiredness, three spoonful of massive laziness and generous helping of sleepiness. Yeah, all that ‘ness’ coming and assaulting you like the SEAL team from Planet Sleeptopia.

In any case, why do we actually want to have  a massive lunch many a times? Especially in Malaysia? Long time ago, I wrote a piece here (2005) and here (2008) on on Banana leaf lunch and made a case that there is something in there that I suggest you read. You think what I’m gonna reproduce an excerpt politely like I do in my more serious writing? Balik kampong dah! This is my informal side, I even type topless here.

But in there, I suggested some chemical reason as to why we get sleepy. Decades have passed since then (actually only slightly more than a decade, but I am known to be dramatic especially to those who had faithfully deleted my numbers)…. And now most of us know why we get sleepy after lunch.

No, I don’t. Postprandial Somnolenc...it seems....

Now, this lady friend of mine told me about food coma and knowing well that my ass is lazier than a goddamned sloth on pot, I was to check what it meant. Also the term is very new for an old fart approaching fifth decade of existence (minus two and a half years in Rehab where I was kinda frozen in time). Kids these days know more about all this sort of things and most I can muster as an intellectual bid is that Cary Grant was supposed to do James Bond but couldn’t commit to multiple picture deals.

It says here…”Food comas typically result in a person feeling drowsy or fatigued. Some people also feel bloated, sluggish, or less alert, and may also be distinctly uninterested in being active…”

Yeah. Its also known as Postprandial Somnolence. 

So, there you go. Food coma. I kinda like it, grown fond of it, thinking of adopting it and calling it Postprandial Somnolence proper. So that I make sure I don’t have to deal with that stupid thing again. Adieu….

 

 

Ponniyin Selvan (2022)

In the 1991 film, Thalabathi, there is a song sequence in which director Mani Rathnam paid tribute towards Japanese master filmmaker of past, Akiro Kurosawa’s – Sundari Kannal Oru Seythi. The song features Samurai Rajini, the baddies in similar war costumes, several horses, mostly shot between legs, with close-ups of  horseback sword fight, shot MTV style to gently mask the lack of budget properly required if they were going full force for that sequence. It was a dream to have that scene filmed in full glory.

That dream is realised by Mani Rathnam through the spectacularly re-imagined work of literature giant Kalki Krishnamoorthy’s epic tome Ponniyin Selvan. It was such a huge book in the size of content, characters, intrigue and most importantly the rich setting during the Chola Dynasty that would have had producers and studios pawn their old negatives to get that budget – if they still have it, the negatives I mean.

Mani Rathnam tapped on all the available resources, multiple name casts, award winning technicians, and the best effects services offered and put together perhaps on one of the most important films to come out of Tamil film industry since, well, Karnan. No not that one, this small film I mentioned came out in 1964.

Taking cue from Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan, we are brought into the middle of a battle right from the beginning (in fact, the very beach attack scene, albeit with arrows and the rock trebuchets that looks more like imported from medieval England, but what do I know). Even the uniforms looks more like the mighty Romans of the Caesar era than the simpler ones I saw in a smaller flick on Rajaraja Cholan by Nadigar Thilagam Sivaji Ganesan (Rajaraja Cholan, 1973)

After the battle scene, the film follows Vandhiyadevan’s (Karthi) character as he takes us through his road trip on horseback through in different kingdom, after he had fought side by side with the story’s supposed protagonist Aditya Karikalan (Vikram, because he got top billing). There are politics, intrigue, romance, more fight sequences and most importantly the joie de vivre of being transported to a different time that makes this film an incredibly delightful experience – on big screen that is.

The story in a hand of an amateur would be convoluted, but Mani was wise to let us stay with Vandiyadevan for clarity’s sake as he takes us to meet many characters, manage obstacles with his witty quips, laser-mouthed observations, while flirting with girls ranging from queen to a boat rower, and here and there, unsheathing the sword for some good ole boys' beheading and dismembering fun. He is aided by rather unrecognisable Jeyaram, and both together are sort of classy, epic version of Sathyaraj and Goundamani and I mean it by most honourable way.

My complaints are two. One, using chaste Tamil is awesome, but oh how it could have been made smoother, cooler, and used in the most classical sense with cutting wit, and aesthetically exhilarating prose that made the earlier period films stand tall among classics. Mani’s penchant for brevity in dialogues is carried over, though thankfully not clipped like the ones he deploys in the films with contemporary setting. So, the beauty of Tamil language is not what you will find here.

Speaking of beauty, Aishwarya Rai is indeed central to the flick, and I applaud Mani for finally giving strength to a female character, but it was there in the book. Aishwarya, forever one of the worst actors to be celebrated in that country, continues to be frozen faced and gets to say lines that specifically denotes what she feels, lack of facial expression doesn’t matter I suppose. But I am not kidding about the iced (Ais?) face – you have to see it to believe it. Don’t be distracted by her beauty pageant disposition that she had successfully maintained over the decades, just look at how her face alone is lighted, and positioned for the camera. Stick her photos on an animatronics mannequin and you won’t be able to tell a difference. Even her famously famous Miss Freeze-face cohort Trisha gets to move some facial muscles.

Of the gals, the other Aishwarya, that is, Aishwarya Lekshmi stands out as Poongulazhi, the boat gal. Gosh, she was such a delight, as an independent woman, who could handle men, boat and the tame the sea just as she tamed any being. She's feminine and yet could handle the boat like a season seaman. She puts Vandiyadevan in his place, when he tries his world-famous charm on her. He's good, she's better. But being overfilled with characters, time with her had been mercifully small – I wanted to see more of her.

Vikram’s screen time too is considerably low, compared to Karthi, but he was ably cast, mostly with poses, and the growls and the roars that he had perfected over the year. There was hurt in his character, something broke his heart and ego, and this actor managed to deliver it without any goddamned prosthetics.

There are so many who’s who in every scene, which is why this is one of the most important accomplishments in the film. In a lesser flick, the inferior characters are filled with non-actors, or out of job character artistes and it shows. Here, you have the likes of Prabhu (Ganesan), his son, Vikram, and many others, unrecognisable beneath the facial hair filling up ably the roles and adding gravity to them – and the massive amount of beards all around adding weight of course. Casting really matters to a film of this size and Mani’s reputation was enough to rope in as many important stars possible (Kamal Haasan participated by giving opening voice over in his gravelly monotone presentation).

But most importantly, as with the audience that I was with (twice, I was invited again to watch the IMAX version – which was worth it), I am particularly taken to Karthi – there was a sense of Indiana Jones spirit in him. Fun, funny, and even there was an Indy-like fight sequence, that mixes both cleverness and clumsiness that reminded me of the famed fictional archaeologist. Karthi is certainly the Harrison Ford of our industry albeit with more smile, and is versatile, fun on screen, a scene-stealing powerhouse and always a delight to watch. You can say that considering the fact that two third of films lay heavily on his character’s shoulder and Karthi pulled it off affably.

On the score, AR Rahman suddenly remembered the Oscars he had won and went full steam ahead with this one. The songs didn’t register for me, and they shouldn’t because they are meant for elevating the films moments and they did for sure. Thankfully the background scores didn’t try to dominate, and he and his pal Siva Mani went back to the percussion roots to beat the crap out for some of the intriguing moments. But expect more Hans Zimmer than K.V. Mahadevan if you are looking for more Tamil-styled sound – though I would have wished differently from someone who composed the incredible Sangamam songs.

And so, Manirathnam has come back to deliver the promise, the promise that he is one of the best Indian film directors so full of promise once and have, now, he has delivered. Him being a film student is so evident here, as the abovementioned huge nods to Kurosawa, as well as the war films of John Ford, the epics of Cecil D. B. Mille, and Kubrick’s canvas (Spartacus) especially are spread throughout the films – and that delights the film buff in me too.

Really looking forward to part two. Film gods, may you keep Mani in peak condition to one-up this one – it is going to be an uphill task, but he can pull it off for sure. And please, please, I beseech the highly excitable film industry that gets infected by trends faster than COVID, keep Karthi around for a couple more decades at least. He is far more talented than his father and his national award-winning brother combined. He brings that something extra to the table. This dude is a treasure.

 

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