THE COCK-TALE, YET AGAIN!

DIRECTED BY K.V. ANAND

STARRING: JIIVA, KARTHIKA NAIR, AJMAL AMEER, PIA BAJPAI, PRAKASH RAJ, KOTA SRINIVASA RAO, JEGAN, D. SURESH and SONA HEIDEN

That ‘Ko’ is a sloppy political drama is obvious at many levels. On the other hand, I do not see it as a convincing action thriller as well, something along the lines of a ‘Rambo’ or a ‘Commando’ where we take a vow of ‘no questions asked, none answered’. A shame, actually, considering the amount of effort put in production value, I just demand a little more in perspective. It is miserable to see a thing fail at its strongest point, and K.V. Anand as a third-time filmmaker (after ‘Kana Kanden’ and the preposterous ‘Ayan’) had not defied logic as much as his peers do. As commendable as that sounds, it’s hurtfully abused – be it in the convenient blast radius in multiple instances, a total undermine of the armed forces and an ill-painted picture on Chennai city’s mobile reception. 3G or no 3G, you should try getting good signal on voice calls, let alone video of such quality!

Nevertheless, the film is intelligent in its own regard. And well-explained, considering it did answer a few of my questions – quite interestingly at that. The staff photographer Ashwin (you never need to laud Jeeva for adding value to character, for he does it almost like a duty) is not just excessively proactive, it’s the coy girl reporter Renuka (Karthika Nair, whose tall stature is so obvious that it had to be pointed out!) who’s misunderstood. The jabs at self are appreciated, but it would have been better suited to ‘run’ an English language daily than a Tamil one although the plotline could suggest the contrary. The household is warm, spirited and you find yourself part of the scenario – a rare feat for a Tamil language feature film these days (something reminiscent of Radhamohan’s entertaining ‘Payanam’).

It’s always enticing to watch cinema as a critical medium, even exciting to watch it being self-critical. Plagiarism is never tolerable, and that the film should open in nearly the same way as Ben Affleck’s riveting ‘the Town’ did is inexcusable; a loud laugh. Who cares if it came out as critical to the plot, that’s how it was written in, in the first place! The music score is sleep-worthy and yet a nightmare in excess. Composers should learn the art of keeping quiet, they’d be surprised to know how much it works. The sequences are too hazy, it would’ve been nice to have punctuated them with some amount of poise. More focus on the drama than the action would have made this a winner – the photographer is unwittingly made a poster-boy than a succinct centerfold.

The world can swallow its own ashes, but the Hero returns unscathed. Not only that, but he also makes the wisest of decisions in the most accurate of times. He romances not one, but two dazzlingly-clad women of which one conveniently dies to clear the route. So does the other male, a typical closure to sexual tension. But then again, it’s good that the writer-director sought to accessorize such clichés instead of letting them play around unexplained, as is the usual case with films around here. I shall not explain that anymore, for spoilers would definitely hurt – the twists are more or less what constitute the reign of this mildly-tolerable ‘Ko’.

A HAIRY MESS!

DIRECTED BY NATHAN GRENO & BYRON HOWARD

WITH THE VOICES OF MANDY MOORE, ZACHARI LEVI, DONNA MURPHY, BRAD GARRETT, JEFFREY TAMBOR, RICHARD KIEL, M.C. GAINEY, PAUL F. TOMKINS and RON PERLMAN

I do not understand Walt Disney productions’ obsession with fairytales, and this recent offering of theirs called ‘Tangled’ only strengthens/legitimizes my opinion. While its step-sister studio at Pixar so brilliantly crafts every single of its brainchildren to near-perfection, Disney, I felt, has always been muddled with its choices for film production, as is easily observable in the shoddy, mediocre live-action films it springs once in a while (the likes of ‘the Gameplan’, ‘Enchanted’ and so on). ‘Bolt’ was a relief, and I shall not raise a word against the brilliance of its ‘the Princess and the Frog’. ‘Tangled’, to me, did not sound like a wise option to pin the persona of the studio and the founder himself and I gave it a shot to see how much it proved me wrong.

Looks like I’ve won my bet at the expense of a half a billion dollars. That’s how much the film would go ahead to make, I’m sure.

Where do I start? The gimmicks? The actual fall? Believe me, I don’t need the thickset trusses of one Miss Rapunzel to jump out of this tower that would have me elude all sense, namely the movie. I’d take my dive even if it’s a crash than having to survive the wreck otherwise! Here is a film with such wannabe sweetness that it’s repulsive, for a fact. And the stereotypes, such stereotypes! I would be devastated if the makers suggest this to be a ‘tribute’ to the legend of Walt Disney, who enjoyed breathing life into the many tales that lay forgotten in the chasms of tender minds, for it has neither the flair nor the imagination that so made him stand out from Producers of his age. And I speak for the studio as well.

If this music score is from the man who sprung together the extravaganza of ‘the Little Mermaid’, then there can be no higher dishonor than to mention it to him; stir some nostalgia, pray for him to redeem himself from the clutches of modern mediocrity. Mandy Moore as Rapunzel is manslaughter, the voices are dreary, even gruesome. The humour is forced, it’s a kick in the guts if you don’t laugh – I boast of wounds of refusal. I cannot even commend the animation, there has hardly been an effort in that department. Why this film was not sanctioned to be hand-drawn makes me surprised – is that not the rightful tribute in essence? That Disney’s 50th venture is a reversion to its past? Surely one does not need public opinion to take that choice!

To be disappointed is to understate. I have never been this repulsed by an animated venture since ‘Chicken Little’. To say that with this I have failed to view the film through gullible ten year-old eyes is merely an excuse – how many films has this very studio produced masterpieces enjoyable by both children as well as adults before? It so happens that this is not one such, I would advice to not put kids through this either, for this is the fever, not the candy. Just a way to scrape something for the inventory, in a world where people would pretty much watch anything that moves.

FLIES LIKE A HIPPOPOTAMUS, STINGS LIKE... SETH ROGEN

DIRECTED BY MICHEL GONDRY

STARRING: SETH ROGEN, JAY CHOU, CAMERON DIAZ, CHRISTOPH WALTZ, TOM WILKINSON, EDWARD JAMES OLMOS, ANALEIGH TIPTON, DAVID HARBOUR and JAMES FRANCO

I’m still not past my Rogen-trance and neither is he. I guess that’s two good things for the film world, giving a sort of double scope for appreciation and a little less of a chance to look/be looked down upon. One of the predominant reasons why I actually chuckled when looking through the roster of actors who could have played ‘the Green Hornet’ in versions that so rightfully fell through. Mark Wahlberg? George Clooney? Nothing on the old man, of course, but I cannot see the foolhardy, clumsy-to-death villain of a hero being played by anyone else. I mean, if not Seth Rogen, it’s no one else. And that’s not a measure of magnanimity that he thrusts into character, but a mark of his own cartoony persona – Jonah Hill could perhaps play the Hornet, but he’s not old-looking enough for Tuxedos. Or so I feel.

Once it’s clear that the Hornet would most definitely distinguish himself from the long list of superheroes who have literally scraped the bottom off of Hollywoodland, there’s not much for the director to do except to play his set-pieces well, and that pretty much involves getting them right in the first place. Christoph Waltz is hilarious; ingenious even, at times. In a performance where he barely cracks a smile, his Bloodnofsky shows to be one of the funniest supervillains of all times, comparable to Steve Carell’s Gru in ‘Despicable Me’. He comfortable abstains from thrusting any vicious energy into his role, even for an alarming second or so, thus helping the film with its lethargy – a direct indication at the Hornet and most definitely, of Seth Rogen.

A few may commend Jay Chou for his inimitable presence as the unnamed sidekick. Well, I do not commend for presence, I commend for meaning and though the role had meaning, he didn’t. I could replace him with ‘Bolt’ the superdog and it wouldn’t make a difference. Cameron Diaz, on the other hand, I found commendable. She’s a subtle mix of shrewdness and stupidity, a spark of charm, as well as an on-your-toes comic action that makes her Lenora nearly perfect – “one hell of a brainy broad”, as Britt Reid himself puts it. And James Franco exasperates in a cameo, I’m frankly seeing too much of him these days, give me a break! Barring the usual ‘two-faced’ DA, murdered Dad and the wise guy who pats on your shoulder (even if bullet-wounded), there’s nothing else.

A fairly good music score, some nice action and a whole lot of comic effects hovering around, I would give this film writing credits at the most. For all I know, Sam Raimi could have made this film and I’ll still feel the same. I guess it’s more or less a Seth-or-no-Seth thing, the dependence being only too much on him in this than anything else he’s ever been in before. Kind of does a Sacha Baron Cohen, but with a bit of focus about him – guess that’s where Gondry would have come in, to make sure his winning horse doesn’t coke up too much and run the last lap backwards. And he didn’t run backwards – that’s about all that I can say.

AN 'EFFING' GOOD TIME!

DIRECTED BY KEVIN SMITH

STARRING: SETH ROGEN, ELIZABETH BANKS, CRAIG ROBINSON, JASON MEWES, TRACI LORDS, JEFF ANDERSON, KATIE MORGAN, RICKIE MABE with JUSTIN LONG and BRANDON ROUTH

What struck me best about ‘Zack and Miri make a Porno’ is the film’s ability to intermediate between two extremes of parodies – while on the one end it dissects mainstream pornography (a convenient excuse for the raunchiness it hides up its… sleeve) to hilarious extents, on the other it takes its sophisticated jab at how romantic comedies work (our movie needs an ending, indeed!). And the conceptual success of the film hinges on how well it tends to do both – not bad, I would say!

Armouring it further is the intellectual capacity of cast and crew, namely Seth Rogen as Zack Brown, his stereotype – the fearless comic, who piles up line after line but not with the excessiveness of Ellen Page’s ‘Juno’ or the might of Soderbergh’s Ocean lot. He strikes a sublime balance between the intellect and the everyday guy and packages it into a shy, yet shameless semi-nerd who is only as proud as he is embarrassed at himself. The result is a fat kid that grew up without a hike on popularity, characterized by sharp spikes of smartness and wit and an almost-idiotic face that has everything to do with how he looks! Rogen, with an impressive underperformance, looks to be the flag-bearer of comedies to come (and I mean the deuce).

I’ve never seen Elizabeth Banks being in charge – well, she’s technically not in this as well, but all the same, she does her second-fiddle job quite religiously, particularly intriguing in the places where she had to act like she was acting but was not. Perhaps I’m overstating her performance, but what matters is the fact that her Miriam ‘Stinky’ Linky comes out to be a crackle, if not dynamite, as she interestingly elevates herself by letting herself be put down. Kind of how the pauper’s king of the losing game? Except that she’s a winner, obviously, where she gets more than half your attention.

It would be unfair to credit the film beyond these two, considering there was nothing without – a sort of a two-man play where you need a couple more to be the trees. But without the trees, all you’ve got is an empty stage and that’s pretty much what they’re there for – the set pieces of a game that cannot function without. After all, it’s not a one-act porno they’re making!

Here is a film where sexual tension really is sexual tension and nothing more. This is what you call a ‘sex comedy’. And what I liked more was how it was fearless about its content, even excessive at times, proving to be a reflection of lifestyle if anything, diced with a little sweetness for flavour. The end, as always, can only be one and writers these days are having to work between fixed points with the excuse of appealing cinema, but with the fun-ride that it is and its rocket-speed, ‘Zack and Miri make a Porno’ is one of those films that you just feel like sitting through. A bus trip of sorts where all you’ve got to do is just enjoy the view – and in this case, it’s a cruise along the road to El Whore-ado, just by the ‘****-back mountain’.

GUNS ARE FOR COWARDS

DIRECTED BY PETER STEBBINGS

STARRING: WOODY HARRELSON, KAT JENNINGS, ELIAS KOTEAS, MICHAEL KELLY, CLARK JOHNSON, LISA RAY AND SANDRA OH

‘Defendor’ pitches the innocence of angst as a contrast against the calculative might of corruption and almost inspires hope through the course of it. But what disheartened me was that it fails exactly at the height of its brilliance, being as effective a medium of instruction as can be and yet distinctively inappropriate – considering you can’t let your 15 year old kid watch it. That’s unfortunately the fate of an R-rating.

Woody Harrelson’s titular performance as Arthur Poppington/Defendor tickles some nostalgia in form of Hugh Dancy’s expressionless Adam and Ryan Gosling’s teddy-bear-cute Lars, but only to compare. And he does a fine job, consistent with his charm; almost impressive. Painted around this braveness uncalled-for is a range of stereotypes, of which only Kat (Kat Dennings), the self-disclaimed ‘Lois Lane’ equivalent, stands out as the nearly-mean, adamant, hard-headed youngster who does melt, but only for moments. Her attachment to Arthur is stated and expected, although not entirely sensible. So is the smallness of the world they live in, a well-landscaped Canada.

Sandra Oh is another spark to the glow as she instills amusement merely by lighting up the screen with hers, a subtle choice for the soft-spoken, yet firm psychotherapist. She places Arthur somewhere on the lines of a depressed, delusional megalomaniac, a fair excuse that stops one from asking the obvious and ethical question of justice versus revenge – something that elevates ‘Defendor’ beyond the ruthlessness of Liam Neeson’s ‘Taken’. But does ‘Defendor’ even facilitate analysis? Not much, really – a substantial let-down, considering this is a subject that ought to be championed. Besides, while Arthur’s situation and mindset are substantiated to an extent, the same could not be said of his sustenance. What does he survive on? From where does he get all his money, that which he so gladly extends to the nifty Kat? Is that the only purpose that the friend in picture serves?

This is precisely why I wished ‘Defendor’ were a children’s film – so that I can place everything on the tooth fairy and be happy in the end because he gets to go to the moon. But then again, as is the case of all independents, ‘bittersweet’ happens to be the primer code with room for nothing except for hope and that too in the milli-bytes. I’m not saying that I wanted more, but just that when one throws a statement to vouch for typewriters over guns or ‘bling’, I’d like the younger generation to get a hold of it. And that they wouldn’t (and shouldn’t) is what disappoints me most about this otherwise-sweet, exciting and amusing adventure.

FUNNER THAN EXPECTED!

DIRECTED BY ELIZABETH ALLEN

STARRING: JOEY KING, GINNIFER GOODWIN, JOHN CORBETT, SELENA GOMEZ, BRIDGET MOYNAHAN, JOSH DUHAMEL, JASON SPEVACK AND SANDRA OH

Ramona is the kind of girl you could expect to have her nose pressed against the glass, waiting for you to get back home so she could spring from the staircase, straight on to your shoulder, provided that you father her. She would shine your silver lining bright enough to hide your grays, but she could also be ruthless when it comes to battle – enough to squeeze an entire tube of toothpaste into the sink. And she would resist you as much as her nine-year-old mind could propel her to, but all the same, she could do anything if you could inspire her, even crack an egg on her nicely-curled hair. In short, she’s this budding globule of energy hidden inside a vicious package of killer-cute looks and the firmness of an iguana.

So is Joey King.

That’s what contributed to the success of this story, at least to me. ‘Home Alone’ was only as naughty as Macaulay Culkin could get, as much as the whole of the introversion of ‘Bridge to Terebithia’ rested on Josh Hutcherson’s inability/ability to reflect it. It is almost inevitable that good children’s literature has at its helm not just a representative, but the whole package in itself, in form of the protagonist. A bunch of characters scattered around could dilute the impact, unless each could play a hand like in Enid Blyton’s ‘Famous Five’ – and I’m glad that the makers of this film didn’t quite attempt it, for that could mean distorting the levels of empathy, if not trigger a greater diminishment of creativity by means of scattered attention. It is for this reason that it is better to stick to children’s fiction being more or less titular.

I do not stress this point without reason, by the way. One thing that struck me about this film beyond its emotional voodoo (in not exactly a bad sense!) is its shuttle between reality and magical reality, as I shall prefer to call it, for it is viewership through the child’s eye. From garden-hose armies to rainbow-coloured cars and plastic wedding-rings, juxtaposed on a sort of reflection on America’s economic crisis and real-estate booms, the filmmakers look to threaten us with more serious issues if only we were to probe more, the remarkable achievement henceforth being their feat of reducing us to as old as Ramona or Beezus or perhaps Picky-Picky, the pivotal cat (which is still a substantial age, mind you!) – what I mean to say is that the most this film could do to your naughty nine-year-olds at home is inspire hope and make them feel closer to home and comfortably so. But the effect is not the same for the adult viewer, for the film has this uncanny ability to force a regression and feel great about it.

All said and done, this isn’t a film for your kid to grow up with. This is one where you, the adult film-viewer thirsting for an escapade, grow down with and retreat into those cozy (even if embarrassing) corners of pre-teendom where life meant a lot more, with the little sense that it actually made.