Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Pissaasu (Devil)

Maniratnam mentions in "Conversations with Mani Ratnam" that a film maker should ideally try to hide the structure or constructs that his film stands upon, and to him, that sets apart a great film from a merely good one. You could easily spot structure within Mysskin's scenes - set pieces that are deliberately setup and torn down. I don't know if this the structure of a film that Maniratnam talks about, but these set pieces set apart Mysskin (Baradwaj Rangan already reckons him an aueter) from his peers with a significant body of work like Selvaraghavan, Gautam Menon and Bala.

A case in point is the road accident scene, with which the film opens, showcasing an injured woman faintly smiling as if in a trance. This scene brings to fore the thematic connectedness in Mysskin's work (Anjathey and Onaanum Aatukuttiyum), playing out as an act of compassion that pivotally alters the course of a good Samaritan.

Mysskin is clearly aware that abrupt context switches don't work well in his scheme of things. He quickly dispenses with the mandatory song (the violin strains are mesmerising), and replaces flashbacks with less flashy, difficult to execute monologues that hit the high emotional notes (like the fable in Onaanum Aatukuttiyum), and Radha Ravi is in his element here. But interestingly, Mysskin stays faithful to the horror movie genre in the first half. A high rise apartment, a stalled lift, an exorcist and an autistic kid that could interact with the ghost, all the boxes are ticked. Obvious products of Mysskin's style, are the simple, but extremely beautiful visuals. The scene where 'Aavi' Amala vets the house, and momentarily stares into the exhaust, takes the cake. The film cuts into Amala peering at the exhaust, and she casually breaks her observation and gets on with her work. This was creepier than the actual scary scenes that follow.

Newcomer Naga fits the role of the protagonist perfectly. With a violin in hand, a mop of hair covering a side of his forehead, a beard, stooped shoulders that keep his head perpetually hung low, give him a eerie presence. In fact, he looks like the personification of a lost lamb (a perfect choice for Onaanum Aatukuttiyum?).

It is evident that Mysskin operates in interest of time. He perfectly times when to shift gears, and after Radha Ravi's monologue, the film changes track into a murder mystery (or an accident mystery, in this case). If the first half hammered the nail into the genre elements, the second half is more of soft nudges - Bhavani glides in and out, instead of flashing abruptly in your face. While in other films, Mysskin's set pieces existed in isolation, here he is able to tie them together in a neat rug pulling act. You can also see that the truth about the tomb, helps bring the film to a quick closure (Also the ice factory setup, my brother adds).

 The thing that struck me the most after watching Onaanum Aatukuttiyum, is how pointless the film would seem without the stylistic treatment. The only movies that I know of, that would seem pointless without the treatment are in fact, horror movies. According to my limited movie viewing experience, almost every other film Mysskin made was effectively a horror film, without the need to scare. With Pisaassu is Mysskin able to transcend the genre? The chilling tale the charlatan spins, talks of a young woman along with a foetus, buried into a well. The motive speaks of revenge for murder, and possibly rape. That's how horror movies ususally work. The ghost always wants a revenge. Changing the dynamics between the ghost and the desire to extract revenge, Mysskin caps his story with a brilliant ending. A clever way to transcend a genre is to subvert it.

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