While O Kadhal Kanmani worked for me, I thought it was too lightweight given Maniratnam's interesting body of work. I longed for a film that explored relationships beyond the surface level. Almost two years later, Maniratnam is back with Kaatru Veliyidai, a film about two characters who despite being very much in love, don't see eye to eye. A casual argument over whether India should wage a war against Pakistan leads to their first fight. In an era of Trump, Clinton, Modi and Kejriwal, where thanks to TV and social media, political fault lines have extended into our personal spaces, Kaatru Veliyidai might be the relationship drama of our times.
Kaatru Veliyidai is not without its flaws. The writing in the first half is too keen on advancing the plot, and the initial scenes lack a clear motivation and don't jell well together. The supporting characters keep popping in and out of nowhere. This affects the first half's rhythm. Maniratnam is reluctant about letting us onto his protagonists and for some strange reason wants to portray them as enigmas for a while. As a result, you get glimpses of Leela's backstory which seems to hold some promise, but fails to surface in a meaningful way later. Varun's character in the first half like his counter-part in O Kadhal Kanmani, comes across as too cool to get a grasp on.
What rescues the first half is Maniratnam's focused, economical direction, and visual story telling. The turbulence of a plane taking off is used to emphasize a surprising, yet uncomfortable memory the two characters share. The setting of a snow storm is used as a back drop to stage a scene where a conflict arises between the characters. The camera lingers to capture Leela's frustration at not being able to spend the night with Varun, bathing her face in light from the tail lights and head lights of a departing jeep. In another instance at a hospital waiting area, the camera holds the characters in a medium shot, as an argument between them leads to another conflict. When Varun raises his voice in anger, making the fight public, the camera snaps out to a long shot of Varun, and you only hear an echo of his shout. Such economy is rarely seen in Tamil cinema.
These scenes set the tone for a fantastic second half, where Maniratnam is completely in control of the rhythm. The writing finally finds it feet, and with every scene you see Varun's character progressively take shape. You get an initial glimpse, when Varun mentors a new recruit who questions the moral ambiguity of military service. Varun asks him to stare into the mirror, and goes further than Bhagavath Geetha to reduce all human conflicts to a simplistic struggle between good and evil.
This culminates in a well written scene where Varun meets Leela’s bereaving family. Like any self respecting conservative, Varun uses his own perceived sense of virtuousness to float up to a moral high ground, and grudgingly looks down upon Leela’s father. The direction in this scene is also top notch. Leela's father and mother uncomfortably avoid catching Varun's eyes, until Varun proceeds to walk behind Leela and wraps his arm around her shoulder, as if staking a claim on her. At this point, Leela's father slightly loses his composure in an instinctive Freudian reaction, that produces a passive aggressive stare.
When an actor go down on his knees in front of another actor, a power relationship is established between them, where the former yields to the latter who is shown to be towering over the former. Maniratnam fiddles with this dynamic with some interesting staging. When Varun is on his knees 1, Leela does not tower over him, as he is atop the jeep's bonnet. Instead their eyes are at the same level, creating a false sense of equality. Even though his words tell her that he will start seeing her as an equal, they don't ring true. You see the false submission pay off in the following scene, where he shows off how he has her under his thumb.
Karthi might have built a reputation as a good actor, but Varun is not an easy character to play, and brings out the limitations in his craft. To be fair, Karthi is good in parts, especially in the second half when the writing gets better. But you can not unsee him playing a moment of weakness by staring intensely into the screen, as if struck by castration anxiety. This might be a breakthrough role for Aditi Rao Hydari, who makes Leela her own in a consistently good performance that is a controlled portrayal of both vulnerability and intensity. Leela, perhaps was intended to be not fully flushed out; her character summary might have been punctuated by ellipsis. Hydari's triumph is in her ability to bring this punctuation on to the screen.
Maniratnam's visual story telling is able to transfer the film's theme of two characters who don't see eye to eye, onto a visual plane, thereby making scenes work at a metaphorical level. When Leela accepts her role as the lesser partner, before confessing her love for Varun, she draws a closet door to create a separation between herself and Varun, forcing them to not see eye to eye. The blocking here is simple and effective. You see a much more extravagant blocking where Varun and Leela are lying on a bed facing each other, but without seeing eye to eye. As their differences about starting a family drives a wedge between them, Leela turns over and leaves Varun with an ultimatum.
The rhythm carries over to the scenes in Pakistan as Varun's party desperately tries to escape. The way the chase ends left me with a chuckle. The film almost ends on a high, as Varun and Leela finally see eye to eye in an endearing scene. But Maniratnam cops out to play to the gallery, (who have summarily dismissed the film as a mokka padam 2) and the characters accept each other as equals, but only in an Orwellian sense. One can reason that this is keeping with how Leela refuses to let go of her adolescent crush on a man she has never met, and whom she desperately clings onto even after being treated poorly. That aspect of her character remains obscure, and one would have to really squint to see how it shapes the climax. May be like life, she is not perfect. So is this film. But on the other hand, it is at least full of life!
Kaatru Veliyidai is not without its flaws. The writing in the first half is too keen on advancing the plot, and the initial scenes lack a clear motivation and don't jell well together. The supporting characters keep popping in and out of nowhere. This affects the first half's rhythm. Maniratnam is reluctant about letting us onto his protagonists and for some strange reason wants to portray them as enigmas for a while. As a result, you get glimpses of Leela's backstory which seems to hold some promise, but fails to surface in a meaningful way later. Varun's character in the first half like his counter-part in O Kadhal Kanmani, comes across as too cool to get a grasp on.
What rescues the first half is Maniratnam's focused, economical direction, and visual story telling. The turbulence of a plane taking off is used to emphasize a surprising, yet uncomfortable memory the two characters share. The setting of a snow storm is used as a back drop to stage a scene where a conflict arises between the characters. The camera lingers to capture Leela's frustration at not being able to spend the night with Varun, bathing her face in light from the tail lights and head lights of a departing jeep. In another instance at a hospital waiting area, the camera holds the characters in a medium shot, as an argument between them leads to another conflict. When Varun raises his voice in anger, making the fight public, the camera snaps out to a long shot of Varun, and you only hear an echo of his shout. Such economy is rarely seen in Tamil cinema.
These scenes set the tone for a fantastic second half, where Maniratnam is completely in control of the rhythm. The writing finally finds it feet, and with every scene you see Varun's character progressively take shape. You get an initial glimpse, when Varun mentors a new recruit who questions the moral ambiguity of military service. Varun asks him to stare into the mirror, and goes further than Bhagavath Geetha to reduce all human conflicts to a simplistic struggle between good and evil.
This culminates in a well written scene where Varun meets Leela’s bereaving family. Like any self respecting conservative, Varun uses his own perceived sense of virtuousness to float up to a moral high ground, and grudgingly looks down upon Leela’s father. The direction in this scene is also top notch. Leela's father and mother uncomfortably avoid catching Varun's eyes, until Varun proceeds to walk behind Leela and wraps his arm around her shoulder, as if staking a claim on her. At this point, Leela's father slightly loses his composure in an instinctive Freudian reaction, that produces a passive aggressive stare.
When an actor go down on his knees in front of another actor, a power relationship is established between them, where the former yields to the latter who is shown to be towering over the former. Maniratnam fiddles with this dynamic with some interesting staging. When Varun is on his knees 1, Leela does not tower over him, as he is atop the jeep's bonnet. Instead their eyes are at the same level, creating a false sense of equality. Even though his words tell her that he will start seeing her as an equal, they don't ring true. You see the false submission pay off in the following scene, where he shows off how he has her under his thumb.
Karthi might have built a reputation as a good actor, but Varun is not an easy character to play, and brings out the limitations in his craft. To be fair, Karthi is good in parts, especially in the second half when the writing gets better. But you can not unsee him playing a moment of weakness by staring intensely into the screen, as if struck by castration anxiety. This might be a breakthrough role for Aditi Rao Hydari, who makes Leela her own in a consistently good performance that is a controlled portrayal of both vulnerability and intensity. Leela, perhaps was intended to be not fully flushed out; her character summary might have been punctuated by ellipsis. Hydari's triumph is in her ability to bring this punctuation on to the screen.
Maniratnam's visual story telling is able to transfer the film's theme of two characters who don't see eye to eye, onto a visual plane, thereby making scenes work at a metaphorical level. When Leela accepts her role as the lesser partner, before confessing her love for Varun, she draws a closet door to create a separation between herself and Varun, forcing them to not see eye to eye. The blocking here is simple and effective. You see a much more extravagant blocking where Varun and Leela are lying on a bed facing each other, but without seeing eye to eye. As their differences about starting a family drives a wedge between them, Leela turns over and leaves Varun with an ultimatum.
The rhythm carries over to the scenes in Pakistan as Varun's party desperately tries to escape. The way the chase ends left me with a chuckle. The film almost ends on a high, as Varun and Leela finally see eye to eye in an endearing scene. But Maniratnam cops out to play to the gallery, (who have summarily dismissed the film as a mokka padam 2) and the characters accept each other as equals, but only in an Orwellian sense. One can reason that this is keeping with how Leela refuses to let go of her adolescent crush on a man she has never met, and whom she desperately clings onto even after being treated poorly. That aspect of her character remains obscure, and one would have to really squint to see how it shapes the climax. May be like life, she is not perfect. So is this film. But on the other hand, it is at least full of life!
Footnotes
- This scene where Leela accuses Varun of treating her like a dog, reminded me of Gautam Menon's Nee Thane En Pon Vasantham, where at point the heroine accuses yet another Varun of treating her like an item on a checklist.
- To be fair, one need not be an expert film critic to tell if a movie works. But for a film like this, the answer to that question is more personal. Popular consensus is that cinematography is excellent, which is audience speak for direction is good. Not to take anything away from Ravivarman's work, I don't know anything about cinematography so as to talk about his work in a meaningful way.
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