//
you're reading...
-[Film Reviews]-, South Asian Cinema, South Indian Cinema

More Malayalam Movies: ‘Thottappan’ (2019) & ‘Kasargold’ (2023)

Directed by: Shanavas K. Bavakutty [1], Mridul Nair [2] || Produced by: Devadas Kadancheri, Shailaja Manikandan [1], Vikram Mehra, Siddharth Anand Kumar, Suraj Kumar, Rinny Divakar [2]

Screenplay by: P. S. Rafeeque, Francis Noronha [1], Mridul Nair, Sajimon Prbhakar [2] || Starring: Vinayakan T. K. [1, 2], Dileesh Pothan, Priyamvada Krishnan, Roshan Mathew [1], Asif Ali, Sunny Wayne [2]

Music by: Leela L. Girish Kuttan, Justin Varghese [1], Vishnu Vijay, Niranj Suresh [2] || Cinematography: Suresh Rajan [1], Jebin Jacob [2] || Edited by: Jithin Manohar [1], Manoj Kannoth [2] || Country: India || Language: Malayalam

Running Time: 137-140 minutes

Malayalam-language cinema, the films of the southernmost Indian state of Kerala, have long been an overlooked regional cinema for me relative to the rest of South Asia. Unlike, say, Pakistani, Nepali, or Bangladeshi filmmaking (i.e. South Asian films produced outside India, now the world’s most populous state), whose filmmaking communities are modest at best and rarely play to audiences outside their borders, the films of Kerala are considered by many in the regional diaspora to be communicable to general audiences of all backgrounds while also not resorting to the usual high-concept blockbuster fare of industries like Bollywood (i.e. popular Hindi cinema based in Mumbai), other South Indian film cultures like Telugu or Tamil cinema, Hollywood, or mainland Chinese cinema. The Malayalam film industry’s reputation within India appears to be highbrow, more drama based, and smaller in scale a la much of independent American filmmaking compared to the musical or action-based movies produced elsewhere in India’s other ethnolinguistic film stables. You can find dozens upon dozens of these Malayalam dramas on popular, ubiquitous streaming platforms like Netflix, all of which look relatively intelligent, introspective, and kind of the same, so random sampling may be required to discover the true gems, as is common with most viewers’ initial exploration of a new moviemaking culture.

Thottappan follows the life of lead Vinayakan, a small-time crook from a coastal Kerala village who adopts his longtime friend’s daughter once his colleague disappears after a job gone wrong.

Like most random samples, you should expect a healthy mixture of good (e.g. Neram [2013], The Priest [2021], Kappela [2020]) to mediocre (e.g. Mumbai Police [2013]) to bad results if you’re not letting your personal biases cloud your sampling procedure. Both of today’s subjects, unfortunately, fit more into the latter two categories than the former. Thottappan (“Godfather” in English) is a beautifully shot yet inconsistent, at times unfocused drama about a professional thief (prolific Malayalam actor Vinayakan T. K.) who becomes a surrogate father to the daughter (Priyamvada Krishnan) of a deceased former colleague and close friend (Dileesh Pothan); Kasargold (a play on the name of the Kasaragod village), on the other hand, is a loud, obnoxious, weirdly stylized caper crime thriller about a low level smuggler (Asif Ali) and villager civilian (Sunny Wayne) who attempt street justice on the former’s gangster employers through a haphazard, convoluted scheme that devolves into endless chase scenes, bad fight sequences, and an overall wasted premise. Both films suffer from the stereotypical Indian filmmaking problems of lax feature-length editing and longwinded runtimes.

Unlike Kasargold, a strong, recommendable film exists somewhere within the theatrical edit of Thottappan, which runs at least half an hour too long at 140 minutes and is built atop an admirable adoptive father-daughter relationship between Vinayakan and Krishnan. Their chemistry is memorable and we see their relationship grow through effective montage sequences as well as extended dialogues. Bolstering their strong characters is the immaculate physical background of Thottappan, the islets and coastal mangrove ecosystems on the outskirts of the city of Kochi, which imbue the story with an unforgettable small town aesthetic appropriate for the slice-of-life dramatic tone of most of the story. That story even climaxes with several narrative twists, including a notable spike in on-screen violence, that end the movie on an emotional note.

So what’s the problem, here? Again, the movie lasts way too long and features too many forgettable minor characters, unnecessary scenes, and various subplots that don’t go anywhere. I liked Thottappan’s relaxed, laid back vibe, but repetitive conversations between Vinayakan and his local Catholic priest (Manoj K. Jayan) overstay their welcome, a “cute” senior citizen telephone romance has little to no payoff for the main characters, and Pothan’s character death should’ve only been implied off-screen, not shoehorned into the film through a literal split-second cutaway edit.

Kasargold is, in many ways, an easier film to dissect than Thottappan because of how much of a mess it is in both screenplay and direction. Though it opens with a dark, dramatic prologue, that sequences matters little to the rest of the film (a running problem with the script; think the opposite of The Empty Man’s [2020] unforgettable short film prologue), as the story falls apart not long after its central premise of two guys conning an elaborate precious metal smuggling ring is revealed. The film is almost as long as Thottappan, yes, but its directorial weaknesses are perhaps more problematic than its bloated, confusing screenplay. For one, the film piles so many elaborate fistfights into its story that it feels like it’s trying to run away from its otherwise fun caper crime premise, and the fights themselves… my God, what incompetence. I appreciate how Karsargold’s budget was probably too small to afford the distracting, boring slow-motion photography common to Telugu and Tamil action films, but in their place are brawls so overchoreographed and poorly executed that they look comical. Even the quick cutting and shaky-cam style of the 2000s era Bourne (2002, 2004, 2007) ripoffs (e.g. Taken [2008], Mile 22 [2018]) are preferable to this amateur hour.

Lead Asif Ali stumbles from drug addled comedy to awkward fight sequences throughout Kasargold, one of the most misguided crime films I’ve seen in years.

In the end, these two films showcase how the smaller budgets and more modest narrative scope of independent or independently minded cinema aren’t necessarily superior to the excessive budgets, FX, runtimes, and preachiness of mainstream blockbusters. Thottappan on the surface has all the ingredients of an awards-worthy indie drama about coastal village life in Kerala, and to a certain extent maintains that stature despite a baffling 2-hour, 20-minute length and its forgettable supporting cast. Kasargold, though, is a weak man’s imitation of a classic Guy Ritchie caper crime comedy whose engorged length is arguably the least of its problems. Though Malayalam cinema no doubt has plenty to offer on the international stage and presents a nice counterbalance to the vapid emptiness of bigger budgeted South Indian or Bollywood movies, their smaller stature doesn’t prohibit grave filmmaking missteps.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

SUMMARY & RECOMMENDATION: Thottappan’s appealing central characters, memorable village backdrop, and strong conclusion imply a solid movie is just a fan edit away from its current format, while Kasargold is a case study in how to confuse your audience through longwinded screenwriting and overbearing action direction. Both films are the cinematic equivalent of biting off more than you can chew.

—> I’m ON THE FENCE with respect to Thottappan and DO NOT RECOMMEND Kasargold.

? Why was Priyamvada Krishnan the only adolescent/young adult female in her entire village? It seemed like the demographics of her town consisted only of little kids and middle-aged to older adults.

About The Celtic Predator

I love movies, writing, and big, scary creatures.

Discussion

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Pingback: ‘Shaitaan’ (2024): The Enigma That Is Indian Horror | Express Elevator to Hell - May 29, 2024

Am I spot on? Am I full of it? Let me know!

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Archives