One of the beginning dialogues from, villan 1 to villan 2, “Nammuku
yethiri irunthaal thaan, vaazhavum mudiyum valaravum mudiyum” – Only with the
existence of life-long enemies, we are able to live and progress-certainly
reminded me of work and workplace. Watching ‘Rekka’ was very similar to sitting
through a meeting at workplace.
Boss shows some data that has no direct relevance to my life or for the next 55 years of life. Then screens the agenda which could have been a short email message. Moving on, to talk about what was spoken in the previous meeting and what needs to be done. Speaks about vision and mission for the 345th time. Mentions how we, workers, are wasting time during our breaks. As the rest seems to be listening and arguing about matters that don’t matter to me, I take out my phone and start facebooking.
Boss shows some data that has no direct relevance to my life or for the next 55 years of life. Then screens the agenda which could have been a short email message. Moving on, to talk about what was spoken in the previous meeting and what needs to be done. Speaks about vision and mission for the 345th time. Mentions how we, workers, are wasting time during our breaks. As the rest seems to be listening and arguing about matters that don’t matter to me, I take out my phone and start facebooking.
My mood goes ‘offline’. I simply don’t bother or contribute. I don’t move an inch unless there is a fire breakout. Even then, I rather jump into fire than to be in this meeting- Watching Rekka was exactly like this. Within 10 minutes of the film, I went ‘offline’.
Films are often seen as the perfect ‘escapism’ however embarrassingly
predictable films like ‘Rekka’ coerce you to escape from this escapism. I would have left the theatre but it was
raining heavily outside.
The hero doesn’t only kidnap young brides from their forced marriages
to save them but at one point, kidnaps an 80-year-old grandma and conducts her 60th
wedding anniversary at the temple. Hero utters, “naan punch dialogue
pesamatten, punchu punchaa pesuven”, reiterating the fact that he is not a
punch-dialogue hero but a hero who talks gently. Then came the introduction
song. VS’ moves reminded me of my kindergarten school dance movements when I swayed
my hips awfully. His entire being moved with a purposeful clarity in the famous
“Makka Kalanguthappa” in Dharmadurai.
With each stride he made in “Makka Kalanguthappa”, it became more painfully obvious how much heart he put into his routine to perfect his moves. Here, it was a pity to see him struggle. Not that he shouldn’t be dancing, but what he is capable of, is more than a typical Raju Sundram’s hero introduction song.
With each stride he made in “Makka Kalanguthappa”, it became more painfully obvious how much heart he put into his routine to perfect his moves. Here, it was a pity to see him struggle. Not that he shouldn’t be dancing, but what he is capable of, is more than a typical Raju Sundram’s hero introduction song.
Probably in the fear that someone would accuse the heroine for
not acting, she smiles, giggles and raises her eyebrows to emote shock at the
most inappropriate places- when the hero kicks the barricade, you see her in
the frame, grinning for no reason. She has basically chosen a role that
requires her to do nothing but stare unblinkingly and act thoughtlessly. At
this moment, I was already thinking of what to eat for dinner later, just like
how my mind wanders off during brainless meeting.
When I beam with pride that Tamil cinema has successfully come a long way from frying eggs on heroine's belly, such films engulf me with fear that we
are taking a U-turn to crack more eggs.
For all that talk of heroism that shrieks in the trailer and
teaser, VS is also saddled with an ill-etched part that doesn’t tap his acting
potential. It’s a role that’s more reckless and over confident than pragmatic.
Why else would he blindly forge a bond with an unintelligent rowdy who watches
a football match on tv in the middle of a 10-hectare coconut-tree field? That
rowdy evokes unintentional fun than fear. Interminable boredom was punctuated
by moments of terror. Things could have been improved with even a smidgeon of
character development.
In the climax fight, Lakshmi Menon voluntarily asks the
villan to put a knife at her throat so that upon seeing that, VS’s blows on the
villan’s face would be powerful and impactful. I wish someone had done that to
the scriptwriter and director, so that there would have been a more sensible
film.
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