Anniyan

What can you say about a filmmaker who has the sheer audacity to make a 28 crore movie to tell you, his audience, that every little rule you have broken, every little “harmless” transgression of yours and even the slightest non-conformance which you think is insignificant has all together contributed to the pathetic, backward state your country is in today? What can you say about him, when even after telling you all that, he makes you leave the theatre fully, wholesomely entertained? Do you call him something on the lines of a big thinking, utopian, idealistic, romantic? Of course not. You call him exactly and precisely that.

The premise:
Shankar always seeks to embed a strong social message in his grandiose creations. Having explored his pet theme of corruption, to the fullest, he arachufies the arachufied maavu with some embellishments in a sparkling new grinder. The point he is trying to make is that we have become so accustomed to breaking the smallest of rules that it has become a cancerous malaise that our society is ridden with and this is the strongest impediment to our progress, leaving us far behind our peers like Singapore and Japan on the road to development. He may have made a well known, obvious yet valid point there. But this malaise has become so hopelessly deep rooted that it has become second nature to us to break rules, and ideas of transformation can be termed utopian at best. However, what does make Anniyan interesting other than that phenomenal scale of thinking, is the weaving of this social message in a fabric of intriguing mythology-the Garudapuranam the Hindu equivalent of the Judgment day which is uncannily like Dante’s The Divine Comedy.

The rape:
Shankar’s greatest forte is his perfect understanding of the power visual imagery can wield on the audience. The extravagance and opulence screams out in every frame of his songs. The breathtaking tulip gardens in Amsterdam for Kumari; the sets for the Andankakka number boasting of intricately painted houses, lorries, ambassador cars, rocks, roads and boulders; the attention grabbing, music video style Kannum Kannum Nokia shot in the all glass-and-steel Kuala Lumpur airport. These are visuals that don’t merely seduce you. They rape you out of your senses and leave you totally, absolutely awe inspired.

The actor:
When you walk out of Anniyan, you get this overpowering feeling of having seen a single actor movie. The role is tailor-made for Vikram, the cinematic rules of multiple personality disorder allowing him maximum scope to display his phenomenal acting prowess. The scene where he rolls on the floor his alters struggling with each other and the awesome interrogation scene where the alters appear in repetitive succession show that Vikram is in an altogether different league of actors.

The Action:
Call it inspired, plagiarized, borrowed.Yet the long drawn matrix style martial arts fight is almost flawlessly executed. There is a choreographed orderliness which is immensely appealing, the graphics are almost seamlessly inserted and we have the ultimate ingenuity in a desi style five headed snake routine in which the fighters move in formation against Vikram.

The pain-in-the-posterior:
The demands and the compulsions of the story dictate that one of the alters has to be timid and submissive- adjectives that seem to have a irritatingly clichéd association with the image of a Tamil Brahmin, someone, who would be called a typical pazham. In a movie that seeks to be so far ahead of the times, such an antiquated characterization stands out like a sore thumb. At times, Vikram’s acting looks like he is caught in between the genders and instead of looking like the chicken heart he is supposedly portraying he looks like , forgive my expression, an absolute pussy.

The power of words:
Dialogues that would seem utterly artificial, gratingly corny and totally preachy in any other movie adopt a completely realistic form in this movie. Sujatha is on the ball and check out these gems:

“Neenga sattatha kaila edukkardhu nyayama”
“Neenga sattatha odaikkalaam, Naan adha kaila edukka koodaadha”

“Ivalo china thappukku kolaiya?”
“Idhukku ellaam yaaru kolai panna porannu dhaane alakshiyama thappu panreenga”

Miscellenia:
Harris does a spectacular job in the background score especially in the eerie chants that resound whenever Anniyan appears. But in the end, when there are images of a transformed society, you can hear a snatch of Rahman's Vande Matram playing in the background, a subtle yet noticeable acknowledgement of his absence. And of course, Vivek is at his rollicking best in a rather timely return to form.


The verdict:
There is irony in the fact that Shankar who made the ‘Break the Rules’ Boys follows it up with 'Don’t break the rules' Anniyan. Probably a reflection of lessons learnt in life. Anniyan is the quintessential big budget entertainer, though the adrenaline rush which you get by relating to the protagonist, which is characteristic of a Shankar film is conspicously missing-like you don’t egg him on to beat the crap out of the baddies and you don’t exactly jump out of your seat rooting for him. That’s likely due to the fact that it is not the hero but one of his multiple personalities doing the good on screen. And scarily it is even more likely due to the fact that you have been steeped and soaked in a society of habitual rule breakers, that the significance of a few rules side stepped doesn't hit you that hard!