As an interpretation of the Kannada film Lucia, Enakkul Oruvan works a little. It is a simple enough story, of course. Of a man who wants to become a star. And a superstar who seeks a ‘normal’ life.  The Lucia pill promises a bit of both. Two vastly different lives …on a different plane.

Prasath Ramar may have visualized Enakkul Oruvan as a romance with a touch of fantasy. But it isn’t the conventional kind that holds in this version. More than the snatches of romance between Vignesh and Divya, the touching moments between Durai (a superb Naren) and Vicky, theatre owner and usher, are far more appealing.

That’s the kind of love that lasts beyond strife.

Packed into this conflict between dreams and reality, is some witty commentary about filmmaking today. Its idiosyncrasies and tropes are shown for what they are, and make for some hilarious sequences. For instance, in the scene in which Srushti Dange’s Thanushree is questioned about her inability to dub for herself, the actress, who’d offered herself to Siddharth (in flawless Tamil) in the beginning of the film, lapses into broken Tamil.

For a film that attempts a spoof on conventional tropes in cinema, it is surprising to see the way Deepa Sannidhi’s Divya has been portrayed. As an actress, she abandons her love for a shot at stardom. As a pizza delivery girl, she is turned off by Vicky’s (poor) job prospects and inability to speak English.

Women… Prasath Ramar can be heard muttering to himself.

Audibly.

Siddharth draws us into the film. As the superstar aching for privacy and unconditional love, he is at his best, but as the ‘torch guy’ Vicky, he falters initially. The dialect and dark-face takes a while to get used to.

And when his relationship with pizza delivery girl Divya takes off, the film becomes better, with sweet little interludes that make us smile. A far cry from the urbane lovers Siddharth usually plays, this seems a daunting prospect at first. But he quickly masters it. The moments involving darkface Vicky are whimsical in an otherwise dark film. But Prasath Ramar lets loose John Vijay in these scenes, and he’s wonderfully wacky.

Thirukumaran Entertainment’s retinue of actors make an appearance here as well. Aadukalam Naren has a crucial role to play in the proceedings, as does Ajay Rathnam as Paranjothi, a police officer annoyed at some unnecessary interference in his case. The Thegidi villain plays a doctor in this piece, while Ramdass who was a revelation in Mundasupatti, dons a serious role and looks ill at ease.

As always, Santhosh’s background score elevates the film; as do the crowd pleasers – Prabalamagavey and Yendi, superbly shot and with some cool moves. Leo John Paul’s editing is an integral part of Enakkul Oruvan’s success as well. The non-linear narrative of the film works purely because of the way the editing has been handled.

The movie bears all the hallmarks of a CV Kumar production – a screenplay with a difference, top notch technical team and sterling performances from the cast. Yet, it is difficult to shake off the disappointment that lingers when the credits roll. All that talk about English knowledge and ‘space’ aside, it is an engaging enough movie. But not one with a lot of heart. And definitely not one that should be (unfairly) compared to the original. These are two very different films after all.

When I walked out of the theater after watching Enakkul Oruvan, I had this sense of immense contentment. Not only because I felt the team had done perfect justice to Lucia, but also because people appreciated the movie – they stood up and applauded in the end.

Siddharth’s love for the art is clearly palpable with the kind of scripts he has been choosing over the past few years. The inspiring part is that he has been doing befitting justice to the characters he plays – be it Kaliappa Bhagavathar, Karthik Subramani or Vicky. The ease with which he pulled off the torch man’s character in Enakkul Oruvan, with a peculiar body language and the apparent manner in which he dubbed for that character (with head raised up), undeniably motivates other young actors to do more work of such sorts.

Enakkul Oruvan drifts from scene to scene effortlessly – kudos to editor Leo John Paul for seamlessly taking us through two different extremes of life. Santhosh Narayanan has sprinkled his magic all over the movie yet again with his fingers that say abracadabra each time they come in contact with a musical instrument. It is the simplicity in the music and the editing departments that helps us wade through the complexity of the script.

I would request the audience to go on time for this movie as you might not understand the scheme of things if you miss the first fifteen minutes of the film. I say this because a few gentlemen beside my seat came in late and they had no clue of what was happening on screen.

However, as I walked out of the theater, I overheard some people say that the movie will work only in the A center. I had a few people tell that to me in my personal twitter space too.

But, I feel that classifying audience into A, B and C is clear racism. We don’t hold the right to sort people under alphabets according to the way they dress or the language they speak. I might be wrong, but I somehow feel that 60 percent of the people in theaters are influenced by the other 40 percent. If a few people clap for a particular scene, it surprisingly becomes contagious. When there are cat calls for boring scenes there are chances that it may influence the people who actually like it.

I would like to share an experience as an example to this. I watched the Malayalam movie “Kaakka Kuyil” about four times in the theaters. Each time with different people.  The movie is a comedy film starring Mohanlal and Mukesh. Although I chuckled through the comedy scenes in all my four watches, I laughed my head off when I watched it the fourth time as I had watched it with a crowd who thoroughly enjoyed every scene and were laughing hysterically throughout the movie. I realized I was influenced here.

So what center should I be put in? A, B or C? I feel we are discriminating a person’s intelligence when we mark them as C and depriving people from light heartedness by labeling them as A.

According to me there are only two classes. L and D.

L – LIKED the movie

D – DISLIKED the movie

And these two classes will change within a person from movie to movie.

So which class do you fall under after watching Enakkul Oruvan?

 

Abhishek Krishnan, behindwoods.com