27 Nov, 2020 Tamil
2 hrs 2 mins Drama
Critic's Rating: 2.5/5
Yen Peyar Anandhan opens with a note from noted cartoonist-critic Madhan, which is the equivalent of a foreword that we find in books. At one point in the film, a character compares a good film to a good book, so this nicely ties into that view. This might also be considered as Sridhar Venkatesan mentally preparing his audience for what is to come. We get a prologue of sorts involving a beggar boy and the national flag. The overtly melodramatic tone of this portion actually makes us worry about what might be in store for us.
And then, we learn that this happens to be a Cannes-worthy short film made by the protagonist Sathya (Santhosh Prathap, in a role that seems to be a throwback to his debut Kadhai Thiraikadhai Vasanam Iyakkam). He is about to make his feature film debut, which, he describes in the press briefing as "a big-budget, commercial project". But then, on the day of the shoot, he is kidnapped! Who has taken him hostage and what do they want?
Right from the outset, Yen Peyar Anandhan keeps trying to tell us that it doesn't want to be a regular Tamil film. If not anything, the film is certainly ambitious. For a while, it keeps us unsettled over what is happening. Scenes cut away before they end forcing us to keep guessing who the characters are and where things are going. But what this disjointed narration - which seems to be intentional - does is that it fails to make us engage with characters. Both the writing and the making lack of finesse. Rather than revelations that happen organically, we get information dumped on us. The characters aren't fully developed. Take the case of Sathya's wife Savithri (Athulya Ravi). It is a character that is strictly functional. We never get a sense of the relationship that the couple shares.
As for the kidnappers. We get enough 'clues' to understand that this kidnapping has got something to do with films. The walls of their hideout are plastered with film posters. There is an antique TV set playing Raththakanneer. One of the kidnappers is named Marlon Brando, and he keeps mimicking popular Tamil actors. Another one wears a mask that resembles a plague mask. They keep questioning Sathya on why he wants to make films and play him his own short films, offer their verdict on them, and lecture him on what good cinema is. And the actors are all stiff. The film is a wannabe experimental cinema, which is both good and bad. On one hand, there is a genuine yearning to be different. But on the other, we get quirks that are mostly forced, especially because the filmmaking is stagey.
Thankfully, the storytelling becomes smoother in the second half, as it settles into a familiar structure. We realize that the kidnappers are essentially typical vigilantes, even if the cause that they are fighting for seems new. We even get the Big Flashback that is a staple of vigilante films. As in Seethakaathi, cinema is seen as the last refuge for a dying art. If it was a theatre in that film, it is koothu here.
But the film's ideology seems pretty narrow. The film conveys the message that cinema is a value system, not merely entertainment. It is certainly a lofty ideal, but should we straitjacket cinema into just that? Should all films only reflect life? What is wrong with films being just plain escapist fun? At one point, one of the kidnappers complains that while many other film industries make good films - we get the usual Bengali (read Satyajit Ray), Malayalam, and Marathi films argument) - the Tamil film industry does not. It seems such a contradictory statement coming from someone who has posters of Kaaka Muttai, Visaaranai, Aaranya Kandam, Aadukalam, and Kuttrame Thandanai on his walls, and had only in a few scenes earlier criticized the hero for talking about Akira Kurosawa and Majid Majidi while not knowing MK Thyagaraja Bhagavathar!
That said, even if we don't have to buy into the film's ideas, the earnestness with which it goes about its work kind of makes us look upon it a bit more favorably.
And then, we learn that this happens to be a Cannes-worthy short film made by the protagonist Sathya (Santhosh Prathap, in a role that seems to be a throwback to his debut Kadhai Thiraikadhai Vasanam Iyakkam). He is about to make his feature film debut, which, he describes in the press briefing as "a big-budget, commercial project". But then, on the day of the shoot, he is kidnapped! Who has taken him hostage and what do they want?
Right from the outset, Yen Peyar Anandhan keeps trying to tell us that it doesn't want to be a regular Tamil film. If not anything, the film is certainly ambitious. For a while, it keeps us unsettled over what is happening. Scenes cut away before they end forcing us to keep guessing who the characters are and where things are going. But what this disjointed narration - which seems to be intentional - does is that it fails to make us engage with characters. Both the writing and the making lack of finesse. Rather than revelations that happen organically, we get information dumped on us. The characters aren't fully developed. Take the case of Sathya's wife Savithri (Athulya Ravi). It is a character that is strictly functional. We never get a sense of the relationship that the couple shares.
As for the kidnappers. We get enough 'clues' to understand that this kidnapping has got something to do with films. The walls of their hideout are plastered with film posters. There is an antique TV set playing Raththakanneer. One of the kidnappers is named Marlon Brando, and he keeps mimicking popular Tamil actors. Another one wears a mask that resembles a plague mask. They keep questioning Sathya on why he wants to make films and play him his own short films, offer their verdict on them, and lecture him on what good cinema is. And the actors are all stiff. The film is a wannabe experimental cinema, which is both good and bad. On one hand, there is a genuine yearning to be different. But on the other, we get quirks that are mostly forced, especially because the filmmaking is stagey.
Thankfully, the storytelling becomes smoother in the second half, as it settles into a familiar structure. We realize that the kidnappers are essentially typical vigilantes, even if the cause that they are fighting for seems new. We even get the Big Flashback that is a staple of vigilante films. As in Seethakaathi, cinema is seen as the last refuge for a dying art. If it was a theatre in that film, it is koothu here.
But the film's ideology seems pretty narrow. The film conveys the message that cinema is a value system, not merely entertainment. It is certainly a lofty ideal, but should we straitjacket cinema into just that? Should all films only reflect life? What is wrong with films being just plain escapist fun? At one point, one of the kidnappers complains that while many other film industries make good films - we get the usual Bengali (read Satyajit Ray), Malayalam, and Marathi films argument) - the Tamil film industry does not. It seems such a contradictory statement coming from someone who has posters of Kaaka Muttai, Visaaranai, Aaranya Kandam, Aadukalam, and Kuttrame Thandanai on his walls, and had only in a few scenes earlier criticized the hero for talking about Akira Kurosawa and Majid Majidi while not knowing MK Thyagaraja Bhagavathar!
That said, even if we don't have to buy into the film's ideas, the earnestness with which it goes about its work kind of makes us look upon it a bit more favorably.
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