nivedyam – a re-review

Starring

Vinu Mohan, Bhama, Bharath Gopi, Nedumudi Venu, Sreehari, Aparna, Kochupreman, Soumya Suresh

Story, Screenplay, Dialogue

Lohithadas

Camera

Azhagappan

Lyrics

Bichu Thirumala, Kaithapram, Lohithadas

Music

M.Jayachandran

Producer

Omar Sheriff

Director

Lohithadas

 

Right from his debut film ‘Bhoothakannadi’ which won him laurels at the National level, director Lohitadas' favourite topic has been exploring frustrated love; he seems to be obsessed with the theme of innocent love that inexorably comes into conflict with brute force. While one side is invariably loaded with innocence and purity, the other side is dark and evil that looms ominously over the lives of the lovers. In other words, the brute force represents society whose borders and norms are transgressed by the ‘innocence’ of love. The only factor that changes from film to film is the milieu. In his new cliché-ridden film Nivedhyam, Lohitadas places this narrative within a temple and it is this space that sets the stage for the same ill-fated drama to unfold.

It all begins with Mohanakrishnan's (played by the newcomer Vinu Mohan) arrival at an idyllic village in order to pursue his passion for music. There, he is forced to take up the job of a junior priest in the local temple owned by his music teacher, who is the representative of all the old feudal values that Lohitadas idolizes. So, for Mohanakrishnan it is actually a return – he is an ‘unfortunate’ Nambudiri boy, who has ‘fallen’ into the state of resorting to a manual, ‘low’ profession like carpentry. Apparently this fall is due to the ‘progressive’ liberalism of the earlier generation because his idealist-father didn’t think that his family was the end of everything, and was busy reforming the world. And it is the bounden duty of another Nambudiri Brahmin in this generation, Kaithapram (a well-known lyricist in Malayalam cinema) acting as himself, who rights this wrong, by sending him to an illustrious master, and so, back to his rightful place. Thus, in a way Mohanakrishnan regains his lost father in the Nambudiri-landlord who becomes his guru and guardian.

In the village, Mohanakrishnan suddenly becomes a ‘Krishna’ to all the love-starved women around. But his heart is won by Bhama (played by another debutant Bhama), an illegitimate child born to a woman who was lured to the city by cinema. It is the landlord-Nambudiri who protects her. Fatherless like the hero, she is the result of her mother's infatuation with cinema. So, saving her is also atonement for the sin committed by the landlord-brahmin's son, for it was the latter who was instrumental in sending her to the tinsel world. Just when Mohanakrishnan and Bhama’s love flourishes, enter the villain in the form of a relative of her brother-in-law. Caught red-handed in the premises of the temple, and prevented violently in their efforts to run away and make a life elsewhere, Mohanakrishnan is forced to kill the villain. The film winds up with the run-of-the-mill, cliché of the hero going to jail leaving his love behind who promises to wait for him to come back.

To be honest, there is very little to speak about the story or screenplay of the film. The film abounds with various clichés and stereotypes we know so well: the generous sahridaya Nambudiri-landlord, master and patron of arts, the irresponsible drunkard of a brother-in-law, the innocent but 'courageous-till-she-meets-her-love' nubile village belle, the know-all lover (he is adept at music, spiritual and religious matters, and even mural painting!), the wicked sister, the loving grandma etc. As a result, despite some fine acting by the newcomers and some impressive camera work by Azhagappan, the film falls totally flat, being averse as it is to any kind of in-depth exploration in either its treatment or theme.

Recent Malayalam cinema has dwelt for too long in this claustrophobic space of the upper caste milieu, its manners and customs. Once it dares to come out of that pretentious ivory tower that it believes itself to be living in, and out into the open and to the joys of labour and celebration, it would be much more true to its spirit and that of Malayalee life and times. For that, Malayalam cinema desperately needs some fresh air, new thoughts and yes, some joyous abandon.

Dr C S Venkiteswaran, is a Kerala based film critic who has won state and national awards for film direction and film criticism. He is now Director, School of Media Studies, Kochi, Kerala. He writes regularly about film in various national and international journals and handles a weekly column 'Rumblestrip' in New Indian Express.

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