I miss Sachy, the writer-director, terribly. As someone who met him in person and knew of some projects he wanted to direct, I wish he were still here, directing. Vilaayath Buddha was one of the films he would've made if not for his untimely demise a few years ago. When it was announced that his longtime associate Jayan Nambiar would take over, I was strongly apprehensive, right before this morning’s show. I’m happy to report I could feel the spirit of Sachy in most — if not all — places in Vilaayath Buddha. That should come as a relief, I suppose.
Let me make this clear. Jayan Nambiar is not Sachy. No other Malayalam filmmaker can replace him. However, if a film ventures into familiar areas that Ayyapanum Koshiyum and Driving Licence (which Sachy wrote) have, and like those films, knows a thing or two about the boiling point of human blood, delivers the necessary catharsis exactly when our minds are ready for it, and aims for some moving redemptive arcs, I believe Jayan has done considerable justice to his mentor. In fact, Vilaayath Buddha is an excellent and assured directorial debut, if not entirely flawless. It works well as a commercial entertainer and has the advantage of not being a run-of-the-mill entertainer.
The source material — GR Indugopan's novel of the same name — toys with enough unusual ideas and cinema-friendly scenarios that, unless the producers were dumb enough to give it to someone incapable, there was no chance of going wrong with it. To start with, it has two attention-grabbing characters in the form of Bhaskaran (Shammi Thilakan) and Double Mohanan (Prithviraj Sukumaran). The makers had the good sense to start the film with the former's story, because everything revolves around him. He is, in fact, someone who prefers to have everything revolve around him. There is no place for dishonour and shame in his vocabulary. But what if, one day, he gets caught in a situation that, through no fault of his own, taints his reputation to a great degree?
It's not just Bhaskaran, a former schoolteacher-turned-panchayat president, who has to live in shame, but every other major character in this story, beginning with Mohanan, his ladylove (Priyamvada Krishnan), her mother, and Bhaskaran's son (Anu Mohan). But here's the difference between Bhaskaran and Mohanan, the latter's girlfriend, and her mother: The last three, despite their backgrounds, have made peace with who they are long ago; they are unapologetic, and walk amidst the crowds with their heads held high. On the other hand, the once-proud Bhaskaran retreats from politics and begins living as a recluse, looking after his garden and his prized possession, the sandalwood tree after which the story is named.
Casting Shammi Thilakan as Bhaskaran was a brilliant move because one cannot help but think of all the Mohanlal-Thilakan films where the two played father and son more than twice, constantly at odds with each other. Vilaayath Buddha comes close in tone to Spadikam, a Mohanlal-Thilakan classic in which the latter played the extremely strict school-teacher father of a rowdy son played by the former. The only change here is that Prithviraj and Shammi are not playing father and son, but they could've, and the film wouldn't have missed a beat. But that's not Indugopan's story (he co-wrote the script with Rajesh Pinnadan). Vilaayath Buddha combines two interesting ideas: Bhaskaran's obsession with an unusual solution that could finally free him of the unbearable stink (literal and figurative) and Mohanan's vulnerable 'mass hero' who is presented as a threat to the former's objective. Difficult to pick sides because both characters have qualities worth rooting for, regardless of their flaws.
Priyamvada Krishnan, who already proved herself capable of taking on powerful roles with that impressive debut in Thottappan, demonstrates once again that she can hold her own in a film featuring two heavyweights from different generations. Her character is as adventurous and lusty as Mohanan, on board with any crazy idea that comes to her lover's head. It's a Bonnie & Clyde relationship, except that these two are not murderous criminals on the run. And since this story was born in the imagination of Indugopan, the inclusion of unexpected humour, sometimes in the most heated situations, shouldn't come as a surprise. One example has somebody seriously threatening another with a shotgun, to the point of making us believe that this person is capable of pulling the trigger, and just a second later, we can't believe we are laughing at a shot of two allies trying to flee with their slippers. Sachy was good at this sort of thing, particularly in Ayyappanum Koshiyum. That sort of instant emotion-switching is not easy, but it works.
As for the fights, Vilaayath Buddha should be a treat for anyone who seeks punches and kicks that elicit the response, "Hell yeah!" The last film that made me feel this way was Thudarum. And, of course, both films share the same gifted composer, Jakes Bejoy, whose work in Vilayath Buddha is not what I would call his best, but it gets the job done. Two cinematographers are credited, Aravind Kashyap (the Kantara films) and Renadive ("Driving Licence"), and I do not know who did what, but I’m guessing they both should be credited for managing to extract some tension out of the right places, such as the fast chase sequences and fiery confrontations between Mohanan and his rivals. If the comparison to Sachy’s work is avoided and this film is seen as a first-time director’s work, one comes to the conclusion that Jayan Nambiar is a man who knows how to direct. Indeed a good time at the movies.
Film: Vilaayath Buddha
Director: Jayan Nambiar
Cast: Prithviraj Sukumaran, Shammi Thilakan, Priyamvada Krishnan, Anu Mohan
Rating: 4/5
