Big Screen Reunion

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t five years since I stepped into a multiplex to see a film, but it was more than that since I bought a single ticket, and strolled into the theatre on a Friday morning to watch the second show of Vishwanath and Sons.

If I did not faint at the price of a tub of popcorn (over Rs. 500) it was because I had actually gone to the theatre to see Aadujeevitham in 2024 and come abreast with prices. But that overall movie experience had left me scarred. The film was so unremittingly bleak, with each moment of the protagonist’s suffering delineated with such detail, and zero relief of any sort, that I thought being at home and able to fast forward or switch channels was a much better bet in dealing with such cinematic offerings.

Besides that, I stayed away from splashing on a big ticket at the theatre because there were a series of films, all containing the word ‘Files’ in their names, or with names like War or War2, Kill, Agni and whatnot. You get the drift. Leaving the comfort of home to be treated to propaganda, or an ear-splitting endurance test watching blood-soaked violence just didn’t seem worth it.     

Occasionally, this would give me a pang of regret. After all, I had been an avid Friday movie goer for a significant chunk of my life. I liked to watch a film and make up my own mind about it, before reading the reviews or hearing about it from my social circle. And if this meant that I was not able to find another person to go to the theatre with on a Friday, I would go on my own, waiting with a big crowd to enter the theatre just before the show, overhearing their comments and gauging their anticipatory mood. Popcorn was not essential, even in the days when it cost only double digits, but seeing the film fresh from the studios was.

On Friday, 14th August, I was looking forward to seeing what had been billed as a “family film,” starring Suriya, whom I had filed for many years in my mind as the handsomest man in the world. I had not thrown even a crumb of information at my curiosity or anticipation as to what the film would hold. Here’s what unfolded.

Two elements jumped out at one the minute the story started – Suriya as Sanjay Vishwanath was simultaneously the richest man in the world, or at least the country, and a gold medallist shooter for India at the Olympics. Even if this was a nod to our own Abhinav Bindra, it made me wrinkle my nose for a few minutes. But I needn’t have worried. The rest of the story was told with enough twists, and some genuinely emotional moments to make it an engaging watch.

The beginning of the film brought home the fact of Radhika being a diabetic 65-year-old mother of a son who was refusing to get married, in spite of this being her dearest wish. “Help!” I thought. “Did I choose to see this film, or has the film chosen me?”

As the minutes wore on, my tension eased, and the film began to explore the option of surrogacy. While the usual over the top flourishes can be expected of a mainstream Telugu/Tamil film, I found the way in which Vishwanath and Sons navigated the realm of parenting and family relationships sensitive and reassuring. While there will be many detailed reviews of the film by dedicated movie critics and fans, for me the most important takeaways were the not so obviously stated ones.

How do we make our way as adults through the dilemmas and difficulties that have haunted us because of our parents’ life choices? The film keeps bringing this up, and there is a clear message of moving on from hurt and resentment to acceptance of one’s own agency. Because our lives are long, and as is said more than once in the film, hate and anger run out of steam.

Another point that hit home was made hurriedly by Raveena Tandon near the end of the film, but it was one whose truth I knew from the family courts of Chennai and Lucknow. “When a woman decides to end a marriage, it is final,” my lawyer had told me in 2006. “If a man approaches the court, there are still possibilities for reconciliation, but it is the woman who decides the fate of a relationship.”

I may have gone to see the film out of my Suriya fandom, but I really loved the ebullient Mamitha Baiju, who got all her histrionic cues perfectly right. She lends palpable weight to the film positioning itself as a vehicle for more modern values, whether it is more liberal attitudes towards how women carry themselves, or how they show solidarity with each other. Her chemistry with Radhika is genuine and uplifting, and her smile lights up the screen in the most refreshing way. 

While the film has some avoidable detours, like the whole runaround with Nasser as the miffed uncle, and could cut quite a bit of the fluff around Sanjay Vishwanath’s unimaginable wealth, reach and influence, it left me with no regrets for having ventured out of home on a solitary mission.

In fact, I felt so enthused and empowered by my Friday reunion with the big screen, that I began to consider seeing Awaarapan 2 for Emraan Hashmi!