A woman in a car is being chased by a truck carrying four guys who look like rapists. For some reason, even in all this commotion, she's at the driver's seat steering away while her husband chills in the back seat, faking panic. This woman seems to communicate through screams. And she doesn't seem to be able to shut up. By the end of the day, when the four men are tired and worn out, one of them says "I need to take rest, da." ROFL. Screenwriter, do you enjoy being laughed at? Do yourself a favour- retire while you still can. Half the dialogue exchange between the actors is just loud, piercing cries. Imagine that on the script- vowels lined up against each other, page after page. The chase lasts all the way up to the intermission. One. Big. Gimmick.
By swapping the second half of the story with the first, filmmaker Gandhi Marx just gives himself the false hope of turning this into a success. But Pollangu was destined to be a failure. The placement of the music numbers only ascertains it. There are two music numbers and they fit here with as much cohesion as an intermission does with a Hollywood movie. That they first made the music numbers and then the film, is evident here. When they finally had both, as two separate pieces, they decided to somehow stick one into the other as if they were aiding some kind of abnormal copulation.
The second half of the film, which is actually the first half of the story, shows us how this happy couple got dragged into the chase. The characters lack basic cognitive functioning and their antics make them detestable. Pollangu is sure to ruin your day.
I suggest you see for yourself. You wouldn't have seen anything like it and you never will. I should warn you though- this pathetic excuse for a chase film becomes torture porn. Treading on necrophilia, Gandhi Marx shoots up the gore. While that would be fine had it had at least a pinch of realism, it doesn't. This is downright ugly.
Critic: Rohit Ramachandran
(0.1 / 5) : Poor