1 out of 5 (Poor)
Contrivance is the starting point of Marupadiyum Oru Kaadhal. When it finally reaches the finish line, it's inexcusable and unforgivable making it worthy of being in Kollywood.
Rohit Ramachandran Sun, 17 Jun 2012
Contrivance is the starting point of Marupadiyum Oru Kaadhal. Fine, sometimes life is contrived. So, I'll let that pass. A poetry writing competition picks a boy and a girl as winners, inviting them to London for their felicitation ceremony. The boy is touched by the girl's poem and so is she. She says "What an expressive line, you touched me a lot." As predicted they fall in love. They haven't met each other but they've spoken online about poetry. Meet our hero and heroine.
The London-based girl leaves for India, to pursue her higher studies, in accordance with her father's wishes. She forgets her password and leaves her phone behind with a caretaker who is always in a drunken state. They lose touch. But somehow, she ends up joining the same college he does and living around his neighbourhood. Marupadiyum Oru Kaadhal continues to feed off of contrivance. They even get married against their will; since they are both still in love with the poets they hope to meet someday. This is six years after they lose touch.
Vadivel's comedy track runs in parallel with the main story. It's like a commercial that doesn't repeat itself, popping up from time to time to give us a break from the story. It's acceptable since the main storyline hardly takes itself that seriously. Also, the contrivances need to be spaced well so that their holistic contrivance is minimized in the viewer's eyes. Okay, I'll admit that Vadivel's antics as an untrained doctor were mildly amusing. But what's with the snake bite jokes? I just saw one featured yesterday at Murattu Kaalai. Here's another instance of snake bite. A woman is bit on the lips by a snake and the doctor sucks out the poison. Then she wakes up and says "Unga treatment romba tasteah irundhadhu."
There are enough unsolved problems in the lives of these characters. Why introduce random rapists and make them 'almost' rape her. I highlight almost because as long as it doesn't actually happen, it doesn't matter. Kollywood treats rape with the same degree of care and gravity as it does, say, chain snatching. It's a bad situation that almost happened but it didn't, so there's nothing to worry about. The aftermath of nearly being raped is no big deal. What about security? What about feeling powerless? What about the trauma of what could've been? You fools, living through consequences is the hardest part.
Up to a point, the movie is bearable because it's unambitious and takes itself less seriously. After that, it becomes overly melodramatic. There's a pointless storyline involving a little girl and her operation, which of course is to be performed by our hero. The girl and her family are complete strangers to the film. And we remain stone-faced at the sight of them crying over a dead child. What a weak attempt at milking sentiment.
Director Vasu Baskar just loves blowing things out of proportion.The hero comes home drunk and throws up. The entire family grieves because their divine child has just roasted his liver for the first time and is probably going to turn into one of those drunkards we chance upon, lying by the side of the road. Another instance has the heroine crying because her billionaire father (He offered a dishonest employee one million pounds and fired him) has been reduced to the destitute state of needing to take an auto rickshaw. Hang on, there's more. The hero and heroine aren't sleeping together as they should, being husband and wife. It sends a quake through the entire neighbourhood. Everyone seems to want to be involved in their sex life. Finally, when the film reaches the finish line, it's inexcusable and unforgivable, making it worthy of being in Kollywood.
Critic: Rohit Ramachandran
1 out of 5 (Poor)