![]() ![]() The year has already seen the release of Mysskin’s Anjaathey, and going by the laws that govern Tamil cinema – commandments such as the one that says, Thou shalt not cast a heroine unless she knoweth not the language, or the other one that goes, Thou shalt fall on all fours before the hero and sacrifice every other consideration about the film at the altar of his magnificence – there weren’t supposed to be any more nasty surprises in the form of cinema as cinema (and not just cinema as a commodity hawked at the intersection of the A, B and C centres), at least till Bala came out with Naan Kadavul.ĭoesn’t M Sasikumar know this? Doesn’t he know he can’t just spring out of nowhere and dazzle us with craft and control and give us one of the best first features ever made, so wonderfully written and so beautifully shot and put together? Doesn’t he know he’s got to make tinny excuses about not having the support system of a multiplex culture or not being able to rope in saleable stars, and therefore end up making a highly compromised work – with item songs like Kathaazha kannaala – that merely exhibited promising slivers of his talent, rather than one that showcased him as a fully-formed visionary who appears to have done for the bloody bylanes of Madurai what Scorsese did for Little Italy in Mean Streets? ![]()
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