Film perspective etc etc

A melon, when it should have been tiramisu

Was there ever a movie whose first half easily merited three-and-a half- stars (from the toughest) of critics, possibly four stars from others than ‘Aayirathil Oruvan’, only to lose a couple of them in the second half? When the basic premise, that you take a story forward to some logical conclusion, is missing, what can you do but throw up your hands in bitter frustration? It is akin to ordering a tiramisu, but ending up with quartered water melons and musk melons!
As a reviewer, I get two kinds of responses. One, where people tell me they choose to go at once or postpone watching a movie, based on my review, only because my taste appears to gel with theirs. These include lawyers, those in the film industry and ordinary people. The other type occasionally marks its presence with a hate call. But the one thing I am often asked is why I am not lavish in praising the big stars or directors.
It’s like Harbhajan scoring 70 runs as a one off thing, and Sachin’s score, be it 10 or 100 runs. Which is discussed thread bare, each time? Likewise Kamal, Haasan, Suriya, Gautham Menon, Shankar or Selvaraghavan. TThey are the Sachin Tendulkars of Kollywood. And when they make ordinary mistakes, or offer a melon instead of tiramisu, no matter how sweet or rare the melon, it is not a tiramisu.
A film has to have a perspective. Look up the Oxford dictionary and it will tell you: ‘ perspective: a mental view of the relative importance of things.’ And this perspective is what I was seeking in AO. After winding up the audience to full key on the important things, he treats us to a gladiator thingy, with not very good CG. The depth and complexity in Anitha’s characterisation is awesome, and I kept awaiting the great moment —when the Chola prince Parthiban realises her treachery—expecting clash of wills, personalities or even action., Such a great scene, with so much potential. But Anitha spits on the ground and walks off.
Now look at the perspective on Muthu. In the first half (leave aside his quick repartees and charming take on a sassy coolie, you expect nothing less from an actor who scored a ton (in acting) on his debut film, ‘Paruthiveeran’), he is prescient enough to know that you should not trust Anitha. Even without the tiger tattooed on his back, you know he has native intelligence to ferret out things. But Selva shackles him up in chains and throws him in a dungeon, and diverts us with the gladiator show, and delves on the mood in the camp prior to the departure.. Where is the seed for the sequel? Why focus so much on a Chola prince (prince only, because the child is never crowned) when you are going to kill him? Once released from the prison, the macho Muthu hardly turns his mind to the problem at hand. If he were a royal Chola protector in earlier times, shouldn’t his senses be working overtime? Are we supposed to believe that Anitha’s agenda was only to kill Parthiban, and not worry about the child and heir who is in plain sight all the time?
So many questions, and hopefully we will have the answers in the sequel, but buddy, we should have had that tiramisu this time itself.