For some reason Drishyam reminded me of RGV’s Bhoot where Ajay Devgn spent a good amount of screen time going up and down elevators. And looking scared, thoughtful or protective when he was in his house. He does a lot of bike riding in this film, and jeep driving and bus commuting and frowning and thinking. The man still uses his eyes well. Remember him as Bhagat Singh, peering from the other side of the noose? But now, he is a commercial commodity rather than an actor who once won two national awards for just pure histrionics. Now he is Bajirao Singham and the miscast funny guy in the Golmaal franchise. His body has been buffed up so much that it strains out of even his middle-class clothes in Drishyam. And in many scenes, his moustache is just a painted shadow. And he is Ajay Devgn rather than Vijay Salgaonkar, a harrowed father of two. Ironical that the boy who once made it big because of his raw talent and gumption rather than star power is now too starry to fit into an ordinary part. He has his moments though but they do not last long especially when you see him romancing Shriya Saran, his screen wife whose distracting shoulder-blades, designer blouses, high heels, curled hair and flawless make-up break the illusion of a middle-class couple living a simple, unvarnished life.
Ironical too that Devgn chose a much younger Saran to star opposite him rather than Tabu, his Vijaypath co-star who could have lent some amount of believability to the role of a sheltered, non-glamourous wife. As it turns out, despite the build-up and flashy sound-effects hailing her entry, Tabu is miscast as a tough woman who wears her authority and her uniform like a second skin. Her scenes work only when we see her face and hear her speak in a measured, menacing voice. Or when she is crying in her husband’s arms (the ever reliable and solid Rajat Kapoor lending refinement and grace to his under-developed role). However this role needed someone with the presence of a Sushmita Sen or Richa Chaddha.
Also you sense an inherent dishonesty in the way an adoption story is woven in to show that Devgn’s Vijay and wife Nandini are too young to be the parents of a teenager. The only note of authenticity in the film is Gaitonde (Kamlesh Sawant). Sawant is brilliant in his portrayal of a greedy, corrupt cop looking for a chink in Devgn’s armour.
That said, the only other star of the film is Jeethu Joseph’s mind-bending story that has struck gold every time it has been remade though the Malayalam version towers over the ones that followed.
The story works as always because of its inherent plot hooks and the mind games played around a murder and a cover up, Director Nishikant Kamat’s most memorable film still is his 2008 Hindi debut Mumbai Meri Jaan and this film owes all its strengths to its plot and little else.
The cinematography by Avinash Arun has a moody quality and the story holds you in its grip but it is hard to forget that this film is a quick short cut rather than a layered offering made with care.
And you end up itching to go back home and catch the bumbling but devastatingly shrewd Georgekutty played by Mohanlal, using everything he has to protect his family from the aftershocks of an unexpected crime.
**
with The New Indian Express Reema Moudgil works for The New Indian Express, Bangalore, is the author of Perfect Eight, the editor of Chicken Soup for the Soul-Indian Women, an artist, a former Urdu RJ and a mother. She dreams of a cottage of her own that opens to a garden and where she can write more books, paint, listen to music and just be silent with her cats.
Superb review, Reema. Its indeed hard to beat the original Drishyam in Malayalam. After all, Mohanlal is a class act.
Its perhaps the understated and realistic acting by all the actors in the Malayalam original that sets in apart from all the “remakes” that followed.