Vivek Athreya’s ‘Saripodhaa Sanivaaram’, with Nani, SJ Suryah, and Priyanka Arul Mohan, is a well-written masala movie

One thing we could have used is some more energy in the staging. Still, the film proves that Vivek Athreya is one of the most unique voices out there.

The big question about Saripodhaa Sanivaaram was whether director Vivek Athreya, who has so far made films that are soft and romantic in nature, could handle the Big Indian Masala Movie (™). The answer, at least on paper, is a big “yes”. The story centres on Surya (Nani), who is prone to anger and violence. Due to a promise made to his mother (Abhirami), he agrees to unleash this side of him only on Saturdays. (I was reminded of Prashanth Neel’s debut Ugramm, which was also about an angry young man’s vow to his mother.) The way this aspect is revealed is fabulous: it involves writings on a wall, a bit of rain, and the mother’s sari. I had goosebumps. These are the near-mythical moments that have almost vanished from masala cinema, now that “mass” has become the flavour of the day.

The mild-mannered man who conceals a superhero has been done to death. But the screenplay, for the most part, is so meticulous that a separate review may need to be done for the writing. Yes, some parts do not work as well as the others. The way the sister character (Aditi Balan) is woven in and out of the narrative is not convincing. We already have two villains, the siblings played by SJ Suryah (the character is named Dhaya) and Murali Sharma (Koormanand) – so a third villain in the form of Ajay Ghosh appears unnecessary, and adds nothing by way of new threats. A stretch involving sleeping pills does not produce the high that it should. The way Surya’s backstory is revealed to a therapist (and therefore to the audience) is very wordy, and it ends with an unsavoury bit about child abuse.

But here’s the thing. This stretch with the therapist involves Surya’s father, and the fact that this man explains things about his son to a potential “victim” finds a solid echo towards the end. Koormanand is introduced in a scene where he wants to find out who tried to kill him, and this finds a solid echo later, when, again, Koormanand faces an assassination attempt. There is a line of dialogue about the oppressed people of a locality named Sokulapalem, about them taking a step forward – and this is echoed later in a visual about them taking a step back. I could go on: for instance, the way the hero meets the heroine and the villain at the same time, and the way her attraction to him is established in a beautiful stretch that follows (a kind of accidental first date), and later, the way she is introduced to oppressive violence that makes her rethink her own stance on non-violence… Beautiful!

Priyanka Arul Mohan plays this woman, a junior cop named Charulatha, with poise and just a hint of attitude. It’s her best performance since Doctor. She isn’t there just as a love interest. She actively helps Surya, and just as her own stance on non-violence changes, she brings about a change in Surya’s stance on violence. Talking about saving the people of Sokulapalem, Charulatha asks Surya if his fight is just so that his own anger is appeased or whether those people will be helped, too. This brings about a difference in the way Surya thinks, and kickstarts the events of the second half. Saripodhaa Sanivaaram is a film that respects its women, even the half-written ones like the sister. I wish the “little girl in danger” cliché had been avoided, but I loved this advice from a mother who is teaching her daughter to cook. “Just because you know how to cook, you don’t have to spend all your time in the kitchen. Like what you learn at school, think of this as another subject.”

So much of the writing is so good that I was willing to overlook Jakes Bejoy’s overbearing score. I was willing to overlook the monotony in the fights, which are the same boring variations of punches and cable stunts. The high point is the series of scenes between the characters played by Murali Sharma and SJ Suryah, who have their own little cat-and-mouse track going. There’s a spectacular “mass” moment when we think one thing is going to happen and it goes an entirely different way, and the finishing touch with the water bottle is worthy of several whistles. There is a reason Dhaya – the SJ Suryah character – hates the people of Sokulapalem and inflicts so much torture on them. He is not a random psycho. He is a… rational psycho. And SJ Suryah’s unhinged performance (just look at the way he pronounces Charulatha, drawing out the vowels) is a perfect foil for Nani’s warmth and likeability. When the villain is as strongly written as the hero, the whole film goes to a different level. It transcends its flaws.

Saripodhaa Sanivaaram is made for the big screen. Cinematographer Murali G gives us rich, wide frames, and the colour palette is so lovely that I almost wanted a dance number. It’s a relief, though, that there are no unnecessary songs. One thing the film could have used is some more energy in the staging. When Suryah walks into a police station at a crucial moment, the scene should explode. On paper, the moment is genius but a bit is lost in the translation to screen. But for now, this film proves that Vivek Athreya is one of the most unique voices in mainstream cinema. Whether it is the intimate moment of a woman talking to her mother about her love life or the big “mass” moment involving a young man who has a thing about clocks, the attention to detail is rare to find in a masala movie. He is as much the hero of the film as Nani is.