Prithviraj Sukumaran and Shammi Thilakan play an update of the stubborn, ego-fuelled characters in ‘Ayyappanum Koshiyum’. But this action-drama set around sandalwood trees and smuggling has far too many flaws to make an impact. That’s the short take. A longer review follows, and it may contain spoilers.
Bhaskaran is a pure-white politician in the village of Marayoor, which lies beside a forest filled with sandalwood trees. He not only dresses in pure white, he also claims his reputation is pure white. He also claims that as long as Bhaskaran is in the party, Bhaskaran is the party. Shammi Thilakan plays this ageing, immodest character with a beautiful mix of pompousness and vulnerability. There’s also some theatricality, but then, you could say that about the entirety of Vilayath Buddha, directed by Jayan Nambiar. Bhaskaran’s pure-white reputation takes a beating when he falls into a pit filled with shit. The villagers mock the stench he is found with, and it becomes his burning desire to die on a sandalwood pyre – so that he is remembered as having the most fragrant farewell possible. The title refers to a rare kind of sandalwood tree, which is of great demand in the illegal export market.
A brown-faced Prithviraj plays a sandalwood smuggler with a number of names, like ‘Double’ Mohanan and Kochu Veerappan. The actor, by now, knows his way around these massy heroes who are local legends, and – to the extent that the script will allow him – he is solid. Like Bhaskaran, he has a mission that’s aligned with sandalwood. He wants to smuggle enough to make money to lay a road that connects the hilltop village to the nearest town. Mohanan is in love with Chaithanya, played by Priyamvada Krishnan with spirit and exaggerated spunk. She is turned on by Mohanan’s machoness, and she is the third person in this story with a goal. She is the daughter of a sex worker, and she, too, wants to wash off the “stench” of her mother’s reputation (or lack of it). The narrative trajectories of Bhaskaran, Mohanan, and Chaithanya converge in a three-hour film that – by the end – makes you feel you’ve sat through a marathon mini-series.
Vilayath Buddha is based on the book of the same name by GR Indugopan, and the author has written the screenplay with Rajesh Pinnadan. They have apparently decided that every single thing in the book should make it to film, and the movie feels like every single shot that was filmed has been retained with utter faithfulness. Scenes go on forever. There are subplots like Chaithanya’s flirting with another man, and these add nothing to the primary narrative. Characters like the cop played by Suraj Venjaramoodu make you wonder why they exist. In addition, there are “mass” elements like the two punks that pose a threat to Mohanan’s livelihood. The fights also go on forever. In a novel or a short story, a small bit like a man seeking Bhaskaran’s help to get a loan may come off like a flavourful touch. In a film, it becomes an indulgence – rather, yet another indulgence.
Had Vilayath Buddha stayed close to the arcs of Bhaskaran and Mohanan, it could have been another Ayyappanum Koshiyum. It could have been another study of rampant male egos. But the book’s shadow looms large on the film, and the metaphorical dialogues land like ten-ton bricks. In case we hadn’t already heard enough about sandalwood, Bhaskaran points to the tree’s parasitic nature, because it draws nutrients from surrounding plants. Similarly, he sighs, men thrive on the pain of others. The film is always interesting at a basic “what happens next” level, but it is never gripping. Given the high standards of recent Malayalam cinema, it’s surprising to find something where you can step out for a bathroom break and still find the same fight or song or dramatic scene going on. And the Drishyam-like twist at the end feels like a last-minute add-on. The dramatic title is easily the best thing about this disappointment.
