Date Archives December 2018

Maari 2: More Than a Naughty Gangster

Maari 2 is a neatly packed commercial entertainer with a naughty don, an equally naughty herione, humor elements and a couple of fights. The ending of the movie is predictable, where the villain Beeja (Tovino Thomas) comes face-to-face with Dhanush (Maari). Though many felt that the sequence was quite stretched out, many failed to realize that it was the only sequence when Maari succeeded at bringing down the villain who went on to play more with his brain than his brawn.

One of the highlights in the movie is the scope and space given to actors like Sai Pallavi and Tovino Thomas who are like newcomers in the Tamil film industry. Sai Pallavi equals or even surpasses Dhanush with her style of dance. A skilled dancer, she flows along with Dhanush in the song Rowdy Baby, choreographed by Prabhu Deva and composed by Yuvan Shakar Raja. The song is winning hearts, mainly due to the Why this Kolaveri di-style lyrics, the 90s feel brought back by Yuvan and the distinct voice of Dhee. The choreography has elements of Michael Jackson’s costume and dance style. Dhanush and Sai Pallavi are pure naturals in the song.

Coming to Tovino, the director does not show Beeja fighting people nor murdering them face to face. He is not a born criminal, yet he feeds on the weaknesses of people in the world of Maari. We are never scared of Beeja nor does he intend to. He intends to scare Maari towards the end and what follows is a fight sequence between the two. Coming to the fight sequence, Dhanush decides to go on about baring his upper body, revealing his chiseled abs and ripped lean body. The actor, usually stereotyped, makes a stunning screen presence as a feared gangster and even pulls off his lean machine look against the well-built Tovino in the climax.

Overall, Maari 2 is packaged right with commercial elements along with a bit of family drama.

A Memory

Silent notes of brewed coffee,
steam dense, yet strained.
hazy rays through the stained glass,
the rustling sounds,
of the morning paper.

a gaze stuck on the polished wood,
shiny and happy,
yet Immobile.
biscuit crumbs scatter the table,
a new feast for the tiny ants.

A home,
never so silen
t,
missing a voice of its own
the potted soil, never dry
nor the leaves dusty.

the subtle baking aroma,
the loving shouts,
and the steps of arrival,
is a now a memory,
as you ascend,
to a happy place.