“While people pump each other with bullets, Rahman’s music remains observant while being strangely detached. It’s a shrug of the narrator’s shoulder, at the unstoppable tragedy of it all.
Chekka Chivantha Vaanam is a shining example of song integration into story. Pay attention to how variations of Sevandhu Pochu Nenju get used in this film in bits and pieces. Or even better, how about Mazhai Kuruvi, which transforms from love to lament?”
“She also gets slapped about, and it all makes sense when you pay attention to a line she sings in the duet, Adhiroobaney: “Unai paarkumbothey bayam varum, needhaan aanin ilakkanam.” Suddenly, I understood why barely a few seconds after getting slapped by Ramasaamy, she smiles at him.”
“Seemaraja is also the sort of film in which a fat woman comes running and Imman utilises an elephant’s trumpeting as BGM in a bid to get us laughing. The scene’s as funny as a burning orphanage.”
“One is almost stoic, the other is sensitive to a fault. Later, during a moment of profound sadness and unimaginable pain, she still has the streetsmarts to notice a CCTV camera on the road. A CBI officer at work is one at home too.”
“What’s Kolamavu Kokila really trying to say? There’s the likeable subtext that a woman — her superficial meekness and soft speech notwithstanding — can outwit dozens of powerful men, sure, and really, hurrah for it. Beyond it though, what else is the story saying? That illegal means are justified when your needs are legitimate?”
Sudhir Srinivasan 