Krishna and His Leela manages to do this beautifully, treading the delicate line between vilifying and idolising him. It simply paints him as an average young man, prone to the very human follies of instinct and desire. It achieves this neutral ground because it’s not in love with him.
“Halitha Shameem’s second film is the equivalent of a pat on your shoulder, and someone saying, “There, there. As long as there’s love in the world, you will be fine.””
“If you remember, it’s a film in which the woman, Anita, tolerates quite a bit. Kathir is ill-mannered and brutish, a quintessential Selvaraghavan central male character if you will. This one also ogles, misbehaves, abuses, stalks… He is pathetic. And she can’t seem to fend him off. Instead, like a germ, he ends up growing on her. He’s almost an infection, a flaw. He’s… human. She’s an epitome of patience, a giver. She’s… an angel, a goddess. He’s a sinner; she’s his saviour.”
Ranjit Jeyakodi’s second film, Ispade Rajavum Idhaya Raniyum, begins with Socrates’ quote: The hottest love has the coldest end. The film’s an attempt at introspection upon the nature of romantic love, on broken men, on unhappy women.
“I never truly understood what Meghna brings to her relationship with Dev, save for a supposed air of arrogance which turns bizarrely into unbearable clinginess. I think even she doesn’t get it, for, she keeps asking Dev why he’s into her.”