Mani’s Ramayana is set in Ambasamudram, a taluk in Tirunalveli. A ruthless Superintendent of Police Prithviraj (Dev Prakash/Rama) heads an operation to find a tribal leader and lawbreaker Vikram (Veeraiya/Ravana), a supposedly Robin Hood-like figure to the tribals, who kidnaps his wife Aishwarya Rai (Raagini/Sita). The story initially presents Veera as a brutal murderer but it is later on revealed the kidnap has been led on by the death of his sister, as a result of police custodial torture and brutal rape. Similarly, the smart and educated cop emerges slowly as a black character and Raagini slowly realizes that her husband is no saint while her demonic captor has a soft side after all.
The parallels with Ramayana are clear – the repeated references to 14 days/hours/years , Veera’s two brothers, a Hanuman-like character in Gnana Prakasam (Karthik as a talkative forest guard), a Surpanakha character in Vennila (Priya Mani) who acts as the trigger point for the conflict, the rather ridiculous idea of a polygraph test as an Agnipariksha to name a few. The analogies are forced and Mani is faithful to the epic in terms of its characters’ existence but not in terms of the story and so the characters exist since they exist in the original epic and nothing more.
The very premise of retelling Ramayana is exciting-the idea that there is a Ravan as well as a Ram in everyone and each situation brings out the Ram/Ravan in each of us is worth exploring and helps in understanding the epic in more ways than the existing tradition. But Mani has no such interest in bringing out any such moral ambiguity; he takes the easy way out in dangling such an idea initially but chickens out midway to simply do a role reversal of Ramayana, which by itself would not be a bad thing, if not for how one dimensional it becomes.
Dev has hardly any redeemable qualities- he is a hard- nosed cop who simply wants to finish Veera and he will go to any extent to do that. There are scenes written explicitly to make him a villain and you know that the director wants us to root for the anti-hero, except of course that Veera is no anti-hero. Veera has stellar qualities and there is nothing which even makes you question his actions- a trigger happy moral activist, fighting the ruthless government, incidentally using guns and bombs.
Mani has always been a supporter of the rebel though ofcourse, he never takes pains to go the full way and make the character ask whether his actions are justified in any way. We do not know what Veera represents and what is his fight against? We assume that he is probably a Robin Hood and that’s the most that Mani is willing to do to explain the political stance of his protagonist. Instead, Vikram and his men appear like grown up men who just want to enjoy life in the beautiful locations selected by Mani, rather than represent any movement. While the movie keeps harping about Ravana’s ten heads and his multi-layered character, but for God's sake, where is this enigma; he may have existed on paper but is conspicuously absent on screen. He is a rustic nobleman and belongs to a low caste which ambiguously sets up a caste conflict with his upper caste, suave and sophisticated bête noir but this thread is not explored.
The closest that a class/caste conflict arises in an interesting interaction between Veera and Raagini, in the backdrop of a splendid reclining Vishnu in the sea (reminds you of Kannathil Muthamittal) where he wants to know whether her God is flawless and handsome. This sets up the imagery of a clean and handsome upper caste God as celebrated in most visuals vis-a-vis an unkempt, pastoral low caste God who drinks and smokes; was this also an attempt to conjure the idea of a contrast between a Vishnu bhakta and a Shiva bhakta? (except of course, Mani's Raavanan is not a learned brahmin but a low caste hero)
The closest that a class/caste conflict arises in an interesting interaction between Veera and Raagini, in the backdrop of a splendid reclining Vishnu in the sea (reminds you of Kannathil Muthamittal) where he wants to know whether her God is flawless and handsome. This sets up the imagery of a clean and handsome upper caste God as celebrated in most visuals vis-a-vis an unkempt, pastoral low caste God who drinks and smokes; was this also an attempt to conjure the idea of a contrast between a Vishnu bhakta and a Shiva bhakta? (except of course, Mani's Raavanan is not a learned brahmin but a low caste hero)
Dev’s character begins to emerge with a sense of moral conflict but quickly descends into an amoral bloodthirsty cop, without much of an explanation- hardly a comparison with Rama. He tortures an armless man to extract information about his abducted wife’s whereabouts, shoots a messenger of peace (the Vibhishana character Sakkarai) in the back after guaranteeing non-violent negotiations and even distrusts his wife. It is almost as if the director goes an extra mile to paint Dev black and there are hints that his marital life may not necessarily be a bed of roses. The climax clearly underscores this point but it looks contrived and only succeeds in alienating his character further from the audience’s sympathies. (***Spoiler Alert--When we are told that Deva used his wife to entrap Veera, the first thing that strikes me is what kind of husband decides to trick his wife and send her into the jungle again to capture a bloody brigand-either he has so much confidence in her abilities or he just does not care- the upholder of Dharma is only interested in capturing Veera.)
Raagini has the best perspective on the two protagonists because of her proximity with them but this is not clearly spelt out. As the movie progresses, she realizes that her husband is not perfect and this view helps her in grasping the moral ambiguity of the situation better. But when the camera is so besotted with her and the equally captivating surroundings, it is difficult to understand her feelings. As she jumps across waterfalls and rocks, she suffers bruises but through Santosh Sivan’s lens, they adorn her face, making us forget her pain. She is desperate to flee herself from Veera’s clutches but slowly, she begins to see him in new light – something that can be explained more from a Stockhlom’s Syndrome perspective than anything else. A couple of scenes and a song establish her love for Dev but the climax hints that all is not well in God’s paradise but is that good enough to warrant falling for Veera?
Raagini is shocked when she learns that Veera was shot at during his sister’s wedding; come on, was she expecting the cops to wait for the marriage to be completed before they attacked ? Of course, you’d wonder how the most wanted man in the place decides to make his presence so evident in the marriage that even the cops find him easily. When Gnana Prakasam gets Dev’s approval to approach Raagini, he immediately locates Veera’s hideout, while our poor cops have no idea where he is!!! Similarly, when Dev suspects her, she lands straight at the villains's den, without any difficulty (stop the train midway, catch a bus and lo behold, we are in Raavanan territory). The final fight happens on a Ramar Sethu bridge and as the battle finishes, it becomes increasingly clear that while Dev is fighting a battle for the establishment, Veera is simply seeking revenge. Veera strikes only when his own people are attacked but Dev, even after reclaiming his wife, wants to put to sword the legend of Veera (possibly the only moral spin).
Vikram definitely steals the show with his powerful performance (quite a contrast to Abhishek in Ravan, I guess) and though there are scenes where he goes overboard , that's more of Mani's doing. Prithviraj is subtle but has limited work to do which he does convincingly with ease. Aishwarya manages to stay afloat but the camera’s fascination with her makes it difficult for us to dwell more into the character. Prabhu as Vikram’s brother is delightful while Priya Mani and Karthik make a mark despite limited screen space.
The movie works in spurts and these are times, you’d expect the movie to take-off but the MBA takes over the auteur and we are left wondering if the story in more capable hands could have been more appealing. I have never been a fan of Mani Ratnam School of Cinema and find it extremely shallow but then, every movie of his generates enough hype to force you to watch it. Enjoy it for the visual spectacle that it is and it becomes easy to digest but a different perspective on Ramayana, it is definitely not.
Director Mani Ratnam is inherently an armchair liberal who likes to take up political issues after sugar coating the script with protagonists who are generally caught up in the midst of an upheaval or who become sympathetic negative characters. Raavanan is no different in the sense that Ramayana merely serves as a backdrop for Mani Ratnam to show his love for breathtaking camera work. Like most of his movies, these masquerade as arty cinema but are eventually technical props – Raavanan, even by his standards, serves as a great ad for the National Geographic Channel and Valmiki is merely a tool in the story telling.