With every movie,
Anoop Menon pushes the envelope a little higher (or the sheets a little lower)
in dealing with immorality in the Malayali’s social life. Kerala is a state
with a large independent woman class but revels curiously in its suppressed
sexual desires – Malayalam sahityam must have broken many of its taboos long
time back but its cinema is still circumspect when dealing with sex (a
sensibility that did not exist once upon a time, mind you).
Trivandrum Lodge is
a non-descript sea-facing lodge in Kochi whose inmates’ humdrums forms the core
of the movie. It has its share of oddball characters like Abdu (Jayasuriya), a
sex-starved tramp who does small time jobs for survival, Kora (P Balachandran,
the director of Ivan Megharoopan), a retired clerk whose sexual exploits are
supposedly just one short of reaching the four digit mark, Shibu Vellayani
(Saiju Kurup), a small time cinema reporter who has a weakness for women and
Dhwani Nambiar (Honey Rose), whose lusty presence awakens the sexual mood in
the lodge. The lodge is owned by Ravisankar (Anoop Menon), a rich real estate
developer; he is a widower who lives with his son Arjun. The movie largely
probes their lives, from an angle of their sexual desires and lust which
sometimes becomes not so-subtle and cringe-worthy.
What works for
Trivandrum Lodge is that it is largely uncompromising in what it wants to say
and make you feel. It sets out to create an adult comi-drama and succeeds to
quite an extent; it is unabashedly immoral and celebrates voyeurism, without a
hint of guilt. Just as you’d agree that brain is the main organ of sexual
activity, it is the writing that drives the intent of the characters, not the
visuals which are fairly more conventional. The camera does not try to
tantalizingly linger on the female anatomy at any time but has a more relaxed
focus, with more attention on the lodge.
Thankfully, for a
movie that is steeped in suppressed desires, the camera does not try to
titillate but leaves it to the characters to express their feelings in the form
of crass talk, kochu pustakangal and sexual exploits of its characters. When
the entire lodge is waiting to see what happens within closed doors as one of
them massages the naked nape of an imminently desirable woman, it focusses on
the crowd outside it as they prance about in anticipation. The audience becomes
just another voyeuristic player in the drama who gorges down the fantasies of
the lead cast.
Abdu is honest about
what he feels (he likes Dhwani’s kundi the most as he tells her without batting
an eyelid) and craves for sex but there is an element of innocence in him
unlike the others. He does not have the sophistication of Dhwani’s husband or
the smartness of Shibu or the loquaciousness of Kora but he is honest enough
for her to spend time with him. He tries to bargain with a prostitute, even
offering to pay for her services in installments but backs out when he sees her
husband in a pitiable state. It is a fine directorial touch where the
protagonist’s lust evaporates suddenly, with minimum usage of space.
There is a chemistry
that exists between the mandan Abdu and Dhwani and while this constitutes a
bright speck in a movie that treats relationships with butter hands, it is not
exploited enough to make us want to see the two together. Dhwani is a newly
divorced woman who wants to breathe her independence by fornicating with
abandon (mootha kazahappu as her friend says) and live life devoid of rules.
She knows she is the object of raw desire in the lodge but is still more than
willing to play up her assets just to enjoy it – her encounters with Kora
offering herself as his 1000th conquest and with Shibu when he makes his
indecent proposal play out entertainingly.
Devi Ajith has a
small but interesting role in the form of Zarina, Dhwani’s friend in Kochi.
She’s a St. Stephens product who is happily married to a local panachakku whom
she refers to as a mandan mappilla – the kind who has money but no class and is
happy to act subservient to his more educated wife. It looks like a rather
skewed relationship but then the secrets of a successful marriage are far too
many for anyone to hazard a guess! Zarina is spot on when she remarks that in a
big city like Kochi, you can get away with any level of immorality but if you
are a Malayali woman, the moral police will come after you.
Anoop Menon as
Ravisankar plays the only white character in the movie – he is a one-woman man
who only loves his wife. His wife Malavika (Bhavana) dies in an accident but
he’s still happy to stay single in her memory, even though the world offers him
enough opportunities to go astray or seek new love. Trivandrum Lodge is just an
old unpolished piece of antiquity but it has a special place for him in his
heart because he’s promised Malavika that he will take care of it.
Tesni Khan plays Kanyaka
(her same name as in Beautiful), a smart prostitute and gets the cockiest lines
in the movie – whether it is her complaining of the difficulty in doing
business in high-fi places or her wondering on why the act should generate a
lot of noise! There is just a glimpse of her husband’s bed-ridden state but
that’s skipped immediately because the director doesn’t want us to sympathize
with anyone – it is all in free will. There are no half-hearted justifications
or apologies for what is seen and what you see is what you get and the old man
scene is the nearest that VKP gets to offer some sort of an explanation for the
behaviour of any of the characters.
But it is the same
writing that lets the movie down when it tries too hard deliberately to tell
the audience that this is a different movie and we are trying to be bold. A lot
of the dialogues is on the face and the corniness with a capital C makes it a
contrived attempt to make it cool and seemingly open-minded (though not as
extreme as the offensive Bachelor Party).
The dialogues seem
largely driven by the attempt to go along with the atmosphere of the movie than
driven by any real need to do so, as demanded by the characters. The plot is
over-sexed and everyone in it is on a high driven by the sex hormone than
anything else. To that extent, the movie plays out like a fantasy in the
libidinous mind of the makers instead of a realistic snap of immoral life in
such circles. It could have raised more questions on the newer definitions of
morality as modern Kerala changes hesitatingly but it is too self-obsessed to
look at a larger picture.
Take the father-son
conversation between Ravisankar and his father (singer P. Jayachandran in a
small cameo) as they discuss Ravi’s mother’s wayward life. Yes, much water has flown
down the bridge and life has moved on but is it so simple to dissect one’s own
mother’s life in such unflattering ways – the brilliance of a ‘vaishya’ or
female Cassanova whose husband could not satisfy her, possibly in bed? I
confess to be intrigued when Ravi asks his father Nammal nammude budhiyum
kazhivum vilkkarille, pinne shariram vilkunnathil entha thettu but the
conversation seems to be abjectly devoid of any emotional content as if the
lady in question was a character in a novel and not one’s own mother.
Ravi as the faithful
husband is an oasis in a sea of voyeurism but without enough emotional
investment in him, it is difficult for us to appreciate his character. He looks
less a business tycoon and more an artist with a relaxed life. I wish the
character had been fleshed out more (actually, no character is given enough
space to grow, except maybe Kanyaka and Abdu to a certain extent) so that his
love, his feelings appear more concrete and we get a peek into this man, whom
Dhwani is attracted to for the simple reason that she believes that no man can
love a woman so much that he can stay single, even after her death. Even as a
father, he treats the incident of the porn book in his son’s bag far too
lightly for my comfort.
Ravi’s son Arjun’s
romance is more out of a Karan Johar production than VKPs and greatly overdone
and could have been avoided. Kid romances may be cute but is jarring in a movie
whose style is below the belt variety. There are a couple of scenes at the
beauty parlour which also have no connection with the movie and are more there
only to make it sound horny – scenes that are reminiscent of any Bhandarkar
movie. The plot does meander a bit wondering how to treat its wide assortment
of characters (didn't Janardhanan look a bit lost) but it manages to trace an
honourable exit route for itself, without creating too much fuss.
Trivandrum Lodge is
a bold, unconventional experiment and celebrates voyeurism without guilt. It is
funny and blatantly immoral and Anoop Menon enjoys cocking a snook at our
hypocritical ways but I think that he just tries too hard to make it a
different New Age cinema and so it comes off as partly pretentious and
deliberate, unlike the natural flow of Beautiful. Nevertheless, it succeeds in
putting across a tacky subject in its own uncompromising way and this in itself
is a reason to watch the movie….
The film pays
obeisance to Padmarajan’s immortal Thoovanathumbikal by getting Babu Namboodri
to reprise his role of Thangal, as the famous strains of the movie’s background
music plays out when he enters the frame. Even in the last scene, you see
Kanyaka in a second hand Maruti-800 with him; remember Jayakrishnan talking
about Maruti-800 being the best vehicle for such girls!
Originally published in MadAboutMoviez - http://www.madaboutmoviez.com/2012/10/trivandrum-lodge-movie-review-sex-air/
