Skip to main content

Andha Naal Nyaabagam [Memoirs of That Day] - An Opinion Post

Before I start attempting this, there are certain things the reader must know, the first of which is that this is not a review. Well, at least it doesn’t conform to the commonly accepted definition of one. It isn’t meant to give you my opinion on the different things I observed in the movie*, while providing you with some running commentary/side note all along. This is a token of thanks, the purpose of which is not to provide you with a reason to watch the short, but to provide you with one to appreciate it. So if you haven’t watched it yet, do it (Or be prepared for me to spoil it all for you). And then maybe read this (Or not. Your choice.).

Two, I am not a person who possesses any knowledge about film making, the aspects of it, or anything related to it at all. I am a mere layman, writing like I usually do, not as a form of art, but more as a response to some stimulus that initiates some form of a thought process in me. If you tell me about the lighting or the various camera angles, I would either listen to learn, or stare long enough for you to stop. But having said that, I love references. I love the fact that an image or a scene can be interpreted my way. I like reading between blank spaces. And I did a bit of that here as well. So as I said, this would merely be a description of certain things/scenes/sequences and my interpretation of them (irrespective of how many of those were intended). Not so much a review but the personal ramblings of a person (who requires an audience) temporarily consumed by a form of media (that requires an audience).

About the movie now, I told myself not to have any expectations from it. And yet, it’s only human that you predict or expect something out of every opportunity presented to you. Here, though, you see them thwarted. Every time. For instance we get a short glimpse of a woman about 90 seconds into the movie, who we later discover is a coveted possession, a prized partner. A character of so much importance must surely reappear on the screen? She must have a “bigger role”? After all the two men carrying the movie have been known to want to carry her. But no. “Good morning.” And she’s gone. There are too many instances of this expectation-thwarting, enough to make me feel borderline dumb for falling for it every time, at the same time allowing me to appreciate the thought that went into it.

The movie opens with a shot of someone waking up in some sort of a building that’s under construction. Not too away from the city, not in the city itself. A man who likes the city, but is used to the lack of it, maybe? He looks out into the sky as the sun stares into his face. And that’s the exact point in time when I was reminded of Bane, from The Dark Knight Rises. (“…the dark. I was born in it, molded by it. I didn’t see the light until I was already a man; by then, it was nothing to me but blinding!”) And to some extent I was proved right, I suppose, what with Kaas being in prison for God knows how long.

The next thing that caught my eye was that the first time the two men interact, we see an apple being cut in half. At first I liked how it looked perfect and shiny on the outside, but was rotten on the inside - the right amount of hint about someone important. Upon viewing twice, I discovered something more important. The other half of the apple looked just about fine, but was thrown away nonetheless. Maybe, translating a certain saying, a grain of rice reflects the contents of the entire pot? I’m not sure. Maybe I’m thinking too much? The third time around, I got to the rather sinister point. Whatever it is, it takes a knife to bring it out. This is what set the movie up for me. This moment was the one that got me hooked on to it.

The next few moments play out on screen in a rather fast paced manner – Siddharth, a normal man, chased by a stranger who knows him all too well, trying to force him into remembering things he doesn’t want to. Eventually Siddharth surrenders to reality and the fact that there’s no escaping this situation or this man, none of which was his choice in the first place. (This was another moment where I was interested, because of the question “What happens when nothing’s in your control? Where everything just happens no matter what? What would you do then?”)

For someone about to pull a gun, Kaas calmly sits down on a bench, happily popping peanuts with Siddharth. So far the story has only been set up. (Or maybe an extension of set up.) For me, there was no development until now. That’s when I hear the words: “Siddharth, uppu kami illa?” (“Siddharth, this isn’t as salty as it’s supposed to be?”) Seldom does someone address a question to the viewer, poised as a casual remark on screen. I was absent mindedly nodding by now, almost as if to make MY answer count.

This is the heart of the movie’s writing, the one that takes the cake. Amidst the conversation, we are told that Kaas once beat up Siddharth as a kid (because Sid cheated) but then also took him to the hospital and got him patched, while Siddharth vehemently denies cheating. This is the one dialogue that defines both characters for me. On one hand we have Kaas - extremely instinctive, extremely temperamental, and the least bit bothered about what anyone else might think or say about all of this. On the other hand, we have Siddharth, someone who would deny an accusation repeatedly and spiritedly, and maybe even give up and let go after a point of time, but would never convince, reason or support himself. He is instinctive as well, but in a more “harmless” sort of manner. All his instinct does is cloud his left brain.

The rest of the conversation is all about Kaas making Siddharth uncomfortable at every available instance (by bringing up things like his marriage), while evading the questions that Siddharth asks in order to make himself comfortable. But amidst all of this, the idea of Kaas not giving a fuck about anything outside of his mind is reinforced in another, rather innovative manner, as he hums what is the most beautiful piece of music, the grandest symphony in his mind, revealing that he was in Vellore, imprisoned. Not once does he ask how well he sang, or how good it was. He knows it was the best performance. That’s what matters to him.

More and more instances of each one’s psyche colliding and conflicting with the other’s, unfold. Siddharth is concerned, as he asks Kaas if he needs help finding a job, something that is an important aspect of life according to Sid. Kaas, a few moments after making a mockery of that request, shouts into Siddharth’s face, about how everything including the chance to watch a thalaivar movie is important to him. Talk about simple pleasures.

If I had to draw a line somewhere to signal the beginning of the climax, this would be it. This is when it all comes together. Not the part that is in focus, but the one that deserves the most importance. Kaas’s instinct has been brewing for long. This is where the curtains are raised and it comes forward. Long story short, Kaas was ratted on by someone. He suspects and eventually shoots Siddharth. But the way this happens, is an example of some professional sketching of characters. None of them violate their boundaries. Sid continues to say that he didn’t inform the cops (Remember, deny repeatedly but never convince or reason?), but says that even if someone did, it wouldn’t be wrong if the intention was to reform Kaas (Remember, offering to help if Kaas needed a job?). Kaas on the other hand seems to remember everything that lead to this point, forgetting only one thing he had to – the art of giving a fuck. He doesn’t care whether Sid admits it or not – he’s already decided to kill him. At one point, the movie seems to try and create an illusion, one where Kaas is convinced that Siddharth didn’t do it. But then again, it’s all to incite Siddharth, make him uncomfortable, like it has always been.

I, personally, didn’t expect Kaas to murder. He could be annoying, uneasy, and even someone who smuggles drugs. But can he murder someone he’s known for so long? And yet he did, which wasn’t too much of a surprise but was still something I couldn’t foresee.

Somewhere along all of this, Kaas receives a couple of phone calls that he ignores. Because right now, he’s decided to go for a kill. And he can’t be bothered by anything, let alone a mere phone call. But after all of this, when the phone rings for a third time, he answers it, only to find that (screen blacks out) the informer was a certain Peter** all along. I was wrong about what’s the most important part of the story (One more thing I was wrong about, perhaps). This is. A conflict of traits must take over. Will Kaas try and rush Siddharth to the hospital, as he did the last time he hurt him? Or will he shoot himself out of guilt, knowing that there’s nothing he can do? Or option three, walk away from all of this being as indifferent as he always has been? Or will he walk away, the only thing in his mind being the next murder, that of Peter? Will he reform himself? Will Vidya be safe? Does she matter to him? Did Siddharth really cheat in that game of marbles? Ladies and gentlemen, Andha Naal Nyaabagam. A story that makes me uncomfortable, while evading all the questions I ask in order to make myself comfortable. A story of instinct. Instinct which happens to be the antagonist of the antagonist, and also his biggest strength.

Key:

Movie*: Something that Andha Naal Nyaabagam doesn’t conform to the commonly accepted definition of.

Peter**: Why did this never strike Kaas? Because “uska English thoda weak, remember ah?”

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

----Title removed by the Government for being offensive---

Fuck. F**k. ****. “…exchanged harsh words…”                 The first one’s from a popular website with millions of readers. Picture CollegeHumour or Cracked. The second one is what Indian Express would do. The third one is The Times of India and the fourth, The Hindu.                 Now my question to you all is, why is the media under so much restriction? Because it will corrupt the younger generation? Now I understand that this is hypocrisy at the highest level (I wrote an article about how TV corrupts young minds) but a generation that is more open and casual about abusive language can never be corrupted by anything, least of all the Indian media.                 The purpose of media is to present the facts as and when they happen and ...

How To Get A Girl In Five Simple Steps [Blog For Men Only]

Before we start, let's get two things out of the way. Firstly, why does this blog exist? I recently came across the news of a webinar that attempted something similar, teaching men how to date, or up their game or something like that. And it was hilarious how they aggressively dismissed the only woman who bothered to join the webinar to tell them where they went wrong. It's almost like teaching people how to convert to Christianity but setting fire to the first cathedral you encounter. So I decided to write a blog about the same topic instead, and simplify things a bit. Also, blogs can't be interrupted by anyone with logic and reasoning. Secondly, this blog is only for men. Thank you. Now, it can be a daunting task to be where I am, but as your messiah (I have had multiple women voluntarily let me coexist next to them on several occasions), let me tell you that it all boils down to five simple steps. Step 1: Don't. Do not get a woman. They're women. Not a priz...

My First Word

Hi. Two decades and my first hi. And I suppose “Why so late?” isn't the question. There’s so much to procrastinate. The right thing to ask would be “If nothing got you slamming keys in the past twenty years, what is it finally?” That. Right. Rewind a few days. Say hello to continuous internal assessment exam and people trying really hard to get me serious. No sir, I am not someone with an academic history worth showing off. And I am putting less effort into changing that than I am at trying to think of a witty end to this sentence. So coming back to where we were, the devil was already working overtime in his workshop when there was the mini “Aha!” moment and I recollected one of my friends telling me about a blog he wrote. A tap, tap here and a click, click there and voila! There it is. “Nociception”, says the title. Nothing but pure, undiluted Hindustani music. So undiluted that I didn't understand more than half of its content. But I thoroughly appreciated what ...