Sruthi Hariharan and Surya Vasishta in âSaramshaâ
| Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
In a brilliant scene in Surya Vasishtaâs Saramsha (Summary), a publisher, Raksha (Shweta Gupta), tells the protagonist, Tejas (Deepak Subramanya), about how she wants people to see her as a Kannadiga, even if she doesnât speak the language fluently. âBut psychologically, culturally… this (Karnataka) is my home. It (Kannada) is my literature and identity. Anywhere else, I will feel out of place,â she says.
A Bengaluru Kannadiga, who is well aware of Kannadaâs legacy, yet finds it comfortable thinking in English, battles with the same identity crisis. The film, too, is about who you are and who people see you as, and has several gentle moments that make you smile.Â
For instance, the scene where Tejas talks to his parents through a video call is another small gem. As soon as the conversation is over, he removes the picture of his parents as his laptop wallpaper and replaces it with that of the legendary Kannada poet Kuvempu.Â
Storyline: In the realm of magic realism, an emotional drama unfolds when Tejas, a chartered accountant and a passionate writer, meets Abhay, one of the characters of his story
The name Tejas is derived from Poornachandra Tejaswi, the renowned writer and son of Kuvempu. Apart from the subtle tribute to two literary greats, the scene reflects Tejasâ mental state. With no support for his writing dreams from his parents, Tejas seeks inspiration from the greats he grew up reading.
Tejasâ father wants his son to follow his path and become a chartered accountant. But Tejas loves writing, the world of imagination, and he is a misfit for jobs that require rational thinking and truth.Â
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One day, Tejas opens the bathroom door and walks into another world, where he meets Abhay (Surya Vasishta) and Maya (Sruthi Hariharan), the characters of the story he is writing. While Abhay always dreams of the future, Maya lives for today. Meeting the two contrasting personalities shapes Tejasâ character and thinking.Â
Saramsha, with its unflashy filmmaking and minimalist background score, is a moody film. Hence, the filmâs philosophical tone works for the most part. It shows the lives of interesting yet imperfect people with different life experiences. So there is ample drama, with dialogues (from Vasishta and Gantumoote director Roopa Rao) that sound relatable.
Deepak Subramanya in âSaramshaâ
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement
The film mirrors the psyche of a passionate writer. âWriting a book and publishing it feels like completing a life and being reborn again,â Abhay tells Tejas after sharing his love for the aroma of pages of a book. The actors are the filmâs biggest strength, with Deepak Subramanya being the standout.
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ALSO READ:âKTMâ movie review: Dheekshith Shetty gives his all in a film stuck in a time warp
Saramsha talks about the need to mend your turbulent relationship with your parents. It is also a tale of a youngster coming of age. Perhaps the film could have taken more risks with the idea of surrealism, but the directorâs well-meaning intention drives him to close all the chapters of his characters, denting the intriguing nature of the movie. That said, Saramsha has enough to offer an immersive experience for those who love to ruminate about life.
NEW YORK (OSV News) – Cartoon characters can devolve into dullards over time. But some are more enduringly appealing than others, as the adventure “The SpongeBob Movie: Search for SquarePants” (Paramount) proves.
Yellow, absorbent and porous on the outside, unflaggingly upbeat SpongeBob (voice of Tom Kenny) is childlike and anxious to please within. He also displays the kind of eagerness for grown-up experiences that is often found in real-life youngsters but that gets him into trouble in this fourth big-screen outing for his character.
Initially, his yearning for maturity takes a relatively harmless form. Having learned that he is now exactly 36 clams tall, the requisite height to ride the immense roller coaster at Captain Booty Beard’s Fun Park, he determines to do so.
Predictably, perhaps, he finds the ride too scary for him. This prompts Mr. Krabs (voice of Clancy Brown), the owner of the Krusty Krab — the fast-food restaurant where SpongeBob works as a cook — to inform his chef that he is still an immature bubble-blowing boy who needs to be tested as a swashbuckling adventurer.
The opportunity for such a trial soon arises with the appearance of the ghostly green Flying Dutchman (voice of Mark Hamill), a pirate whose elaborately spooky lair, the Underworld, is adjacent to SpongeBob’s friendly neighborhood, Bikini Bottom. Subject to a curse, the Dutchman longs to lift it and return to human status.
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To do so, he needs to find someone both innocent and gullible to whom he can transfer the spell. SpongeBob, of course, fits the bill.
So the buccaneer lures SpongeBob, accompanied by his naive starfish pal Patrick (voice of Bill Fagerbakke), into a series of challenges designed to prove that the lad has what it takes. Mr. Krabs, the restaurateur’s ill-tempered other employee, Squidward (voice of Rodger Bumpass), and SpongeBob’s pet snail, Gary, all follow in pursuit.
Along the way, SpongeBob and Patrick’s ingenuity and love of carefree play usually succeed in thwarting the Dutchman’s plans.
As with most episodes of the TV series, which premiered on Nickelodeon in 1999, there are sight gags intended either for adults or savvy older children. This time out, though, director Derek Drymon and screenwriters Pam Brady and Matt Lieberman produce mostly misfires.
These include an elaborate gag about Davy Jones’ legendary locker — which, after much buildup, turns out to be an ordinary gym locker. Additionally, in moments of high stress, SpongeBob expels what he calls “my lucky brick.” As euphemistic poop gags go, it’s more peculiar than naughty.
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True to form, SpongeBob emerges from his latest escapades smarter, wiser, pleased with his newly acquired skills and with increased loyalty to his friends. So, although the script’s humor may often fall short, the franchise’s beguiling charm remains.
The film contains characters in cartoonish peril and occasional scatological humor. The OSV News classification is A-I – general patronage. The Motion Picture Association rating is PG — parental guidance suggested. Some material may not be suitable for children.
Too good to be true? Yep, that’s just what Millie’s new job as a housemaid is—and everyone in the audience knows it. What they might not expect, though, is the amount of nudity, profanity and blood The Housemaid comes with. And this content can’t be scrubbed away.
Directed by James Cameron. Starring Sam Worthington, Zoe Saldaña, Sigourney Weaver, Stephen Lang, Oona Chaplin, Kate Winslet, Cliff Curtis, Joel David Moore, CCH Pounder, Edie Falco, Brendan Cowell, Jemaine Clement, Giovanni Ribisi, David Thewlis, Britain Dalton, Jack Champion, Trinity Jo-Li Bliss, Jamie Flatters, Bailey Bass, Filip Geljo, Duane Evans Jr., Matt Gerald, Dileep Rao, Daniel Lough, Kevin Dorman, Keston John, Alicia Vela-Bailey, and Johnny Alexander.
SYNOPSIS:
Jake and Neytiri’s family grapples with grief after Neteyam’s death, encountering a new, aggressive Na’vi tribe, the Ash People, who are led by the fiery Varang, as the conflict on Pandora escalates and a new moral focus emerges.
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At one point during one of the seemingly endless circular encounters in Avatar: Fire and Ash, (especially if director James Cameron sticks to his plans of making five films in this franchise) former soldier turned blue family man (or family Na’vi?) and protector Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) tells his still-in-pursuit-commander-nemesis-transferred-to-a-Na’vi-body Miles Quaritch (Stephen Lang) that the world of Pandora runs deeper than he or anyone imagines, and to open his eyes. It’s part of a plot point in which Jake encourages the villainous Quaritch to change his ways.
More fascinatingly, it comes across as a plea of trust from James Cameron (once again writing the screenplay alongside Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver) that there is still much untapped lore and stories to tell in this world. If this repetitive The Way of Water retread is anything to go by, more isn’t justified. Even taken as a spectacle, the unmatched and undeniably stunning visuals (not to mention the most expressive motion capture ever put to screen, movie or video game), that aspect is less impactful, being only two years removed from the last installment rather than a decade, which is not to be confused with less impressive. Fortunately for the film and its gargantuan 3+ hour running time, James Cameron still has enough razzle-dazzle to scoot by here on unparalleled marvel alone, even if the narrative and character expansions are bare-bones.
That’s also what makes it disappointing that this third entry, while introducing a new group dubbed the Ash People led by the strikingly conceptualized Varang (Oona Chaplin) – no one creates scenery-chewing, magnetic, and badass-looking villains quite like James Cameron – and their plight with feeling left behind, rebelling against Pandora religion, Avatar: Fire and Ash is stuck in a cycle of Jake endangering his family (and, by extension, everyone around them) with Quaritch hunting him down for vengeance but this time more fixated on his human son living among them, Spider (Jack Champion) who undergoes a physical transformation that makes him a valuable experiment and, for better or worse, the most important living being in this world. Even the corrupt and greedy marine biologists are back hunting the same godlike sea creatures, leading to what essentially feels like a restaging, if slightly different, riff on the climactic action beat that culminated in last time around.
Worse, whereas The Way of Water had a tighter, more graceful flow from storytelling to spectacle, with sequences extended and drawn out in rapturously entertaining ways, the pacing here is clunkier and frustrating, as every time these characters collide and fight, the story resets and doesn’t necessarily progress. For as much exciting action as there is here, the film also frustratingly starts and stops too much. The last thing I ever expected to type about Avatar: Fire and Ash is that, for all the entrancing technical wizardry on display, fantastical world immersion, and imaginative character designs (complete with occasional macho and corny dialogue that fits, namely since the presentation is in a high frame rate consistently playing like the world’s most expensive gaming cut scene), is often dull.
Yes, everything here, from a special-effects standpoint, is painstakingly crafted, with compelling characters that James Cameron clearly loves (something that shows and allows us to take the story seriously). Staggeringly epic action sequences are worth singling out as in a tier of its own (it’s also a modern movie free from the generally garish and washed-out look of others in this generation), but it’s all in service of a film that is not aware of its strengths, but instead committed to not going anywhere. There are a couple of important details here that one could tell someone before they watch the inevitable Avatar 4, and they will be caught up without needing to watch this. If Avatar: The Way of Water was filler (something I wholeheartedly disagree with), then Avatar: Fire and Ash is nothing. And that’s something that hurts to say.
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Without spoiling too much, the single best scene in the entire film has nothing to do with epic-scale warring, but a smoldering courting from Quaritch for Varang and her army of Ash People to join forces with his group. In a film that’s over three hours, it would also have been welcome to focus more on the Ash People, their past, and their current inner workings alongside their perception of Pandora. It’s not a shock that James Cameron can invest viewers into a villain without doing so, but the alternative of watching Jake grapple with militarizing the Na’vi and insisting everyone learn how to use “sky people” firearms while coming to terms with whether or not he can actually protect his family isn’t as engaging; the latter half comes across as déjà vu.
The presence of Spider amplifies the target on everyone’s backs, with Jake convinced the boy needs to return to his world. His significant other Neytiri (Zoe Saldaña), with rage building inside her stemming from the family losing a child in the climax of the previous film, encourages a more aggressive approach and is ready to kill Spider if him being a part of the family threatens their remaining children (with one of them once again a 14-year-old motion captured by Sigourney Weaver, which is not as effective a voice performance this time as there are scenes of loud agony and pain where she sounds her age). The children also get to continue their plot arcs, with similarly slim narrative progression.
Not without glimpses of movie-magic charm and emotional moments would one dare say James Cameron is losing his touch. However, Avatar: Fire and Ash is all the proof anyone needs to question whether five of these are required, as it’s beginning to look more and more as if the world and characters aren’t as rich as the filmmaker believes they are. It’s another action-packed technical marvel with sincere, endearing characters, but the cycling nature of those elements is starting to wear thin and yield diminishing returns.
