Vineeth Sreenivasan’s Varshangalkku Shesham opens with Venu (Dhyan Sreenivasan) nearly flunking the history exam to invite the wrath of his father’s cane. The scenario is unique and the characters are interesting – none of which return in the film. Venu soon meets (or develops a man-crush for) an alcoholic musician named Murali (Pranav Mohanlal). We know nothing about Murali’s family. He exists somewhere in the cosmos that Vineeth creates – like an enigma. He appears and disappears as per his whims (an obvious nod to the actor’s sparse screen appearances and reclusive personality). He mouths fancies literature and falls in love to soon get his heart broken. The only aspect that accelerates in the first act of Varshangalkku Shesham is Venu’s fandom for Murali.
Enter the big bad world of Madras – the Mecca of cinema in South India. The Kodambakkam suburb of the city (set in the ‘70s) welcomes strugglers into rickety lodges with leaky roofs. Soon, Vineeth’s film reveals the leading men and their different ideas to live life. If Murali wishes for a simple life, sans competition and responsibilities, Venu is planned and ambitious. Talented to equal degrees in their areas of expertise (music and writing), the friends slowly drift apart when Venu enters a trail of success.
Varshangalkku Shesham, much like Indian cinema of the era, is high on melodrama. The characters emotionally manipulate each other and, subsequently, the viewers to attain partial success. Although not laugh-out-loud funny, the banter between the duo perks up the film’s heavily dramatic first half – which strangely feels like a different film altogether.
Vineeth sets the second half in present-day Kerala where an aged Venu attempts a comeback with Murali’s earnest support. The once-happening filmmaker has sobered up whereas the elusive musician begins to resemble Devadoothan’s Vishal Krishna minus the fame. The humor in the third act gets prominent as fun characters emerge. Varshangalkku Shesham takes us to the location of Venu’s new film where the leading man is an eccentric Nithin Molly (Nivin Pauly, in an exaggerated meta version of himself).
Speaking of meta moments, Varshangalkku Shesham is filled with references –of its stars, their parents, recent industry developments, yesteryear films, the Gen-Z culture, and so on. Although a ploy to offer relief in a highly theatrical film, Vineeth gets most of the gags right. Or let’s just say, the actors are in top form executing these bits.
Vineeth’s screenplay is surprisingly cold towards its leading men in the latter half. If Venu is quiet to the extent of being invisible, Murali is no longer a mysterious or amusing figure. You wouldn’t care less if he staged a disappearing act. You would worry more for Nithin Molly’s career than Venu’s. This is when you begin to realize the problem with Varshangalkku Shesham.
The screenplay is brilliant in several stretches but the plot holes are too glaring to go amiss. For instance, the writing forces us to dislike Indradhanush (Kalesh Ramanand) but the screenplay’s texture and the dialogues are such that it is impossible to see him in a bad light. In a film that wants one to be pragmatic, Murali is the villain of his story who deserves no sympathy.
Similarly, the side tracks involving the leading ladies (Radhika Pillai, Kalyani Priyadarashan) are sliced out of work and family stereotypes from that era. Kalyani’s Annie, who is somewhat a tragedienne, should have never resurfaced in the latter half.
With its narrative spanning decades, the production design and the costume teams are on a roll to recreate the times. Likewise, DOP Viswajith Odukkathil lenses the period portions with enthusiasm (and dim lights). Music by Amrit Ramnath, a relative newcomer, is impressive although it lacks a commercial high point which was there in Hridayam’s OST. That said, the theme song ‘Jeevithagaadhakale’ fits like a dream in the plot. The only thing implausible is how a contemporary film by the same title gets lapped up by 2020’s cinephiles.
Among the cast, without a doubt, it is Nivin Pauly who steals everyone’s thunder in a meta cameo. The lines are superb, and the actor’s rendition of the part is mind-blowing. Pranav Mohanlal has a magnetic appeal and is slowly evolving into a formidable performer. If only the latter half did not make him a sedate, boring ‘churidar-clad granny’ (a gag from the film that hilariously describes Murali’s fall from grace). Dhyan Sreenivasan, essaying the only character who is a lot different from his real self, tries hard. Sadly, it is hard to imagine him as a gifted writer who goes on to become a jaded filmmaker. The hushed speech, poor screen presence, and questionable makeup aggravate the actor’s efforts. If Neeraj Madhav is a mega hoot in a brief appearance, Aju Varghese, in a superb dual role, owns every frame he is in. Basil Joseph is a treat despite the limited screen time.
Much like the director’s previous outing, Varshangalkku Shesham is designed as a crowd-pleaser. Vineeth’s characters speak in prose and they go through overwhelming life situations. Also, a brief chronicle of the cinema’s behind-the-scenes chaos and the film’s vigor to mock itself is appreciable. If only the writer could tune its central bromance better to make Venu’s never-ending search for Murali feel less exhausting.
Rating: ★★★