Super Deluxe (2019): A review
There are movies you watch and then, there are movies you feel. The film under review today comfortably falls in the latter category. I can go on and on about what makes it a must-watch but that’s the not the point of this blog post. You can decide for yourself whether you’d like to enjoy this film or stay oblivious to the magic of south Indian cinema.
Besides, since we are talking about feelings, let’s meander a bit there.
I often argued on this blog that movies should make us think. If they fail to teach us (repeatedly) how to wonder and ponder about the vagaries of our existence, then what’s the point of this so-called effective — almost all are efficient in their own right — art form? And for the longest time, I’ve maintained fidelity with this line of demand: a script should primarily aim to blow your mind. In retrospect, maybe I built this agenda because most of the movies I watched and enjoyed made me think about them days after the credits rolled.
Super Deluxe (2019) is slightly different; props to its writer-director Thiagarajan Kumararaja.
There are moments in this movie that will take you back to stages in your life when you dealt with the concept of identity. It could be anything from loneliness (associated with kids) to gender (associated with adults) to faith (associated with idiots) to family (associated with society) to power (associated with corrupts) to love (associated with innocence). There is something for everybody to relate to. What also helps is the whimsical cinematography laced with noir-ish humour and a rather humane take on the age old issue called existentialism.
Although I had no intention of revealing the characters, I must give away the child at the center of the universe here. A super-cute boy, with husky voice and mature mannerism, is to this screenplay what that cute little girl, with broken arm and attentive spirit, was to The Fall (2006) by Tarsem Singh. Although there are several stories woven, his emerges as the most beautiful one — to be shared with those you’ll discuss this movie with.
Goes without highlighting, to those who don’t understand Tamil, chances are you will be cheated by the subtitles — as is the norm in translation—on Netflix. Nobody’s fault, to be precise. Some things are best conveyed in mother tongue of the land. I know this because of my childhood understanding of Tamil. While hearing some phenomenally deep dialogues, I couldn’t help but try to imagine them in other languages. Nobody else could have done justice. And then, people ask stupid questions like “What’s the big deal if languages die?” in favour of English or Hindi.
Lastly, it’s three hours long but you won’t feel the time pass by. Maybe because you’ll be too busy feeling the overall story.
