Drishyam review: A decent copy, but Ajay Devgn will make you long for Kamal Haasan

Ever had piping hot, homemade idli-sambar, the latter flavoured with aromatic spices made on a heavy grinding stone, and served on a banana leaf? Are you one of those who, inspired by that meal, tried your hand at making a simple dosa at home? If you’re persistent, you may eventually get a nice, round, crisp dosa. Your sambar may also be a satisfactory. But will it be like that honest-to-Amma meal? Not really. That mixed feeling you get when you make an acceptable dosa and remember a fluffy, perfect idli is exactly what you’re left with after watching Nishikant Kamat’s Drishyam. Drishyam is the Hindi remake of a Malayalam blockbuster by the same name, masterminded by writer and director, Jeethu Joseph. That film was recently made in Tamil, as the gripping Papanasam. In Hindi, Drishyam is about a Marathi family, set in Goa and faithful to every scene from the original, including several shots and frames. Kamat pares down an otherwise lengthy first half, which may not have been a good move. In the original, this length was particularly vital to establishing the central relationships between the lead and his family. Without that build-up, those relationships are weak as are the performances. Comparisons aside, Drishyam has a terrific, killer plot (even if it is ‘inspired’). Vijay Salgaonkar (Ajay Devgn) is a “4th class fail ”, a movie buff and a self-made man who runs a cable business in a Goan village. He loves watching movies so much that he stays in his office all night, devouring every scene in the films that his cable channels telecast. Then, in the morning, when most people are going to work, Vijay comes home to his wife, Nandini (Shriya Saran, who tries to look older by wearing saris and instead only highlights how fresh-faced she is). The only nights that Vijay comes home to Nandini are the ones on which there’s a Sunny Leone film playing on TV. [caption id=“attachment_2373808” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  Ajay Devgn in Drishyam.[/caption] However, lest we think Vijay is a grouch who cares nothing for his family, we see him indulging his wife and two daughters, the teenaged Anju (Ishita Dutta) and the little pudding named Anu ( Mrinal Jhadav). These three rule his heart and his modest wallet and all in all, it seems Vijay’s life is well sorted. The only fly in the cup of chai that Vijay enjoys at a little local eatery is the corrupt and unpleasant Inspector Gaitonde (Kamlesh Sawant). As Drishyam sleepwalks its way towards the interval, Gaitonde – played brilliantly by Sawant – doesn’t seem to be much more than a prickle. But Vijay and his family’s idyllic life grinds to a crashing halt when Anju goes on a school trip and returns with a blackmailer in tow. Things quickly take a dramatic turn for the worse and Vijay realizes that to protect his family, he’s going to have to go up against a formidable foe: Inspector General Meera Deshmukh (Tabu). Tabu is the much needed filter coffee (or kaapi) in Drishyam. She is the terrifying IG, faithful to the police force, whom no one dare cross. She doesn’t shy away from ordering extreme measures and her performance matches the fiery and magnificent Asha Sarath in the Malayalam and Tamil versions. Whether she’s ordering a policeman to beat the crap out of a suspect or weeping at the loss of her son, Tabu is magnificent. Of late, Tabu’s filmography could be called Variations Upon the Theme of Mother. If her Ghazala in _Haide_r had shades of an Oedipus complex, her Meera can stoop to the ultimate cruelty for her son. This isn’t the Bollywood mother that Nirupa Roy made famous. Watch out for her final and only silent scene — her face becomes a map of desperate emotions, while her husband does the talking. Opposite her, Devgn underplays his usual-suspect-cum victim role, but to such an extent that he underwhelms.The same is true of the adequate but unmemorable daughters, and Saran as the south Indian version of a Stepford wife. The two women are critical to the film and their performances thoroughly weaken it. It’s in the second half that Drishyam becomes the mystery and investigation that was promised in its trailers. Meera is certain Vijay knows something about her missing son. Vijay and his family, however, have watertight alibis. The last scene may be one of the best climaxes seen in an Indian thriller. The real hero of Drishyam, in all three versions, is Joseph’s script. While his story does share much in common with the The Devotion of Suspect X, the plot is gripping and the characters are fascinating. We see a father with a “heart of gold” and realize that for all his goodness, he is capable of Machiavellian scheming. Pitted against a mother who is equally determined and unrelenting, the contest between Vijay and Meera becomes a deadly duel representing the grey areas between good and bad, moral and immoral. The miscasting of Nandini and the two daughters is a big misstep because there isn’t sufficient empathy with the family as a result. Devgn doesn’t help matters much. He neither looks nor behaves like a common man who is vulnerable to crime or law. He’s always calm and is unconvincing as a country bumpkin. The central turning point of the crime – a truly tense moment in Drishyam – is done away with too quickly. The net effect is that with every scene of the Hindi Drishyam, you find yourself longing for the Malayalam and Tamil versions. Still, all said and done, Kamath’s Drisyham proves a carbon copy is just that: a decent copy.