When I was reading Keigo Higashino's The Devotion Of Suspect X, I could see why this book intrigued countless filmmakers. With only a handful of characters, each of whom is relevant to the story in some way, and a meticulous plot packed with sly twists, it needed skill and a strong structure to be as effective in its adaptation. It was the perfect test of someone's filmmaking talent. And although it made great use of its setting of urban Tokyo, it was thematically universal. The story was versatile in the sense that it could just as easily have been set in any other city around the world and still have retained the essence of the original backdrop.
Indian filmmaker Jeetu Joseph recognized this trait. In 2013, he made Drishyam, a film that has been incorrectly designated as an adaptation of The Devotion Of Suspect X. It is no adaptation. The skin of the story is identical, yes, but Drishyam was a potboiler with a very "Indian" backdrop. It had the novel's craftiness replaced by light melodrama and its bright sleuths and criminals replaced by brutish cops and a weepy family. And yet, Drishyam was exceedingly clever and engrossing when it got busy unravelling. While The Devotion Of Suspect X plunged into the pulp of its story right away, Drishyam took far too long to establish its characters. But because of its ingeniousness, it lead to no less than four remakes in four languages.
Nishikant Kamat's Hindi remake is utterly faithful to the Malayalam original, so much so that the dialogues are direct translations, but somehow this one is afflicted by some of the old problems and some new ones. But the Hindi-language remake is also a specimen of how the presence of a great actor can hinder the film from being nothing but a hollow remake.
It is not for the first time that a Hindi film has misrepresented the scenic landscapes and antiquated cities of Goa, take it from someone who has his roots there. Like many recent films starring Ajay Devgn, the Goa in Drishyam bears a striking resemblance to some lush getaways not far from Mumbai. This fallacy is particularly interesting, because Higashino used the Tokyo setting in his novel to add layers to the story while Kamat does nothing of that sort. There is no indication that we are really in Goa except for the characters' continual references to Goan cities and the fact that the local restaurant (named "Martin's Corner," no less; you might find a restaurant called that on every turn in Goa) sells seafood. Those are not enough details to authenticate the pastoral Goan setting.
As mentioned before, this film is a loyal remake. Like the original, it takes its own sweet time, almost the whole of the first-half, to construct the characters, show them living a happy life before tossing in an incident that would crumble their world. It is the quintessential underdog story; a man is protecting his family from the ire of a top cop whose son is missing. Needless to say, a cat-and-mouse game ensues and things get deliciously twisty.
But post the intermission, Drishyam turns into a different film altogether. Long gone are the happy days and long gone are the happy faces. Each face in the film is marked by anxiety, which heightens the tension, undoubtedly. The pacing is brisk and the unravelling, meticulous and controlled, is superbly handled. It is almost surprising to see the second-half bolting toward an explosive showdown in contrast to the first-half tootling along like a carefree child toward nothingness. This change is so effective, in fact, that one probably won't notice the relentlessly cheesy dialogue or the cardboard characters when such delightful deftness is on display.
The only slight improvement in Kamat's Drishyam is, of course, Tabu's inclusion in the cast. The "top cop" character in the original wasn't as menacing or purposeful as Tabu makes it seem here, and her cold stares makes it difficult to predict the imminent turn of events. Casting Ajay Devgn opposite her as the desperate father may not have been the brightest of casting calls, but he is appropriately earnest. Though, I felt his brawny persona, a result of playing so many beefy characters for too long and hamming it up for all those entertainers, does affect an honest performance from him in a way.
But Drishyam's biggest goof is that far too much goes unexplored. Avinash Arun, who breathtakingly shot the recent Masaan and the terrific Killa (also directed) earlier this year, is curbed from doing much with his camera. The consequence? The picturesque locales remain a part of the landscape and we don't get regular eyefuls of them. The characters have suppressed emotion and angst and desperation, but nothing comes to the fore. The only emotion that comes to the fore is what drives the plot in that context, not what makes the characters human.
Eventually, skill and craft get Drishyam past the finish line. It needs to be said that it is nearly an hour too long. But in hindsight, one can't shake off the feeling that it could have been so much more. Still, this is a solidly entertaining potboiler.
(Not For Reproduction)
Indian filmmaker Jeetu Joseph recognized this trait. In 2013, he made Drishyam, a film that has been incorrectly designated as an adaptation of The Devotion Of Suspect X. It is no adaptation. The skin of the story is identical, yes, but Drishyam was a potboiler with a very "Indian" backdrop. It had the novel's craftiness replaced by light melodrama and its bright sleuths and criminals replaced by brutish cops and a weepy family. And yet, Drishyam was exceedingly clever and engrossing when it got busy unravelling. While The Devotion Of Suspect X plunged into the pulp of its story right away, Drishyam took far too long to establish its characters. But because of its ingeniousness, it lead to no less than four remakes in four languages.
Nishikant Kamat's Hindi remake is utterly faithful to the Malayalam original, so much so that the dialogues are direct translations, but somehow this one is afflicted by some of the old problems and some new ones. But the Hindi-language remake is also a specimen of how the presence of a great actor can hinder the film from being nothing but a hollow remake.
It is not for the first time that a Hindi film has misrepresented the scenic landscapes and antiquated cities of Goa, take it from someone who has his roots there. Like many recent films starring Ajay Devgn, the Goa in Drishyam bears a striking resemblance to some lush getaways not far from Mumbai. This fallacy is particularly interesting, because Higashino used the Tokyo setting in his novel to add layers to the story while Kamat does nothing of that sort. There is no indication that we are really in Goa except for the characters' continual references to Goan cities and the fact that the local restaurant (named "Martin's Corner," no less; you might find a restaurant called that on every turn in Goa) sells seafood. Those are not enough details to authenticate the pastoral Goan setting.
As mentioned before, this film is a loyal remake. Like the original, it takes its own sweet time, almost the whole of the first-half, to construct the characters, show them living a happy life before tossing in an incident that would crumble their world. It is the quintessential underdog story; a man is protecting his family from the ire of a top cop whose son is missing. Needless to say, a cat-and-mouse game ensues and things get deliciously twisty.
But post the intermission, Drishyam turns into a different film altogether. Long gone are the happy days and long gone are the happy faces. Each face in the film is marked by anxiety, which heightens the tension, undoubtedly. The pacing is brisk and the unravelling, meticulous and controlled, is superbly handled. It is almost surprising to see the second-half bolting toward an explosive showdown in contrast to the first-half tootling along like a carefree child toward nothingness. This change is so effective, in fact, that one probably won't notice the relentlessly cheesy dialogue or the cardboard characters when such delightful deftness is on display.
The only slight improvement in Kamat's Drishyam is, of course, Tabu's inclusion in the cast. The "top cop" character in the original wasn't as menacing or purposeful as Tabu makes it seem here, and her cold stares makes it difficult to predict the imminent turn of events. Casting Ajay Devgn opposite her as the desperate father may not have been the brightest of casting calls, but he is appropriately earnest. Though, I felt his brawny persona, a result of playing so many beefy characters for too long and hamming it up for all those entertainers, does affect an honest performance from him in a way.
But Drishyam's biggest goof is that far too much goes unexplored. Avinash Arun, who breathtakingly shot the recent Masaan and the terrific Killa (also directed) earlier this year, is curbed from doing much with his camera. The consequence? The picturesque locales remain a part of the landscape and we don't get regular eyefuls of them. The characters have suppressed emotion and angst and desperation, but nothing comes to the fore. The only emotion that comes to the fore is what drives the plot in that context, not what makes the characters human.
Eventually, skill and craft get Drishyam past the finish line. It needs to be said that it is nearly an hour too long. But in hindsight, one can't shake off the feeling that it could have been so much more. Still, this is a solidly entertaining potboiler.
(Not For Reproduction)
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