Visualising the scene while reading fiction is something most of us automatically do, but the reverse, of imagining how the story would have read on the pages, rarely happens.
All through watching Olu (She), that is what one does, thinking of how different it would have been to just read the story minus the static graphic imagery and some of the melodramatic dialogue dripping artificiality.
Because, there is such material for a captivating short story, with elements of magical realism.
Tete-a-tete with a spirit
Vasu (Shane Nigam), an artist, survives by copying works by other artists and selling it to unsuspecting tourists.
On a full-moon night, drifting alone on a country boat across the backwaters, he begins conversing with a voice from below the water, that of Maya (Esther Anil), the spirit of a girl who was gang-raped and dumped here.
She can see him only on full-moon nights, while she remains unseen to him.
For Vasu, this is the spark of inspiration that he has been seeking. From copying others for money to making his own art, which gets appreciated in major galleries, the rise is quick for him. But then, like all human beings, he is bound to err, giving in to temptations of commercial art and a more realistic love, than the one with the spirit. This is the central conflict of the film, which held such immense possibilities to be explored. For all we know, the entire Maya sequence could be happening inside Vasu’s mind too.
Yet, sadly, much of it is squandered away, as the plastic, soulless conversations, and some weak writing, drags the film down. So much so that even M.J. Radhakrishnan’s evocative imageries fail to save it. The moralistic stand the film leans towards also feels a bit outdated, but then that is excusable considering the place and time where the film is set. Maya comes alive to us through CGI, floating dreamily amid water lilies and little fish.
But one almost wishes that she was never shown to us, just like how she never appears in front of Vasu, as the computer imagery kind of only serves to limit our imagination.
Shaji N. Karun, who has given us classics like Piravi and Vanaprastham , clearly has his sights set high here, to explore the inner conflicts of an artist. Yet, when it all plays out on screen, it unfortunately fails to live up to the ambitions of the filmmaker. S.R. Praveen
