Haven’t we at some point of time tolerated people who were mean to us, just because we loved them? Even if it defied all logic and sense, didn’t we go bouncing back to the person who hurt us and trampled our emotions? Even though our mind told us it is not right and we deserved better, didn’t we let our hearts rule—at least for some time, till we reached a tipping point, till we told ourselves ‘enough is enough’, till love turned into loathe (of course, it just took minutes to forgive and love again!) In retrospect, it is worrisome that we let someone ‘rule’ and ‘overpower’ our thoughts and actions. Yet we did. Maybe in our teenage. Maybe in our twenties. Maybe even now…
Why? Is it under the hope that love alone is enough to transform people and heal all wounds? What is that crazy streak in us that makes us cling to someone so badly and does not let us move away from the scene of hurt, misery and agony? This is what Kaatru Veliyidai made me wonder about, more than anything else.
Why? Is it under the hope that love alone is enough to transform people and heal all wounds? What is that crazy streak in us that makes us cling to someone so badly and does not let us move away from the scene of hurt, misery and agony? This is what Kaatru Veliyidai made me wonder about, more than anything else.
Kaatru Veliyidai is an intensely disturbing and unnerving movie that left me gasping and squirming. I felt anger and resentment simmering in me. I was not happy with VC treating Leela Abraham, a self-respecting doctor, badly, time and again, and a large part of me wished that Leela would just leave him. But then another part of me felt haunting sorrow. This voice said, “Well, don’t leave him. He needs your help.” Perhaps Leela realised this too.
VC is shown as a self-centred, rude man who has all kinds of issues, while Leela is this hopelessly-in-love, vulnerable, doe-eyed damsel who barters common sense and intelligence at the altar of the man she has had a crush on ever since her high school days. It is almost as if her senses vanish under the brute force of her infatuation. She is clearly enamoured by VC and his aircraft-flying prowess and handsomeness. It is so evident in the way she looks at him. She is smitten for sure. So much that she is forced to sweep certain distressing truths under the carpet.
There is shock writ large on Leela’s face when she witnesses his horrific acts of selfishness, outright rudeness and chauvinism, but she gives in to his barrage of his emotional apologies and loud proclamations of love. (VC doesn’t simply say ‘sorry’. He utters a ‘sorry’ train.) There is something about him that makes Leela look beyond his annoying cock-eyed stares.
This 'fallacy' (if I may call it so) exists in all of us. In some form or the other. Mild, severe or somewhere in between. Don’t we brush aside what we don’t want to focus upon? I am not defending VC’s pathetic behaviour, oh no for sure! Nor am I saying it is okay to condone abuse if you truly love someone. I am just saying some of us are ‘guilty’ of letting people hurt us and we keep going back for more.
So, it may not be fair to say Mani Ratnam’s portrayal of VC normalises abusive behaviour, although it may come across to some people like that. And that’s perhaps because Mani Ratnam failed to move beyond establishing the nuances of the characters (which he does in a way only he can!) of Leela and VC.
So, it may not be fair to say Mani Ratnam’s portrayal of VC normalises abusive behaviour, although it may come across to some people like that. And that’s perhaps because Mani Ratnam failed to move beyond establishing the nuances of the characters (which he does in a way only he can!) of Leela and VC.
While we are told here is a raw, naked and stormy relationship with the dominance-submission equation, Mani Ratnam stops there. I wish he had dug deeper to give us more. For instance, what exactly does Leela see in VC? What is she searching for in him? Does she think here is a helpless man who cares deep down, though he doesn’t know how to express it in a positive manner. Though Leela knows this man is no good for her, she is unable to decipher why she keeps going back to him like a puppy. Wish the director had spent more time unravelling Leela’s inner struggles and her forgiving nature. Unfortunately, the story takes a giant turn and gets busy with VC’s prison break attempts. (So, this means how VC transforms from ‘selfish’ to ‘caring’ is also not convincingly portrayed.)
While I didn’t expect Mani Ratnam to solve the complexities of the relationship (perhaps there is no logical answer and maybe we should stop looking for one!), the director doesn’t go beyond scratching the surface to explore the (Freudian?) undercurrents. And therein lies the tragedy of Kaatru Veliyidai.
