Roses and thorns. Review on Vinnaithandi Varuvaya Movie

I don't like simbu - I used to think the second half of his name should be replaced with the letters 'ian' i don't like trisha - she has enough wood in her expression to build a tharavadu. I went to watch vinnai thaandi varuvaaya because the movie was made by gautam menon - how wrong can a gvm movie get anyway! And because I was seeing it with some very dear friends.

Vtv is easy to pick holes in, and laugh at, and I did both. Love happens at first sight, dialogues and situations are cliched - love across religions, disapproving families, we've seen it all before.the screen is littered with characters who mouth 3 lines and disappear, silly choreography (a gvm trademark) takes away from the beauty of the songs, simbu declares his love every two minutes, and trisha changes her mind every five, the hero and heroine refuse to make love without the sanction of marriage. Towards the end you start wondering what the point of all that song and dance is.

Take the movie apart, and practically every piece is flawed.

Yet, somewhere down the line, vtv shuts your analytical/critical mind out. It stops being a series of improbable vignettes, and becomes a gritty feeling you can't brush aside. It puts its fingers around your throat, and forces out another laugh. This time at the memory of yourself in a situation similar to the one playing out on the screen.

It reminds you of the time you looked at someone and couldn't look away. Of the time you couldn't make up your mind whether you loved, or did not. Of the time you loved too much and the time you didn't love enough. Of the time you asked yourself - why does he/she love me? Why doesn't he/she love me? Why doesn't he/she love me enough ? Why doesn't he/she love me anymore? How could he/she love me and still walk away? Why do I continue to breathe? How can I go on?

And whether you are single, or one half of a couple, happily or otherwise, it reminds you of the time when your life was a mad riot of emotions. When your every thought was drenched with desire. When you knew you would never get over heartbreak. And of the time when you finally realised love was neither fair, nor logical, but life went on anyway.

It forces you to acknowledge that no matter how much time has gone by, or how much you laugh at a reel-romance that you pretend has nothing to do with anything you have ever felt, you never really get over your heartbreaks; you simply put them away. Out of sight. Boxed up. Waiting for the nudge that will bring the memories tumbling out.

And if you are alone that night, vinnai thaandi varuvaaya makes sure sleep will not be your companion.

Love it or hate it, you've got to give gautam vasudev menon this - he knows how to connect with his audience, and he knows how to unearth, and expose, raw nerves.

And finally, it makes you want to smash your computer, because you've got the haunting number aaromale ( youtube.com/watch?V=vjkzdozd6gy&feature=related ) playing on a loop, and it rubs on those raw nerves.