Idhayam Murali review: Atharvaa's love story fails to confess its own feelings
Idhayam Murali movie review: Atharvaa headlines Idhayam Murali as a man who cannot confess his love. The film lands its biggest laughs through cameos and comedy but struggles to deepen its relationships.
Tamil cinema fans from the '90s have grown up hearing Idhayam Murali in their everyday life. For those who don't know the context, late actor Murali acted in a film titled Idhayam, where his love remains one-sided as he never confesses his feelings. Little did anyone know it would become a pop culture term. Decades later, Murali's son Atharvaa is headlining Idhayam Murali, playing a character who just cannot bring himself to confess his love.
Idhaya (Atharvaa) is a youngster raised by his uncle Thanga (Natarajan Subramanian) — a man who grows up never learning how to convey his emotions. His love life suffers the most, as he simply cannot utter the three words. When a person like Idhaya falls in love, how does he express it? That is the one-liner of Idhayam Murali.
Throw in two pretty heroines — Preity Mukundhan and Kayadu Lohar — a fun bunch of friends, an understanding uncle, a perennially confused hero, and tons of cameos, and you get Idhayam Murali.
Director Aakash Baskaran's film starts off as a breezy romantic entertainer. We are drawn into Idhaya's story through a series of flashbacks anchored by Fahadh Faasil's cameo. Idhaya, as a child, grew up thinking a harmless cheek kiss could make you pregnant. As a youngster, he thought stealing glances is love. As a grown-up, he is confused about what love is and who is right for him.
Idhayam Murali is centred on this perennially confused character who stumbles through life because of his inability to make a choice. His gang of friends — Thaman, Niharika NM, Rakshan, Sudhakar, Dravid Selvam and Angelin — mollycoddle Idhaya at different stages of life.
What works is the situational comedy, especially Sudhakar's (of Paridhabangal fame) expressions and one-liners. Fahadh Faasil lives in the film as a representative of the audience — and when the film gets stuck in a loop, he says, "I'm done", just as the viewer is feeling exactly that. Introduced as a mahanadigan (Great actor in English), his running gags take sharp digs at the lead character's shortcomings and some of the screenplay's more convenient choices. These are the film's highlights.
When these two characters fade away, the film's problems become more glaring. Idhayam Murali's biggest drawback is its premise — having a man who cannot confess love is fine, but stretching that single note across two hours and 30 minutes is a different challenge, and one the screenplay does not always meet. An interesting turn comes when Idhaya falls for Samyuktha (Preity Mukundhan), but her character vanishes mid-way only to reappear later for the story's convenience.
This is also a film where characters keep returning when the writer needs them to. Idhayam Murali suffers from overstretching a story that doesn't have enough meat to justify its runtime. Most critically, Idhaya never undergoes any transformation from start to finish — he is the same person at the end as he was at the beginning, and that is the film's biggest shortcoming.
Idhayam Murali under-explores every relationship it sets up — between Idhaya and his uncle, between Idhaya and the women in his life — and that is precisely why the emotional connect never arrives. Atharvaa sells his character's vulnerabilities with conviction, though. If Idhaya leaves you pissed off by the end, that is arguably the film's success.
Preity Mukundhan gets a meaty role and brings freshness to the story as a career-oriented woman, but her character lacks the depth needed to make the conflicts land. Kayadu Lohar appears in a cameo, and her emotional sequence post-interval is quietly wonderful — and, like everything else here, underdeveloped.
Manoj Paramahamsa's cinematography is one of Idhayam Murali's genuine pleasures, making you fall in love with Trichy, Madurai and New York in equal measure. Composer Thaman's songs, however, are forgettable — the film could have done away with them entirely.
Idhayam Murali is fun when it doesn't take itself seriously. The moment it veers into its story, it exposes its problems rather than playing to its strengths.
Tamil cinema fans from the '90s have grown up hearing Idhayam Murali in their everyday life. For those who don't know the context, late actor Murali acted in a film titled Idhayam, where his love remains one-sided as he never confesses his feelings. Little did anyone know it would become a pop culture term. Decades later, Murali's son Atharvaa is headlining Idhayam Murali, playing a character who just cannot bring himself to confess his love.
Idhaya (Atharvaa) is a youngster raised by his uncle Thanga (Natarajan Subramanian) — a man who grows up never learning how to convey his emotions. His love life suffers the most, as he simply cannot utter the three words. When a person like Idhaya falls in love, how does he express it? That is the one-liner of Idhayam Murali.
Throw in two pretty heroines — Preity Mukundhan and Kayadu Lohar — a fun bunch of friends, an understanding uncle, a perennially confused hero, and tons of cameos, and you get Idhayam Murali.
Director Aakash Baskaran's film starts off as a breezy romantic entertainer. We are drawn into Idhaya's story through a series of flashbacks anchored by Fahadh Faasil's cameo. Idhaya, as a child, grew up thinking a harmless cheek kiss could make you pregnant. As a youngster, he thought stealing glances is love. As a grown-up, he is confused about what love is and who is right for him.
Idhayam Murali is centred on this perennially confused character who stumbles through life because of his inability to make a choice. His gang of friends — Thaman, Niharika NM, Rakshan, Sudhakar, Dravid Selvam and Angelin — mollycoddle Idhaya at different stages of life.
What works is the situational comedy, especially Sudhakar's (of Paridhabangal fame) expressions and one-liners. Fahadh Faasil lives in the film as a representative of the audience — and when the film gets stuck in a loop, he says, "I'm done", just as the viewer is feeling exactly that. Introduced as a mahanadigan (Great actor in English), his running gags take sharp digs at the lead character's shortcomings and some of the screenplay's more convenient choices. These are the film's highlights.
When these two characters fade away, the film's problems become more glaring. Idhayam Murali's biggest drawback is its premise — having a man who cannot confess love is fine, but stretching that single note across two hours and 30 minutes is a different challenge, and one the screenplay does not always meet. An interesting turn comes when Idhaya falls for Samyuktha (Preity Mukundhan), but her character vanishes mid-way only to reappear later for the story's convenience.
This is also a film where characters keep returning when the writer needs them to. Idhayam Murali suffers from overstretching a story that doesn't have enough meat to justify its runtime. Most critically, Idhaya never undergoes any transformation from start to finish — he is the same person at the end as he was at the beginning, and that is the film's biggest shortcoming.
Idhayam Murali under-explores every relationship it sets up — between Idhaya and his uncle, between Idhaya and the women in his life — and that is precisely why the emotional connect never arrives. Atharvaa sells his character's vulnerabilities with conviction, though. If Idhaya leaves you pissed off by the end, that is arguably the film's success.
Preity Mukundhan gets a meaty role and brings freshness to the story as a career-oriented woman, but her character lacks the depth needed to make the conflicts land. Kayadu Lohar appears in a cameo, and her emotional sequence post-interval is quietly wonderful — and, like everything else here, underdeveloped.
Manoj Paramahamsa's cinematography is one of Idhayam Murali's genuine pleasures, making you fall in love with Trichy, Madurai and New York in equal measure. Composer Thaman's songs, however, are forgettable — the film could have done away with them entirely.
Idhayam Murali is fun when it doesn't take itself seriously. The moment it veers into its story, it exposes its problems rather than playing to its strengths.
