Jyothika’s ‘Ponmagal Vandhal’ Struggles to Stand on Its Own

Ponmagal Vandhal is the first big feature film to release online post lockdown, since it couldn’t hit theatres earlier this year (remember COVID-19?). It’s definitely a smart move since producers can’t wait endlessly for the dust to settle and this way they can at least move on to other projects and focus their energies on things that require their immediate attention.

Now, coming back to the Tamil courtroom drama Ponmagal Vandhal, where there’s a solid case at the center, everything seems to be in perfect order. However – I use that word cautiously – there’s just not enough punch in it. And when I say “order,” I’m particularly referring to the way it unfolds – a dead-and-buried case is reopened fifteen years later and the layers keep falling off one after another.

If you take a look at its trailer, there’s the inimitable Jyothika (as Venba) stepping into the shoes of an advocate. She’s fighting for a woman named Jyothi, who’s been accused of kidnapping and killing five children. It’s not just the gender of the perpetrator that’s being questioned here. It’s also about the place she hails from, i.e. her cultural identity. There’s clearly a wall between the South Indians and the North Indians. And there’s a bit of mistrust, maybe even animosity, between the two groups. The first thing that comes to mind is the language. Of course, you can keep adding to the list and that’s how the whole brouhaha over Jyothi’s birth place is fought in the court - is she a North Indian "Psycho" Jyoti (as the cops say), or a woman who spoke the language of the Dravida Nadu?

These initial scenes are really nice, as they pull you in completely. And, since we don’t know enough about Jyothi, we easily side with Venba. On the other hand, there’s Rajarathinam (R Pathiepan), who, without raising his voice much, makes Venba take a step back. Rajarathinam is not an ordinary newbie. He’s a criminal lawyer who’s been in this business for a long time. At one point, he says that he comes from a family of lawyers (he means it’s in his blood). So, what does Venba have then? The truth, she says! It’s another matter as to whether that alone is enough in an Indian court that depends on witnesses and evidence.

Somewhere along the course of the film, Ponmagal Vandhal stops being a drama about two advocates pulling rabbits out of their hats and morphs into a ‘message movie’.

The message is important and nobody can deny that in any manner. It speaks about child sexual abuse without making it appear voyeuristic and the writing depends on the trauma of the survivors entirely. So far, so good. But, when the fault lines emerge in the third act, director JJ Fredrick seems to channelize his thoughts through Venba via speeches.

The main problem with message movies is that they tend to mimic documentaries. And all the embellishments surrounding the one-key message, therefore, look irrelevant – be it ‘Petition’ Pethuraj’s (K Bhagyaraj) introductory scene where he files a case against a tea-seller for serving him a glass of tea with a fly in it, or the one with the Judge (Pratap Pothen) and his friend, Karpooram (Pandiarajan), enjoying a drink and having a conversation under the night sky. These moments, by the end of the run time, turn out to have no connection with the actual message.

The one fiery confrontation that, perhaps, brings the roof down has Venba and Varadharajan (Thiagarajan) in it. The latter, who’s a couple of decades older than the former, calls her “Amma” in the courtroom and when he’s reminded of the etiquette, he loses his temper. He tells her that it is common practice for women to be called Amma and refuses to listen to her; so, Venba, with a look of scorn and sarcasm, says that it’s also common practice for men to be called “Vaada, Poda.” It’s the sort of scene that would have drawn whistles in a theatre.

I’m not saying that message movies don’t serve their purpose. Last year’s Telugu comedy thriller Agent Sai Srinivasa Athreya stood up against superstitious rituals beautifully. Again, it didn’t flounder, or move out of its genre, to make its point. Similarly, the Tamil film Asuran had a message in it – it was about the importance of education and bringing down caste barriers.

Even with the current output, Ponmagal Vandhal is not a terrible film altogether. It’s just that the masks aren’t pulled out neatly. With the arrival of each character, you know how saintly, or evil, they’re going to be. Pathiepan’s character, as the quick-witted lawyer, comes as no surprise and it’s the same with the rest of the characters. If it hadn’t counted on the strength of its dialogues majorly and looked for other avenues to maintain the momentum, it would have probably ended up becoming a better film.

Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars.