I learnt about this Tamil film after it was released on OTT a week ago. Since Netflix had categorised it as a “Comedy”, I decided to watch it. These days, one hardly gets to watch a comedy film in Tamil, I thought. The title Modha Rathiri, meaning “First Night” in Tamil, also sounded like a hook for slapstick comedy. If you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, you shouldn’t judge a film by its title either.
Just like documentaries about, say, the Osama Bin Laden hunt operation, where they keep showing slides with “so many hours to go for the strike”, the film opens with a card designed in a typical yellow marriage invitation template, saying “13 hours before the First Night”. As the film progresses, this card keeps reappearing with the time to go reduced. Then we are taken inside a house in a village in Tamil Nadu, on the day of the wedding. However, we learn that the groom has not yet arrived, and he is still expected to arrive from Dubai just that morning. Even as he arrives, he doesn’t know that it is his wedding. Meanwhile, the bride is busy trying to connect with her boyfriend, who has promised to reach the marriage venue in the early hours so the couple can elope and live their dream lives. The setting, involving a groom who seemingly doesn’t know that he is arriving in his village for his own wedding and a bride who is planning to duck the wedding, is therefore interesting. For almost 20 minutes, we see, in reasonable detail and all in the name of comedy, what happens in a typical village marriage home setting involving a bunch of relatives from both sides.
As the placeholder slide keeps telling us how much time is left for the first night, the actual story of the two protagonists unfolds. To me, frankly, the so-called comedy in the writing didn’t land at all. While it tries to feel grounded in rural TN, the writing is too loud and too stereotypical. The screenplay plays out on four parallel tracks – what is happening with the couple, what is happening with the womenfolk, what is happening with the menfolk from both sides, and what is happening with the lover boy. After a while, this becomes very predictable and stale, with no real movement in the story. Only toward the very end do we see what’s in the hero’s mind about his life. Amidst all this, the director, who also wrote the script, tries to do virtue signalling through scenes on women’s empowerment and casteism, etc., which didn’t feel organic. The film got brownie points from critics because of this, I am sure. But what isn’t clear is what the director was trying to do with the lead lady’s characterisation. While she says that she was never allowed in her life to make her own choices, why was she hell-bent on marrying a guy who seemed to be a loser from first sight? And as for that separate, supposedly comedic track involving the cot meant for the first night, the less said, the better.
This is Director Raja Karuppaswamy’s first film. For a debut effort, he shows a fairly good command of the craft overall. His assembly of the supporting cast around the main couple works well. Rishikanth, who plays the groom, has few lines and gives a measured performance. Anishma Anilkumar has far fewer lines. When she speaks, it is mostly an emotional outburst. The dialogue delivery leaves a lot to be desired. The director himself plays the lover-boy role and doesn’t leave much of an impression. Bhagavathy Perumal has a forgettable role as a relative who is seen carrying his late brother-in-law’s photo throughout and behaving like a ‘Naraz fufaji’!
I found Bharath Shankar’s background score unique and imaginative. This may be the only film in which the entire BGM has an excessive use of traditional Tamil Nadu percussion instruments such as the Thavil, Urumi, and Parai, regardless of the mood. The Thavil, in particular, plays a significant role throughout the film, attempting to create a comedic setting where the writing falls short.
As the opening credits roll, a card appears in memory of director-writer K. Bhagiaraj, who left us a few weeks ago. By the end of the film, we realise the tribute was more than timely. The film is also an ode to one of Bhagiaraj’s all-time hits, Antha Ezhu Naatkal. An ace writer with a solid comic bone, Bhagiaraj held our attention throughout and made the climax work, even though it wasn’t a very happy ending. Modha Rathiri, on the other hand, has a similar theme and a happy ending, but its patchy writing made it hard for me to stay engaged. Now streaming on Netflix, Modha Rathiri is an average watch.
My Flash Verdict: A Just-about-average watch.
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