THIS IS NOT A REVIEW, PLEASE!

         If whoever is going to read this have not watched 24, please do watch and then read (or don't read).

         When was the last time we saw Surya in a gripping movie with almost all check boxes ticked off successfully? I guess the last such outing was Ayan. Aadhavan was a sloppy story, Singam series were just routine cop sagas, Anjaan does not require any words to describe and Mass was a decently good story that got dragged down by chaotic screenplay. Even Ayan did not have scope for the actor’s abilities; it was the director (K V Anand), who made it a hit.

         With 24, it seems like Surya is back on track. May God protect him from the next release, Singam 3! This is not a review on 24; there have been zillions of them trending all over the internet. The following will be the compilation of certain aspects that would show the amount of groundwork the crew has done to make 24 a success. One could easily split the worth of the standard 120 bucks paid for the movie into five categories, each worth 24 rupees – screenplay, direction, cast, music and art.

         The lullaby song Aaraaro deserves a special mention for the lyrics and the way it has been tuned in by the legend. Each and every line of the track is about the baby, but also does it metaphorically imply time. ‘Kanney Nee Aala Pirandhavan Aaraaro’ ultimately means time is the boss; Don’t the lines, ‘Mannil Thondrum Uyirukku Yedho Artham Irukkumadaa; Endhan Artham Nee Dhaaney Endhan Andham Nee Dhaaney’ enlighten that time is the answer for everything? Coming to the perspective of screenplay, this song comes at a juncture when the time traveling device has successfully been activated. Now, imagine the ‘Aala Pirandhavan’ phrase and it gives away that time rules the world, and time can heal everything. I have hardly seen any movie in the recent times that had this depth in the first ten minutes. And, my belief about Madhan Karky that he is capable of only Googles and Selfies got shattered.

         For a movie of this sort, dialogues play an important role because B and C centre audience need to be satisfied only by explaining the concept of time then and there, while also taking care they do not become preachy. That moment when a random passer-by enlightens Surya on ‘Why don’t you travel forward?’ is just a sample. This random person is about to fall due to a banana skin that that lies in the road, but the protagonist warns him beforehand because he had seen already that this person would fall. The person thanks him and says, “Pinnaadi Paathutey Nadandhu Vandhen, Munnaadi Paakala”. I was wowed at this instance. Just a line. Just about ten words had conveyed the power of that time machine, just about ten words had informed the audience that this watch could perform wonders, just about ten words had educated us about the concept of time.

         There are many such junctures. Take this situation when Aathreya wakes up from coma after 26 years. “Ennaachu Mithra?”, “Vayasaayiduchu, Sir”. Consider this scene where Girish Karnad says, “Inimey Nadandhadhu Yedhayum Maatha Mudiyaadhu. Nadaka Poradhaavadhu Nalladhaa Nadakatum”. Imagine the scene when Saranya Ponvannan laments about the unexpected rains. Reminisce the visual where Surya asks Samantha to come exactly at 2’o clock. Think of the name of the watch mechanic himself – Mani. Everything has something to do with time.

         There were negative reviews about Surya using the watch for silly reasons, like pouring ink on Samantha’s sari, deflating the tyre in her vehicle, etc. But this is where reality sets in. This is not the Surya who fist pumps as Duraisingam. This is the character called Mani, a common man. As a human being of his age, he wishes to impress the girl. This could very well be compared to the scene in Baba when Rajnikanth uses one of the seven wishes for a trivial reason, like making Ramya Krishnan ask, ‘What’s the time now?’ One never knows about the potential of something unless the need arises. And, that need arises with TIME. These kinds of thin, underlying philosophies make the movie even more interesting.

         Coming to the art and visual effects, I am just stuck for words. From the mechanical contraption in the watch swinging back and forth to implement the change in time to that fiery-eyed bird that is a metaphor to the Butterfly Effect of the Chaos Theory, this is just too good. The cricket match graphics could have been done better but it matters about the creativity of the director to incorporate it into the flow of the movie. If the 360 degree view of the laboratory in the first frame does not make one dumbstruck and think, “Dude, I just wanna become a scientist”, with goosebumps, what else could? The house, the cradle of the baby, the secret cabin, the train and what not.

         What is the simplest way to indicate the motion of time along the lines of the screenplay? There comes a train. Somehow, this should imply ‘Time has come’. The rotation of the wheels of the train is shown in close-up shots, and after some time, the antagonist is found to utter a dialogue, which roughly translates as “180 seconds of delay in my birth from yours has transformed our lives by 180 degrees”. After sometime, the train wheels are again zoomed in, and the baby is handed over to Saranya. Again, a 180 degree paradigm shift. The baby gets a new lease of life. Masterclass! I would only request some TV channel to just organize some function as a tribute for this Kollywood’s Amma already.

         ARR has made music speak. There is a very similar background score to that of the Mausam and Escape of Slumdog Millionaire. Pleasant situation followed by stark ones are handled effectively by this style. The Aatral Arasey instrumental is not the same in terms of the tune in comparison with the Arima Arima instrumental in Endhiran, but both convey the depths for the positives and negatives. Look at the name Aathreya, the meaning of this name is ‘cunningly clever’. And, listen to the theme music that comes in. There’s a bit of a howling instrument resembling a fox’s noise. There are more such nuances. The camera that zooms out with that gradually ascending sound levels of the chords, along with that frozen bubbles of raindrops transports the viewers to a different feel altogether.

         As I type this in, that thought of ‘What next?’ keeps creeping in. In a different perspective (which is called frame of reference in the concept of time :P Just trying to be intellectual), this movie would have been appreciated like crazy had it been directed by Shankar. Not that it is being regarded less now, the magnitude is what I am reiterating. We have been trained to view movies for brands, for stars, for the glamour; very few movies teach us to look at them as an art form. And, 24 is one of them.