‘Sorgavaasal’ Netflix Movie Review - A Collection of Thesis Statements

"There are only two paths in life: Either kneel down in Heaven or be the king in Hell," says someone at the beginning of Sidharth Vishwanath's Sorgavaasal. By the end, you realize that the film, written by Krishnakumar, is nothing but a collection of shallow thesis statements. Here is another one: Is jail meant to reform, or does it just drag you deeper into crime? Parthiban (RJ Balaji), who runs a roadside eatery, is falsely accused of killing an ex-IAS officer. He just happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But is Parthiban actually innocent? From his fiancé's (Saniya Iyappan) perspective, he comes across as a diligent worker and a horny lover. When another character talks about Parthiban, he is shown as rowdy - an ill-disciplined geezer. One man has many reflections. One person will say you are sweet, while another will see you as evil. Sorgavaasal, though, isn't very interested in playing with the Rashomon structure - it's pretty dim-witted. Its primary concern is to inform you how an innocent man can become a criminal because of the corrupt system. Everybody is a puppet. The prisoners follow Siga (Selvaraghavan), a gangster. Siga listens to a priest who prays to Jesus. SP D. Sunil Kumar (Sharaf U Dheen) exerts control over his juniors and all the prisoners, but he is also controlled by a politician.

Due to this hierarchical structure, the top people exploit those at the bottom. A trans character is considered as a man or as a woman as per the "convenience" of powerful prisoners. One can mine relevant points from Sorgavaasal, though this doesn't really hide the stench of blandness. The filmmakers are so preoccupied with making grand statements that they forget to make a decent, coherent prison drama. Ismail (Natty Subramaniam) interrogates various people to get a clear picture of the riot that took place at Madras Central Prison, and when the characters talk, the film cuts to the flashbacks. It's funny how these interviews occur in chronological order. The interviewees aren't allowed to complete their statements. Rather, Vishwanath cuts from one character to another at just the right moment so that the entire story - the one that unfolds inside the prison - is presented to the audience in a neat and clean manner. It's all very tidy convenient and calculated. This makes you wonder if the director considers us so dumb that he thinks we wouldn't be able to join the pieces without a straightforward structure. The filmmaker's lack of trust in the audience is as heinous as the assault on the prisoners. Sure, police brutality is bad. But what about a film that treats viewers like knuckleheads? It's also equally terrible.

Krishnakumar gives us very flat characters. The relationship between them is only as deep as the plot requires. Kendrick (Samuel Abiola Robinson) and Tiger Mani (Hakkim Shah) are Siga's closest friends because they move the story in a particular direction later. Parthiban has a fiancé and a mother, so he can weep and remember them and add an emotional layer to Sorgavaasal. We don't care about any of these characters - they are all mouthpieces. When someone dies or is betrayed, we shrug our shoulders with indifference. There came a moment when I thought to myself, "Hey, what happened to that trans character?" The movie relegates this character to the sidelines after using their pain to dispense a message. This feels more offensive than whatever sexual harassment the character experiences in the prison. Vishwanath puts RJ Balaji's character under too much emotional torture because the actor's sad puppy dog face cries for our sympathy - it looks like a musical cue prompting us to shed tears. His "loud, noticeable performance" is in sync with an obvious film, an obvious material. Sorgavaasal means Gate of Heaven, but it's so unsubtle it takes us to the Gate of Hell instead.

Final Score- [3.5/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times