Manamey: Concocted Emotions

Star Cast: Sharwanand, Krithi Shetty, Seerat Kapoor, Ayesha Khan, Vennela Kishore, Rahul Ravindran, Rahul Ramakrishna, Shiva Kandukuri, and Sudharshan 
Dialogues by Arjun-Carthyk, AR Tagore, and Venkat D 
Cinematography by Gnana Sekhar VS and Vishnu Sharma 
Music Composed by Hesham Abdul Wahab
Editing by Prawin Pudi 
Directed by Sriram Adittya

A healthy emotional entertainer connotes lovely scenes, memorable performances, and a well-tailored organic screenplay. Consider Lava Kusa [1963], a gem among Telugu classical films, which features 22 songs, including shorter ones. Remarkably, none feel superfluous or disrupt the narrative’s momentum. As Indian theatre transitioned into musical drama, early filmmakers skillfully incorporated this element into cinema. Although musicals are prevalent in theatres and films abroad, they are not as common in India. Therefore, when conceiving a film as a musical drama, it’s crucial to understand the sensibilities of the people you’re catering to. Each song should propel the emotional narrative, not halt the momentum. Unfortunately, this film falters by overloading the script with an excess of musical numbers.

Consider Gorantha Deepam [1978], which seamlessly weaves songs into its storytelling at well-timed intervals. Although not a full-fledged musical, the songs enhance rather than detract from the narrative. The legendary filmmaker Bapu skillfully integrated music into his films, such as Buddhimanthudu [1969] and Andala Ramudu [1973], without them being classified as musicals. He also masterfully treated mythological films like Sampoorna Ramayanam [1971] and Sita Kalyanam [1976] as musicals. These films demonstrate an organic flow of emotions, where songs emerge naturally within the screenplay. If these examples seem dated, consider Sahasam Swasaga Saagipo [2017] by Gautham Vasudev Menon, which presents the first half as a musical romance and the second as a thriller. Similarly, in Neethane En Ponvasantham / Yeto Vellipoindi Manasu [2012], the romance and narrative are driven by music. K. Balachander’s films like Maro Charitra [1978], Aakali Rajyam [1980], Duet, Rudraveena [1988], Dance Master/Punnagai Mannan [1986], Kokilamma [1983], and others, though not musicals, effectively convey emotions through their songs. While there are many such examples, the crux of the matter is that this particular film becomes irksome with its overabundance of songs, which, instead of advancing the story, disrupt the narrative flow.

When it comes to parenting scenes, the movie follows a template. The protagonist doesn’t care for emotions and he finds it difficult to adjust to the pooping of the kid, follow a timetable or be responsible. We have seen these scenes in many films and additionally, makers don’t create such a scene for female lead. It is almost like even though the female lead is fairly young in the movie timeline too, she is ready to become a mother just in a fraction of a second. It is the male protagonist who has 100s of issues. In between the songs, we get some forced fights for heroes to showcase heroism. The narrative forces these elements without integrating them meaningfully into the main storyline. The antagonist’s impact on the protagonist’s circle remains ambiguous, and the hero’s passive stance towards this threat is baffling. His involvement in the plot is fleeting at best. Furthermore, the restaurant’s revival is inconsequential, serving merely as a narrative tool. These scenarios are designed to place the child in perpetual jeopardy, ostensibly to foster the protagonist’s paternal instincts, yet they come across as artificial constructs, ONLY. Ayesha Khan’s subplot is overextended, lacking resolution or significance to the lead’s evolution. The ‘fiancé’ character is similarly misplaced, with an undefined presence. None of these narrative threads enhance the comedy or contribute to the protagonist’s emotional development. This approach seems to reveal the creators’ intent to inject commercial elements into the movie arbitrarily.

The plot bears a resemblance to Life as We Know It [2010] and ByTwo Love [2022], yet the execution is vastly inferior. The technical elements, such as cinematography, editing, and VFX, are so poorly executed that they cause discomfort in the audience. The visuals are so clumsily crafted that the excessive color correction is blatantly apparent, creating an artificial look. London’s natural charm is lost amidst the digitally altered visuals dominated by blue tones. The VFX are particularly disappointing, despite the budget allowing for shooting in London, the film fails to utilize realistic properties from Unreal Engine. It begs the question of why Deccan Dreams, the in-house VFX studio, wasn’t given adequate time to produce high-quality output. This issue is reminiscent of BRO [2023], which suffered from shoddy and hastily assembled backgrounds. The rush to complete a film should not lead to a compromise in quality. We are in 2024, filmmakers are expected to plan meticulously, execute with utmost care, and be receptive to improvisation, on-the-fly improvements, or necessary reshoots to ensure the delivery of a sophisticated and superior final product. Resorting to outdated excuses from the 1980s, such as budget constraints or production delays, to justify a decline in quality is simply inadmissible. With audiences demanding superior content and visuals, regardless of the star power involved, there is no excuse for compromise.

The primary shortcoming of Manamey lies in its script. It seems Sriram Adittya attempted to cram too much into a single narrative. The hero is portrayed as a reckless, egotistical, megalomaniacal, alcoholic womanizer, endowed with ‘super’ abilities to fight, create graffiti, and excel academically. But why? Parenthood doesn’t require perfection, rather, it’s a journey of gradually polishing one’s flaws. Academic brilliance isn’t a prerequisite for success, one can carve out a successful path through the responsibility of providing for a child. Why must a film’s hero be a paragon of virtue rather than an everyman? The true delight is in witnessing an ordinary individual rise to superhuman challenges through parenthood. Yet, this element is the film’s weakest link, as the protagonist abruptly transforms following an outburst from a seemingly insignificant character. Why couldn’t this catalyst be the love interest? Coming to the female lead, she always talks about the value of “word” or “promise”. How did she lose that belief in “giving a word” in just one night? Did she really fall for the hero? If so, when? She constantly cribs about the hero’s recklessness but never tries to be “protective” of this reckless man. Why? She tries to keep a timetable but is never shown following it. Why? Guardians or caregivers do not get rights on the entire property unless they get nominated or fight legally. Why does that evil friend want their approval? Why can’t the director explore the struggles of two individuals thrust into cohabitation and joint parenting, instead of introducing a superfluous third party, reminiscent of Jab We Met ? Why do we shy away from focusing solely on the dynamics of two confined characters? Why introduce numerous peripheral characters only to have them vanish when convenient for the plot? When you keep questioning why… All you end up with is whining about why(s) within yourself as why gets to you and eats you up from the inside without letting you think about why not.

Hesham Abdul Wahab’s music might work as individual tracks, but together with the director, they failed to establish a cohesive tone for the film. The result feels disjointed as if one is driving in one direction while the other is heading in the opposite. Despite this, the tracks are pleasant to listen to. Prawin Pudi’s editing could be a contender for the Golden Raspberry Award for all the randomness. Similarly, the scriptwriter and director might vie for their own Baskhar awards for crafting “meaningless scenes” and “overly melodramatic execution.”  Emotional acting isn’t just about widening eyes and shedding tears in high-speed frames. Krithi Shetty should abandon the acting coaches who are training her to “perform” in such a manner. Sharwanand did his best, but the writing didn’t support him, even as he attempted to shoulder the film, the director overloaded him. Well, Manamey could be an Oscar award nominee film for being random at the right places and dragging at the wrong ones, much like a game of Snakes & Ladders where one can ascend swiftly only to plummet into an abyss. There snakes do appear waiting for you, here plotholes are as continuous as potholes on any road in the rainy season.

Theatrical Trailer:

Manamey Review, Manamey Telugu Review, Sharwanand Manamey Review.