Anbe Diana Movie Review: Familiar romance with fairytale-like optimism
Anbe Diana Movie Review: Familiar romance with fairytale-like optimism
Romcoms have long been preoccupied with the pursuit of love rather than the responsibility of receiving it. Their conflicts are usually external: Winning over disapproving parents, overcoming class differences, untangling misunderstandings or defeating the inevitable rival. Once the couple confesses their love, the emotional journey is often treated as complete. Rarely do these films pause to ask what happens after acceptance arrives, whether two people are actually equipped to carry the relationship they fought so hard to begin. Pari Elavazhagan’s Anbe Diana touches upon this seldom-discussed facet of romance. It treads the well-worn roads of the genre while finding warmth and occasional novelty in its emotional destination.
The very names of the leads are curious. It might well be that the makers simply wanted the initials C-S-K (Chirumamilla Sita Krishna) for their hero, played by Pari. Still, Seetha Raman and Radha Krishnan are both common names, while Sita Krishna itself feels like an identity in conflict, much like the man who bears it. He doesn’t know what he wants, even if he does, he fears asserting those desires before his parents, especially his mother. And his feelings for a girl named Magic Gonsalves (Ramya Ranganathan) could not be more unsubtle in signalling that he is a dreamy romantic and, to an extent, a man-child.
The film is a simple, straightforward love story that never takes itself too seriously. Even so, it flirts with a rather uncommon rom-com idea: not knowing how to process acceptance/love, and the accompanying anxiety at the prospect of leaving your comfort zone, no matter how hard it is to put up with. It is a remarkably commonplace feeling that films seldom explore.
The symbiotic relationship between strengths and flaws is Anbe Diana’s distinct feature. There is no possibility of separating the wheat from the chaff here. Pari lends conviction to CSK despite the character‘s thinly sketched backstory, ‘Parithabangal’ Gopi’s Bengaluru Baba repeatedly lifts the film whenever the narrative sags, and Magic’s portions arrive just as CSK’s household routine begins to feel monotonous. Baba’s unique Bengaluru dialect, Magic’s charming outspokenness and the film’s regular bursts of humour ensure that it remains consistently engaging.
Have the characterisations and screenplay done justice to this solid central idea? That is an altogether different question. Some scenes, where Sita Krishna helplessly sides with his mother Sarala (Roja) when he has to stand up to her, work well in isolation. But beyond her raised voice, the film offers little evidence of how emotionally damaging her anger can be. Nor does it suggest that she is manipulative enough to leave lasting psychological scars. Meanwhile, Sita Krishna is the only man in his family without a government or similarly prestigious job. Yet the film never quite explains why he is terrified of defying his family once again. He has already broken convention by choosing to become an athletics coach, avoiding the rat race.
Cast: Pari Elavazhagan, Ramya Ranganathan, Roja, Chetan, ‘Parithabangal’ Gopi
As unconvincing as it is to believe that this son has such deep unresolved issues with his mother, the film never feels emotionally dissonant. That’s because it is difficult to dismiss just how particular and deeply invested Indian mothers tend to be when it comes to their children’s marriages. Walking on eggshells, feeling undeserving of happiness when it finally comes your way, and constantly second-guessing yourself are very real consequences of growing up in a household that continually cuts you down.
The problem is that CSK is never convincingly shown to have endured such an emotional erosion. Yes, he has not landed a government job, but his life is never portrayed as miserable because of it. The occasional taunts from his mother and his obedient younger brother make too weak a case for the lack of confidence and low self-worth that define him. Also, he is not alone in his miseries. Chetan’s Baskar comforts him both with advice and jest. Pari does a commendable job portraying such a man, but the screenplay needed to work much harder to justify that characterisation. Not just that, Baskar’s tippler episodes, while evoking occasional chuckles, fail to lead anywhere; Sarala’s reasoning behind her caste loyalty and CSK’s sister character placement are straight out of the basic Kollywood template.
In addition to Anbe Diana’s strengths mentioned earlier, the film’s overarching beauty lies in its doggedness in not letting the hero have his way easily. That aspect also somewhat makes up for the film’s excesses. The film adeptly calls out Sarala’s casteist mindset, Sita Krishna’s fence-sitting, and his hypocritical misgivings about Magic’s culture. It, however, never takes itself too seriously and meanders into messaging. Although none of the tropes or situations is particularly novel, the film’s rights and wrongs don’t overstay their welcome. It would have been one step too much had Anbe Diana gone the With Love way, immersing itself in the process of the male protagonist mustering courage, losing his inhibitions and holding a mirror to his faulty opinions.
With one of its main characters being Perambur itself, Anbe Diana both thematically and visually transports us into a Disney-like universe, where an emotionally immature hero gradually discovers courage and nobility after a damsel enters his life. The film is at once familiar, flawed and pleasantly fuzzy, embracing a fairytale-like optimism even when its characterisations and screenplay falter. Staying refreshingly clear of overt messaging, Anbe Diana ultimately leaves behind a simple takeaway: not just fortune, but ‘Magic’ too favours the brave. In the film, Magic is not merely an abstract force but a person who nudges Sita Krishna to confront his fears and believe that he, too, deserves happiness and her love.
