Usurae Movie Review:

Usurae unfolds in the picturesque mountains of Chittoor, through Latchee’s (Pavel Navageethan) life as he narrates the romantic saga of Raghava (Teejay Arunasalam) and the deep-rooted love he held for Ranjana (Janany). Latchee explains how Raghava’s love, above everything, stands the test of time and is above every story he has seen and heard. Memories of Kaadhal, Neerparavai, and even Maryan flash through our minds in a minute. And the premise invites its viewers to enter into a world where there might be no tomorrow. Frustratingly, none of these ideas translate or even try to translate on screen.

Cast: Teejay Arunasalam, Janany Kunaseelan, Raasi, Crane Manohar, Senthil Kumari, Adithya Kathir, Thangadurai and Pavel Navageethan

Director: Naveen D Gopal

Raghava’s love for Janany begins as a dare but slowly blossoms into love, an old-school tale that’s perhaps fitting for the 1990s and 2000s but unfolds in 2018 for reasons unknown. Ranjana struggles; she is fearful of her overprotective mother, Anasuya (Raasi). Winning Ranjana’s heart means understanding her mother first. This is no easy feat, as Anasuya is a single mother and detests men in general and wouldn’t mind raising her chappal to whack men who dare ogle at her daughter.

An overbearing mother with past trauma on love and marriages, a daughter struggling to showcase strands of independence, and a man trying to win the heart of his mother-in-law— These are a treasure trove of layers to explore. However, Usurae chooses to remain primitive in its storytelling. It is fair if love itself has a character in the film and unravels in a tug-at-your-heartstrings manner, but it’s rudimentary there as well. Teejay makes an impressive debut as Raghava, even though his character is fleshed out in an underwritten way. At one point, we don’t know if Raghava’s male ego and saviour complex are masquerading as love for Ranjana.

Each of Ranjana’s gestures and moves is accompanied by instantly forgettable songs. Her role comes across as too naïve, one that’s dangerously written as “cute”. Anasuya is painfully one-note as a mother who is simply fuelled by rage and rage only. This is where Usurae completely loses its way in terms of writing. Despite these setbacks, you are led on with strong comedy tracks from Adithya Kathir and Thangadurai that instill some hope for the rest of the story. But the makers leave no room for novelty there either, and Usurae tumbles down multiple times, and not once does it try to work on the streaks of potential it had within itself—like fully utilising the rich cultural terrain of Chittoor, where its residents speak broken Telugu as well as Tamil and have a distinct identity with their religious festivals.

It is in its final moments that Usurae finally breathes, after a few unique punches to the gut. But with the emotional dissonance that marks the rest of the runtime, these scenes, accompanied by a heavy dose of melodrama, become complete misfits to the story. You never connect: neither with the romance nor the saga it tries to prove nor the yearning of its characters. What you do yearn for, instead, is a genuinely well-written romance that makes you gasp for air and life, not one that leaves you emotionally flat.