Disco Movie Review:
How much violence is too much violence? Indian cinema has been pushing that boundary for some time now, with filmmakers seemingly determined to one-up each other in the action department. Violence in itself isn't the issue. It serves a purpose when used effectively. Arun Matheswaran's DC is a film that properly used violence as a storytelling device. But when a film offers only brutality, and everything else is just a pretext to get to the next bloody action set piece, you know you're in trouble. Unfortunately, Ullas Chemban's Disco is very much that kind of film. Written by Chemban Vinod Jose, it feels almost as if someone watched Unni Mukundan-Haneef Adeni's Marco and went, "What if we went one step ahead?"
Director: Ullas Chemban
Cast: Dev Mohan, Lukman Avaran, Chemban Vinod Jose, Antony Varghese Pepe, Arjun Ashokan, Femina George, Sandra Chandran
Disco is about a gang war which starts with the death of the brother of gangster Yoyaki (Antony Varghese). On the other side is Vethiyamo (Chemban Vinod Jose), a veteran convict and gangster who has a plan to get his hands on the money that Yoyaki and his brother had stolen. He puts together two gangs, one led by Ousu (Dev Mohan) and the other by Darling Marty (Lukman Avaran), to carry out the operation. It all goes horribly wrong. Then there's the police force, who have their own interests, and Ashokan (Arjun Ashokan), who wants his money back from Vethiyamo. It's all the stuff you'd need for a pretty good gangster film.
But Disco simply doesn't know what to do with it. The script is constantly jumping from character to character, timeline to timeline, with absolutely no reason to care about any of them. The non-linear structure only drags us further into confusion. There are periods where it's genuinely impossible to know who's after whom and why. And just as you think it might be getting into some kind of narrative groove, off comes another fight. Then another. Then another. It all eventually just becomes one long string of action sequences with nothing to bind them.
Armo's cinematography does lend the film a certain sheen. There are quite a few stylish shots, loads of slow motion, and Marco-fame stunt choreographer Kalai Kingson really goes the extra mile with the action and violence. The question is, though, how much of that can you really stomach when there's absolutely no emotional commitment to the story? Some of the violence is quite disturbing, and it doesn't add anything to the film. The repeated images of a principal character's head being severed and a pregnant woman being kicked in the stomach are particularly hard to watch. Almost every imaginable form of mutilation also makes an appearance, from nails being driven into palms to toes being subjected to repeated acts of brutality, often in lingering detail.
What's also uncomfortable is how most of the women are written. Apart from a couple of exceptions, they're really just there to put up with the men, their natures and the repercussions of their violent lives. When they're given anything to do, it's generally not going to be anything that gives them any agency. For a film so focused on the men at their most brutal, there's very little interest in looking beyond them.
And the performances are all over the place, really. Chemban Vinod Jose, Lukman Avaran and Dev Mohan do manage to bring some real attitude to their parts. The rest of the cast really don't leave much of an impression. Antony Varghese is unintentionally hilarious as Yoyaki. His attempts at being cool, particularly when he's trying to deliver his English lines, which are obviously meant to be sharp and punchy, simply don't work at all. The interval piece where he swears to avenge his brother is a particularly awkward example.
Manikandan Ayyappa's score and background music try their best to keep the momentum going, but it soon becomes a bit of a chore. It's always there, as if the film is afraid to give us a moment of quiet. Also, it's a very long film for what it has to offer (nearly 2 hours 40 minutes) and by the end you're more likely to be checking the time than wondering what's going to happen next.
Ullas Chemban's directorial debut, Anchakallakokkan, at least had some semblance of purpose in its depiction of raw violence, exploring the bestiality that lies beneath the surface of men. Disco, on the other hand, takes a rather regressive and repellent approach to violence, dishing it out like there's no tomorrow. If gratuitous gore is your thing, this film is tailor-made for you. The rest of us are left with an overlong actioner that is as lifeless as it is noisy.
