Uncommon housefly. Every once in a while comes a film that doesn’t just stun and awe, but redefines the rules. Shiva did it for the super strong hero. Eega does it for the physically weak hero. The film is a virtuoso display of the strength of concept. It’s like a breathtaking body-building show for the mind; and heart.
Prepare to fly. The very beginning of the film stole my heart. It is a black screen and the voice of a child asks her father to tell her a story. After much pestering he relents. By this disarming voice-over during the titles, the director prepares everyone for a fairy tale. An ingenious device to ensnare and enrapture.
Fly-paper. First, you need paperwork to trap and develop an uncommon thought. Eega is one of the best-written screenplays in a long long time. Every thought and characterisation are utilised in multiple ways. The heroine’s passion for micro sculpting, planted in the very beginning, keeps paying off intermittently, surprisingly, brilliantly and poetically until the very end. The hero’s event management service, involving fireworks, leads to an explosive climax. By itself the act of the villain pulling off the fly’s wing is traumatic. In making the hardiest soul in the audience flinch and bay for the slaying of evil, the dismembered wing has served its purpose. But, later, by becoming a treasured keepsake in the locket of the heroine the thought has gone one level higher.
No gravity, no flying. The very difficulty of narrating such a story is its savior. It becomes a captivating visual saga as there’s very little dialogue. Flies don’t talk, or hector, or throw challenges. They perform while pictures and music talk with captivating eloquence. One wonders if the same inventiveness and ingenuity in scripting with an eye for microscopic detail were applied to a film with a star! What range of success would it see? The sky would be the limit. Eega has gloriously proved the primacy of an idea. When that is strong and fresh, even the flimsy wings of a fly acquire the span of an eagle.
Dream to fly. If the film you love is widely acclaimed and also makes tons of money, the feeling is ethereal. It’s like a magical dish: a sinfully rich chocolate cake that has no calories, is good for your heart, liver and kidneys, adds a 100 to your marks-sheet in heaven, and strengthens your teeth! Thanks, Rajamouli, for baking it.