‘Bloody Beggar’ movie review: A fantastic Kavin anchors a delightful dark comedy

Melding emotions with absurdity, debutant Sivabalan Muthukumar’s ‘Bloody Beggar’ is rich in entertainment, crafty world-building, and heart

A delightful old-school energy takes you by surprise as you’re pulled into the world of debutant Sivabalan Muthukumar’s quirky black comedy, Bloody Beggar. It’s a fresh and bizarre attempt, especially for our times, and even the conviction to conceive something of this sort deserves praise.

Remember those old movies in which greed and bad blood drive a wedge between members of a lavish joint family? Titles like Vietnam Veedu, Anbu Sagodharargal or the more unconventional Andha Naal come to mind. With Bloody Beggar, Sivabalan takes such a setting (and the dramatic acting scales of those times), writes many colourful characters with hilarious quirks, and puts a delectably contemporary twist to this suite — it’s the Knives Out of Tamil cinema in a way. The result is a film that works like a charm.

You can tell this story from many perspectives but let’s look at it from the viewpoint of two characters who share an unstated cosmic connection. On one end we have a crooked little beggar (played by Kavin; we’ll call him Beggar), who lives with a young boy named Jack; Beggar uses dubious means to earn a living while Jack sells stationery at traffic intersections. One day, Beggar and Jack decide to watch an old film called Kaettadhai Koduppavane, starring late veteran actor Chandrabose (Radha Ravi) as Lord Shiva. After Beggar scolds Jack for falling short on cash and leaves him at the entrance, the latter asks the Lord on the poster to teach Beggar a lesson and take him away. Call it a divine intervention as Beggar gets trapped inside the house of Chandrabose the following day and has to deal with one too many hurdles to find a way back.

Here is another perspective: once upon a time, there lived a famous actor named Chandrabose, whose four children (Prudhvi Raj, Priyadarshini Rajkumar, Miss Saleema and Padam Venu Kumar) turned out to be the very definition of brats. They grow up and give birth to mini versions of themselves, and after the death of Chandrabose, realise that their father had bequeathed most of his properties (worth more than 200 crores) to his bastard son, whom he had given up for adoption. This son gets killed off by a crooked lawyer (Sunil Sukhada) to favour one of the daughters of Chandrabose, and just as the lawyer is waiting for a scapegoat, he finds a beggar hiding in their bungalow, listening to all their schemes. Chandrabose and Beggar, two ends of the social spectrum, are brought together by fate again, and a dark yet hilarious ride ensues.

Sivabalan walks a tightrope with the screenplay. This is the kind of film in which every sequence must hold your eye, especially considering dwindling attention spans amongst theatre-goers, and thankfully Blood Beggar aces in that regard. Set-ups with great pay-offs do wonders, even when the humour quotient dips a few marks in the second half. One example is how destiny puts Akshaya Hariharan’s character on the Beggar’s side; her Van Gogh-inspired prints hint at her moral compass, while the others become “hounds hunting a deer.”

The director also builds an amusing world, establishes its rules, and weaves recurring motifs to infuse suspense. There’s always a mystery to unravel in this film. What do the recurring shots of air fresheners mean? Who is this brother of Chandrabose we are told about? Who is the boy we see in the first scene of the film? What happened to the beggar’s wife, Kani (Merin Philip)? What is the lawyer’s real play here? And what about a bunch of hungry hounds in cages — when will they come into play?

Many of the quirky lead characters and their interpersonal dynamics find moments to shine throughout the screen time. Vasan (Arshad of Jailer fame), one of Chandrabose’s grandsons, is a laughter mill in every scene he appears; Vasan ‘lives’ as the characters his grandfather played, and in a twisted way, embodies Chandrabose’s presence throughout the film. Even in a quieter role (details best left unsaid), Redin Kingsley leaves you in splits. Credits also go to editor R Nirmal for his witty match cuts and cross-cuts, and to Jen Martin for his funky scores (And songs; ‘Ponmayame’ comes home with you).