Karaiyoram

Karaiyorum is the kind of serviceable thriller that Hollywood keeps churning out very often. A crucial part of the plot of the film is actually lifted from a Hollywood film — Half Light, that was released in 2006 and starred Demi Moore. The director even sets the action in a beach house close to a lighthouse, as was the case in that film! Here, Priya (Nikesha Patel), the heir of a dead industrialist, comes to the seaside hamlet to recover from the loss of her sister. She falls in love with a local, John (Vashishta Simha), who lives inside the lighthouse. But her neighbours tell her that John has been dead for the past 10 years. Her best friend, Ramya (Ineya) suggests that she take psychiatric help. Meanwhile, she keeps seeing John at odd places. Is Priya going insane or has she become the victim of a sinister plot? Karaiorum progresses from one point to the next with hardly any inspired touches and at a leisurely pace that we neither care for the film nor its characters, who are just archetypes. The fact that the dubbing is off in several places doesn't help. And the twist is something that is very evident from the time when we are told that John has long been dead. So, there is no surprise when we finally get the denouement, via a star cameo — Simran, who appears as a tough cop and gets to channel our masala movie heroes and perform some slo-mo stunts. But the saddest aspect is that even if it is only recycling cliched tropes, the film shows no apparent ambition in wanting to thrill its audience. It is more interested in titillating viewers and wastes the entire first half by making its heroine cavort around in either skin-tight sportswear, extremely short skirts or night gowns. The camera captures her every movement with voyeuristic delight even as she dances around to lines that go "Kattika kattika, koosaama kattika/Ottika ottika, nee pasa potu ottika". In that sense, the film is a Nikesha Patel show. But, to give the film some credit, it isn't embarrassed about objectifying the male lead — Vasishta Simha — as well. Perhaps, we should be thankful for such small mercies!