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Ratings1.5K
passive-conjurer's rating
Reviews2
passive-conjurer's rating
Taking a somewhat inspired story and attempting to do something insightful with it, 'Husma' is unfortunately dead on arrival with excessive melodrama, cliched story-beats and sub-par acting.
The only main thing worthy of note here is the tasteful nudity provided by the main actress, Chamathka Lakmini, who truly dazzles in her first role by trying to give a convincing physical performance. She succeeds in most part thanks mainly to the command of her absolutely beautiful physique. This alone is worth the price of admission, but it may not be enough for many.
For even she fails to establish an emotional connection with the audience at the end because she's left to struggle with a constrained script and what's obviously some very clueless direction.
There's some scattered social commentary here but it's bogged-down by an implausible plot that's only driven by shock-value and some laughable surface tension.
It's also terribly edited, with scenes dragging-on for too long and plot-points passing-by awkwardly with no real build-up or resolution in between. There's very little sense to any of the character's decisions and it all seems too contrived.
It's the acting though which really turn-off the viewer. Sri Lankan over-acting is rampant here when one of the essential performances put on spotlight to invoke some guilty sympathy, instead ends-up being a hysterically comical riot. This is more or less true of every actor in the flick.
A promising tale told terribly and utterly without tact or class. It could have been much worse, but some disappointment is guaranteed to whoever sees it. Pity.
The only main thing worthy of note here is the tasteful nudity provided by the main actress, Chamathka Lakmini, who truly dazzles in her first role by trying to give a convincing physical performance. She succeeds in most part thanks mainly to the command of her absolutely beautiful physique. This alone is worth the price of admission, but it may not be enough for many.
For even she fails to establish an emotional connection with the audience at the end because she's left to struggle with a constrained script and what's obviously some very clueless direction.
There's some scattered social commentary here but it's bogged-down by an implausible plot that's only driven by shock-value and some laughable surface tension.
It's also terribly edited, with scenes dragging-on for too long and plot-points passing-by awkwardly with no real build-up or resolution in between. There's very little sense to any of the character's decisions and it all seems too contrived.
It's the acting though which really turn-off the viewer. Sri Lankan over-acting is rampant here when one of the essential performances put on spotlight to invoke some guilty sympathy, instead ends-up being a hysterically comical riot. This is more or less true of every actor in the flick.
A promising tale told terribly and utterly without tact or class. It could have been much worse, but some disappointment is guaranteed to whoever sees it. Pity.
The genesis for this movie is an intriguing one, the selfish nature of vindictive power and the sometimes destructive effects of selfless love which is needed to counter it. In fact, at first sight, it seems as though this's the perfect kind of material for director Jayantha Chandrasiri to pour his heart out and make his audience finally believe in the fantastical sense of realistic reveries his pen seems quite keen on scripting endlessly. However, some awkward mise-en-scenes and an embarrassing enactment of an inspired song (done more to the tune of a tinsel-strewn dance number really) later, it becomes clear that the director/ writer has not only painfully over-arched his plain ambition but also that he's yet to master the art of using cinema as a compelling storytelling medium.
Chandrasiri is a good writer and his considerably gifted visual eye is a unique welcome in present Sri Lankan cinema (I still hesitate to call it quite modern in the literal sense), however as the exhausting and mired presentation of jumbled situations and dialogue almost forces itself mercilessly on the viewer act upon act, it becomes quite clear that the director is still actually believing that he's directing his writing solely for the stage keen on getting a thrilling (and pathetically undeserved in this case anyhow) reaction from a live audience, and not on delivering a disciplined and immersive cinematic experience a person sitting their butts-off in front of a film hall for one and a half hours is fully expected to have.
Having a sense of the dramatic and even the eccentric in their work is by no means a bad thing in a filmmaker, in fact in the case of Chandrasiri, it's one of his strongest traits. But this movie is proof that making a connection between an abstract conceptual evocation and visceral cinematic storytelling is one which should not be played-on lightly, and one which certainly should never be attempted by pure zealous ego and arrogance alone.
The main character of the story, Thisara is a an embodiment of that unjustified vigor with which Chandrasiri tries to balance-out and deliver his poorly constructed story beats with what he thinks as an intricately developed, highly relatable representation of a thoughtful and well-rounded idea. The results are absolutely tasteless to such a degree that you don't even have to convince yourself to stop caring about the situations and the elaborate backstory Chandarasiri tries to force-feed the audience by the end of the first-act alone.
Talking about the main characters though, the acting department in the film is a wonder-house of talent sadly underutilized and unjustly conformed only to dictating the weightless lines in this lackluster script. Kamal Addaraarachchi is an actor who has a well-deserved reputation of making his audience truly believe in the characters he plays, and he tries here, he really does. The character of Gregory Mahadikaram is another example where the script fails the character. It's such a regurgitating and pathetic attempt at a horrendous caricature that even the actor, Anthony does not seem to know what he's supposed to be doing throughout his incongruous and pitiful performance. Bungling costume choices and well-meaning but nearly nauseating production design does not help matters any bit either.
Two things elevate this unfortunate freak-show beyond the level of utter general mass-market fare however (which's not saying much at all, yes). One is the measured, inviting cinematography by Ruwan Costa. The other more significant one is Premasiri Kemadasa's gorgeous, outstandingly rich score. Kemadasa is arguably the best and most versatile and accomplished Sri Lankan composer in its history even without considering his film contributions. For Chandarsiri, he prefers delivering lively, bombastic scores filled with raw accentual tones and engaging motifs accompanied by the occasional melodic song and he doesn't disappoint here.
Kemadasas's music is evocative, intoxicating and utterly beautiful that it seems such a waste to be spent entirely on serving its not so inspiring and chaotic visual cues on screen. The layered main theme in particular conveys the main ideology behind the story far more effectively than any of the pasty dialogue ever can. Chandrasiri is well aware of the maestro's power in his films and boy does he use them to their full extent, something which he seems rightfully pleased with. The full score itself of course is far from Kemadasa's best, but considering what fluff he had to work with visually, he's delivered something so purely authentic which even he wouldn't have expected possible getting into the project.
Perhaps the most alarming concern here though is how much of a personal yet hopelessly petty political statement Chandrasiri is willing to make within a story that shouldn't have any space for political correctness in the first place. Whatever he was trying to speak-out through the frames of this unfocused jargon is however unfortunately, completely lost within its own self. This is a huge blunder for Chandrasiri who fortunately seems to have learned a thing or two about cinematic storytelling since its release. There's an interesting story here, shame we never got to see it.
Chandrasiri is a good writer and his considerably gifted visual eye is a unique welcome in present Sri Lankan cinema (I still hesitate to call it quite modern in the literal sense), however as the exhausting and mired presentation of jumbled situations and dialogue almost forces itself mercilessly on the viewer act upon act, it becomes quite clear that the director is still actually believing that he's directing his writing solely for the stage keen on getting a thrilling (and pathetically undeserved in this case anyhow) reaction from a live audience, and not on delivering a disciplined and immersive cinematic experience a person sitting their butts-off in front of a film hall for one and a half hours is fully expected to have.
Having a sense of the dramatic and even the eccentric in their work is by no means a bad thing in a filmmaker, in fact in the case of Chandrasiri, it's one of his strongest traits. But this movie is proof that making a connection between an abstract conceptual evocation and visceral cinematic storytelling is one which should not be played-on lightly, and one which certainly should never be attempted by pure zealous ego and arrogance alone.
The main character of the story, Thisara is a an embodiment of that unjustified vigor with which Chandrasiri tries to balance-out and deliver his poorly constructed story beats with what he thinks as an intricately developed, highly relatable representation of a thoughtful and well-rounded idea. The results are absolutely tasteless to such a degree that you don't even have to convince yourself to stop caring about the situations and the elaborate backstory Chandarasiri tries to force-feed the audience by the end of the first-act alone.
Talking about the main characters though, the acting department in the film is a wonder-house of talent sadly underutilized and unjustly conformed only to dictating the weightless lines in this lackluster script. Kamal Addaraarachchi is an actor who has a well-deserved reputation of making his audience truly believe in the characters he plays, and he tries here, he really does. The character of Gregory Mahadikaram is another example where the script fails the character. It's such a regurgitating and pathetic attempt at a horrendous caricature that even the actor, Anthony does not seem to know what he's supposed to be doing throughout his incongruous and pitiful performance. Bungling costume choices and well-meaning but nearly nauseating production design does not help matters any bit either.
Two things elevate this unfortunate freak-show beyond the level of utter general mass-market fare however (which's not saying much at all, yes). One is the measured, inviting cinematography by Ruwan Costa. The other more significant one is Premasiri Kemadasa's gorgeous, outstandingly rich score. Kemadasa is arguably the best and most versatile and accomplished Sri Lankan composer in its history even without considering his film contributions. For Chandarsiri, he prefers delivering lively, bombastic scores filled with raw accentual tones and engaging motifs accompanied by the occasional melodic song and he doesn't disappoint here.
Kemadasas's music is evocative, intoxicating and utterly beautiful that it seems such a waste to be spent entirely on serving its not so inspiring and chaotic visual cues on screen. The layered main theme in particular conveys the main ideology behind the story far more effectively than any of the pasty dialogue ever can. Chandrasiri is well aware of the maestro's power in his films and boy does he use them to their full extent, something which he seems rightfully pleased with. The full score itself of course is far from Kemadasa's best, but considering what fluff he had to work with visually, he's delivered something so purely authentic which even he wouldn't have expected possible getting into the project.
Perhaps the most alarming concern here though is how much of a personal yet hopelessly petty political statement Chandrasiri is willing to make within a story that shouldn't have any space for political correctness in the first place. Whatever he was trying to speak-out through the frames of this unfocused jargon is however unfortunately, completely lost within its own self. This is a huge blunder for Chandrasiri who fortunately seems to have learned a thing or two about cinematic storytelling since its release. There's an interesting story here, shame we never got to see it.