There are two ways to make a movie about a large-scale disaster. One is to reduce the scale, like Lakshmy Ramakrishnan did in the exquisitely moving and understated House Owner. The story revolves around the 2015 Chennai floods, but it remains an intimate narrative about just one couple, played by character actors. By focusing on a tiny part, you get a sense of the whole. The other approach is seen in Aashiq Abu's superbly written, superbly crafted medical thriller Virus, where a galaxy of stars come together to battle the Nipah virus. Jude Anthany Joseph's 2018: Everyone is a Hero follows the Virus model, and here, a galaxy of stars come together to tackle the devastating Kerala floods. But unlike the former film, the director and his co-writer Akhil P Dharmajan go for the broad strokes, with dashes of hysterical melodrama. 2018 does not rise to the levels of Virus, but on its own, it is a solid account of a tragic time.
One of the aspects that bothered me about the writing is the constant attempt to over-manipulate the audience. The flood is in itself a hugely affecting source of drama, something that binds us instantly to the characters. And with this huge cast, you instantly wonder – like in the Hollywood disaster movies – who will live and who will die, which becomes an additional source of drama. But clearly, it is not enough. It is not enough that a woman is in trouble – it has to be a heavily pregnant woman. It is not enough that a little boy is in trouble – it has to be a boy with Down's Syndrome. It is not enough that an older man is in trouble – he also has to be blind. This is the kind of movie where you know that the minute a fisherman's son looks at his father's profession with contempt, he is going to turn into a full-on fisherman by the end. And the minute a truck driver is shown as not spending time with his family, we are going to end up with the loving call he makes to his mother and little daughter.
But all of this is not a huge deal-breaker because, as a title card tells us at the beginning: "Every calamity is just news until it hits us." And in both Tamil Nadu and Kerala, it hit us hard. At one point I wondered why we are so drawn to a story of suffering that we just experienced in real life. Why do we want to relive those horrible memories? Why do we want to see the 9/11 terror attack recreated? I don't know – but two visuals in 2018 nudged me towards a possible answer. One was the image of a big-ass, wall-mounted flat-screen TV whose base hovers over a rapidly increasing water level. I think these films remind us of impermanence, that however much we have, it can all go away in an instant. The second image is that of a birthday celebration, even as the mayhem begins. There's also the assurance that life does go on.
2018 begins with little scene- and character-setting events, where we meet everyone. I liked the touches like the Indrans character tuning his radio to an old Yesudas song. It may be a cliche, but it says something about the man and instantly makes him a familiar figure we want to root for. And I liked the way the screenplay keeps mixing moods. For instance, we get a tense stretch with fishermen at sea facing a huge ship, and also a nascent love story with comic moments, and also a clueless Polish couple who have chosen the worst possible time for a visit to God's Own Country, and also a dramatic stretch involving sibling rivalry. I could have lived without the artificially amped-up drama like the bits about a bomb consignment or a cobra or a train accident – but hey, I did say we are dealing with broad strokes here.
The film's title says "Everyone is a hero", though apparently, some heroes are bigger than others. Tovino Thomas gets the most fully fleshed-out character, and even a love interest – and later, he gets to do the biggest saving acts. He is both a star and a character actor here. In contrast, Kunchacko Boban gets the least to do. As the Home Secretary, he is stuck inside a room with his colleagues. Vineeth Sreenivasan is also used mainly for his empathetic presence – both these actors have faces we instantly warm up to (which is why, random thought alert, it would be great to see them play a serial killer or some such embodiment of evil). Asif Ali, Lal, Narain, Kalaiyarasan – all get a moment or two to shine, but it's a bit of a pity that none of the women characters, with the exception of the reporter played by Aparna Balamurali, get much to do. The awesome Pauly Valsan is introduced as a police officer and reduced to a matchmaker. Just for variety in the drama, it would have been nice to see a few female heroes, too.
But the end result is a film with many affecting sights. 2018 could have been so much better, but it's impossible not to be moved by the sight of an aged woman being lowered into a makeshift boat – basically, a tub-like thing. There are many tragic reminders like this. There is a big death at the end, which should have had a bigger impact. In Virus, we felt for everyone, both the affected and the people fighting to save them – and given the nature of the two films, I think comparing them is a valid exercise. But 2018 is more logistically complicated. The visual effects, the sound effects are well done and we almost feel drenched by the time we leave the theatre. I guess I had mixed feelings about the movie itself, but as a document of our times, it's a solid monument to a tragedy that took place in one particular area, but really cuts across borders and makes us think about the bigger picture of life.