If there is a proof that the life of a film critic isn't easy, than that must be sitting through Mysskin's “Psycho” and trying to make sense out of it. With 134 minutes running time, that's a lot of sitting involving a tremendous effort to resist the temptation of writing to the editor-in-chief that the dog had eaten up your computer and you therefore couldn't possibly finish the job even if you soooo much loved to.
Mysskin believes his film to be a fitting tribute to Alfred Hitchcock. “Psycho” even opens with a quote by the American psychologist Abraham Maslow that “we are simultaniously gods and worms”. Since the psychology applied in the movie's plot produces a series of question marks that can't be answered neither by relying on common sense or science, this quote means absolutely nothing, as it could be replaced just by any other. If I could vote for an adequate substitute, that would be “42.”
It's all screams and terror after those opening credits, with some decently done scenes of torture and killing performed by a stone-faced serial killer, who is very dedicated to sharp tools and decapitation. He is a handsome guy, something that will be addressed later on in the film (and he sure is), albeit one can't help wonder if his naked behind, gloriously shown in a couple of “he's-going-oh-so-nuts” moments isn't digitally altered. If not, we have a new candidate for Mr. Marble Ass of streamland!
On the scale of ‘what the hecks' it is not the representation of the killer (Rajkumar Pitchumani) that hits the highest score, although we haven't touched the Christian ground he's walking on yet (spoiler alert!). Our hero and the guy who saves the day is a rich, blind man Gauthaman (Udhayanidhi Stalin) who has such an unhelthy obsession with a radio moderator Dagini (Aditi Rao Hydari) that he stalks her in the worst possible way helped by his right hand/ best friend Rajanayakam (Singam Puli). The way his derangement is romanticized is indescribably wrong, but hey – we all went through that in “Love Actually” which 17 years after still haunts us. I mean, what's wrong with falling for a delusional man who puts a GPS on your car and crashes your friend's wedding! It's basically every girl's dream, right after sexual harassment.
Gauthaman pulls all the creepy tricks up his sleeve to get the woman of his life to fall for him, which she obviously doesn't (initially) do, for all the sane reasons. Stranger things happen in real life than not wanting a stalker breathing down your neck and reciting slimey love poetry into your ear in public spaces, not to forget declaring his undying love by singing a cheezy ballad at the aforementioned wedding. But according to Mysskin's vision, the latter is exactly what does it, should you had any doubts.
When Dagini gets abducted by the crazy killer, Gauthaman is on his tail. The way he does it will make your eyes roll so many times, that you'll fear they might detach from the sockets. Udhayanidhi Stalin is performing like he's never seen a blind person in his life. His posture and the impossibly aggressive way he's swinging the cane, the smoothness with which he can walk the straight line, all of it is so delightfully wrong. Gauthamaneven drives his Mini Morris by being given simple instructions: “left, right, straight ahead.” I noted this down in my diary as a potential argument after failing the driving test, filed under “HowdoyameanIfailedwhen…”
Additionally, he is not someone you can actually call a likeable person. When Mysskin decided to shape his character, he for some reason opted to make Gauthaman as annoying, terrible, selfish and irresponsible as possible. He is someone who slaps a quadriplegic wheelchair-bound self-chosen member of his investigation team Kamala (Nithya Menen) in the face because she dared say something that hurt his ego, and which is sadly meant to show the deepness of his love for Dagini. He tells his best friend to go and die (he eventually does, that's what friends are for) and he also has a bit of the Napoleonic nature, talking about himself in the third person when communicating with the police. A charmer. Where do they grow? Asking for a friend…
Not counting the actual crimes which are depicted with chilling precision, the script is very flawed. The dialogues are built on old-fashioned rethoric leaning on backward retorts and allegedly funny lines, going against the rule that the only way a horror can go funny is when it's its aim. Even less funny, or to be precise – incomprehensible is the response of Dagini, as the witness of stomach-churning killings, who frees the killer and then defends him in public as a poor orphan who had no one: “In the fragile eyes of that child I could see a lot of unhealed wounds.” Which isn't a response you'd have after seeing people being beheaded during the course of one week.
Despite of so much wrong in “Psycho”, it would be unjust to overlook the undeniable quality of Tanveer Mir's cinematography, the original score by Ilayaraja and the impressive set design.
