Prince has lapses in logic that are larger than some of the potholes peppering Chennai streets right now, post the corporation’s work on the storm water drains. Actually, if you find anything that remotely makes sense in the film, it is most likely accidental. In a school somewhere in Puducherry, Anbu (Sivakarthikeyan) and Jessica (Maria Ryaboshapka) teach history and English, respectively. Jessica is British and lives in Puducherry’s French Colony. Anbu is the grandson of a Tamil freedom fighter or so his father Ulaganathan, played by a Sathyaraj leaning hard into his comedic chops, keeps telling anyone who will listen.
When Jessica and Anbu fall in love, Ulaganathan, portrayed so far as a ‘progressive’ father, has a meltdown. Because Jessica is British and not French as he’d assumed. Ulaganathan is okay with the French, “Karl Marx veetulaiye ponnu edhutha maadhiri” (It’s like we found a bride from Karl Marx’s own household). Marx was born in Prussia’s Trier (present-day Germany), but facts be damned.
Ulaganathan rails at his son about British colonisation in a sequence that you struggle to believe is not parody. Prince is set in and around Puducherry town — you know, that former French colony? The French colonisers were hardly less guilty of brutality. But, like I said, history, facts, logic none of that matter to the film. Not even to the protagonist Anbu, who you will recall teaches history. Unfortunately, Prince’s entire premise revolves around Ulaganathan’s very specific dislike of only the British. Granted they stayed the longest of all the European colonisers, but for a film that takes pains to set up its story in Puducherry, the premise leaves you wondering at the filmmaker’s blissful lack of irony.
This is Telugu director Anudeep KV’s first foray into Kollywood. His and SK’s, as Sivakarthikeyan is popularly known, attempt at romantic comedy leaves you feeling second-hand embarrassment for them at the cringeworthy romance. The comedy works best, and only rarely so, when SK relies on self-deprecating humour and in turning Tamil cinema formula moments on their head. The Big Fight in Prince makes fun of the ‘mass’ sequences the industry’s heroes usually get. The slapstick comedy scene with a hilariously outnumbered SK offers overdue bursts of laughter. Similarly, the grand monologues that stars tend to give at the end of the film has a particularly SKesque delivery that recalls his early days as a stand-up comedian rather than a conventional Kollywood hero.
Also, the little quips about SK’s capabilities as a lyricist, such as the nonsense lines he wrote for ‘Arabic Kuthu’ from Beast, remind you that the actor is comfortable making fun of himself.
There’s not much else that can be said in favour of Prince. Sathyaraj’s screen presence, particularly in what is supposed to be a quirky role, falls flat in utter disservice to the talented actor. Though his father-son pairing works well with SK and they are able to play off each other’s comic timing, the poorly written script undoes this collaboration. Even cameos by Anand Babu and Soori barely contribute to the tone or comedy in the film.
Maria’s painfully exaggerated accent (whether her own or dubbed, it’s hard to tell) when speaking Tamil and her objectification as the aspirational partner in an industry obsessed with light-skinned women more or less summarises her part in the film. Like most Kollywood heroines, Jessica is a wide-eyed, two-dimensional female lead, with the only difference being that she is white. She delivers on the grating cutesiness expected of her. It’s difficult beyond this to credit or fault the acting of someone playing such a poorly written character. The actor also looks completely ill-at-ease in the kind of dance moves demanded of heroines in Indian cinema.
Music director Thaman’s songs, with the majority of the lyrics penned by SK, certainly don’t contribute much towards making anyone want to break out into dance. Rather, tracks like ‘Bimbilikki Pilapi’, ‘Jessica’ and ‘Who am I’ have you wistfully eyeing the nearest exit.
SK and Anudeep, in this unappealing mess of a film, make passing attempts to comment on the ideas of patriotism vs being branded anti-national. But so shallow is the effort, with care taken only to ensure no offence is given to the Hindu-right who actually throw those words around, the commentary has zero social impact.
Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the film's producers or any other members of its cast and crew.