Ad filmmaker Jayendra's directorial debut '180' that stars Siddharth, Priya Anand and Nithya Menon in the lead roles is one of the much-awaited movies this season due to many reasons.
This bilingual movie marks Siddharth's comeback to Kollywood after almost seven years.
Balasubramaniem is the cinematographer and Sharreth Vasudevan has composed the music. Umarji Anuradha has written the dialogues and Vanamaali has written the lyrics.
The production values are brilliant, Balasubramaniem's camera-work is spotless, Sharreth's music is easy on the ears while V Selvakumar's artwork is all cool -- shapes, high-rise apartments and quaint Chennai homes.
Siddharth is much the same he's been in many movies before this; playing the cheerful guy who has secrets up his sleeve is a cakewalk for him. He's one of those actors who can carry off the role of the urban male convincingly, and he follows the pattern.
Priya Anand is sweet, sympathetic, but doesn't quite manage to pull it off during the angst sections. Part of it is her attire: she actually wears towering heels and perfectly coordinated dresses during the most sorrowful moments!
Nithya Menen gives her excellent competition with her own sweet, unsullied looks. She actually manages to carry her viewers with her, despite the faltering Tamil accent.
180 is two and a half hours of emotional torture that is so brutally assaultive in its determination to extort sympathy from viewers that it practically leaps off the screen and into their laps in order to get to it.
This film is completely contrived and uneven; by the end we are screaming to yank our eyes and ears away from all that overtly dramatic music, glycerin tears, the super sensitive subject choice and the crushing lack of sensibility. Siddharth’s heartfelt performance and the exquisite cinematography can't redeem the dramatic fallacies surrounding this mess.
180 feels like there was an explosion at the sob story factory and little pieces from dozens of different films were jammed together into one dreadful mutant. The whole terminal illness melodrama attacks your chest so relentlessly, that by the time it's over you’re forced to beg for a defibrillator.
Balasubramaniem is the cinematographer and Sharreth Vasudevan has composed the music. Umarji Anuradha has written the dialogues and Vanamaali has written the lyrics.
Rediff Review
The production values are brilliant, Balasubramaniem's camera-work is spotless, Sharreth's music is easy on the ears while V Selvakumar's artwork is all cool -- shapes, high-rise apartments and quaint Chennai homes.
Siddharth is much the same he's been in many movies before this; playing the cheerful guy who has secrets up his sleeve is a cakewalk for him. He's one of those actors who can carry off the role of the urban male convincingly, and he follows the pattern.
Priya Anand is sweet, sympathetic, but doesn't quite manage to pull it off during the angst sections. Part of it is her attire: she actually wears towering heels and perfectly coordinated dresses during the most sorrowful moments!
Nithya Menen gives her excellent competition with her own sweet, unsullied looks. She actually manages to carry her viewers with her, despite the faltering Tamil accent.
DNA Review
180 is two and a half hours of emotional torture that is so brutally assaultive in its determination to extort sympathy from viewers that it practically leaps off the screen and into their laps in order to get to it.
This film is completely contrived and uneven; by the end we are screaming to yank our eyes and ears away from all that overtly dramatic music, glycerin tears, the super sensitive subject choice and the crushing lack of sensibility. Siddharth’s heartfelt performance and the exquisite cinematography can't redeem the dramatic fallacies surrounding this mess.
180 feels like there was an explosion at the sob story factory and little pieces from dozens of different films were jammed together into one dreadful mutant. The whole terminal illness melodrama attacks your chest so relentlessly, that by the time it's over you’re forced to beg for a defibrillator.
