DeAr, starring GV Prakash Kumar and Aishwarya Rajesh, becomes a victim of half-baked characters and arcs, and the film leaves you with an unsatisfied aftertaste
Last Updated: 02.09 PM, Apr 11, 2024
Arjun (GV Prakash) wants to achieve greatness as a newsreader and is a light sleeper who wakes up even to the sound of a pin drop. Meanwhile, we are also introduced to Deepika (Aishwarya Rajesh), whose snoring issue has caused havoc in her life. DeAr follows the marital life of these two individuals who get married to each other unbeknownst to each other’s nature. There is also a man of the house, Arjun’s elder brother Saravanan (Kaali Venkat), his submissive wife Kalpana (Nandhini), and their mother Lakshmi (Rohini). On the other hand, there is Rangarajan (Ilavarasu) and his wife (Geetha Kailasam), who are Deepika’s parents.
I like to begin with one particular scene from DeAr. At a crucial juncture in their marital life, when Arjun and Deepika are in the middle of life choices that can change the course of their lives, Deepika is strongly advised by her mother to oblige instead of exercising her rights. Rangarajan, in a nonchalant way, disapproves of this, as he is ready to face a conservative society for his daughter. This leaves the mother in tears, so he casually goes on to comfort the mother, leaving his daughter aside.
Something about this scene is quite comforting and cathartic to watch: a father who doesn’t go all guns blazing to proclaim his modernity yet understands the two generations. And I want to take enough time to talk about this scene and Rangarajan’s character because it seems that is the only thing that was right in DeAr.
DeAr had lost the first-mover’s advantage after it shared the premise with the 2023 film Good Night. But the film had much scope when it reversed the gender, with the women at the source of the issue. Even though one might think that it might provide much fodder for the concept, DeAr loses track and is unable to tap into its potential. Instead, the film takes an immature dig at the concept of feminism time and again. When Arjun’s friend learns of Deepika’s snoring, he involuntarily asks, “Do women snore?”
The question not only proves to be childish under the garb of talking about feminism, but it also looks far more welcoming until you hear a character diss the concept of equality by giving an example of how a feminist character calls someone named Kumar as Kumari. This is not the only issue in the film. In fact, there are a plethora of them, including how to introduce the conflict and stage it.
There is something about films that source their drama from small conflicts and build it up to make it an engaging story. Unfortunately, DeAr does not engage. We are given a brief explanation about why Arjun became a light sleeper. But a little more into it early on would have helped connect with the character, given there are no surprises in the pre-climax.
DeAr is also a film that is filled with a number of characters with their own natures and mannerisms. For example, Saravanan, being the breadwinner of the family, is the poster boy for patriarchy. He orders his wife to massage his head while ignoring all her questions and queries. And by the rulebook of cinema, to have him redeemed at the end comes as no surprise. But what is the use of the apology when he orders his wife to first massage him before saying sorry?
DeAr is a victim of half-baked characters and arcs. The film leaves you with an unsatisfied aftertaste. The tonal shift in the second half also makes you wonder if Deepika’s snoring was indeed an issue all this time or the film’s inconsistent persistence to make its flimsy characters come out strong.
DeAr is touted to be a romantic comedy drama, entwining two families filled with several characters. However, it becomes a dreary watch and becomes a photo album that tries to capture happy moments before they turn sour after the woman takes the burden to solve the unresolved trauma in her man. The point becomes such a big deal in the second half that I wonder if Deepika’s snoring was ever a problem or just a plot push to highlight the issues of the leading man. Was all the hungama about snoring needed and couldn’t be solved with the mere use of earplugs and sleeping pills?
DeAr fails to tap into the uniqueness of the premise that builds on the idea of women snoring. And the idea of a woman doing something that isn’t considered ladylike. Perhaps, the film never wanted to address it.