The
action
entertainer
Marco
is
a
well
shot,
gnarly
bloodfest
that
packs
some
lackluster
thrills,
notes
Arjun
Menon.
Another
day,
another
lesser
effective
wannabe
‘Pan
Indian’
action
film
is
out
to
test
your
patience.
Marco
is
easily
the
most
awaited
event
film
from
Malayalam
cinema
in
recent
times.
Interestingly,
the
impetus
for
this
pre-release
hype
is
not
directly
proportional
to
the
track
record
of
the
filmmaker
or
the
lead
actor
but
more
a
testament
to
the
cravings
of
a
younger
film
viewing
demographic
who
revel
in
films
promising
new
depths
of
onscreen
depravity.
Marco
is
less
of
an
action
entertainer
and
more
an
aesthetically
deprived
blood
fest
that
aims
for
the
tightly
contested
spot
of
maximum
body
counts.
Haneef
Adeni
started
his
career
with
a
similarly
styled
revenge
thriller
The
Great
Father,
featuring
Mammootty.
Marco
is
cut
from
the
same
cloth
that
prioritises
sleazy
one
liners,
self
important
line
readings
and
gorgeous
high
frame
rate
images,
underlined
with
little
to
no
thought
or
intent.
Marco
continues
the
trend
in
more
brutal
ways,
and
is
a
derivative,
clumsy
revenge
saga
that
is
kept
alive
by
the
beating
heart
of
Unni
Mukundan’s
conviction
in
pulling
of
action
set
pieces.
The
film
starts
with
the
death
of
the
younger
heir
to
a
crime
family
headed
by
George
(Siddique)
and
we
get
a
peak
into
the
machinations
of
an
incoming
gang
war.
The
hero
arrives
on
screen,
ripping
apart
two
dogs
(literally!)
and
soaked
in
dog
blood
emerging
from
a
van,
proclaiming
proudly
to
the
goons
who
kidnapped
him,
‘I
am
a
dog
lover
myself.
I
have
a
husky,
his
name
is
Rocky’
and
goes
on
to
slice
an
entire
room
full
of
ruffians.
We
get
the
picture,
mate.
The
‘post
KGF
and
Animal
phenomena
of
the
gun-wielding
action
hero
is
fast
losing
any
sort
of
cultural
capital,
thanks
to
the
umpteen
tasteless
imitators
who
fail
to
understand
the
core
of
what
makes
those
films
work.
Film-makers
like
Prashant
Neel
and
Sandeep
Reddy
Vanga
have
taught
contemporary
directors
the
wrong
lessons.
The
up
and
coming
generation
of
wannabe,
hip
action
film-makers
adopt
the
easy
thrills,
without
offering
the
most
foundational
aspect
that
makes
their
work
tick:
Emotional
grounding.
All
the
action,
gore
and
bloodshed
in
the
world
won’t
make
a
difference
to
the
audiences,
if
you
don’t
give
them
that
emotional
catharsis
that
holds
the
most
bizarre
of
screenwriting
choices
in
solid
grounding.
For
instance,
in
Animal,
the
dramatic
tension
is
borne
out
of
the
complicated
relationship
between
Ranvijay
Singh
and
his
scarcely
attentive
father.
There
are
real
stakes
for
the
hero
to
prove
himself,
and
go
about
his
murderous
rampage
to
get
back
at
the
people
who
wronged
his
family.
Marco,
on
the
other
hand,
with
a
similar
setup
of
a
step
brother
out
to
take
revenge
for
the
death
of
his
sibling
is
treated
as
a
mere
exercise
in
style.
It
is
not
interested
in
the
psychology
of
what
breeds
the
sort
of
fury
that
could
drive
the
hero
down
such
a
hell
ride.
The
quirky,
unpredictable
nature
of
the
protagonist
is
limited
to
awkward
exposition
delivered
by
kids
in
the
family
intercut
with
Marco
delivering
stale
one-liners.
Unni
Mukundan
gives
the
film
his
all
and
it’s
his
committed
presence
and
agile
physicality
that
elevates
some
poorly
plotted
action
pieces.
Chandru
Selvaraj’s
camera
is
always
on
the
lookout
for
a
glossy,
exuberant
image
but
the
over
crowded,
mundane
writing
and
pacing
holds
back
the
tonal
shifts
in
his
work.
Ravi
Basrur
could
have
scored
this
film
in
his
sleep.
But
the
occasional
insert
of
the
catchy
theme
music
does
inject
some
life
into
the
proceedings.
Jagadeesh
gets
the
next
best
stylised
character
but
there
is
a
jarring
dissonance
between
his
ticks
in
character
and
his
acting
style.
Siddique
gets
to
do
nothing
except
for
an
action
block
in
the
finale
that
doesn’t
add
much.
The
female
characters
are
sorry
figures
and
outliers
in
Haneef
Adeni’s
vision
for
Marco,
so
they
become
the
symbol
of
domesticity
and
civil
society,
as
the
men
go
out
and
wreck
havoc.
There
is
a
scene
where
his
lover
confesses
to
Marco,
that
she
saw
him
as
a
‘red
flag’
and
‘toxic’
individual
from
the
very
onset.
The
bizarre
sequence
tells
you
how
much
the
film
wants
to
posture
itself
as
a
piece
of
self
aware
exercise
in
indulgence.
Marco
is
the
latest
in
a
long
list
of
films
that
make
the
horrendous
mistake
of
foregrounding
the
aesthetics
of
‘hyper
violence’
as
a
means
to
an
end.
The
end
being,
wrongful,
distasteful
distraction
from
a
premise
that
would
crumble
without
the
pretension
of
gnarly
bloodshed.
Midway
through
Marco,
there
is
an
action
set
piece,
reminiscent
of
the
‘stair
wall’
action
piece
from
the
last
instalment
of
the
John
Wick
franchise.
There
is
thought
and
serious
effort
put
into
the
one
shot
conception
of
the
action,
which
sees
our
hero
punching,
cutting
and
piercing
through
rows
of
masked
men
on
a
never-ending
flight
of
stairs
with
the
aim
of
reaching
a
captive.
However,
the
hand
held,
messy
camerawork
and
staging
of
the
visceral
fight
sequence
is
undercut
by
an
abrupt
revelation
that
undermines
the
purpose
of
the
scene
and
cuts
a
sorry
figure
of
the
hero
with
a
quick
cutaway
to
a
scene
that
shows
him
doing
the
very
thing
that
he
was
holding
back
from
doing
in
the
previous
shot,
in
an
entirely
new
setting.
It’s
this
kind
of
careless
scene
construction,
where
shock
value
is
prioritised
over
narrative
cogency
that
makes
Marco
such
a
dull
gore
fest
without
any
visceral
payoffs
for
the
amount
of
onscreen
debauchery
that
the
film-makers
indulge
in.
Marco is
definitely
not
a
total
bummer
as
the
action
choreography
keeps
it
afloat.
There
is
no
denying
the
amount
of
work
and
effort
that
goes
into
pulling
off
these
grimy,
nauseatingly
depraved
ways
to
kill
and
injure
characters
on
screen.
The
bloodbath
in
the
finale
and
the
relentless
body
count
just
numbs
you
and
you
wait
for
the
shoe
to
drop,
which
just
doesn’t
happen.
Marco
Review
Rediff
Rating:
