We have seen wives be evasive around their husbands when they break the news of their upcoming pregnancy since the days of black and white. There are the shy eyes, the reserved manner, and phrases like the direct “There is a new entrant coming to the family” or the veiled “Now, I have to eat for two people” before smiling and embracing. The sassy Sicily tells her husband Avaran, “Bring me the liver of the wild boar you are going to hunt,” in Aashiq Abu’s crazily amusing Rifle Club. I’ve heard pregnant women benefit from it. The world that Syam Pushkaran, Dileesh Karunakaran, and Suhas built is home to characters like these. Characters who might seem like a weapon-wielding Addams Family to the rest of the world, but within their self-sufficient existence, this is the normal.
The first instance of violence in the movie occurs when Dayanand, played by Anurag Kashyap, a notorious guns dealer and Mangalore-based pub owner, gets hurt while resolving an automatic rifle case. On the other hand, a group of Rifle Club members playing clay shooting is the first indication that someone is shooting. The contrasts between these two universes, where one group’s violence is premeditated and the other is spontaneous, have a lovely undercurrent of comedy. After a fierce gunfight, Senna Hegde’s character Dayanand declares, “They are not normal people.”
Actually, none of the movie’s characters are “normal.” Because she is, in her own words, “the best shooter” in the club, would an elderly mother pack off her grandchildren before the fight and remain behind? Would a distraught father, dressed only in a yellow jacket and boxers, enter a shootout exposing his paunch? Would two sister-in-laws enter this unusual family, argue over shooting the same assailants, and then beg each other to choose a different target? Because we all like badass characters, the Rifle Club’s literature makes sure that we virtually root for these characters and believe in their quirks.
There are a lot of badass people in Rifle Club, which is basically a lengthy shootout that takes up more than an hour of the film’s around 100 minutes. However, it begins with a club song and dance routine that concludes with a kick, a slap, and a disturbed trash can. You can tell a specific window would be involved because of Aashiq’s framing, but the way it ends is crucial. Similar situations occur throughout the movie, and there’s also a fascinating aside about a romantic hero who wants to become an action star but first wants to learn how to wield a rifle. The ultimate punchline is what surprises us the most, even if there is a redemptive narrative waiting for the hero to achieve his potential.
Rifle Club is just Varathan on steroids, and it’s a good thing the team didn’t depend on a superstar to take centre stage. Every character is as diverse as they are explosive, and every ascent comes with an effective surprise when the “expectations” are tossed out the window. Bravo to the actors who realised that Rifle Club is about the group hurrah rather than individual glory. Naturally, Dileesh Pothan and Anurag Kashyap play the more prominent roles, but each and every character around these accomplished filmmakers-turned-actors gets their opportunity to shine, and they do so with the dazzling brilliance of a flash grenade. Vani Vishwanath reminds the world that the bravery of the hands that hold a weapon defines it, not the gender of the wielder. In addition to Dileesh’s penchant for one-liners with multiple meanings, my favourite part of the movie is how the “vault,” which has rare collections and weapons from the British and Tipu Sultan’s eras, is used. Payoffs from even the tiniest moments are generally beneficial, though they aren’t always the best.
The movie is classified as a Wild Wild Westerner because it takes place at a club deep in the woods in the Western Ghats, which is virtually lawless but isn’t made public. This eliminates the need to consider logic and the law and fully immerses us in the events without considering outside influences. The characters’ pzazz and brutality are stylised thanks to Aashiq Abu’s efforts behind the camera and Rex Vijayan’s hallucinogenic music. The close combat shooting scenes, which are expertly staged to make sure we are completely aware of the blasting splinters of wood from the cabins, the breaking glass shards, and the splattering of blood, perfectly counterbalance the setting’s expansiveness. The fact that none of this gory violence ever crosses the line into the grotesque is what truly worked for the Rifle Club. Despite the mayhem all around, the discussions keep things light and airy.
There aren’t any particularly noteworthy performances in Rifle Club, and it’s not because the actors weren’t good enough; rather, the director controlled everything. All actors, with the exception of Anurag and Hanumankind, are not required to give spectacular or showy performances. If these actors’ calibrated caricature is a hoot, then the Rifle Club members’ subtleties are just as effective. The cast, which includes Vani Vishwanath, Darshana Rajendran, Surabhi Lakshmi, Unnimaya Prasad, Suresh Krishna, Vineeth Kumar, Senna Hegde, Vishnu Agasthuya, and Vijayaraghavan, is likely among the most stable actors in Malayalam cinema today. They let themselves be the simple pieces of a simple puzzle that Aashiq and company have put together. And it becomes evident that there are just two rules for this Rifle Club when everything is put together and the finished frame looks like a horrific Renaissance picture.
