If a Freudian analysis of the writer-director of 'Abbai Class Ammayi Mass' has to be made, one would surely see him as a lover of rich hotel suits, booze, sexy women, and the haughtiness of the rich. That's why he deals the story with so much insensitivity and forgetfulness that he doesn't realize the mind-numbing slips (borne out of the mindset problem) that he makes at crucial turns.
What are the odds in favour of a young entrepreneur, who trembles at the thought of standing near a mild-mannered/soft-spoken girl, visiting a brothel to cherry-pick a damsel and agreeing to live with a tough-looking prostitute in his palatial house for 10 days? And as if there is no other option available, he nervously and fearfully prevents his friend (Srinivas Reddy) from sending her back, lest he may never acquire the guts to marry Anjali (Ahuti Prasad's daughter). You don't need a psychologist to tell that the easiest way to kill his aversion for women would have been to make him talk and spend time with the one he is going to marry. (After all, a call girl can only evoke tension, not interest in such a guy). The director's failure to realize the need for coming up with a strong justification probably stems from his overpowering tendency for objectification of women.
Next we come to booze. Unable to bear his frustration with his incapacity to speak before the ladies in the business meeting (and this comes in the second half; so you can imagine the sluggish pace of the movie), the always-nervous hero guzzles peg after peg that night, cursing his jejamma (Sri Lakshmi) for making a waste fellow of him. This act of the hero has no iota of connection with his characterization or the story. It is just there because a stay in Goa would be incomplete without the Telugu cinema hero drinking beer.
In another scene meant to show Varun Sandesh IMPRESSING the angel in his life, we see the hero hurl an insult at a 'gumastha' of an apparel store. Yes, he only pays back in the same coin, but heroes in our cinema have to be sensitive in teaching the lesson, not look brash.
But these are nothing when compared to the bombardment that comes somewhere in the middle of the second half. After a 'gyan' session by Neeru the prostitute, whose life-changing words woefully celebrate the virtue of looking at girls as sex objects and thinking of everything in life like a businessman thinks of transactions through the prism of customer satisfaction, we see a new Varun from thereafter, displaying a humanly impossible confidence to deal with the species of which he has been phobic since childhood. He grows so unimaginably debonair that he breaks into an impromptu dance with a seductress at his friend's bachelor's party! What a script!
The screenplay is a textbook case of crassness. Despite having a heroine like Hari Priya who is as oomphalicious as the yesteryear screen diva Rambha, the director felt the need for an item song by using the bachelor's party as an excuse. There is so much titillation and unoriginal double entendre in the film that there was hardly a need for a sub-standard item song, that too at a point where the film should have become serious.
There is a crime element involving Kashi Vishwanath and an unseen man and it is dealt shoddily. Showing the paunchy and extra-weighty Vishwanath as having neither commonsense (he spoils his plan by shooting Varun in a ludicrous manner) nor the capability to run fast as a killer employed by a big shot is laughable.
There are three dream sequences in the first half. Three, it must be said, is not a big number considering the long time that our hero takes to outgrow his fear of women. From slightly frightening Varun with her seductive 'Rajaa..', Neeru even unconsciously makes him fear being raped by her. Kudos to the director's idea of empowering women!
Thus, the crucial turns mentioned above were almost conceived like a joke.
What is an icing on the rotten cake is someone who killed an MLA and his aide serving ordinary imprisonment for 1 year, looking completely fit and, yes, ambivalently ready to sleep for Rs. 5000, which the prostitute with rules, principles and sensitivities, rejects as a tribute to the memories of the Man.
Jejamma's investigative journalism saves the hero, who is not seen saying a single line to Ahuti Prasad or the daughter after Jejamma's revelation.
This one is easily Varun Sandesh's worst ever performance. He is totally at a loss to enact the role because of the director. His body language, even when not a girl is around, doesn't reflect the thinking of an achiever who was recently featured on a business magazine. There is so much of college boy hangover in him that he looks almost confused.
What makes us sit through ACAM is Hari Priya, Srinivasa Reddy and the double-meaning dialogue. Hari Priya delivers the role with aplomb, though she is seen seductively pursing her lips for most part.
The music is eminently forgettable.
The dialogue pass the muster.
Verdict: The poor script and a bad acting output by Varun Sandesh spoil the show. Neeru shines in her part and makes an impact.