Star sons are an unenviable lot. It is not just that they have to create a reputation for themselves. But also, they have to live up to their father's. The burden on somebody like Vishnu, son of Mohan Babu, is understandable.
The young lad was under tremendous pressure even otherwise as his debut venture had flopped. In a sense, Suryam was to decide whether he has the staying power to make a comeback.
But Suryam as a film is a disappointment to beat all disappointments. From start to finish, the hero keeps fighting, fighting and fighting. What about story? Well, who needs one? Both the director Samudra and the producer Mohan Babu have obviously not felt the need for one.
Whatever that can be called story is something that is straight out of a schizophrenic's nightmare.
Suryam (Vishnu) is a young lad whose avocation in life is to accept other's crime and go to jail. Of course, he does it for money. But why does he do it? Well, he loses his mother and uncle to electrical shock. But to support his uncle daughter's (Veda) education, he takes upon himself the crime committed by an inspector's son.
From then on, prison gates become a revolving door for him. Then enters Madhulatha (Celina Jaitley) in his life. He accepts a crime on her behalf. And she is quick to spot the kind heart in him. So they fall in love. The hitch, however, is his politico father (Mukesh Rishi).
So plenty of fights ensue. More blood flow. More glasses and window panes are broken. Just as you feel like crying enough is enough, the film ends and you come out with a aching head and a sobbing heart. What a waste!
Vishnu is obviously energetic and enthusiastic. But that alone is not enough to save this tame and mindless masala. The fights are just over done. The comedy is downright daft and sometimes crosses the boundary of decency.
None of the main cast is good in histrionics. Vishnu goes over the top, Celina is plain inadequate. Only Veda comes across as acceptable in a film that is peopled with cardboard characters.
If the acting is loud, then the music (of Chakri) is louder. Only the stunt scenes (by Peter Heynes) pass muster (but it crosses the limit and the camera tricks quickly wear you down).
Samudra, as the director, is nowhere to be seen.
The film has no shine at all.