The film traces the stint of Jagannathan in the US, where he is invited to oversee the election campaign for a governor candidate.
evokes images of those mementos given away to chief guests at low-key functions. Most often, the presents look similar, a dull, uninteresting statuette or a bust, the byproduct of corrupt artwork. Everyone is so tiringly familiar to these gifts that nobody cares about them, not even the guest.
is like one of those exhibits Arun Vaidyanthan offers to an actor he seems obsessed with. His adoration for Mohanlal has boiled over to such a point that every frame in this film unveils a man who would never be tired of cheering for his star or riffling through his past glories again and again. Even the soundtrack to the opening titles is composed of audio clips from old hits of Mohanlal. He then stuffs sequences with shreds of hit songs, which he recreates with a portly hero and different girls.
The character he creates for his adorable star is a complete man, whose every cell brims with intelligence, every stride reflects brilliance and every words are glittering gems, which mean ready made solutions to knotty puzzles. Jagannathan, the lead played by Mohanlal, is more like a politician or rather an adviser to politicians. He is assigned to devise a campaign for governor election in the US along with his side-kicks (Baburaj and Aju Varghese). At the onset itself, the director proclaims a warning that logic has to be switched off along with mobile phones.
Such temporary dislocation of logic is perfectly justifiable, provided there is a joviality to the narrative, a life that could easily make viewers stash away their logic somewhere. In his exhibition of adoration for Lal, Arun ends up churning out sheer drabness, wherein a venerable actor is made to look like a senseless, pompous person imperiously proud of his hare-brained schemes. In the film made by a fanboy director, Mohanlal attempts to reinvent liveliness but lets himself to be drowned in silliness. It's as though he is innovating new ways to fashion expressions of stardom, without shedding blood, flexing muscles or crumpling his shirts. The series of trifles include putting on a superman costume with a Malayalam font or manipulating the election machinery of a foreign country overnight or draping an American flag for dhoti.
The attempt at political satire in this film is feeble, mindless and boring. It's more like a mask over disfigurement, for there is hardly any scope for satire in a narrative riddled with superfluous acts of a star who has begun to show signs of insecurity.