(pic courtesy: Manorama Online)
ThOndimuthalum Dhriksaakshiyum, Dileesh Pothan’s second film
and collaboration with Shyam Pushkaran, could not begin at a more appropriate
place than the outskirts of Vaikkom. For no other recent filmmaker has come to
embody the simple, yet rich humanism of Vaikkom Muhammad Basheer in his
filmmaking than Dileesh Pothan. Every character that redeems himself or herself in
the eyes of the audience does so because they eschew the power or safety of the
systems and ties that bind them in favor of empathy. But we’ll get back that at
a later point – let’s focus on the filmmaking for a bit.
Shortly after beginning in the verdant Thavanakkadavu,
ThoNdimuthalum shifts to the hinterlands of the Kerala – Karnataka border. In
and of itself this is an interesting choice for two reasons. The Malabar coast
and its picturesque locales have traditionally been a stand in for the Kerala
Karnataka border. But Dileesh clearly moves away from the coast into more arid
territory – signaling a departure both from the usual choice of locale and from
the lush photography that dominated Dileesh’s first outing Maheshinte
Prathikaaram. The screen is filled with sepia or shiny black – both from the
rocks that pepper the terrain or from the solar panels built atop them. The
tone and color of everything we see serves as a constant reminder of how
parched both the earth and the people are. But Rajeev Ravi reminds us that this
milieu choice is in no way limiting in terms of capturing outstanding
images – in particular a housefly hovering over a blade of glass
(a scatological shot but stunning nevertheless) and a timelapse-type shot of night
turning into dawn over an ‘ulsavapparambu’.
Apart from those flourishes however, the editing, music, and
mise-en-scene rarely step out of the confines of the small world that Shyam
Pushkaran, Sajeev Pazhoor and Dileesh create. And I use the word small purely
as a spatial descriptor – in no way is its ambition or the reflection of the
present day challenges of the region where the story is set 'small'. Consider if you
will the party names that are fading away on the walls of the bus stop (not the
typical Marxist symbols one would have seen in the past in the region) as A.S.I
Chandran stops for a breather when chasing after the thief that has stolen the
leading lady’s necklace or the color of the dhotis of the troublemakers at the
temple festival. Consider how the economy of the locality which
would typically be driven by the visitors to the temple (especially during the
festival season) seems to be driven by the police station instead which seems
to be positioned at a vantage point across the temple grounds. Even in this simple
world filled with simple people driven by simple motivations (when a cop
laughingly asks the thief if he swallowed the stolen chain because he was
hungry he wryly responds “isn’t hunger ultimately responsible for everything?”)
the entropy of it all infiltrates ThoNdimuthalum with a richness beyond compare. The
actors portraying those simple motivations are all first rate - not just the Dileesh
regulars (if one can say that for a 2 film director) like Fahadh or Alencier
Lopez (as ASI Chandran) but also the new faces like Nimisha Sajayan (as Sreeja
the leading lady) or Sibi Thomas (as SI Sajan) and some older yet unrecognized
faces like Vettukili Prakash (as Sreeja’s father). Fahadh in particular is
magnificent in action and word – exemplified by his introduction scene where he
executes the chain theft followed by the scene where he describes the act with great
relish. He plays the hitherto nameless thief as a puckish vector injecting the humanity
Basheer infused into his stories into the lives of everyone he touches in the
film.
Ultimately, a steadfast perspective on where humanity’s
salvation lies is what elevates ThoNdimuthalum above any other films I’ve seen
in the recent past. Humanity has always tried to build systems in an effort to
work together, build community and achieve common goals. But all systems we
build tend to have the same failing – they accrue power and in the end tend to
redirect the human resources they’ve acquired into the sustenance of that power
rather than serve the originally intentioned goals. Sreeja and Prasad in some
ways are caught between the two such systems – caste and the law. Caste was not
created so parents cause their daughter physical injury or disown her. And yet
this and much worse continues to happen in our society – so when it happens to
Sreeja it does not seem that far fetched. The Law was created to protect and
serve innocents like Prasad and Sreeja. And yet, it is they who bear the
economic and physical costs of ‘investigating’ the theft of which they were a
victim. The film also recognizes that the system is not a monolith – it is
after all made up of humans too. And using A.S.I Chandran as a stand in, we get
to see how those that are inextricably a part of the system can redeem
themselves too – by appealing to the humanity of the people they are to serve
rather than by manipulating them. Laden with irony and quippy dialogs
ThoNdimuthalum delivers such weighty considerations with an utter lack of
self-consciousness that makes it extremely endearing. It will linger in your
imaginations long after you’ve left the darkness of the screening room behind.
