Honor among thieves

(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.