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Release date:
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September 1, 2017
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Director:
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Althaf Salim
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Cast:
Language:
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Nivin Pauly, Shanthi Krishna,
Lal, Ahaana Krishna, Srinda Arhaan, Siju Wilson, Krishna Shankar, Saiju
Kurup, Sharafudheen, Aishwarya Lekshmi, Dileesh Pothan
Malayalam
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The promo line for
this film should have been, “expect the unexpected.” Because nothing, not a
trailer, not even a review filled to the brim with spoilers, can prepare you
for what it has to offer.
Of the three Onam
releases I have watched so far – Pullikkaran Staraa, Velipadinte Pusthakam and
now this – Njandukalude Nattil Oridavela is
head and shoulders above the rest.
I confess to having
felt a fleeting flutter of trepidation when, in the opening minutes, one of the
film’s protagonists announces that she might be suffering from a serious
disease. It is already clear by then that Njandukalude
Nattil Oridavela
is designed as a comedy. Would it continue in the same vein? The question on my
mind at that moment was: How can you possibly make
a comedy centred around such a grave health issue without turning offensive?
Ask writer-director
Althaf Salim, because that is precisely what he does.
Njandukalude
Nattil Oridavela (An
Interval in the Land of Crabs) revolves around the
Chacko family formerly based in Kuwait and now back home. They are: Mum Sheela
Chacko (played by Shanthi Krishna) and Dad Chacko (Lal), their elder daughter Mary
(Srinda Arhaan) and son-in-law Tony (Siju Wilson) who have a child, their
London-based son Kurien Chacko (Nivin Pauly) who is single and clearly anxious
to mingle, their youngest, Sarah (played by Ahaana Krishna), who is surreptitiously
dating a friend, plus an
ailing grandfather.
The Chackos are well-off and, to
all appearances, leading a relatively undramatic life. They are going about the
business of living when their humdrum existence is interrupted by Mum’s medical
scare.
Should they artificially rev up
their energy levels to keep her spirits up? Would it be supportive to
acknowledge her tension and their own, or for her sake should they pretend to
be unaffected? How do they cope with their own fears while simultaneously having
her back? Is there such a thing as a right thing to say when someone you love is
dealing with an intense personal trauma? Would being peppy around her make
things worse or better for her? In such a situation, should life, work, romance
and plans come to a standstill? If they do not, does that make us selfish?
These are concerns most human
beings have grappled with at some point. There are no definitive answers, but
in the Chackos’ hits and misses you might find a reflection of your own
struggles, and perhaps a realisation that sensitivity and consideration are
perennial works in progress.
I will not say more about the
plot, though if I did, it would not amount to playing spoilsport, because as is
always the case but more than ever in this case, it is the treatment not the
story that counts.
Blending humour with such a grim
subject and sustaining it without being odious for even a moment is a feat by
any standards. It is particularly noteworthy in Althaf Salim’s case because he
does the tricky job with a self-assurance that belies his lack of experience.
Salim makes his directorial debut
with this project. He has co-written it with George Kora. Malayalam film buffs
already know him as an actor, of course, since he starred in Nivin Pauly’s 2015
superhit Premam and played the young
Comrade Krishna Kumar’s sidekick in this year’s Pauly-starrer Sakhavu.
In terms of tone and tenor, Njandukalude Nattil Oridavela is on the
same plane as 2017’s Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum starring Fahadh Faasil and Nimisha Sajayan. In terms of filmmaking sensibility and
talent, Salim is in the same league as the likes of Anwar Rasheed,
Anjali Menon, Dileesh Pothan (who made Thondimuthalum
and last year’s Maheshinte Prathikaaram)
and Lijo Jose Pellissery, who have all earned stupendous box-office success
with artistically experimental, unconventionally commercial ventures, marking a
Malayalam New Wave of sorts in recent years.
The only predictable moment in
this film comes in the form of a self-referential joke about Premam that can be seen approaching from
a mile. The only awkwardness in the writing comes from the romance between
Kurien and Rachel (Aishwarya Lekshmi). Their maiden encounter feels contrived
and has obvious pretensions to coolth, while the games she seems to be playing
with him in one scene are a cliché. The latter is a disappointing reminder of
the suspicion with which so many Malayalam film writers view potential female
lovers – the traitorous woman and the tease are staples for them, and Salim, it
turns out, is no different.
One of Salim’s many achievements
with Njandukalude Nattil Oridavela is
that though Pauly is the marquee name in the credits, his character is only a
kinda sorta ‘hero’ here. The remaining members of Kurien’s family are all given
importance, with Mum being the fulcrum of the proceedings. Pauly must be lauded
for not ruining the film by pushing himself forward at the expense of the
others. With his star clout, and considering that he is the producer, he could
well have done so. Hats off to him too for spotting the potential in this material.
Pauly clearly has a good instinct
for scripts. The surprise I felt on watching this film reminded me of my
response to Action Hero Biju: I went
in assuming it would be a fight fest, what I got was A Day In The Life Of A Sincere
Policeman. Again, “expect the unexpected.”
It is also interesting to note
Pauly’s seeming self-awareness, evident in the couple of jibes a friend throws
at Kurien for his expanding girth. I do not want to indulge in body shaming
here, but since cinema is an audio-visual medium, and since this fine actor’s
prettiness is an additional source of considerable pleasure in his films, I do
hope he does not repeat the mistakes of seniors like Mohanlal and Jayaram by
letting himself go as they did.
Njandukalude
Nattil Oridavela marks the return of Shanthi Krishna to the screen after almost
two decades. She is spot-on as the gutsy Sheela who finds herself supporting
her family even as she seeks their support in dealing with her physical and
emotional turmoil.
Ms Krishna and the rest of the
cast deliver such believable performances, that they come across as a real
family that has lived through this hell, rather than a team assembled to
present a fiction.
Do not go looking for melodrama,
or over-stated twists and turns. The story is told as if cameras have been
placed in the Chacko home during a trying phase and we are watching their natural
reactions to the curve balls life throws at them. What truly makes Njandukalude credible is that the
Chackos are a regular, flawed family – they take each other for granted, some
of them are self-centred, some cowardly, some more brave than the others, and
with all this, they have fun together and they clearly love each other to
kingdom come.
The film has been shot in such a
manner that at some point, my hesitation about the choice of treatment for this
theme gave way to such a level of immersion in the story, that without
realising it, I found myself seated with the Chackos, sharing their feelings,
their fears and their worries, even experiencing an occasional pang of guilt
when I caught myself laughing at their quirks despite the potential tragedy
unfolding in their homes.
Njandukalude
Nattil Oridavela’s deceptive veneer of simplicity is its
great strength. It is so sublime and so unexpectedly funny, that I was taken aback
when I ended up choking back tears in those final moments. What a pleasantly
unusual film.
Rating
(out of five stars): ***1/2
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CBFC Rating (India):
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U
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Running time:
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131 minutes
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This
review has also been published on Firstpost:
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