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Release
date:
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Kerala: May 4, Delhi: May 18, 2018
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Director:
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Lijo Jose
Pellissery
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Cast:
Language:
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Chemban Vinod
Jose, Vinayakan, Pouly Valsan, Dileesh Pothan, Kainakiri Thankaraj, Arya
K.S., Krishna Padmakumar
Malayalam
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For a city kid,
there is nothing more amusing or revelatory about rural life than a death in
the family, complete with rituals, ritualistic wailing and more. Growing up in
Delhi as I did, my earliest education in the way country folk react to the
demise of an acquaintance or relative came with the loss of my beloved
grandfather who was in Kerala at the time. I can never forget the bawling and
chest-beating by a particular household help called Pathumma who, while no
doubt fond of the man we all called Appachan, seemed to be moved to hollering
out weird weepy tributes only in the first few minutes of the arrival of each
fresh batch of guests paying their respects to him, relapsing magically into
normalcy and even laughter immediately after. I watched goggle-eyed and
listened as an entire mountainside reverberated with shrieks of “ Ende
Appacho, the last time you spoke to me you asked me for biryani, but I did
not make it. Now when will I ever get a chance to cook for youuuuuu?” etc etc.
My late aunt could
summon up similar bouts of yelping and crying with every new visitor to her
home for months after the loss of her husband.
Memories of
Pathumma and my aunt came flooding back as I watched Lijo Jose Pellissery’s Ee.Ma.Yau.
written by P.F. Mathews, the story of an impoverished man who promises his
father impressive last rites just minutes before the old chap passes away. It
would be easy to adopt a lampooning tone in such a tale, but Pellissery and
Mathews are never patronising or reductive in their portrayal of characters and
circumstances here. The result is a delightful slice of reality among a small
community in a coastal village in Kerala and an unexpected overview of larger
existential questions.
Chemban Vinod Jose
plays Eeshi, son of the elderly alcoholic Vavachan (Kainakiri Thankaraj) who is
in the habit of disappearing from home for long stretches of time. We realise
there is more to his disappearances than eccentricity when, upon his latest
return, we learn that his daughter-in-law Sabeth, short for Elizabeth (Arya
K.S.), intends to spike his food with something she expects will keep him in
check.
Vavachan’s wife
Pennamma (Pouly Valsan) approves of the plan. Eeshi’s younger sister Nisa,
short for Agnes (Krishna Padmakumar), is too wrapped up in a clandestine love
affair to notice what they are up to.
When Vavachan
collapses in the middle of a drinking and dancing session with Eeshi, his death
sets off a chain of occurrences that offer a highly entertaining, sobering
study of the community.
Ee.Ma.Yau. (short for Eesho
Mariyam Yauseppe a.k.a. Jesus, Mary and Joseph) is a prayer for and a
salutation to the dying and the dead used by certain sections of Malayali
Christians. With this choice of title, Pellissery has once and for all shown
that he was genuinely indifferent to the ludicrous review of his otherwise
widely acclaimed Angamaly Diaries (2017) by a Malayalam TV channel
believed to be close to the RSS, in which the critic objected to what he
considered a surfeit of Christian imagery albeit in a film with a Christian
leading man.
Angamaly Diaries created waves
nationwide, revealing to cinephiles outside Kerala what viewers within the
state already knew: that Pellissery is an acute observer of human behaviour.
The director brings the same quality to Ee.Ma.Yau., offering viewers a
satirical take on Eeshi’s funeral preps without ever allowing the comedy to
descend into insensitivity even when people around him do.
Actor Chemban Vinod
Jose, who made a smashing writing debut with Angamaly Diaries, displays
his acting versatility as Eeshi here. His deadpan heartbreak at his father’s
sudden death is vastly removed from his villainous turn in the recent Swathanthriyam Ardharathriyil, or his
menacing, spine-chilling appearance as a vengeful, lustful creep in 2016’s Kali.
Other familiar
faces in the cast include Vinayakan as Eeshi’s fond friend and Dileesh Pothan
as the local priest with a proclivity for crime sagas. Both are
characteristically excellent.
The rest of the
cast are not stars, but they, like the established names, act as if they are
real people written into a film script and being shot without their knowledge.
Pouly Valsan as Eeshi’s mother comes up with a delicious take on a woman forced
by social expectations to publicly, vociferously mourn an unfaithful spouse and
using the opportunity to vent some steam.
Constantly present
in the background are two unidentified characters who nonchalantly play cards
and chat while mayhem unfolds around them, a metaphorical representation of the
unending cycle of life and death in the village.
The other witness
to the unstoppability of nature is Shyju Khalid’s camera which appears
unconstrained although the action in Ee.Ma.Yau.
revolves largely around Vavachan’s lifeless body. Khalid’s cinematography makes
the film’s locales a pulsating presence in the plot. From that spectacular
opening shot of an extravagant funeral procession on a pristine beach
accompanying the credits, to the more unassuming, everyday frames within and
outside the dead man’s home, to two particularly luscious shots of coconut palm
tops swaying in the breeze, Khalid swings seamlessly from the lavish to the
modest, aided by Deepu Joseph’s slick editing shorn of unnecessary flourishes.
Together they ensure that we are aware of the beauty of the surroundings
without ever allowing their glorious grandeur to overwhelm the emotional core
of Ee.Ma.Yau.
Prashant Pillai’s
music is sparingly employed but supremely effective when it is. Renganaath
Ravee’s sound design is rich in detail though understated, especially in the
use of rain as yet another reminder of the constancy of nature irrespective of
the games humans play.
The technical
polish in Ee.Ma.Yau. serves its
purpose by enabling some great storytelling. By finding laughter in morbid
situations and social commentary in the unlikeliest of places, in the tradition
of other fine funeral films, Pellissery fashions Ee.Ma.Yau. into a keenly observant, fabulously funny insight into
the politics, economics and theatrics around death.
Rating
(out of five stars): ****
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CBFC Rating (India):
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U
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Running time:
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120 minutes
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This review has also been published on Firstpost:
Poster
courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/eemayau.movie/
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