Drama in real life is always on mute

Certain events in life can legitimately be labelled Drama with a capital D: weddings, births, accidents, terminal illness, divorce, death. Then there are the subplots. They creep in through the backdoor, silent as mice. Look how quietly Bennifer is back – Jennifer Lopez is singing private duets with ex-fiancé Ben Affleck after Alex Rodriguez becomes her latest ex-fiance. And actress Jennifer Aniston just said – in the context of Friends reunion and their guest stars – ‘Mr Pitt was wonderful, fantastic.’ What next, an invite to their second wedding? Twists in tales don't always carry cymbals.

Of course, with Covid playing the largest dramatis personae in the world and taking over as a villain cum monster cum screen-hogger, everything else is just D minor. Heartbreaks, betrayals, being passed over for promotion, staying on in crap marriages… These are complications that can be sorted out, hopefully, by and by. But, as the latest Malayalam films show, a murder or two – if one can get away with it and if viewers agree that the victim was scum – can be clubbed in the latter category. If Drishyam, both part one and two, openly celebrated the hero (who would have been villain if not played by Mohanlal) getting away with a major crime, Aarkkariyam (Who Knows) couches the main act amid pressure cooker whistles and property sale.

This new film, directed and co-written by Sanu John, runs in slow motion. The pace, the scenes, the camerawork. And the characters don’t talk, they mumble. What Parvathy says only Parvathy knows. Which was problematic throughout the film, but especially so in the very last scene where one gets the sense she is mouthing something pertinent to the plot. The hero’s eyes go round again, bam, so even Malayalees must click on the subtitle option to hear what he heard.

Perhaps the point the movie makes is precisely that – IRL sees a lot of silent observations, some muttering and ‘okay, what’s for lunch?’ The first time one feels an appetite after someone close dies, the food is accompanied by guilt, for living, for eating, for going on, etc. But we all know that given time, broken hearts mend, we get used to that framed photo of the dearly departed, the empty nest chirps again with the clacking of keyboards. There is no background score, we just put things in perspective and nod to ourselves. Garble rules the day.