Vignesh Madhu

Biju Menon has a peculiar penchant for humour. After starting with serious, mostly villainous roles, the actor reinvented himself in the 2010s, mainly with his flair for comedy. Marykkundoru Kunjaadu, Seniors, Ordinary, Vellimoonga, Kunjiramayanam, Padayottam, Rakshadhikari Baiju Oppu… the actor was on quite a roll before he applied the brakes — either to avoid repetition or evade typecasting. In the last few years, he has largely stayed away from such roles, yet again focusing on intense roles, which he was always good at. That is why Avaraachan and Sons comes as a whiff of fresh air, beautifully balancing the veteran’s strengths. It has Biju Menon operating largely in his delightful ‘Maamachan zone’, but with much more emotional heft. As the titular character Avaraachan, Biju Menon is the anchor to this rocky boat that braves a few dips before reaching shore smoothly.

An accidental death occurs. The body has to be disposed of. Every trace of evidence has to be erased. The investigators have to be outsmarted. The truth has to be concealed forever. No, we are not talking about Drishyam here. But such has been the impact. It’s a benchmark in such thriller narratives, and lately there has been a surge in different iterations of this crime-cover-up trope in many languages. Maa Behen (Hindi), Kuttram Purindhavan and Blast (Tamil), Mohiniyattam (Malayalam)… On the surface, Pradhama Drishtya Kuttakkar (PDK) has a similar premise. Something ghastly happens, and this time around, the duel is between cops themselves. Four low-ranked ordinary cops vs a veteran officer with an unblemished track record. The result is a gripping police procedural thriller that’s cleverly written, packed with tension and twists, and never takes the audience for granted.

I’m Game is essentially the story of two men. On one hand (pun intended), we have Dan John (Dulquer Salmaan), a compulsive gambler, and on the other, Vicky (Antony Varghese Pepe), a passionate cricketer. It so happens that their lives get ‘accidentally’ intertwined by a sheer twist of fate, leading to plenty of confusion, drama, realisation and eventually, resolution. Nahas Hidhayath’s story may not be entirely fresh, with many films in the past, including in Malayalam, exploring similar territories, but the material is still pulpy enough for a commercial potboiler. If you think of it, the director’s debut, RDX, a smashing hit, also had a generic storyline, but the execution was right on the money for an action-heavy entertainer. With I’m Game, the young filmmaker aims really big. Bigger stars, better production values, broader themes, but the ambitious vision is spoilt by some mediocre writing and shoddy execution, resulting in a mishmash of a genre hybrid film that’s stuck somewhere between a promising body-horror thriller and a template revenge drama.

There’s beauty in simplicity, and director Girish AD swears by this. He cherry-picks simple, relatable stories and grounds them firmly with reasonable conflicts and well-etched characters. It’s essentially why his works breathe beyond superficial entertainment. With Bethlehem Kudumba Unit (BKU), the director repeats the same success formula and, as expected, reaps the same charm. Why fix what isn’t broken? In our cinema, it’s not uncommon to see actors with a big age gap playing romantic leads. But even in films that acknowledge this age gap, they don’t mention the difference. But here’s a film that wears this tricky detail on its sleeve. When Ashley (Mamitha Baiju) falls in love with her neighbour Justin (Nivin Pauly), who is around 12-13 years older, the film treats it very uncinematically. There’s awkwardness, apprehension, and of course, affection.

It’s disappointing, or rather disheartening, to see films that are promising enough to be game-changers succumb to the ‘second half curse’ that’s been plaguing our mainstream cinema for a while now. i, Nobody is the latest entrant to this unfortunate club of films that take off to soaring heights only to come crashing down by the end. But on a positive note, this is not a film that runs out of ideas; it’s pregnant with potential even when the wheels start coming off. It simply crumbles under the weight of its ambitions.

Ananthan Kaadu begins with an extensive sequence of mass violence, much like writer Murali Gopy’s previous film L2: Empuraan. If Empuraan opened with disturbing visuals inspired by the Godhra riots, the lens this time turns towards the brutality inflicted on Tamil civilians during the Sri Lankan Civil War. The camera shows little restraint as helpless people, including children, are lined up and shot at point-blank range, women are assaulted, and makeshift homes are set ablaze. Among the victims is the protagonist’s mother.

Balan is an unusual ode to motherhood. The mother at its centre is nothing like the women we are accustomed to seeing in our cinema — she is neither an all-giving angel nor a noble soul overflowing with love and compassion. Instead, she is grim, reticent, wily and manipulative. Yet, she remains a remarkable mother on her own terms, and that is perhaps her only real identity.

What makes Georgekutty a fascinating character and a fan favourite? He’s an ordinary man with only a fourth-standard education, employing all his wits to outsmart the state’s entire police force for years with one objective — protecting his family at any cost. This ‘anything for family’ thread continues to be the backbone of the Drishyam franchise. The first two parts saw Georgekutty operating at the peak of his powers — devising ingenious plans to build an alibi, waiting patiently for years with backup strategies, and constantly anticipating what would come next. But at what cost?