I didn't go into Ratheesh Balakrishnan Poduval's new movie expecting to laugh at, in one peculiar scene, how he briefly makes our vantage point that of a man in a wheelchair. What's funny here is when he pans to the left or right, we also hear the squeak of his wheelchair, and this goes on for a few minutes until I was laughing so hard my belly hurt. It's this unique brand of eccentric humour that Ratheesh won audiences over in his debut feature, Android Kunjappan. As he continued to do this through all of his subsequent films, there were times when it didn't always work. Some found Kanakam Kamini Kalaham unbearable, while some dug all of it. I belong to the latter camp. His humour is right up my alley.
In Nna Thaan Case Kodu, he managed to strike the perfect balance with every creative choice he took -- an effort with near-unanimous acclaim, a return to form. The awards that followed only proved it. So when he announced a spin-off to it, I pondered the relevance. What can he do with the backstory of the two supporting characters that made a strong, memorable impression in that film? Would audiences accept something sans big star names, notwithstanding the Kunchacko Boban cameo? Of course, content is king, but would the excess quirkiness in it prove too much?
This spin-off, Sureshinteyum Sumalathayudeyum Hridayahariyaya Pranayakatha (The Heartening Love Story of Suresh and Sumalatha), is a little... extra, just like its title. That daring mirrors Ratheesh's experimentation with the film's concept, even if every element doesn't make for a cohesive whole. Who knew you could create a spin-off of another story and make it dance to a completely different tune? How far can you take your imagination? Ratheesh messes with logic; he bends time and space. He makes Suresh and Sumalatha's (Rajesh Madhavan and Chithra Nair are undoubtedly endearing) story play out in three time periods. It's among the film's strangest and most jarring storytelling choices.
Is it time travel? Not exactly. One assumes it's Ratheesh's way of saying that no matter what era, we'll keep seeing different versions of the same story. The story moves linearly, but not all in the same era. Parts of it occur in the 60s, 80s, and today. The colour tone, makeup, and production design (with all the props) change accordingly. This is a first, at least in Malayalam cinema. But it's also not the most sensible choice, considering every viewer won't be able to grasp its frequency the way the maker intended it. Because even for me, it was jarring to an extent until I managed to get used to it. It's akin to taking a thick rubber band stretched to the max, broken, and the process gets repeated with a new one.
When does it break? Every time we get a song and dance, or a character like the one played by Jinu Joseph (a man who needs 12 idlis for breakfast) or when one important character dresses up as Santa Claus and beats the shit out of Sudheesh. But the song-and-dance routines... none of them worked for me. Here's the main problem. When we are supposed to care about the titular lovers, isn't it weird when you find the supporting characters, each with their own behavioural quirks and sub-plots, more interesting than them? And what about the emotional connection? Or the inconsistent Taj Mahal symbolism?
This is a film that gets distracted too often. Now, I don't mind shifting the attention to its background players because their shenanigans are hilarious -- and given Ratheesh's penchant for creating memorable traits for all his characters, regardless of screen time, his films are never boring. However, I cringed several times, too, for which I have the songs to blame. The same goes for Suresh's idea of coming up with a play, a confusing writing choice. Why use a play as an excuse to romance your girlfriend when Nna Thaan Case Kodu already established that they are a couple? This film makes it seem like they are meeting for the first time. And since we already know that Kozhummal Rajeevan (Kunchacko Boban) will show up at some point, the timeline of events is also perplexing.
But, as I mentioned earlier, I didn't find this film boring because there are enough amusingly inventive scenarios to keep one occupied. Take the scene of Sumalatha extending a soap-lathered hand when Suresh finds none to clean his hands with. Then there's a father-son conflict in the form of a theatre actor named 'MT' (the name conceals possibilities for laughs) whose wife and son have issues with his behaviour. Or what about the old lady who just got an eye operation done and gets into an autorickshaw named after the song 'Aayiram kannumaayi' (With a thousand eyes)? Also, for reasons unbeknownst to the audiences, all these characters occasionally break into English. At one point, the characters break into a Michael Jackson dance when an older woman says, "All I want to say is they don't really care about us."
Ratheesh also manages to sneak in, among other things, caste politics and social commentary, but these decisions seem more forced than organic. We also get some region-specific humour and character inspirations that not everyone will get. I'm sure it all makes sense in the filmmaker's head, but one can't rule out the possibility of some viewers scratching their heads.