Member Reviews

The spark that initiates a work of art can come from anywhere. For Sivaranjini J., it came from the unusual sight of a rooster sitting inside a beauty parlour near her home in Angamaly. Victoria, her debut film which was screened at the Malayalam Cinema Today section at the 29th International Film Festival of Kerala on Saturday, is set almost entirely a beauty parlour.

While watching Pierce, the debut feature of former Singapore national fencer Nelicia Low, one would assume that the sport inspired the film, for fencing is at the very centre of the narrative which deals with brotherly affection and psychopathic tendencies. The trademark moves in the sport, which one character defines as chess played with swords, also parallels the behaviour of the characters in the film, screened in the world cinema section at the 29th International Film Festival of Kerala (IFFK) on Saturday (December 14, 2024).

Once adulthood sets in, and once we’ve accumulated enough years, most of us have two types of recurring dreams (and nightmares). One revolves around the terror of remembering that the exam is tomorrow and we haven’t touched the school syllabus. The other is shaped by the horror of finding ourselves naked in routine situations, while being totally helpless about it. Both of these are trauma responses to our fraught relationship with society. Both feature a link between social conditioning and shame, but Abhijit Muzumdar’s Body confronts the steeper task of exploring the second dream. It’s a testing watch, but ultimately quite a rewarding one.

In times when films have become social/ideological statements, it’s refreshing how Miss You still wants to be a simple story about ordinary people, everyday situations. The plot, centred on memory loss, fragility of modern-day marriages and second chances, banks on its slice-of-life treatment to see itself through. Yet, its simplicity paves the way for mediocrity due to the jaded treatment, time-tested storytelling tropes and poor music. There are flashes of Siddharth’s good-ol charm and decent performances by Ashika Ranganath and Karunakaran for intermittent relief. Miss You has its moments but is too casual and lacks conviction to be a memorable romance drama.

Devi (Soumitrisha), who only remembers the past six years of her life, gets married to Rudra Roy Burman (Indrasish Roy) — a drunkard and lecherous son of Samaresh Roy Burman (Debesh Chattopadhyay). Devi’s mysterious friend Maya (Koushani Mukherjee) — known for her ominous presence – predicts that Rudra will die the next day after their marriage. Her prediction becomes real.

Badal Majumder (Kamaleswar Mukhopadhyay) and Liyaqat’s (Joydeep Mukherjee) families harbour animosity for each other for years. Badal’s eldest son Somnath (Anujoy Chattopadhyay) and Liyaqat’s nephew pugnacious Mostaq (Anirban Bhattacharya) do not see eye to eye. However, Rana – Badal’s younger son, and Jahanara – Liyaqat’s daughter and the apple of his eye, love each other. All this drama takes place in a small town, Talma.

Why do we like Pushparaj? He doesn’t care to look conventionally attractive. His shoulders are lop-sided, his hair unkempt, his speech brimming with contempt. His work? Smuggling red sanders. His retribution? A fierce defiance of systematic oppression, making him a figure of political utility. And his manner of retribution? Ruthless. As he says, he kills “without mercy.” In this sequel, Pushpa seems almost possessed, his machete slicing through limbs as though they were branches from a tree.

You know, it sometimes feels like films don’t quite appreciate the promise of their premise as much as we do. Miss You, for instance, teases a fascinating idea: a man forgets a significant period of his life after an accident—how does this affect his love life? It’s not exactly a groundbreaking premise; memory loss is a well-worn trope. But within this framework lie rich possibilities: repercussions on relationship dynamics, explorations of vulnerability, and the bittersweet beauty of rediscovery. We see this potential, but the frustration is in the film’s failure to do so.