Film: Munnariyippu
Director: Venu
Cast: Mammotty,
Aparna Gopinath
A person, innocent or otherwise, stepping out after long years of incarceration throws open several interesting possibilities on how he reacts to or fits into a changed world.
In ‘Shawshank Redemption’, perhaps one of the greatest prison dramas ever, Brooks, a septuagenarian side character, commits suicide because ‘the world got itself in a big damn hurry’ during the time he spent inside.
In ‘Munnariyippu’, C.K. Raghavan (Mammootty), serving time for a double murder, keeps repeating ‘I have not killed anyone’ but still chooses the ‘freedom’ provided by the prison cell, even after his sentence is over.
That is until the arrival of Anjali Arakkal (Aparna Gopinath), a freelance journalist, who sees in him a career-making story and a potential book deal.
Raghavan spouts reductive philosophy and maintains a calm demeanour, which does not give away the faintest of hints about his back-story. Anjali gets him released and virtually locks him up in an apartment to make him write his biography.
Anjali’s dogged persuasion to get what she wants and Raghavan’s evasiveness builds slowly into a gripping climax. The character could easily have gone the way of ‘Ben Narendran’ from ‘Artham’, which is what most of the audience expected.
With the script not ceding an inch into his past life, except for a chance encounter with an elderly couple, the audience is forced to find meanings in his facial expressions and rare one-liners. Nothing is served on a platter and one needs to cook, chew hard, and eat. But whatever needed to be told arrives as a quick topping in the end and then one relives the two hours that passed and sees everything in a new light.
Minimalism is one thing which is maintained all through, be it the sparse settings or the script shorn of dramatics.
There is a return to the good old cinematography, where the frames are not bathed in artificial light. Also, for a change, we get to see more of the mysterious Raghavan than the ever familiar Mammootty. For most parts, he is marked by a silence adorned with half a smile. Aparna carries off Anjali’s transition from a circumspect reporter to one who demands Raghavan to do her bidding commendably. One negative though is a cameo by one of the young stars, which looked quite pointless to the plot.
‘Munnariyippu’, with its skeletal approach, delivers a thumping jolt to the viewer and reclaims the actor who was lost in the jungle of superstardom. One ends up wishing for a little more detail in places but at the same time it looks like holding everything back worked in the end.
It is a sign that cinema will survive the “300-crore” madness.
S.R. Praveen
