Ithiri Neram (Malayalam)
Maybe someone with a more romantic inclination might find some redeeming grace in Ithiri Neram. Maybe they will understand the ill-advised longing to see one’s former partner and might like the melancholic background score that follows every glance of the leading pair. They might even feel sorrow over the lost love as the credits roll. Unfortunately, this reviewer is not one.
The only sorrow I felt as I left the theatre was in anticipation of the very difficult task of writing this review. What does one write about a movie that aimlessly travels over 150 kilometres in the course of a single night, with all that is getting done throughout being chugging alcohol and smoking cigarettes.
Ithiri Neram, directed by Prashant Vijay, written by Vishak Shakti, and starring Roshan Mathew and Zarin Shihab, dives head first into the murky waters of ex reunions, and gets lost in its weak plot and lazy script. Bear with me while I give you some background info in the hopes of earning your sympathies. Spoilers ahead, be warned.
Roshan Mathew’s Anish is a star anchor of a YouTube channel, and hosts a show called ‘Ithiri Neram,’ where he interviews people of ‘intellectual substance’. When the movie opens, Anish is interviewing rationalist Maitreyan, who talks about the ‘stifling nature of the institutions of marriage and family’. Foreshadowing much?
The next day, Anish is hosting the baptism of his newborn, but he has something else to attend to before that. This Christian man leaves the house, entrusting his Hindu wife to deal with annoying uncles and aunties from both families on the eve of his child’s baptism. It is made all too clear to us that neither families were in support of their interfaith marriage, and tensions are likely to break out. So it must be something earth shattering that is making him step out that evening. If only that were the case.
Anish is headed out for a night of drinking with two of his colleagues, as he has long owed them dinner and drinks. Nice timing. Anish says he had to choose that night as work was just about to get busy from the next day on. Yeah, of course.
On his way, his phone rings, and who could that be but his college sweetheart Anjana (Zarin Shihab) who he hasn’t talked to since eight years. Even better timing.
Anish proposes a quick meeting, and as they walk to a tea shop nearby, literal (well not literal, but just let me indulge) cats and dogs rain down. The best timed downpour in the history of rains. And what might magically appear in front of them as they look for a place to wait the rain out? A bar.
What follows is most predictable, and criminally dragged-out. One drink becomes two, old wounds are opened as the former lovers break ice once again, the dimlit bar is exited, only for them to head to a rooftop bar where I lost track of the drinks despite trying to do anything at all to keep me hooked to the film.
Longing looks, missed yous, fingers brushing, shared cigarettes—all of it to show us that the two still have feelings for each other. Halfway through the movie, one of them throws up and passes out. Then the other has to get through the night trying to avoid getting caught with an unconscious person by families or the police, both the moral and the other kind. A lot of driving around follows. You know how it is going to end, but you still sit through the film because you suffer from a hopeless case of optimism.
Had the film got us to believe that what Anish and Anjana had in college was rare and beautiful and strong, the film would have made some sense to us. But despite the very loud gestures, the ‘love’ fails to convince, as we are given little idea about the time they were a couple. Yes we know Palayam market is the only place in the entirety of Thiruvananthapuram where the two did not make out during their college years. That’s pretty much all we are given to believe that they were each other’s one true love.
The film romanticises infidelity, and yet somehow manages to conform and preserve age-old institutions. Sounds confusing? Same.
Maitreyan’s words about ‘stifling marriages’ are recalled, but only the man seems to have the luxury to even feel the need to break away. His unsuspecting wife, the marriage to whom Anish says was ‘replacement therapy’ for him, stays home and manages the family. It is very hard to ignore the fact that Anish is a moron.
The film had a couple of jokes that landed, and many that didn’t. A lot of time was spent on telling us that one of Anish’s colleagues suffers from gut issues—he downs half a kilo of bananas to help with the digestion. I earnestly expected the film to end with explosive diarrhea as it was well past morning by then. Also, what was the point of the token interfaith marriage?
Actors Nandhu and Anand Manmadhan, who played Anish’s colleagues Rajan and Chanchal, did justice to their roles. That unfortunately can not be said about Roshan and Zarin, but you have to acknowledge that there wasn’t much for them to work with.
When Tamil director C Prem Kumar told the story of Ram and Janu’s reunion in 96, it resonated with a large audience. But repurposing the reunion trope doesn’t work for Ithiri Neram, no matter how hard it tries.
Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the film’s producers or any other members of its cast and crew.