Pravinkoodu Shappu
(Malayalam)
With rain beating relentlessly against the windows and the wind whistling through the door cracks, a death in a small-time toddy shop in Kerala is bound to shock the characters out of intoxication. Except, it doesn’t. A smart police officer who can read an accused through his body language is expected to solve the crime in 10 days. Except that he doesn’t. Pravinkoodu Shappu might seem like a whodunit based on an Agatha Christie novel, except that it isn’t.
Sreeraj Sreenivasan arrives in style with his first feature film Pravinkoodu Shappu, a paradoxical glass house that throws stones at conventional filmmaking while making smart use of the template. Malayalam cinema is known for engaging thrillers that explore the anatomy of a crime. But Pravinkoodu Shappu distances itself from the scene of the crime to a large extent and looks at the gaze that constructs such crime stories straight in the eye.
The dialogues are laden with absurdities. It gives a hat tip to Quentin Tarantino–a police officer drinking milk, one-liners that feel out of place, and making sleaze look cool. It also borrows some of the complex philosophies from Christopher Nolan’s The Prestige but manages to keep it light-hearted.
Director of Photography Shyju Khalid isolates the toddy shop and gives it a life of its own–it used to be a place where loners, lovebirds, friends, and family celebrated life amid its mundanity before the death happened. Vishnu Vijay’s music creates a rhythm that silences the noise of the world outside to emphasise the importance of a safe space.
If these deceptive techniques are not enough, Basil Joseph plays the role of a cunning police officer who can murder someone and still attract empathy. Soubin Shahir, who plays the role of a worker at the toddy shop, feels like an extension of Saji from Kumbalangi Nights. Chemban Vinod’s ruggedness compliments them so well that it enables the premise to explore gender issues through the male gaze. A conversation between two men on toxic masculinity is as bizarre as it is hilarious. Chandini Sreedharan, who plays the role of Soubin’s wife, brings rage to the screen in such a manner that it is impossible to mistake it for coyness.
Bankrolled by Anwar Rasheed, Pravinkoodu Shappu also feels like a film that teases its crowd by using the word ‘magic’ multiple times. It's reminiscent of the quote from The Usual Suspects– ‘the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was to convince the world that he does not exist’. To search for it would seem futile as the film finds cinematic value in its most ordinary moments.
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.