Great direction, acting makes Feminichi Fathima an adorable work of art

Somehow, Fathima’s very ordinary day—filled with the grind of house work and taking care of three children—keeps you hooked, if only because of the innocence and originality with which it is written and enacted. It takes not just an artist’s mind but also incredible sensitivity to portray the character of Fathima, a task that Fasil Muhammed, the writer and director, does splendidly in his debut Malayalam film, Feminichi Fathima. In the same breath, you need to mention the lead actor, Shamla Hamza, who brings Fathima to life and makes this Muslim homemaker, somewhere in north Kerala, so endearing. 

Fasil has skillfully weaved a whole story around a mattress that Fathima desperately needs, in line with films that have done wonderfully by touching on day to day affairs or seemingly inconsequential matters. For Fathima, at the juncture in the film where the story unfolds, the mattress is all that she can think about. The nights have become increasingly difficult, and her back hurts all day. Before the mattress trouble, she’d seemed resigned to the toil of cooking, cleaning, and caring for three children, losing her patience at times and rebuking them with a touch of love: “Enthanu mone!” (What is it now, son?). 

The husband, an ustad at the local madrassa who also offers prayers for healing others, is of no help, stretching Fathima’s (and the viewer’s) patience to the limits when he calls her from rooms away every evening to switch on his ceiling fan.

As he depicts the typically patriarchal household, adding an unfriendly mother-in-law to the mix, Fasil paints the husband’s character like a caricature. He delivers the usual “I-am-the-head-of-this-house” lines but neither raises his voice nor hand; there is no hint of physical abuse. Not that it makes him any holier, but it allows the storytelling to go easy on you. Fathima gives in to most of the charade but speaks her mind when she wants to—such as when she tells him off with his own words after he comes to her mattress-less bed for a “fourth child.” There is, you notice, a ‘feminichi’—a Malayalam-English term often used derogatorily for a feminist—in her, lulled within.

But Fathima is held back by the fact that she has no money of her own—no thousand rupees for a down payment on a new mattress, not even 10 rupees to give her youngest child when he pesters her for chocolate. It takes a little while for the slang—the north Kerala dialect—to settle in and for the dialogues to feel organic. But once it does, the characters truly take the reins. The husband, played by Kumar Sunil, is wonderful, making the patriarch look silly at the right moments with his body language and telling expressions. Another lovely performance comes from Viji Viswanath, who plays the neighbour Soora, Fathima’s go-to friend. Their friendship does not come with the mush or music typical of modern-day portrayals, but Soora always comes to Fathima’s aid and is perhaps the only one who takes her mattress problem seriously. 

If you pay attention, amid the bickering and patching up, you can also take note of small town relationships, especially of the women in the neighbourhood. The music in the background (Shiyad Kabeer) helps amplify the mood. Only the sub plot involving a young woman who makes it big as a social media influencer feels slightly underdeveloped, but it fits the overall storyline and provides a momentary respite. In fact, you discover ‘feminichis’ in the making in Soora, running a business and taking initiatives, in the young woman, and even in the mother-in-law who refuses to part with her savings. 

Among them all, it is Fathima to whom your heart truly goes out to, every time she has to pull, drag, and carry a weighty old mattress, only to find she cannot rest her head on it for long. Cinematographer Prince Francis’ frames capture the picture from near and far, the paths she walks and the strain on her face, making us feel the weight with her. Small wins are sometimes all you root for, and anything more—an overnight success or a lifechanging miracle—might not offer the same comfort. Fasil has clearly pinned that down in his debut work.

The film was screened at the competition section of the International Film Festival of Kerala. 

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 producers or any other members of its cast and crew.