I didn’t dare ask my mum if she wanted to continue watching the movie till that time. The lady told me I shouldn’t worry about it because she had cancer too – it’s been 9 years now – and she was enjoying the movie. And I told her that I’m second guessing my decision of bringing my mum to the movie. While waiting at the food counter, the lady who was standing next to me struck up a conversation and we were discussing the movie. How will someone, who has wiped our tears, dresses our wounds, nursed us during our dengue and typhoids and such, break the news that they are sick?ĭuring the interval, something surprising happened. When something like this happens, it’s a hard slap on the face and brings the realisation that time is catching up with them. They are always there for us, even when we are grown up and have a family of our own. So it’s not shame that makes them hestitate.
I spoke to her and said everything will be alright, went inside my room and broke down. We had the exact expressions on our faces. And when we came to know, we were stunned. My mum kept the truth from us for almost a week before she opened up. Someone in the comments asked what is the shame in telling the kids about cancer. I could relate to each and every scene because my mum is a cancer survivor too. Again, we could have had heavy background music and a “messagey” tone - but I prefer the conversational tone here.Įven though I had the review before watching the movie, I didn’t realise how hard it would hit me. The same scene could have been played as a tragedy with violins in the background and a close-up to the mother’s face brimming with tears, but here it’s understated - and I must say I prefer this approach.Īnother gem of a serious layer: When the mother says no one in her family has had cancer, and her husband says yes, but there have been two heart attacks and one rheumatism. Any subject can be treated in any way, and it’s so refreshing to see someone make light of a situation like this.Īnd if you look at it, underneath the light tone, there ARE serious layers - like how, even if we know someone is unwell, we expect them to do things for us (laundry, making chai) and make a face when it doesn’t happen. While we’ve ranted about misogyny in so many older Malayalam movies, these newer movies show how refreshing, entertaining movies can be made realistically, without contrived machismo.Ību6246: don’t you think over here that a serious subject has been treated lightly.Īnd I think that is EXACTLY why this film works. I feel so much respect and affection towards Nivin Pauly for playing his character in this way. It’s about using your clout to get a certain kind of movie made. I am so glad the jokes were not lost in translation.īut like Fahadh Faasil in Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum, he puts himself in service of the story. This definition of star power we find only in the young stars of Malayalam cinema. Even the death scene in the movie had us clutching our sides. But we had seen it on the day of release with no expectations and were bowled over. One of my friends found the jokes and situations contrived and strained at times. The strain of sculpting each scene differently does show sometimes - not all the punches land - but I am not going to hold ambition against a filmmaker who gets so much so right A video recording of you during the movie will show you smiling a lot. The tone isn’t haha (though there are many laugh-out-loud moments). We do get scenes in hospitals and scenes featuring the dismaying after-effects of treatment, but the defining mood is that of the stretch where a doctor (Saiju Kurup) is asked to please leave the office - his own office - so the family gathered there can sort things out. He takes a scary disease, the fount of a thousand on-screen tragedies, and makes a film that’s - there’s no other word for it - wholesome. That’s the film in a nutshell, and director Althaf Salim’s achievement is in not crossing the boundaries of good taste. The setting appears one of great poignancy, but Yesudasan says: “At this rate, you’ll set fire to not just the candle but Jesus, His beard and the lamb by His side.” Instead of a solo violin, we get a whoopee cushion. His hand wobbles, unable to land on the wick. One day, during prayer, he attempts to light a candle in front of a statuette of Jesus in his room. (He wants to invite Rose for a party, and she’s been dead twenty years.) He needs constant supervision, which is done in turns by the family and, later, by a male nurse named Yesudasan (Sharafudheen). Read the full review on Film Companion, here: Ĭonsider the eighty-year-old patriarch (KL Anthony) of the Chacko clan in Njandukalude Nattil Oridavela (An Interval in the Land of Crabs).
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