At the centre of Aattam is a flourishing theatre troupe consisting of a bunch of men and one woman. The theatre stands in a city in central Kerala, and the voices of dissent have already trickled in. Some are loud, and some are muffled.
The obvious conflict is between the two leading men of the play—Harish and Vinay. One is a movie actor (Kalabhavan Shajon) who gets top billing and never forgets to flaunt it and the other is a more experienced theatre artist who feels shortchanged as he isn’t as popular as the former. Debutant Anand Ekarshi (who has also done the screenplay) literally and metaphorically uses the theatre to cleave open the gender hypocrisies in society. What begins as an uncomplicated narrative soon tangles itself to reveal the duplicities of human behaviour.
It begins lucidly, bringing forth the bonhomie and brotherhood of the troupe. Most of the men have other jobs and hail from different socio-economic backgrounds. Their traits are finely drawn but not unfamiliar. There are men with domestic, career, and monetary concerns and theatre is their only respite. This is where they have learned to let loose, leave their problems aside, and perhaps confide in each other. The lone woman amongst these 12 odd men has merged seamlessly into the group. It all looks smooth on the surface until the woman has a harrowing experience one night.
Vinay (Vinay Fort) has grown up in theatre and considers it his fiefdom. That’s why he resents Harish’s reign in the troupe. Like many artists hailing from theatre, he considers himself superior to film actors. He is also estranged from his spouse (the reasons aren’t listed) and is secretly dating Anjali. While Anjali seems free as a bird, happily balancing her architecture and theatre. In the group, she doesn’t expect to be treated differently because of her gender and freely drinks and makes merry with the men. Harish comes across as a show-off, one who pulls annoying pranks on colleagues and acts patronizing. Some characters are in twisted romantic relationships and those portions are lightly touched upon.
The core conflict is gently drawn into the picture, without a fuss. And it is a brilliant ploy to leisurely unmask the facades in front of us. The writing is smooth as butter when it starts to work on the conflicts. Ironically the “drama” is completely left out of the narrative when they prepare to dive into the character's predicament. As the humans unveil their real selves, we are teetering between shock and disgust. It suddenly dawns on us that what was being projected wasn’t different from what they were showing on stage.
The persistent revolting questions faced by survivors during the #Metoo scandal are hurled at her … by the same men who knew her for years.
In their quest for better prospects, the men find it easier to betray and expose their dormant misogyny. And the woman, bruised and hurt, finds herself facing the inevitable. The gradual fragmentation in relationships hits you hard. However, as much as they try to hide it, their inherent misogyny springs up, leaving her disillusioned. When the same colleagues cast aspersions on her morality, Anjali realizes that she should be grateful for the opportunity to bare the duplicities around her rather than unveil the face of her predator.
It addresses the perceived societal boundaries allocated to women in public spaces. And it doesn’t take much time to understand that most of her male colleagues were hiding their biases and resentment. Look how in a split second a smitten colleague explodes when her relationship with Vinay is revealed. His male ego is hurt along with his own corrupt perceptions about a woman’s chastity.
The casting is bang-on and Zarin Shihab, who plays Anjali, takes the cake. The free-wheeling, liberated woman sits lightly on her and her shift to a battered survivor is as smooth. If you have seen one, you have seen them all is an adage that applies to Vinay Fort today. Perhaps his heavy Fort Kochi dialect is a giveaway that is stopping him from adding novelty to his characters. So Vinay does everything to sell the part but remains unmemorable. Kalabhavan Shajon brings that creepy air of a man who doesn’t mind using people for his gains so easily.
Aattam holds up a large clear oblong mirror to society’s double standards. And what you actually see is a reversed image of yourself. Nothing surprises you, yet everything hits you like a ton of bricks.
6 min
Columns
Let's Talk Movies
Mar 31, 2023
5 min
Columns
Let's Talk Movies
Sep 22, 2022
Aattam exposes society's double standards
9
16
29.11.2023
At the centre of Aattam is a flourishing theatre troupe consisting of a bunch of men and one woman. The theatre stands in a city in central Kerala, and the voices of dissent have already trickled in. Some are loud, and some are muffled.
The obvious conflict is between the two leading men of the play—Harish and Vinay. One is a movie actor (Kalabhavan Shajon) who gets top billing and never forgets to flaunt it and the other is a more experienced theatre artist who feels shortchanged as he isn’t as popular as the former. Debutant Anand Ekarshi (who has also done the screenplay) literally and metaphorically uses the theatre to cleave open the gender hypocrisies in society. What begins as an uncomplicated narrative soon tangles itself to reveal the duplicities of human behaviour.
It begins lucidly, bringing forth the bonhomie and brotherhood of the troupe. Most of the men have other jobs and hail from different socio-economic backgrounds. Their traits are finely drawn but not unfamiliar. There are men with domestic, career, and monetary concerns and theatre is their only respite. This is where they have learned to let loose, leave their problems........
© Mathrubhumi English
visit website
login
who are we?
contact us
qosheapp
Toi Staff
Gideon Levy
Belen Fernandez
Rami G Khouri
Mort Laitner
Donald Low
Ali Fathollah-Nejad
Nikkei Editorial
