'Maayakoothu' Movie Review: A Puzzling Fever Dream Which Mixes Pulp Fiction and Philosophy 

The opening shot of AR Raghavendra’s head-scratcher Maayakoothu frames two creators and one creation as they discuss the philosophies of their respective artforms. Our protagonist Vasan (AR Raghavendra) is the writer of pulply serialised novels, and we see him deep in conversation with a sculptor he refers to as his mentor. As they discuss the powers they wield as creators, we see the mentor slowly sculpting away at the bust of a man, explaining how a single stroke of his chisel is enough to both bring life and death to his creation.

If it’s the chisel that gives the mentor the power to be God, it’s the pen that gives Vasan the same gift. We meet the novelist as he’s finishing three serialised novels, each in its final stages. One of these is a dark comedy about a gangster who is unable to go ahead with his landmark 50th murder. The other is about a housemaid named Selvi, accused of stealing Rs.2000 from one of the houses she works at. And the third is a melodrama about a young girl contemplating suicide as she discovers how she will never be able to become a doctor. As Vasan smokes and drinks through the final passage, he appears to be writing about people who live very far away from his reality. He seems to be looking down at his characters, writing them without the necessary empathy you expect a writer to feel towards his characters. What he’s also thought about for all of them are tragic endings. 

His pessimism is a result of his own worldview, we soon learn. “How do you expect happy endings in my stories when the world itself is grim and hopeless?” He asks a reader who demands more compassion from the writer. But when Vasan’s own life gets entangled in a vortex of misery, he expects the universe to be more forgiving, far more than he’s ever been to his own characters. 

A still from 'Maayakoothu'

It’s a film that takes it’s time to arrive at its philosophical core. Until then, we’re introduced to the three stories and the television serial-like world in which their stories are taking place. At first, you would be forgiven to dismiss the film’s aspirations. But when the conflict kicks in and we see Vasan being visited by each of the characters he’s written, the mood changes and we’re pushed deep into a surreal nightmare. 

As Vasan opens the door to his house, he finds Selvi standing right outside, demanding justice. Later, we notice an auto rickshaw driver picking up Vasan even though he’s expecting a car to pick him up. He knows nothing about the auto driver and his life, dismissing him as though he’s some sort of a low-life. But we soon learn that even this auto rickshaw driver must have been a character from one his older, forgotten novels. 

The said vortex he falls into is one created by a group of his own fictional characters. You see Vasan’s bias creeping in when he’s taken to a colony, as he believes it is inhabited with criminals. His bias and his lack of awareness pops up again when he’s chosen to name the gangster’s henchman with cliched titles such as Kaala, Kabali and Ranga. But instead, these situations changing how Vasan thinks, they reinforce his notions, throwing at us another loaded question, “Are we victims of our own biases?” 

The film, from then on, pushes Vasan into quicksand as he tries to battle every notion he’s held on to for so long about the creative process. Who gives a writer the power to remove all hope from the lives of his characters? And do writers have a responsibility towards society by presenting it with positive prospects rather than further add to its grimness? When thought about tangentially, one could argue that the film is alternate reading at how the world would be if there was no God. 

Made at a meagre budget of just Rs.25 lakh, Maayakoothu may have worked even better with a bigger budget and better performances. But in its present form, despite its many limitations, it takes you to a new place and leaves you there even without answering a dozen new questions it urges you think about, perhaps for the first time.