'Pennum Porattum' Movie Review: A Truly Inventive Absurd Comedy

It’s very much a part of the design to start watching Pennum Porattum (The Girl And The Circus) from Suttu’s POV. Voiced by Tovino Thomas, Suttu is a white mongrel with black spots all over and the refugee the film talks about in its opening statement refers to those like Suttu. In his introductory voiceover, he’s letting us in on his daily routine and the number of times he’s been shifted in and out of his master's house. He isn’t particularly happy there, nor is he comfortable in his tiny cage. And as we see stones being pelted at Suttu from outside, in a fit of rage, he shouts back and calls them “Manushyante makkale!”, which is something along the lines of "You sons of humans!"

We laugh at this usage and move on without giving it another thought. But as Pennum Porattum progresses, we find ourselves seeing the absurd world of Pattada (even the vehicles of this strange place come with its own incense plate) through the eyes of Suttu and his buddies. It’s as though we’ve been primed to watch a version of Animal Planet, if it had been a television channel made for animals so they could understand the ways of us inscrutable humans. And by the end of Pennum Porattum, ‘Manushyante makkale’ doesn’t quite sound like a joke anymore…it feels like a cuss word that’s already in circulation among animals.

It borrows elements from older movies (Good Boy comes to mind) which used the trope of seeing people through animal eyes and then takes a few crazy steps ahead. This perspective allows for a layer of exaggeration, a hilarious addition that turns regular everyday people into fascinating anthropological subjects. Their rituals, norms, morality and social life is put under a microscope, as though Pattada is a microcosm unto itself. Even when we try to look for familiarity (they all speak in a thick Palakkad accent), it still looks like an entirely alien planet.

This notion is best supported by the film’s art department. From what appears to be the Tree Of Life, emerge out of a toilet, to a house with a speaker system installed, just so a hard-of-hearing grandmother can listen to what’s happening, this world is a real work of imagination. A hamster powers a giant fan at Pattada’s social club and a cattle shed doubles up as an elaborate dining hall within seconds. Animals here become so organically integrated into these lives that we forget to make distinctions, learning names of cows, dogs and ducks just as we remember names of people.

Which is why the film takes the shape of its own when it draws parallels between two major timelines. On one hand is Suttu being chased around by the entire village when word spreads that he’s bitten his master and that he could be rabid. On the other hand, is how word spreads again about the promiscuity of a woman named Charu when her friend eavesdrops on her conversation. It’s as though the villagers struggle to make a distinction between both events, taking upon themselves the duty to keep up their village’s safety and morality. Just as a mob is formed to tackle Suttu, a similar witch-hunt begins to capture Charu (Raina Radhakrishnan) when news spreads about a sexual advance. But is Suttu rabid and has Charu really sinned? This doesn’t feel like anybody’s concern.

It’s impressive how first-time director Rajesh Madhavan (who also acts in this film) was able to create this multi-layered universe that feels distinctively original; it works so well that you can totally imagine children enjoying its nuances, just as well as adults digging deeper for subtext. Through its Tom And Jerry-like lens, we find ourselves as amused and we’re entertained as we get schooled about crimes we've committed.

But it’s the casting director within Rajesh Madhavan that takes the cake. Apart from an actor or two, almost the entire film has been populated by a group of fresh talents we’ve never seen before. And yet they inhabit the screen, absorbing the loud nuances of this world as though each was born for it. Any far-fetched idea feels safe in their hands and for a film that begins with Suttu being locked up in a shoe-sized cage, we move into a third act in which a mighty battle culminates in half the village getting trapped inside a cage of their own (including a Rene Magritte-esque image of a man’s head being locked into a bird’s cage). Between all the chaos and the Chinese whispers about what’s right and what’s not, we feel forced to rephrase the idiom “a dog-eat-dog world” in embarrassment. Next time you find yourself losing hope in humanity, maybe borrow a phrase from good old Suttu, by lamenting how this world has done to the D̶o̶g̶s̶…humans.