‘Prathichaya’ Movie Review: Interesting Ideas Don't Gel Together In Nivin Pauly’s Stilted Political Drama

There is an interesting movie somewhere in the folds of Nivin Pauly’s latest political drama, Prathichaya. Leaving aside the fact that the film holds several references to various true events from Kerala’s modern political history, Prathichaya also has fairly engaging characters (fictionalised or not). We have a Chief Minister, who is as righteous as he is corrupt, just to balance out his moral scales of justice, a data giant who explains the fascism hiding in data harvesting and a bad guy whose villainy comes not by his build but by a hunger to corporatise every free media. In a film, which is underscored by stilted writing and an old-fashioned treatment of drama, these flourishes never really get their moment in the sun.

Nivin Pauly in 'Prathichaya'

Prathichaya spends a lot of time on KN Varghese (Balachandra Menon), the Chief Minister of Kerala. He may be a good egg, but he isn't going to refrain from taking advantage of being the supreme ruler of the state. How does he sleep at night? His son John (Nivin Pauly) asks him at one point.  “When I do a 100 ‘wrongs’, I also do a 100 ‘rights’. I count my rights as I fall deep into sleep,” he says with a laugh. There are enough deeply complicated and unclassifiable qualities in him that make us understand why filmmaker Unnikrishnan spends as much time as he does on him. But we’ve all watched enough films to know that the film is less about the father and more about the younger son’s ascent to the throne.

To this effect, we’re subjected to cliched introductions of the hero — John is a data mogul who isn’t afraid of using information to his power — with completely avoidable scenes of him hitting on women at parties to some screeching dude bro music. There is a mandatory ‘Ted Talk’ adjacent scene to show off the character’s prowess. It’s a pretty confusing writing move because John’s career is actually an important and eventually fascinating part of the film in its second and third acts. There must be a better way to do character introductions, because the film delves deep into John’s profession, which actually makes an apt observation of our country’s troubling relationship with data transparency. 

A still from 'Prathichaya'

When his father is accused of sexual assault, the Varghese family must make a decision. Fight or flight. Balachandra Menon is especially perceptive in scenes of deep contemplation. “Do you believe I would’ve done something like this?” he asks John, fraught with tension. It’s interesting because, having understood his track record, this also seems like a question framed for the viewers of the film. Would he have done it? But the film doesn’t really hold space for deep introspection between a father and his child, like perhaps a film like Gargi did. The man is “obviously” framed, and the woman is “obviously” lying. 

This rhetoric, whether based on real events or not, is a bit unsettling when women-bashing and the manosphere subculture are dominating our algorithms. When John takes over his father's seat after a tragedy, the film doesn't immediately idolise him, but manufactures innocence and power, smart enough to fool the public. These scenes, while novel on paper, aren't accompanied by any depth in character development. They instead play out to jarring, operatic music that makes every moment seem like characters are getting war-ready.

Sharaf U Deen plays Ravi Madhavan, a villain with an interesting backstory. But the writing here is so underdeveloped that it takes us a while to connect the dots and realise his place in the larger scheme of things. Pauly is robust in scenes with Sharaf, but these moments come much later than they actually should for us to stay immersed; these are designed to make every revelation like a thrilling tug of war, but the result leaves a lot to be desired.