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Sookshmadarshini Movie Review: A Clever Rear Window-esque Dark Comedy With A Neighbourhood-friendly, Feminist Subtext!

The concept and clever setting of Sookshmadarshini reminds one of the Hitchcock classic Rear Window. Only that this time around, it’s more localized and relatable with the typical next-door women donning Jeff’s hat (or should I say binoculars?). Like Jeff in Rear Window was restricted to a wheelchair in his room because of an accident, Priyadarshini (a brilliant Nazriya Nazim), an eternally curious woman, is stuck in her house as a homemaker trying to find a job.

She lives in the kind of neighborhood in a small town where all gossip happens daily through WhatsApp groups. For instance, even before a young man finishes unpacking his stuff as he moves back to his old house, the entire street is done learning his history! It’s the sort of space where everyone knows everything about each other, including their daily routines, their work trips, and even birthdays and anniversaries. When an old woman goes missing, the police enquire about CCTV cameras, but well, with these inquisitive women who even jump walls to satiate their intuitive doubts and their constantly prying eyes, the street doesn’t need more cameras, do they?

But none of these details stand out like a sore thumb. The writing cleverly weaves this information into the film’s world so that you readily buy into it. When a woman is taking two sacks that are piled up in the backyard of someone else’s house, the neighbors don’t find it suspicious. And when another doesn’t inform her neighbor about going to an interview, the latter is offended. This is the kind of world they live in. It’s simple yet interestingly written.

Basil Joseph’s Manuel enters this sort of world, oblivious to the kind of eyes peering at his actions. The first time you see Basil, he is standing on a wall, in a weirdly funny position, trying to hit a cat. He is wearing a kind of sky-blue shirt that makes him look comical in a friendly way. Yet, Priya doesn’t fail to notice the way he leers at the cat with a sort of hatred. Basil, just like how he made his character in Jaya Jaya Jaya Jaya Hey comical but obnoxious, sleekly creates a confused impression about Manuel. Take the scene where Priya is trying to speak to his mom alone. Manuel isn’t worried about the conversation that might take place in his absence, he later also tells Priya that he would do anything for his mom but you still don’t believe him. It’s like, adding on to the efficient characterisation, Basil manages to make Manuel a puzzle you know but can’t crack yet.

There are a lot of parallels you could draw between Rear Window and Sookshmadarshini. Jeff’s binoculars and zoom lens cameras from the Hitchockian thriller get replaced by a colourful glass window, a spacious backyard, and a kitchen casement in this Malayalam entertainer. Both Jeff and Priya are interested in the things that elude the naked eye, the former being a photographer and the latter, a microbiologist. But unlike Rear Window, there are dosages of dark humor sprinkled throughout the film. When two women sneak into Manuel’s house, their fear and activities are milked to crack you up. This does lighten the tense moments, but that mostly works in the film’s favor. If the suspense-filled moments are treated with comedy, the fun moments like a kid watching someone play the Fruit Ninja game are used to build tension.

The angles and cinematography–like how Priya peeks through the glass window as if she is squinting to look through the microscope–too are creatively done to keep us hooked to the screens. The best part about Sookshmadarshini though is how the world is genuine and all characters, especially women here are written with care and agency. These women could sit around and gossip endlessly, but modernisation is not visible just in terms of WhatsApp groups and group phone calls. When a single mother warms up to a new neighbor, people here aren’t slandering or throwing derogatory looks. Likewise, when their neighbor tries to gain more attention by exaggerating things a tad too much, they comment in passing but never put her down. And when Priya begins to suspect Manuel and his intentions, the men in her world seem to dismiss her. But the women tend to believe her assumptions that are decoded in clever yet silly patterns–like the concept of plucking curry leaves or the trivial details like the number of pressure cooker whistles that make her skeptical about Manuel.

Just like how you think you know Manuel but are unable to crack the puzzle, you are unable to piece together the happenings in the film as well. You just seem to know everything yet something seems to be missing. And the screenplay uses this to keep you engaged albeit the minor setbacks, that when the final twists are revealed, you see it coming but it still impressively shocks you. With Kishkindha Kaandam and now, Sookshmadarshini, Malayalam cinema’s stellar run in 2024 head at a steady pace, and fortunately, the baton now seems to have been passed to their women as well.

Rating – 3.5/ 5