Malayalam cinema captures bonding between strangers, from the fatherly love in Unnikale Oru Kadha Parayam to the unexpected friendships in Loudspeaker, Meiyazhagan and Charlie, each reshaping lives.
Last Updated: 08.28 AM, Nov 05, 2024
ONE OF THE EARLIEST FILMS that enraptured the child in me was Kamal’s Unnikale Oru Kadha Parayam. At its core featured Aby (Mohanlal), a compassionate tramp with a torn hat who took care of an army of orphaned children. Together they would conjure up magic shows and other street performances to raise money. Even when he is terminally ill, he is more devastated about the thought of his children’s future than about his ill fate. The whole concept of unconditional love around a stranger-turned-saviour resonated deeply with me. Aby (Mohanlal) remained an enduring symbol of hope and compassion, akin to an all-year Santa, and since then such narratives about extraordinary bonds that transcend everyday lives left a lasting fascination for me.
In Prem’s Meiyazhagan, when Arulmozhi (Aravind Swami) embarks on his hometown for his sister’s wedding, it's quite apparent that it has stirred long-dormant emotions in him. The town, once his sanctuary of joy, now echoes with bittersweet nostalgia. As a young adult when he was forced to shift into a new city, he had carried the scars, leaving behind pieces of his heart. This was the home that had witnessed some of his happiest memories. Perhaps one can say that the Arulmozhi who currently lives in Chennai with his wife, daughter and elderly parents is only partially alive, with the ache of his past remaining as a persistent wound. In many ways, his existence remains fractured, divided between the memories that define him and the reality that sustains him. In such a mindscape, a stranger (Karthi) walks into his life, radiating unwavering love and kindness. Not only is Arulmozhi taken off-guard by his intrusion but also disarmed by the knowledge that he can’t even recollect his face. But the stranger is almost relentless, overwhelming Arulmozhi with his undiluted love and before he knows it, Arulmozhi finds himself lost in a whirl of unchartered emotions. Soon the weight of his unconditional affection starts to crush Arulmozhi, as he cowardly flees from the intensity of emotions he cannot reciprocate. Eventually, his admission to the stranger proves to be the catalyst for his healing, freeing him from his existential crisis.
Similarly, it is compassion that threads together the narratives of refined Anand Menon (Sashikumar Menon) and the unschooled Mike (Mammootty) in Jayaraj’s Loudspeaker. Menon who has lost all his zest to live is feeling far from grateful towards Mike who has agreed to be an organ donor and treats him as a pariah initially. But Mike cannot see through the societal pretensions and decides to be just himself. The blearing voice that initially grates those around him soon breaks into their defences as they warm up to this naïve villager with a heart of gold. Menon soon realises that not even all the wealth or education can match up with Mike’s selflessness. Soon an unlikely but profound bond forms between these two disparate souls. In a way, both find solace in each other.
In North 24 Kaatham (directed by Anil Radhakrishna Menon) though Harikrishnan’s (Fahadh Faasil) OCD isn’t clearly defined, what’s apparent is that he is socially awkward. An IT professional, he isn’t able to warm up to humans, and instead of empathising, they secretly sneer at his reticence. Amid this, he finds himself forced to travel with two strangers on a long road trip. But what perhaps thaws his caginess is their generosity and kindness. If retired school teacher Gopalan’s warmth is all-encompassing, Narayani is kind and blunt, leaving Harikrishnan disarmed. On that journey, he finds himself loosening up, finding a strange, reflective bond with these two humans who seem to understand him like no one else. Later we realise that Hari already knows Gopalan’s wife is dead, but neither is he able to process the emotion nor share the news. It oddly adds a poignant, complex layer, challenging the general perception that Harikrishnan is unemotional.
Martin Prakkat’s Charlie weaves a narrative around a free-spirited vagabond (Dulquer Salmaan) who brings sunshine into the lives of others. As the story unfolds, with the help of a young woman, Tessa (Parvathy Thiruvothu) the identity of this mystery man, who is everywhere, rescuing and rebuilding the lives of strangers, is unravelled. He mends their tattered worlds with a nonchalance, mischievous smile and profound life lessons, and just as casually departs, leaving behind a trail of hope. Parallelly Tessa without even seeing him, crafts her own love story, mesmerised by the amount of empathy and kindness he possesses. It’s immersive to witness an absolute stranger’s transformative power. One can call Charlie a tweaked, cheerful version of Aby (Unnikale Oru Kadha Parayam)
In his quest to find a young girl in Goa, Pachu in Pachuvum Adbudha Vilakkum isn’t quite prepared for Hamsadhwani—a young woman who perceives life with immense pragmatism and depth. Having been rejected by several prospective suitors as well as a perceptive ex who chastened his entitlement, Pachu is already on the road to redemption. But even then, he is fascinated by the largeness of this stranger offering him shelter and a helping hand, without a second thought. Pachu is moved by her emotional resilience, which acts as a catalyst to view life through a different lens. Interestingly rather than anticipating a conventional love story, what’s captivating to witness is their surreal bond.