Balan: The Boy

Scattered thoughts on...

• This is the sort of screenplay that comes in carrying enough heft in the writing. An outlandish premise, a dramatic question (can a bond be more important than having an identity?), a bookend, enough rationale behind every plot beat, a narrative conceit (stark setting-jumps) that feels warranted by the emotional core of the story. There’s so much meat to work with for a director, good on Chidambaram for recognising the potency of it.
• Thematically, this is a straightforward story - a traumatised woman becomes the very entity she fears - a demonic presence that will enslave the very person they claim to love. We see her son unknowingly becoming a slave to her when she decides for him that they’ll have to run away from the current life they just curated - a life that he’s just begun to like. This is the scene in Ammuma’s house, where Balan’s just gotten to liking school, and Sherly (her then name) decides to pack-up on having come across an old threat. This is where the story comes to light - her extreme measures to run away from her trauma is resulting in her almost recreating it for her son.
• The two halves are split as two spectacles as one with a motherly figure, and then a fatherly figure. The absence of the former is absolutely felt, and emotionally drives the helplessness felt with the latter. But the stark contrast, is also why I’d call this a wild swing that might not work across the gallery, even if it is inherently interesting. The journey, scale, unpredictability and momentum of Balan’s childhood is a tad too intriguing and expansive - both visually and emotionally, as compared to the stickiness of the later half. But that’s by design - the story zeroes in on a clear antagonising force. Dealing with a cop who appears pointedly evil, adds to the frustration. I personally prefer the ambivalent morality we get to experience in the earlier portion. I also could move on from this feeling, thanks to the story’s promising travel, and the film’s overarching seriousness and flair.
• But the writing does prepare us for a deviant Pavithran KS (Jean Paul Lal is very good) and his seemingly lopsided revenge by prefacing his character as a twisted and disproportionately vengeful guy (his Maman’s complaint). I did wonder what if he were unpredictable? Would it have seemed like too much of a stretch? But men have indeed been worse or as bad, for failing to “attain” their love.
• I couldn’t come to terms with how the older Balan is so trusting/naive with cops, especially for the environment he’s growing up in.
• The cast across the board, has very striking eyes. Muhammed Zinan, as older Balan, carries hope and helplessness in his eyes to a very genuinely affecting degree. Adhisheshan K’s eyes hold on to unassumingly broken innocence. Farzana Palathingal eyes are particularly wide open for the always-on-edge life she’s curated for herself. This is pretty inspired casting.
• Casting Tovino, or any well-known star as Abbas, appears as a sensible choice to me. The film in the second half, has to sort of give up on all the engagement it had built with the novelty of faces in the first half. So it makes sense to retain that engagement by injecting some familiarity into the proceedings through Tovino.
• I’d say the film is also made on a rather cold and calculated note (much like the characters), one that’s technically impressive too. Shyju Khalid’s sensibilities have always elevated the material he’s dealt with, and he’s yet again done a great job on top of having such good stuff to take off with. He does a great job at underlining the dubious nature of these characters. Sushin Shyam’s score is kinetic and in great sync with the constant on-the-move nature of the film. His cinematic swells and pulsing beats, that now can be identified as belonging to his signature soundscape, know how to keep us on our toes.
• The one scene I believed could’ve landed with more of a suckerpunch is Abbas’ reveal - it could’ve been made more affecting with slower pace, and no music. The event unfurls a little too fast, with extremely economical writing and staging, and that does take away some weight from the moment.
• Two similar shots in the film that will stay with me, that use a shallow depth of field. One - Shamna (a menacing Beena Antony) entering the frame from a blurred background - a scary moment, the first instance of a threat since their life began at Ammuma’s place. Two - the climax, with Balan in the foreground and Sherly appearing from the corner of the frame. I’m not saying there’s a straight thematic link between these two shots, just want to note that they use the same device, and I think the effect they produce in both instances is remarkable.
• Balan is the middle cinema I wish for more of from mainstream Indian cinema, operating with technical flair and meaty writing, with both think-y and feel-y facets to take home.