Quick take: This amusing combination of comedy and drama is very much like its predecessor. By following the absurd adventures of an absurd family, we are invited to think about the absurdity of life. A longer review follows, and it may contain spoilers.
In Bharathanatyam, we discovered that the family patriarch had a secret. The man died in that movie, but in the sequel, named Mohiniyattam, we discover that he had another secret. In Part 1, he haunted his family first from the hospital bed and then a wheelchair. In Part 2, he haunts his family from beyond the grave. Mohiniyattam is written by the director Krishnadas Murali and Vishnu R Pradeep, and it opens with the last rites of this man, Bharathan, played with just the right amount of mischief and sheepishness by Sai Kumar. Part 1 got its name from Bharathan’s “natyam” – the way this man danced around social norms with a double life. Part 2 gets its name from Bharathan’s mother, Mohinisree. She inspires the thing that becomes the root cause of this film’s trouble. What we are watching, in other words, is Mohini’s “aattam”.
The story begins when Bharathan’s entire family heads to Sreekandapuram to help the Sreeja Ravi character – Rukmini – to settle down. Like in Part 1,Saiju Kurup plays Bharathan’s oldest son, Sasidharan, and Kalaranjini plays his mother. The broad strokes in both films are similar. If there was a fake puja earlier, now we have a fake temple built around a fake god. If Part 1 showed Bharathan having a second family, Part 2 shows him being a cheater in another way. He has fooled around with people’s money. Once again, we get a man named Subhash (Baby Jean), who becomes a pest buzzing around the troubled family. And once again, the family finds themselves having to bar others from entering their home because there’s a secret inside. (It’s a Drishyam-like scenario.) And this time, the problems begin when a man named Govindaraja (a superb Suraj Venjaramoodu) invades the house and makes some disturbing revelations.
The biggest similarity between the two films is that – either intentionally or otherwise – they are content to exist in a pleasant zone. There’s a nice bit about why the people in Sreekandapuram find Kalaranjini’s face somewhat familiar. And again, the lookalike siblings played by Jinil Rex and Jivin Rex evoke some smiles. Vinay Forrt gets some big laughs as a silly police officer, but a lot of the humour is understated. The man has a skin condition, and the reason behind this could have been pushed for bigger laughs – but it’s contained to a mention or two. It’s the same with the drama. The plot point about the temple could have been pushed to make a bigger satire on religion, but it’s contained to a mention or two. We may feel that an event like getting rid of a corpse, for instance, would result in bigger complications for the family, but this, too, is contained.
In the midst of the humour, there’s a man who needs money for a job. There’s a man whose daughter is missing. So do we label these films as dramas with some laughs, or comedies with a few dramatic reflections about life? I think they are both. Through this big family where everyone’s a bit off, Bharathanatyam and Mohiniyattam become minor musings on the business of life and death. My favourite stretch from both films is the way Bharathan, the troublemaker, dies. It’s a bizarre death. Because of the bizarreness, this could be played as comedy. Because of the dying, this could be portrayed as a tragedy. Instead, the episode gets an existential sheen. Bharathan sees his death coming. He resists, at first, and then he accepts it. These films are backed by solid performances and music (Samuel Aby there, Electronic Kili here). But what makes them really tick is that they are borderline-absurd stories about the absurdity we call life.
