POPCORN REVIEWSS

Written by Krishand, Masthishka Maranam has a bunch of interesting ideas to dabble with, with regards to the characters and the world built around them. So when we are introduced to the protagonist Bimal (Niranj Maniyanpilla Raju), you see him imbibing himself in a sea of grief, having lost his daughter. His wife Anindya (Ann Saleem) has chosen to wipe off her memories and start afresh, something which Bimal is unable to. Hence you see him indulging in VR video games by injecting the memories of near-death experiences of strangers.

The subtext of his conflict remains on the humans’ inability to deal with emotions and memories in futuristic times, wherein there remains a choice to wipe out memories and start afresh. Yet, the writing wishes to probe on the fact that emotions can never be currencies that are replaced – instead a journey of grief and joy that remains personal to every individual. For Bimal, the VR acts as a case of escapism and catharsis – much like the video games like PubG being played today. But given that the memories in play are ‘real’, the writing also forces you to question the idea of voyeurism – another phenomena that we associate with reality TV shows.

Speaking of voyeurism, we are also introduced to the character of Frida Soman (Rajisha Vijayan) – the last of the ‘human’ superstars in the world of AI, and often regarded as a ‘S*x Symbol’ by fans and humans around her who are known to objectify her. In fact, the writing highlights the fact on how being a woman in future (particularly in showbiz) would still continue to throw a challenge – another reminder on how the male counterparts wouldn’t have changed too. In a scene, you literally see a temple being built for Frida, only for her statue to metaphoricallly crack and break, every time she chooses to voice her opinion. And given that she remains a public figure, her life is voyeuristic as ever, something that extends to the conflict in the narrative too.

The humourously quirky tone often cuts through the seriousness of the topic, even as you gently traverse the gaze of Bimal in his quest to watch a p*rno content on his VR featuring Frida, only to be embroiled in a double murder mystery based on an illicit memory tape in play. It remains an interesting conflict in times when morality has dimished with the wake of the technology revolution, even whilst the lives of people are quietly invaded through their cyberpunk of memories. For Bimal, it was about discovering a spark that invariably lands him in trouble. But the question regarding the witnesses and the law and order situation is hilariously masked as a conflict, particularly in an era wherein memory can be erased or even traded.

Structurally, the proceedings unfold like a whydunnit while positioning its needle on an unknown witness called ‘Simon’. But even during moments of investigation, the tone of the drama is quirky, whilst willing to explore the world of cyberpunk. The subtext in this phase remains the decaying mind that is immersed in technology while never really looking for answers in the real world. So in this case, when the investigating officer GDP Pradeep (Jagdish) prods Bimal to enter the virtual reality, and arresting folks who had previously dabbled with the memory of the ‘witness’, you are fully sold into a world that is brain dead – hence the title, Masthishka Maranam.

The events marginally get a little heavy during the courtroom scenes, particularly with ‘Frankenbite’ style of cuts that deviates moderately into self-indulgence to an extent, although the template itself reminded me of the chaos prevalent in a Priyadarshan film. Thankfully, it is the humour that consistently keeps the show running, be it the quirky courtroom sequence that takes the shape of a reality show – thereby, reaffirming the concept of voyeurism in future. Even the monologue at the end remains a relevant discussion of the objectification of women, something that we already are witness too even today on celluloid. This, while also touching upon the toxic media ‘pap’ culture which is slowly but steadily getting out of hand today.

But just then, the end completely takes you unaware – even as the title card changes from ‘Simon’ to ‘Robin’ (in blue) – thereby probing on multiple theories. Is Bimal caught in a mind-loop of the video game on VR that essentially makes him go in an overdrive? Is Bimal dead already, only for his memory to be viewed alternately by a guy called Robin? Does Bimal’s mind create a final illusion of confusion in his ‘near-death’ moment before being shot? The idea of a game within a game is where my heart lies, but the answers to it shall be had in its second film.