POPCORN REVIEWSS

Written by Abhishek Pathak, Aamil Keeyan Khan, and Parveez Shaikh, the repetitive nature of the plot is refreshingly addressed through certain sequences in the narrative. Even after Vijay Salgaonkar (Ajay Devgn), the now-famous citizen of Goa has successfully kept the cops at bay, the self-indulgent humour is addressed through the introduction of the infamous cop Gaitonde (Kamlesh Sawant), certifyingly boasting of how he remains the last cop standing in his fight versus the Salgaonkars, even as his bosses keep changing. He further goes onto hint at a meta-humour of the internet, who prioritize the Pav Bhaji ‘may-mays’ (memes) over Mahatma Gandhi. Clearly, the definition of truth has been skewed from the times of Bapu. He even goes onto compare the protagonist with his nagging wife, creating a parallel on how both of them have individually created havoc in his life – so much so that he has become increasingly frustrated over the years. The subtext remains similar to a face-off between Coyote and The RoadRunner – wherein the latter always pips the former in a hilarious exchange of events. Just that the humour here is catered to the palate of viewers, rather than the characters of this world – a strong reason why it works in the first place.

The writing is also self-aware to introduce the emotional beats of the narrative early on, with the reintroduction of victims of the crime, the parents of Sam – ex-cop Meera (Tabu), and her husband Mahesh (Rajat Kapoor). In an early scene, you sense the vulnerability of Meera who wishes to end her life, prompting her husband to hustle in reopening his son’s case. The same angle was inexplicitly showcased as a forced twist in the Malayalam film, something that just didn’t stick. But the writers here wish to keep all their cards on the table, atleast the ones that are pretty obvious and crucial to the emotional beats of the narrative.

The early proceedings are also quick to remind the viewers of the ‘reason’ of the ongoing, and a fresh bout of the cat-and-mouse chase – something that is easy to forget in the chaos of the Drishyam franchise. In the words of the new entrant in the form of a ruthless top cop Rajveer Singh Tomar (Jaideep Ahlawat), he compares the events of the world to a deer running from its predator, emphasizing the fact that after a point, even the prey is unaware of why it is running in the first place. This anecdote also doubles up as a self-aware spree in a narrative that is essentially built around the cat-and-mouse template. In the same breath, he also reminds the characters of a fresh bout of evidence based on a DNA test, that would ideally have been the logical next step in the first place – a pretty strong counter to the obvious pieces of evidence that remain untapped and ‘buried’.

I liked how the tension in the form of vital beats is consistently spread throughout the narrative. You do have the regular low-key plot-points – be it a fleeting reference to a land issue, or a mysterious phone call, or a discreet grave, all of which would circle back as vital call backs in the narrative. You also have two naive and understated alibis, being the center of an investigation brewing; something that results in a compelling cat-and-mouse chase. There is also a reference to the ghost of the past featuring another body, another date on the lines of 2nd October in question, and a cocky lawyer namely Indrajith (Prakash Raj) who doubles up as a formidable opponent to the more sincere but fiery defence lawyer Gayatri (Samvedna Suwalka). In between, there is a searing face-off between the Salgaonkars and Rajveer, the latter doubling up as an angel of death – except that he is on the right side of the law.

One of the reasons why you as a viewer are invested in the emotional beats of the Salgaonkar family, isn’t because of their crime that felt sensationalized – but more so because of how the court would only perceive their actions in black and white. The law wouldn’t note the evil advances of Sam, or even consider the burden of truth concealed by the family, almost viewing their crime in isolation. But from the protagonist’s POV – the idea always remains to protect the family, a trait that minutely threatens to transform his inherent characteristic at one point in the narrative. And I am glad that the writers did not take that bait of transforming the protagonist into a vigilante, making the protagonist consistently someone that one would root for.

This ‘defiance’ also makes the protagonist an underdog caught in not only a legal battle with his counterparts, but also a battle of ego. Remember, he is a fourth-grade failure, as opposed to the highly educated folks around him, who just can’t get the better of him. This underdog persona mounting his intellect on films, and overpowering the intellect of the characters around him in a compelling cat-and-mouse chase is what makes Drishyam exciting here.

As a viewer, I knew what was coming my way. I just needed to know how. And this little bit also acts as a slightly more negative merit of the drama; not because the reverse engineered twists in the final act are less impactful. But because I was immune to the ‘Drishyam’ template coined after the franchise, wherein I knew what to expect. As a result, the highs didn’t touch the skyscraping ones of the first two Drishyam films. But at the same time, I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy it – I did! And effectively circling back on the point, that the screenplay wasn’t designed around the intercutting ‘twists’ at the end. It wasn’t meant to shock or impress the viewers. It just very much defined the world of Drishyam, and sometimes that is all you need.