POPCORN REVIEWSS

One of the most interesting aspects of Paranthu Po is its characterization. Both Glory and Gokul remain embodiments of complexities that often creep up with age, something that their son Anbu remains oblivious about. They are an interfaith couple, that has made them distance themselves from their families. In a scene, you see Glory telling her colleague on how her sister stays in Coimbatore (where her saree expo is held) but her family isn’t in talking terms with her for over 10 years because of her interfaith marriage. In the next scene, a chance encounter with her sister results in a disaster, something that further breaks her heart. For Gokul, the case is similar – you just see his family in a fleeting scene before Anbu forces his father to leave. The reason isn’t conveyed but it is implied (he also stays many kilometers away from them in the first place), something that prompts him to leave. But unlike most couples, both Glory and Gokul are more closer to each other than ever, often connecting over the phone and bonding (even when occasionally lying to each other). It is quite ironic that Gokul has a fascination for cigarettes while Glory uses an air pump for asthma – a clear case of polar opposites that attract.

One of the main catalysts in the plot remains the financial condition of the family that has a direct impact on the lives of the characters. For Anbu, it is about being locked up in a room even during his summer vacation and attending classes while occasionally enjoying a slice of pizza. In a fleeting scene, you see Anbu wanting to share his pizza with the delivery guy, simply because it is bored. For Glory, it is about saving the maximum amount possible from her ‘business’ trip, even if it means walking her way back to her guesthouse in the middle of the night, while being gazed by mischievious elements at night. For Gokul, it is about wanting the best for his child – spending a fortune for Anbu’s surfboard or his slippers, even when his own financial situation isn’t great. Even the road trip of Anbu and Gokul that formulates the bulk of the narrative is actually incidental given that it is Gokul who has to hide away from a loan shark. In that regard, it is a coming of age story for all the characters.

There is a hint of annoyance that one might face with regards to Anbu and his antics, but the justification remains simple – he wants freedom from his ‘cage’, even if it means bathing in a pond, or running on the top of a mountain without knowing his way back, or climbing on top of a tree without the fear of any repercussions. His funda in life is simple – to live in the moment, a trait further established in a scene wherein he trades his expensive surfboard with a mere top. Life is all about the simplicities, that emerge out of the choices – something that starts rubbing in on Gokul and Glory too.

Gokul is a very closed character himself with fixed ideals – even as you see him lightly slapping Anbu in an early scene, mistaking him for lying. You also see him preventing Anbu from drinking his ‘first’ tea, only to slowly give in. In a lovely little transition scene, you see Gokul along with Anbu, entering an area with rainfall – almost like a sign of transformation that sees him meeting some old and new folks in his life, with whom he reconnects, and along with them his own life. It is the kind of a pause button in his life that is accidentally pressed but eventually having a positive effect in his life. Even when he meets his childhood crush, a now married Vanitha (Anjali), she is unclothed (not fully) and bathing – but there is no hesitation in his gaze that exudes of purity, something that is well received and reciprocated too, implying on how pure Vanitha is as a human too.

Glory is away from all the action, silently missing her family and going about her duties of accumulating money. But the transition in her character is gradual too – almost being transmitted from the frequent phone calls that she shares with Gokul and Anbu. In a scene when an elderly character wishes to purchase a saree at a much lower cost than the actual price of the attire, she initially hesitates but later obliges. In another scene, she is empathetic towards her co-worker who perhaps needs monetary support more than her, happily giving away her earnings along the way. It is the kind of kindness that makes you feel touched while witnessing the same in real life or on celluloid.

The focus is mainly on the smaller moments that Gokul and Anbe enjoy with each other. It is an accumulation of fleeting moments of freedom – be it Anbu using his surfboard on an open road, or him screaming at the top of his voice from a hilltop, or plucking a sunflower for his crush (just like Gokul does for Vanitha), or even reimagining a massage-chair to be a space-ship wherein he panicks knowing that he would ‘probably’ be away from his father. In that regard, you see a heartwarming bond between Gokul and Anbu, something that might seem to be nagging on the surface, but formulates a much deeper bonding of care.

So in multiple scenes when you Anbu bullying his father to give-up smoking, it is out of a deeper space of Anbu wanting his father to be alive, and to share a part of his freedom with him. For Gokul, it is about a transformation of supporting his son who chooses to take a dump in the midst of nature, almost signifying the deeper roots of freedom with respect to the evolution of mankind. The deeper question remains – the more the evolution of mankind, is the freedom getting diminished?  And even as you reflect on it, the solution provided by the screenplay is simple – to hit the pause button in life every now and then, and enjoy the freedom in the smaller moments of life related to nature, and amidst the company of the people that we love!