One of the reasons why Thudarum majorly works is because of the characterization of Benz. He typifies the common man who once used to work as an assistant to a fight master in the Tamil Film Industry before returning to his roots and choosing to stay with his family. Through the conversations, you also are privy to his love for his car, an A1 black ambassador who plays a vital character in the film. There are conversations are brew between his family or his friends, but they are deliberately scattered in order to give a ‘meandering’ impression about the state of affairs around Benz. In that sense, the template of narration is directly in lines with the iconic Mohanlal film Drishyam (2013), just that the events play out like an anti-thesis after a point.

Just like in Drishyam, the drama is designed to switch courses after an incident playing out in isolation. But the distinguishing factor lies with the characterization of the protagonists even though the overlapping phase involves the protection of the families. Georgekutty from Drishyam was more cerebral in his approach and actions, almost being vily and smart enough to outwit the cops. Benz remains an anti-thesis of Georgekutty – he is vulnerable and helpless allowing his body language to weigh in the burden of the atrocities subjected to him by the cops. He is ridiculed, slapped-around, taken for a ride while ultimately unleashing his ‘brawl’ avatar, as opposed to the calm demeanor of Georgekutty who could turn the tide in a matter of minutes. Interestingly, the turning point in the drama features dual dynamics that are impacted in the life of Benz – his car is damaged only for him to vent out his rage on his son Pavi (Thomas Mathew). And so the shift in tide from a feel-good drama to a supposed tragedy occurs after this event.

The drama offers a searing social commentary on the power dynamics of the land that has become our reality today. In a scene, you witness a helpless Benz pleading for his car to be released by the authorities, after the latter wrongly seize the vehicle. The undercurrents of tension are quite evident at various places even when things begin to go Benz’s way, with the writers being mindful of raising the stakes at every juncture. It is almost like alerting the viewers of an unforeseen tragedy waiting to happen, simply by building the mood around the events, even as characters go from one location to another while taking a minor pit-stop. The pit-stop in itself is symbolic of an eye-wash technique used by media channels whereas the reality is something else. But a change in the setting shifts the dimensions of the drama, that applies also to the tone of the writing.

I liked how there are comparisons made between humans and elements of nature – one featuring the prevalence of snakes and the other, elephants that represents a few of the characters in the film (without giving out spoilers). Also, the aspect of spirituality expressed through a forest festival that literally opens the floodgates, does make for a grounded sense of realisation, that of Karma finally catching up in the wake of a tragedy. Elsewhere, the unpredictability of the drama remains intact even as Benz finds himself in the middle of a personal tragedy. In a searing scene, you witness Benz repeatedly washing his hands while anticipating blood on them (literally and figuratively), that highlights the psyche of a broke personnel. There are smaller easter eggs interspersed in the narrative – like his wife Lalitha (Shobana) running a flour mill called ‘Pavithram’ (also a reference to the 1994 Malayalam film Pavithram starring Shobana and Mohanlal). And this symbolic name meaning ‘purity’, also holds a matter of relevance in the turn of events that follow. And this is also where the grammer of the film shifts.

The unpredictability of the drama also lies with respect to its tonality that enters into a mass commercial space, or in more broader strokes being termed as a revenge thriller. The writers do well in concealing the eventual motive and social message tagged to the incident in question, but the little cat and mouse game that flurries between the protagonist and the cops does make for an exciting proposition onscreen. It almost seemed like a Shakespearean tragedy that was following a template of an anti-thesis, just like Georgekutty and Benz in Drishyam and Thudarum respectively. However, I did feel a few moments of lag in the second hour, particularly closer to the final act that were slightly repetitive in nature. Nevertheless, the conclusion was immensely satisfying thereby summing up the screenplay that is wonderfully well written and presented.