Casting
Fahadh
Faasil
does
not
help
as
his
chameleon-like
acting
credentials
is
wasted
in
a
mundane
cop
archetype
that
passes
through
Bougainvillea
with
little
or
no
impact
on
how
things
eventually
play
out,
observes
Arjun
Menon.
Bougainvillea
is
an
Amal
Neerad
film,
sure.
We
have
all
the
tropes
that
the
film-maker
employs
in
his
more
successful
films
like
stylised
slow-motion
sequences,
meticulously
composed
framing
and
camera
movements,
a
thumbing
background
score,
and
elegant
character
gestures
that
feel
otherworldly.
But
this
is
precisely
the
issue
at
the
core
of
this
psychological
thriller
based
on
a
script
co-written
by
Lajo
Jose
(drawing
extensively
from
one
of
his
best-selling
novels)
about
a
couple
and
their
fight
against
the
wife’s
aggravated
retrograde
amnesia,
an
aftermath
of
an
accident
that
had
occurred
years
ago.
The
film
follows
Dr
Royce
Thomas
(Kunchako
Boban)
and
his
wife
Reethu
(Jyothirmayi),
who
has
momentary
fixes
of
memory
loss
in
her
day-to-day
interactions.
She
has
a
dedicated
domestic
help
catering
to
her
needs
to
keep
her
abreast
of
her
daily
needs
and
requirements.
The
wife
is
going
through
a
hard
time
navigating
the
contours
of
her
fumbling
reality
that
has
stopgaps
in
between
and
restarts
on
its
own
accord,
often
leaving
her
stranded
in
awkward
situations,
with
only
her
fixation
with
painting
providing
a
much-needed
respite.
Reethu’s
condition
also
makes
her
conjure
up
images
of
her
two
non-existent
children,
a
fantasy
that
her
well-meaning
husband
and
help
put
up
with
for
her
sake.
The
issue
with
Bougainvillea
is
not
that
it
hinges
its
entire
suspense
mechanism
on
a
single
reveal,
but
the
fact
that
the
central
idea
is
not
scaffolded
with
solid
writing
choices
to
imbalance
the
viewer’s
expectations.
The
film
is
constructed
with
a
straight-face
earnestness
and
pulp
sensibility
that
does
not
take
itself
too
seriously.
But
the
fidgety
film-making
tries
hard
to
elevate
the
pulpy
page-turner
material
into
an
abstract
fever
dream,
albeit
one
with
lots
of
swagger
and
abstraction
in
its
design.
Amal
Neerad
can’t
help
himself
but
render
the
material
hyper-stylised
through
his
exuberant
punk
aesthetic,
if
one
can
call
it
that.
David
Koshy,
IPS
(Fahadh
Faasil)
is
in
charge
of
investigating
a
series
of
cases
of
missing
young
women
and
happens
to
cross
paths
with
the
couple
after
Reethu
is
seen
passing
through
one
of
the
crime
scenes.
The
writing
of
this
character
hints
at
the
lazily
drawn-out
caricaturish
nature
of
this
film’s
conflicts
that
feel
contrived
and
cooked
up
with
no
signs
of
internal
life.
Casting
Fahadh
Faasil
also
does
not
help
as
his
innate
charm
and
chameleon-like
acting
credentials
is
wasted
in
a
mundane
cop
archetype
that
passes
through
the
film
with
little
or
no
impact
on
how
things
eventually
play
out.
It
can
be
argued
that
this
kind
of
sketchy,
flimsy,
character
works
well
in
genre
storytelling,
but
here,
it
feels
more
lacklustre
as
opposed
to
intentionally
incorporated
as
part
of
the
overall
story
construction.
Casting
Jyotirmayi
to
play
the
centerpiece
of
the
puzzle
box
was
a
piece
of
inspired
casting
as
the
actress
holds
the
weight
of
the
film’s
good
ideas
on
her
shoulders.
Her
impenetrable
quality
helps
to
up
the
stakes
as
we
feel
as
helpless
as
her
in
her
ability
to
recall
events
and
occurrences.
The
actress
is
in
solid
form
and
perfectly
understands
the
assignment.
She
does
not
try
to
overcompensate
for
the
shallowness
in
her
character
design
by
playing
it
straight.
Kunchako
Boban
is
also
a
revelation
in
a
slightly
lower
register,
who
of
late
has
been
making
each
film
count
by
choosing
enigmatic
character
types,
clearly
breaking
out
of
his
long-standing
industry
image.
The
actor
perfectly
complements
Jyotirmayi’s
confused
state
with
a
touch
of
soothing
stability.
But
this
promise
is
floundered
away
to
some
extent
due
to
the
maddening
repetitions
and
conveniently
ignored
itches
in
the
screenwriting
and
tone
building.
For
instance,
there
are
placeholder
scenes
involving
Dr
Royce’s
interaction
with
his
fellow
doctor
in
his
clinic
that
are
written
as
important
exposition
dumps
to
provide
us
with
an
overview
of
the
events
leading
up
to
the
wife’s
medical
condition.
But
the
poorly
conceived
nature
of
these
interactions
with
secondary
characters,
coupled
with
clumsy
staging
choices,
undercuts
the
momentum
of
the
central
enigma,
the
beguiling
memory
lapses
that
force
the
couple
against
the
wall
in
intense
police
interrogations.
Here,
just
imagining
the
way
the
exposition
was
delivered
in
yet
another
recent
thriller
Kishkindha
Kaandam,
coincidentally
also
obsessed
with
similar
themes
examining
our
ability
to
retain
memories
and
the
fading
line
between
fact
and
fiction
that
we
make
up
in
our
heads.
But
the
exposition
scenes
in
the
Asif
Ali
starrer
were
handled
with
such
care
and
attention
to
detail
that
you
feel
the
importance
of
the
context
being
set
up
without
compromising
the
initial
intrigue
of
the
central
gimmick.
Bougainvillea
sees
Amal
Neerad
venturing
into
new
territory
regarding
a
few
decisions
made
in
the
latter
half.
The
film
manages
to
surprise
us
with
some
adventurous
twists
and
turns
that
keep
it
afloat.
Still,
the
abstraction
in
the
dream
imagery
is
not
topped
by
Neerad
whose
innately
‘cool’
sensibilities
try
to
rescue
a
rushed,
gaping,
finale
to
little
or
no
effect.
The
score
by
Sushin
Shyam
sounds
hip,
but
is
held
back
by
a
film
in
conflict
with
its
own
identity.
There
are
flashes
of
promise
and
narrative
ingenuity,
but
the
overall
impact
is
softened
by
a
tokenistic
ending
that
deprives
the
film
of
its
sombre
subject
matter.
Amal
Neerad
can
make
even
a
piece
of
wood
look
‘cool’
with
his
masterful
eye
for
image-making,
but
there
is
only
so
much
joy
he
can
impart
to
a
script
just
happy
with
its
initial
promise
and
indefinite
unrealised
possibilities.
Bougainvillea
Review
Rediff
Rating:
