Rekhachitram
is
the
latest
in
an
assembly
line
of
films
that
use
the
allure
of
the
past
to
drive
home
the
suspense
of
relatively
straightforward
genre
stories,
notes
Arjun
Menon.
What
If
this
happened
instead
of
that?
This
is
the
basic
premise
upon
which
works
of
alternate
history
or
speculative
fiction
operate.
Jofin
T
Chacko’s
sophomore
directorial
outing
Rekhachitram
reimagines
a
scenario
involving
Bharathan’s
beloved
musical
romance
Kaathodu
Kaathoram
(1985).
Rekhachithram
provides
the
necessary
scaffolding
for
filmmakers
to
elevate
a
mundane
why-dunnit
into
the
realms
of
a
well-observed
‘meta’
cinema.
The
film
proposes
the
question:
What
if
this
inconsequential
figure
from
the
past
had
made
her
way
into
the
making
of
one
of
Malayalam
cinema’s
revered
canon
classics?
Would
she
have
made
a
difference
if
history
gave
her
the
chance?
The
film
is
operating
in
two
timelines,
one
set
in
the
present
and
the
other
happening
in
the
year
1985.
A
junior
artist’s
experiences
on
the
set
of
a
now-classic
film
have
been
re-interpreted
as
the
focus
of
the
story,
and
you
get
two
separate
dreams
involving
two
women
at
the
centre,
leading
to
disastrous
consequences
for
both.
You
get
an
AI-enhanced
digitally
rendered
Mammootty
appearing
for
a
few
scenes
and
the
placement
of
his
character
as
a
side
player
in
the
alternate
retelling
of
the
shoot
days
is
handled
with
relative
grace.
Though
some
of
the
imagery
involving
the
actor
lacks
a
certain
polish
and
appears
wobbly,
the
thrust
of
his
presence
cannot
be
negated.
Rekhachithram
works,
thanks
to
its
dedication
to
the
fabric
of
alternate
myth-making.
Asif
Ali
stars
as
Vivek
Gopinath,
a
suspended
police
officer
with
a
history
of
compulsive
gambling,
put
in
charge
of
a
weird
case
that
ties
back
to
a
film
production
that
happened
in
the
mid-1980s.
The
case
involving
a
dead
old
man,
a
belated
confession
to
a
crime
and
a
recovered
skeleton,
unearths
a
botched
cover-up
job
in
the
past.
Vivek
takes
special
interest
in
the
seemingly
random
case
that
goes
back
to
1985
when
the
Mammootty
starrer
Kaathodu
Kaathoram
was
made.
Rekhachithram
tries
to
be
two
things
at
once,
a
satisfying
crime
drama
with
a
foregone
conclusion
and
a
piece
of
curious
alternate
history
that
tries
to
metaphorically
invoke
a
fictional
reconstruction
of
a
key
period
in
the
Malayalam
film
history
from
the
vantage
point
of
someone
who
was
not
given
the
chance.
The
film
is
not
always
successful,
as
the
ambition
of
the
conceit
is
not
met
by
the
clunky,
expository
filler
scenes
that
seem
to
be
in
a
hurry
to
get
to
the
conceptual
point
of
the
narrative.
For
instance,
the
interactions
between
Asif
Ali
and
the
rest
of
the
supporting
cast
in
the
present
timeline
is
underwritten
with
the
precision
of
a
Chat
GPT
prompt.
The
jarring
dissonance
in
the
way
these
interactions
are
staged
undercuts
any
sense
of
immediacy.
In
a
private
moment
when
the
protagonist
confides
in
the
forensic
surgeon
as
the
case
is
taken
away
from
him,
the
doctor
responds,
‘I
think
you
should
investigate
this
on
your
own.’
You
never
get
the
sense
of
how
these
characters
get
so
worked
up
by
this
particular
case
and
the
random,
unintentionally
funny
lines
make
it
harder
to
engage
with
the
supposedly
sober
investigation.
The
period
detail
and
creative
re-interpretation
of
the
events
involved
in
the
film-within-the-film
format
get
to
you
for
its
meta
quality.
You
have
seen
these
images,
scenes
and
songs
before
and
the
new
context
helps
to
provide
a
novelty
to
the
familiar
beats.
Asif
Ali
is
mostly
asked
to
do
nothing
other
than
look
intrigued,
conflicted
and
frustrated.
There
is
a
clear
lack
of
definition
in
the
way
his
character
is
penned
and
the
broad
strokes
and
plot-focused
writing
makes
it
a
thankless
part.
Anaswara
Rajan
is
well
cast
as
the
wide-eyed,
hopeful
figure
who
dreams
of
a
different
life
from
the
one
she
eventually
gets
handed
over.
It’s
her
character
and
the
small
emotional
payoff
at
the
end
that
work
in
some
sense
of
emotional
resonance
in
this
otherwise
cold,
passively
laid
back
crime
thriller.
The
lack
of
clarity
in
building
personal
stakes
and
the
amateurish
handling
of
these
simplified
scenes
baffle
you,
even
though
Rekha
Chitram
is
never
boring.
The
occasionally
functional
character
motivations
deprive
the
writing
of
any
flavour
and
you
can
sense
the
screenplay
crumbling,
one
line
at
a
time,
under
its
pressure.
Characters
like
the
journalist’s
girlfriend
drop
in
and
out
of
the
film,
based
on
the
immediate
plot
requirements,
not
offering
much
by
way
of
their
presence.
Nothing
is
revealed
about
these
people
and
their
interest
in
pursuing
such
an
old,
forgotten
crime
is
treated
as
an
inevitable
occurrence
to
move
the
plot
forward.
Cinematographer
Appu
Prabhakar
is
not
flashy
with
his
frames
and
manages
to
capture
the
contrasting
aspirations
of
the
two
timelines.
Composer
Mujeeb
Majeed’s
score
is
thunderous
and
suggestive
at
times
and
tells
you
exactly
how
to
feel
on
a
scene-to-scene
basis,
with
few
exceptions.
The
film
is
similar
to
the
one-dimensional
thrillers
from
Malayalam
cinema
in
recent
times
like
Ozler
and
Anweshippin
Kandethum.
It’s
too
busy
building
texture,
forensic
jargon
and
mood
into
its
setting,
without
adhering
to
the
interiority
of
the
hero’s
obsession
with
the
truth.
Structurally
too,
these
films
pose
no
interesting
upending
of
existing
screenwriting
conventions
and
just
drop
in
an
underdeveloped
hero
figure
in
the
midst,
mistaking
a
past
personal
issue
for
character
development
to
hold
the
weight
of
pulpy
hardboiled
fiction.
It
feels
like
the
writer
came
up
with
a
fascinating
story
beat
and
worked
up
an
entire
trope-ey
trajectory
as
a
crutch
to
hide
the
genuine
lack
of
inspiration
in
the
telling.
The
end
is
sure
to
leave
one
truly
perplexed
by
its
abruptness.
Rekhachitram
is
the
latest
in
an
assembly
line
of
films
that
use
the
allure
of
the
past
to
drive
home
the
suspense
of
relatively
straightforward
genre
stories.
The
inclusion
of
and
reverence
to
titles
like
Mutharamkunnu
PO
(1985)
and
Unnikale
Oru
Kadha
Parayam
(1987)
do
much
by
the
associated
nostalgia
of
this
particular
period
in
Kerala’s
varied
film
history.
The
familiar
yet
hopeful
re-interpretation
of
an
actual
event
to
predict
a
different
outcome
is
a
tricky
proposition.
The
abrupt
melancholic
feel
of
the
film
in
the
finale
is
a
good
note
to
end
such
a
sad
retelling
of
crushed
dreams
and
the
sense
of
poetic
justice
that
transcends
time.
Rekhachithram
Review
Rediff
Rating:
