Narivetta
takes
its
cue
from
real-life
incidents
and
fictionalises
the
ordeal
through
the
experiences
of
a
young
cop
caught
in
the
crossfire
between
the
police
and
tribals
up
in
arms,
notes
Arjun
Menon.
Socio-political
dramas
are
a
rarity
in
Malayalam
cinema
these
days,
where
political
commentary
is
mostly
delivered
with
the
packaging
of
tone
deaf,
blunt
mainstream
outings,
or
the
understated
severity
of
independent
productions
that
hardly
cause
any
sizable
ripples
on
our
consciousness.
Narivetta
weaponises
the
blunt,
loud
brand
of
memorialising
a
dark
chapter
in
our
joint
history,
in
a
storytelling
mode
where
subtext
is
the
text
itself.
Based
on
some
true
events
which
occurred
in
Muthanga
in
the
early
2000s,
it
is
fiercely
committed
to
being
a
raw
indictment
of
the
creaks
in
our
sense
of
communal
remembrance
and
lack
of
collective
apathy.
Varghese
(Tovino
Thomas)
is
disinterested
in
a
life
in
the
police
force
but
is
forced
to
comply
with
his
family’s
demands
in
accepting
the
job
of
a
police
constable.
The
reluctant
hero
in
the
unfamiliar
terrain
gets
introduced
to
a
colleague,
Basheer
Ahmed,
who
takes
him
under
his
wing
and
acclimatises
him
to
the
ways
of
the
police
lifestyle.
The
screenplay
slacks
between
his
love
life
and
domestic
troubles
with
joblessness
in
the
first
half.
The
film
kicks
to
its
main
plot
when
the
police
force
that
Varghese
is
a
part
of
his
tasked
with
setting
up
camp
to
fend
off
a
brewing
mass
rebellion
in
Wayanad.
The
film
takes
its
cue
from
real-life
incidents
that
happened
almost
twenty
years
ago
and
fictionalises
the
ordeal
through
the
experiences
of
a
young
cop
caught
in
the
crossfire
between
the
police
forces
and
the
tribal
population
up
in
arms
against
their
unfair
living
conditions.
The
effectiveness
of
the
film’s
ideas
hinges
on
the
central
performance,
and
Tovino
Thomas
is
up
to
the
task
of
rising
above
the
written
word
with
the
role
of
a
man
woken
up
to
a
reckoning
with
some
bitter,
morally
dubious
truths
about
the
system
of
which
he
is
part
of.
Narivetta
fictionalised
the
shooting
by
the
cops
at
a
tribal
uprising
in
Muthanga
years
ago,
which
inadvertently
became
one
of
the
darkest
chapters
in
Kerala’s
socio-political
history.
The
film
aims
to
shed
light
on
the
unjust
eradication
of
a
fringe
demographic,
who
to
this
day
remain
the
disfranchised
in
terms
of
their
basic
living
conditions,
shrouded
in
a
history
of
general
human
rights
violations
enforced
on
them.
The
many
unheard
voices,
the
silent
rebellions,
and
ear-shattering
slogans
against
State-sponsored
violence
are
all
packed
into
this
cinematic
fever
dream
that
has
no
qualms
in
its
blunt
force
and
overtly
spelt
out
PSA
like
presentation.
Narivetta
and
its
makers
have
been
careful
in
putting
out
word
that
the
film
is
a
composite
of
many
real-life
incidents
and
similar
atrocities
against
the
marginalised.
This
seems
a
fair
bargain
considering
the
kind
of
responses
films
tackling
sensitive
historical
events
illicit
in
today’s
largely
divided
ecosystem.
The
story
of
the
dehumanisation
of
the
minorities
and
their
fight
for
their
rightful
land
is
a
tale
as
old
as
time,
but
one
that
unfortunately
remains
timeless
for
all
the
wrong
reasons.
The
director
Anuraj
Manohar
and
co-writer
Abhin
Joseph
gives
us
a
glimpse
into
the
‘better’
life
style
of
the
hero
who
seems
bafflingly
unaware
of
his
privileges,
only
to
upend
his
easy
life
later
in
the
second
half
when
he
is
forced
to
confront
the
struggles
of
the
voiceless,
who
are
left
to
extremist
means
to
fight
for
what
is
rightfully
theirs.
Narivetta,
as
a
movie,
is
held
together
by
Tovino’s
convincing
central
performance
that
undergoes
a
radical
arc
from
the
naive,
politically
passive
origins
to
being
the
conscience
of
an
entire
movement.
The
actor
convincingly
tracks
the
evolution
from
political
apathy
to
a
deafening
social
realisation,
and
does
so
without
going
overboard,
a
facet
that
the
film
around
him
indulges
in
unabashedly.
Cheran
plays
the
senior
IPS
officer
who
represents
the
system
in
a
minutia;
just
and
honorable
on
the
outside,
and
quietly
calculating
on
the
inside.
Suraj
Venjaramoodu
is
a
powerhouse
of
emotion
who
ends
up
being
an
important
side
player.
Arya
Salim
gets
a
few
well-written
line
readings
and
is
among
the
few
people
from
the
tribal
community
who
register
as
living,
breathing
characters,
rather
than
archetypes.
Jakes
Bejoy
continues
his
use
of
culturally
appropriate
instrumentation
and
organic
sounding
score
that
remains
true
to
the
wild
ways
of
the
film’s
latter
half.
The
cultural
milieu
and
emotional
scape
of
the
film
is
earmarked
by
his
unrelentingly
rooted
score
that
synchronizes
with
the
docufiction
approach
of
the
filmmaking.
The
warm
yellow
hues
and
bright
contrasts
in
the
frames
by
Vijay
also
lend
a
culturally
specific
visual
palette
to
the
film.
The
documentary-like
aesthetic
is
maintained
even
in
the
louder,
charged
sequences,
and
the
inherent
tension
between
the
sleek
images
and
the
morally
dubious
revelations
keeps
the
drama
afloat.
The
film
sheds
light
on
the
many
instances
of
wrongdoing
and
unfair
government
and
administrative
oversights
that
force
people
against
the
wall
and
are
forced
to
push
back.
There
is
no
inherent
merit
in
only
being
politically
relevant
if
the
storytelling
suffers,
but
Anuraj
Manohar
in
his
sophomore
directorial
outing,
somehow
finds
a
way
to
be
topical
and
genuine
in
his
film’s
politics
without
letting
go
of
the
story
at
hand.
Narivetta
does
not
break
any
new
ground
in
terms
of
its
character
tropes
or
cinematic
ambitions.
The
film
is
an
overwrought
exercise
engaged
in
making
a
political
statement
and
boldly
exposing
an
unforgivable
wound
from
a
grim
chapter
of
Kerala
history,
and
serves
as
a
timely
reminder
of
many
lost
lives
and
lost
voices.
Narivetta
Review
Rediff
Rating:
