Unmadham Review: Brilliant Build-Up, Flat Payoff

A gripping psychological setup and Kunchacko Boban’s superb performance are undone by a disappointingly ordinary final act in Unmadham, laments Sreeju Sudhakaran.

There is this dialogue in the popular Prime Video series Mirzapur, where Rasika Dugal’s character tells Pankaj Tripathi’s Kaleen Bhaiyya, ‘Hamesha garam karke thanda chod dete hai.’ It basically translates to how he heats things up (for her in bed… ahem ahem) before leaving her cold (ahem ahem).

That’s exactly what I want to say about some of the thrillers I have watched recently in Malayalam cinema. They begin with promise, the middle section completely grabs your attention, only to leave you cold with an utterly underwhelming third act. Remember I, Nobody, anyone?

Malayalam cinema’s latest investigative thriller, Unmadham, fares no differently.

Written by Shahi Kabir, who has carved a niche for himself in the genre, Unmadham follows the same graph as his previously scripted film (that’s not directed by him), Officer on Duty, where the film hits its high points early before tapering off as it struggles to deliver a meaningful conclusion. Interestingly, both films star Kunchacko Boban in the lead.

The Mystery Of The Haunted Case File

This time, Boban plays a low-tier police officer, Shelley. Shelley is a married policeman who has taken a break from duty because he wants to become a screenwriter and break into films. His scripts keep getting rejected, and to appease his increasingly frustrated wife Soumya (Lijomol Jose), he rejoins the force, where he is mocked for his cinematic ambitions. An incident on his very first day back earns him a punishment transfer to another police station.

Here too, his bad luck continues as he is scolded for touching a closed case file that the officers there believe is cursed. The file concerns the mysterious death of a young woman who was found critically injured near a railway track six years ago.

Officially closed as an accident, the case has gained notoriety over the years, with the police claiming that it attracts a lot of Section 174 inquiries (police investigations into suicide or unnatural death) and other bad omens.

Shelley becomes fascinated by the case and develops a screenplay around it that impresses a director. He even receives an advance to complete the script. But without knowing what actually transpired, Shelley is unable to finish it.

Moreover, he himself begins experiencing a series of ominous incidents, leaving him unsure about what is real and what exists only in his imagination.

The Manichithrathazhu Influence

Unmadham marks the directorial debut of editor Kiran Das, who has worked on acclaimed films like Joji, Jan.E.Man, Rorschach and Ullozhukku, among others. Of course, the film’s biggest USP is Shahi Kabir’s screenplay.

Drawing from his experience as a former police officer, Kabir has consistently crafted compelling cop dramas and thrillers. In Unmadham, there is this interesting meta angle of a policeman trying to break into cinema by turning his own experiences into a screenplay.

But beyond that, Unmadham gradually shifts from being an investigative drama into psychological territory, making it even more compelling. Sadly, where it goes from there is where the film becomes a huge letdown.

I would like to dissect Unmadham by dividing its screenplay into three parts, based on the films each section reminded me of.

The first is Fazil’s evergreen classic Manichitrathazhu, an influence that Unmadham wholeheartedly embraces. There is even a real interview clip of director Sibi Malayil, who worked as the second-unit director on that classic, talking about the film.

So the Madampalli tharavadu becomes Shelley’s new police station. The thekkini of that mansion becomes the cursed police file of the dead girl, complete with amulets and all.

Just as the family begins facing trouble after Ganga opens the thekkini, the police station too is struck by a series of problems once Shelley touches the file.

Manichitrathazhu gradually reveals that Ganga’s dissociative disorder did not emerge out of nowhere, but stemmed from psychological trauma dating back to her teenage years.

Similarly, we are given hints that Shelley may not be entirely mentally stable, though the film deliberately keeps us guessing whether it is simply his overactive imagination as a writer or whether something far more disturbing lies buried within him.

In both films, it is the one who commits the act of ‘rebellion’ who suffers the most.

And to complete the parallels, Unmadham also has Sudheesh playing a former policeman who originally investigated the case.

Parallels aside, this entire setup is genuinely intriguing. The film also offers a good glimpse into how Shelley’s professional setbacks, domestic issues and repeated failures as a screenwriter gradually chip away at his mental state. The introduction of the supposedly cursed file, its eerie atmosphere and the mystery surrounding it all hook you in immediately.

Descent into Psychological Turmoil

Now comes the second part of the screenplay. Just as Ganga’s troubled state transforms her into Nagavalli, we see Shelley becoming increasingly disturbed by his inability to finish the screenplay, his failure to live up to Soumya’s expectations and his inability to solve the case. But while Ganga is diagnosed with dissociative disorder, Shelley appears to be suffering from schizophrenia.

This section reminded me of two screenplays by the great A K Lohithadas, Thaniyavarthanam and Bhoothakkannadi, both starring Mammootty. In both films, the protagonists are gradually pushed towards mental collapse through a combination of internal anxieties and external pressures.

Similarly, in Unmadham, Shelley’s growing paranoia and fear, combined with pressure from his police job, his writing aspirations and his family responsibilities, slowly push him towards the brink of insanity.

These sequences are effectively handled, constantly making you question whether what Shelley is experiencing exists only inside his head or whether the paranormal events are actually real.

Kunchacko Boban is terrific in these portions, perfectly capturing the fear and anxiety consuming the protagonist. I also have to mention Lijomol Jose, who is just too damn good as the wife whose frustration with her husband keeps fluctuating alongside his ambitions.

The Disappointing Third Act

But then comes the third part of the screenplay, one that reminded me of the Pretham films. Well, you know where I am getting at.

The mystique is abandoned in favour of a routine investigative drama that begins with Shelley’s search for the truth in Coimbatore, offering very little that surprises or thrills.

There is heightened melodrama, and the film even shifts into masala territory where the hero single-handedly takes on a group of goons simply because an action sequence has to be included.

The manner in which the mystery is resolved through increasingly convoluted developments, coupled with a touch of the paranormal, feels like such a major dampener considering everything that came before.

It’s like building a magnificent structure only to ruin it with a leaky ceiling that eventually comes crashing down on all your painstaking effort. Everything interesting about the screenplay is sacrificed in favour of finding an easy way out for the protagonist, possibly to avoid embracing the darker ending that Unmadham seemed to be setting up so effectively.

The performances remain consistently strong, while Arjun Sethu’s cinematography and Johns Roy’s background score are equally impressive.

But by the end, much like Mirzapur‘s Beena Tripathi, you are left frustrated as a viewer. You are promised a sizzling psychological thriller, only to end up with a dish that is warm on the outside but uncooked within.