Prathichaya Review: Nivin Pauly's Political Thriller is Predictable

Prathichaya has timely ideas and an interesting moral core, but is weighed down by dated storytelling, predictable plotting, and uneven performances, notesSreeju Sudhakaran.

There seems to be an unspoken tradition in Malayalam cinema: Every decade or so, someone attempts a rehash of Joshiy's 1989 classic Naduvazhikal. This time, the baton passes to B Unnikrishnan, who seeks a comeback of sorts with Prathichaya (Image), a political thriller starring Nivin Pauly, Sharaf U Dheen and Balachandra Menon.

There was a time when Malayalam cinema was rich with political dramas that mirrored real-life developments at both the Centre and state level. In recent years, however, crafting such narratives has become increasingly fraught; either you risk pandering to a particular party (as seen in One) or invite backlash for being critical (as with Left Right Left). Lucifer managed to strike a rare balance, emerging as a blockbuster without courting major controversy. Its sequel, however, drew enough ire from a central political faction to warrant re-censorship, with lead star Mohanlal even issuing a public apology.

With that in mind, one might wonder whether B Unnikrishnan has taken a significant risk with Prathichaya, which he also scripts. The film borrows from real political scandals, and one of its central characters appears to be inspired by a late former chief minister.

What's Prathichaya about?

Set in an alternate political universe, Prathichaya imagines a Kerala where a Congress-like party continues to rule under the leadership of K N Varghese (Balachandra Menon). Varghese is an intriguing figure, affable, generous, and accessible, yet shadowed by corruption allegations that he does not entirely deny.

His elder son Tobin (Nishanth Sagar) is an MP, but Varghese sees his true successor in his younger son John (Nivin Pauly), whose shrewdness he admires. John, however, is immersed in the world of tech start-ups and is on the verge of relocating to Russia with his wife (Neethu Krishna).

Naturally, those plans are derailed when Varghese becomes embroiled in a scandal that tarnishes his political standing. John is thrust into the fray, stepping into his father's shoes. What follows is his attempt to restore his father's reputation, while we figure out what role Ravi Madhavan (Sharaf U Dheen), a media baron, has to play in the scandal.

Is Prathichaya propaganda in support of a political party in Kerala?

The immediate question that arises is whether Prathichaya functions as propaganda. One could argue that Unnikrishnan is attempting to sanitise the image of the late Oommen Chandy, the then chief minister who was implicated in the 2013 Solar Panel scam before being cleared of all charges due to lack of evidence.

However, the film complicates that reading. Varghese is far from spotless; he smirks at corruption allegations rather than denying them outright. John, too, operates with flexible moral boundaries. This moral ambiguity is where Prathichaya shows some intrigue. Since both central characters exist in shades of grey, what the narrative seems to suggest is that political leadership is inherently compromised, and expecting moral purity from politicians may itself be naïve.

The film also attempts to engage with contemporary concerns -- corporate influence over media, the erosion of journalistic integrity, and policy frameworks such as the 'One Nation' concept, which is pointed out to be a sign of fascism. There are also references to data theft, AI manipulation, and other modern tools of political control.

Outdated treatment trips the narrative

Yet, all these ideas are packaged within an outdated cinematic treatment that undermines the film from the outset. Several scenes feel awkwardly staged, creating a disconnect between the audience and the characters.

John's introduction at a corporate celebration, for instance, is particularly clumsy -- the attempt to establish him as a morally ambiguous, womanising figure comes across as forced, as does the accompanying action sequence. These issues recur throughout the film.

Unnikrishnan's familiar tropes -- lengthy dialogues, convoluted twists, and heavy-handed family melodrama -- are all present, often to the film's detriment. The second half in particular suffers from this.

That said, Prathichaya is not without merit. Balachandra Menon, returning to the screen after a gap, delivers a performance that aligns well with the director's sensibilities. The sequence in which the scandal breaks on television, followed by Varghese's emotional collapse at home, is handled with a degree of finesse.

The second half introduces a major twist linked to John's rise to power. On a purely pulpy level, it works as a clever move, provided one does not interrogate the logic too closely. Unfortunately, the screenplay offers very few such moments of surprise, relying instead on a largely predictable trajectory.

A late scene, in which John's mother (Sabitha Anand) explains his motivations to his wife, is staged as a revelation, even though the audience is already aware of his intentions. The film consistently underestimates how foreseeable its narrative has become.

As noted earlier, Prathichaya echoes Naduvazhikal, which itself was loosely inspired by Francis Ford Coppola's The Godfather. Unsurprisingly, Unnikrishnan's film also dips into that well. Nishanth Sagar's character, for instance, appears to be a blend of Sonny and Fredo Corleone.

The influence of Lucifer is equally evident, particularly in the way John's cross-border connections are portrayed. But while Lucifer carefully constructs Stephen Nedumpally's mystique, Prathichaya resorts to narrative convenience to establish John's reach.

The manner in which John takes down his foes in the climax -- reflecting his father's low point -- was a strategic move on paper. But aside from a couple of punch dialogues, the sequence has little firepower thanks to how obvious the protagonist's schematics are to make his victory happen.

The performances within underwritten characters

A further drawback for Prathichaya is the antagonist. Despite the interesting casting of the fantastic Sharaf U Dheen, Prathichaya gives him very little to chew on, instead relying on far too many slow-motion shots in an attempt to craft a stylish persona. The result is a notably stiff performance. The only compelling aspect of the character is a backstory that connects to the 'grey zone' of Varghese's politics.

As for Nivin Pauly, the actor is not always on his best form here. There are moments where he is his usual charming self, particularly in the scenes with his father. But in sequences where he needs to exude a larger-than-life persona, Pauly falters. No matter how loudly Justin Varghese's score blares in one's ears, the 'mass' scenes themselves fail to live up to the auditory tempo.

The movie features a solid supporting cast, including the likes of Sabitha Anand, Harisree Ashokan, Maniyanpilla Raju, Nishanth Sagar, Saikumar, and Vishnu Agasthya, yet none of them truly stand out. Neethu Krishna is serviceable as the principled wife. Ann Augustine plays a role intended as a cautionary tale against media trials in #MeToo cases. But considering the film features an actor who was himself embroiled in a similar scandal, it is difficult not to question the politics of such a choice.

In conclusion, Prathichaya has timely ideas and an interesting moral core, but is weighed down by dated storytelling, predictable plotting, and uneven performances.

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