Keedam, wisely, is not prescriptive on technology-driven vigilante justice, but avoids addressing the complexities involved in the use of surveillance techniques, including their misuse by powers.
Anna MM Vetticad
25 May 2022 09:34:41 IST
Keedam Movie Review: A suspenseful yet simplistic technical thriller scores by subverting the man-as-protector trope
Rajisha Vijayan in a still from Keedam
Language: Malayalam
Keedam is a thriller about a tech expert who punishes men who harassed her on a mobile phone, it is also more than that. Initially, Radhika Balan (Rajisha Vijayan) is painfully ethical in her use of technology. The turning point in Keedam is her decision to go after her stalkers outside the law. But the film's defining scene, which sets it apart from others in its genre, is the scene where her father Balan (Sreenivasan) tells her in a lame voice of fear that he is afraid, and she reacts to this revelation.
It is unusual for a prominent male character in a commercial Indian film to admit to being vulnerable, even more so with a daughter, and for such a man not to be mocked by the film's tone. Unlike male heroes in similar situations with the women they love, Radhika does not become a roaring lion single-handedly defeating gangs and armies. She also doesn't conform to the "strong woman" trope of Indian cinema by turning into a raging Kali/Durga/Chandi-like figure who is the exact opposite of the more dominant cinematic cliché: women who hang around and wait for men to save them. Instead, we get a real woman in Keedam. She loves her father, is capable and determined to take care of herself and him, makes mistakes that normal people do in such circumstances, but is not indifferent to the dangers she faces.
Keedam centers around bright, hard-working, independent-minded Radhika, who runs a technology start-up. She shares a home with her father, who is retired and a respected lawyer. Her furious reaction to a lascivious caller one day angers the guy so much that he starts stalking her. He is a hardened criminal and she is a cyber security professional. A battle ensues in which he resorts to physical aggression, which she counters with her knowledge of technology.
The scenes revealing the severity of the threat to Radhika are chilling. The narrative trots along with new developments coming our way at a steady pace. An extended chase-and-fight scene involving police and gangsters is staged to make the sound more realistic than the usual biff-bang-dishoom-dishoom that action thrillers rely on, and the stunt choreography more believable than the standard larger-than-life fare.
Radhika's somewhat risky behavior at a certain point is not celebrated or (given her gender) judged through the lens of the court. Her behavior is depicted as a natural evolution of responses to a challenging scenario, the kind of craziness that brave people sometimes display.
Keedam, wisely, is not prescriptive about technology-driven vigilante justice. It just shows what it shows and offers a cautionary note from Balan about potential abuse.
However, the film falls short in that it avoids taking its point further. Although Radhika and the Keedam police have good intentions, we know that the powers that be around the world make a mockery of citizens' privacy by abusing surveillance techniques, but the film avoids these complexities and their disastrous effects.
Keedam scores in Radhika's comfortable equation with her father in their democratic home. She is protective of him but not overbearing. He fears for her future and her safety in the present, but he does not use his interest as an excuse to control and limit her. In recent years, there has been a small crop of fairly well-written father-daughter relationships from Malayalam star-led cinema with ambitious women and one parent: Parvathy and Siddique in Uyare, Anna Ben and Lal in Helen, and now this.
Sreenivasan really kills it as the concerned parent in Keedam, especially with that remarkable, heart-wrenching scene where Balan confides in Radhika. Rajisha never once veers off her playing field as a wild genius who isn't Wonder Woman.
Violence against women, online harassment and its offline dangers are recurring themes in Rahul Riji Nair's works. Nair made his debut with the excellent Ottamuri Velicham (Light in the Room, 2017) about a physically abusive husband and a timid new bride in a sparsely populated highland countryside. His Kalla Nottam (The False Eye, 2019) was about illegal surveillance, voyeurs and the self-appointed moral police.
While Keedam makes for interesting viewing, it doesn't live up to Nair's first effort. Part of the reason is the absence of the rootedness he once captured so well. In Ottamuri Velicham, the scent of the pure mountain air and soil of that treacherous landscape almost wafted off the screen. At Keedam, they seem to be trying for an Anyplace Everyplace feel, which is rarely a good thing.
This goal is underscored by the inexplicable use of Hindi lines in the film's soundtrack. . The choice of language has no contextual relevance and has the effect of dragging Keedam down into a sort of cultural limbo. Malayalam filmmakers need to stop mindlessly shoving Hindi and English into their scripts and songs. (For more information, click here and here.)
In this and other ways, Keedam fails to deliver on its promise. Still, the overall flow of the narrative, the performances, the timeliness of the socially important premise, and the consistent centrality of Radhika to the plot, even when other characters are given ample space and substance, are worth it. In an impressive supporting cast, look out for Renjit Shekar Nair, who played a lovable, no-nonsense village school employee with a bouncy head in Kho Kho, and transforms into a menacing, physically intimidating villain in this film. His role in Keedam could easily have been overdone and overdone, but there's a line he's careful not to cross.
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