The Malayalam film Footage is a cautionary tale on today’s social media-driven times, and the consequences of Covid
Illustration/Uday Mohite
The Malayalam film Footage, directed by Saiju Sreedharan, was back in the theatres last week. Released in Malayalam last August, it is presented by Anurag Kashyap and re-released by Ranjan Singh in a Hindi dubbed version. Thanks to Kashyap and his backers--who have for decades supported Indian artistic, risk-taking films in multiple languages--the larger public can see this film in cinemas beyond Kerala as well. This is crucial, given how theatrical audiences are dwindling, preferring to wait till a film is streamed online.
ADVERTISEMENT
The film is framed as a found-footage thriller, starring Gayathri Ashok and Vishak Nair, with the lovely Manju Warrier playing a crucial role. The story is told in flashback, of a case under investigation, involving the footage uploaded by a pair of Youtube vloggers. An unnamed, live-in couple, played by Gayathri Ashok and Vishak Nair, obsessively film themselves and life around them, and upload the videos on YouTube. They are both voyeurs, as well as offer themselves up for other voyeurs—filming mindless routines, as well as lovemaking scenes of their own, and those of the neighbours. Soon they follow and film a suspicious woman neighbour, who drives off into a distant forest, and finds themselves trapped in a situation of unexpected violence.
This is the debut feature of Saiju Sreedharan, well known as the editor of many brilliant Malayalam films, including Maheshinte Prathikaaram, Kumbalangi Nights and Virus. Subject-wise, it is a follow-up to Aashiq Abu’s brilliant thriller Virus, which Sreedharan edited. While Abu’s film was an excellent thriller on the discovery of the COVID virus, Sreedharan addresses the consequences of the pandemic.
Sreedharan dares to choose the experimental, found footage format—also seen in Payal Kapadia’s A Night of Knowing Nothing--and reflects on our voyeurism, as well as our obsession in putting out videos of ourselves for public consumption, a comment on today’s social media-driven culture. It is also a meta film in terms of key characters having a self-awareness of being on camera, but for different reasons. The couple’s obsession means they are never fully in the moment—sex is interrupted to check if they are presenting their best angles to the camera, and even when their life is in danger, they want to ensure the camera’s frame has it all. And, when a borderline criminal, chooses to appear on camera, it also comments on today’s criminals, showing off their lynching videos on YouTube. The film also comments on the breakdown of the medical system during Covid. That’s a lot to tackle in a found footage format, and makes the film uneven. The screenplay, by Shabna Mohammed and Saiju Sreedharan, does not give Manju Warrier’s character the back story, motivation and heft she deserves. This is crucial as her character is a silent character, who after someone has been nearly clubbed to death, shows the victim a series of notes explaining why she was clubbed. Why, why?
Manju Warrier has a strong but brief presence: her rage remains internally coiled, but has too little to do. She has a vast range, having acted in over 50 films—including Lucifer, Kaliyattam, A’hr, Asuran and Viduthalai-2. Gayathri Ashok and Vishak Nair are okay. Moreover, a red flag to all women being photographed or filmed with men, to whom they are not married--whether fully dressed in public or privately intimate: be aware that a lot of the violence, rape and blackmail of women, starts with innocuous photographs/videos of women with men, with men later threatening to shame them by uploading the images/videos online, unless they do whatever horrific things the men want. This is often done by trusted male partners, friends and family, and best avoided. There are flashes of feminism: the heroine has a live-in partner, and a cook, and says that for women, “cooking is being trapped in the kitchen, sentenced for life.” But this stance sits uncomfortably with the slobbery male gaze throughout: I would have been happier if the film’s budget could have been extended to a couple of T-shirts for the heroine, who is mostly seen in cleavage-popping bras, or just a towel, or tight leotards. The day Malayalam cinema descends to Bollywood standards, we are finished. Stay where you are, please?
Shinoz’s cinematography—mostly racing breathlessly with handheld cameras—is a key element of the film. We first see footage from the man’s camera, then from the woman’s camera. Saiju Sreedharan’s editing could have been tauter. Nixon George’s sound design and Sinoy Joseph’s sound mix contribute to its atmospherics, as does the music by the band aswekeepsearching. The producers are Bineesh Chandran and Saiju Sreedharan, and the women crew include writer Shabna Mohammed and costume designer Sameera Saneesh.
Despite its flaws, thank you Malayalam cinema, for taking risks, as much of Bollywood threatens to collapse under its own weight.
Meenakshi Shedde is India and South Asia Delegate to the Berlin International Film Festival, National Award-winning critic, curator to festivals worldwide and journalist.
Reach her at meenakshi.shedde@mid-day.com
