Pravinkoodu Shappu Review

 

Picture Courtesy: Pravinkoodu Shappu FB Page

In one of the most telling scenes in Pravinkoodu Shappu, Soubin’s character remarks, “I can see right through a guy who enjoys the accolades because I am exactly like that.” This line encapsulates the film's underlying narcissistic tone—a brilliant facade that crumbles under its own weight.

The movie boasts of excellent characters, brought to life by actors who truly understand their craft. The dark humor scattered throughout the narrative is sharp and effective, and the script holds immense potential. However, much like the narcissist who meticulously crafts an image but falters with one misstep, the film loses its way in the second half.

The initial brilliance gives way to unnecessary misogyny, cheap gags, and a mystery trick that is reduced to a simplistic device handled by commoners. Previously clever characters are sidelined into foolish bystanders, making the climax feel like a letdown. The promise of a gripping narrative fades into a series of generic justifications and underwhelming resolutions.

Technically, the film shines. Shyju Khalid's standout cinematography and Vishnu Govind’s meticulous sound design elevate the visual and auditory experience. However, Malayalam cinema—known for its recent streak of exceptional storytelling—needs to understand that technical prowess cannot substitute for a gripping narrative or meaningful character arcs.

The film’s reliance on characters as mere plot devices is particularly disappointing. While their dark humor moments are well-executed, there’s a lack of deeper exploration, reducing them to tools for advancing the deception in the story. By the time the revelation arrives, it feels exhausting and unearned, leaving the audience disengaged.

Picture Courtesy: Wave Cinemas

Trigger Warning: One of the most troubling aspects of the film is its careless and unnecessary treatment of mental health and police brutality. Basil’s character’s struggles, including flashbacks of parental trauma, are introduced seemingly as “dark humor” gags and as a way to mislead the audience into expecting a deeper narrative—only to be abandoned entirely. Instead of handling these themes with care, the creators reduce them to shallow plot devices, seemingly more concerned with showcasing their supposed brilliance than treating sensitive issues responsibly.

No one expects a deep psychological exploration of every character, but if the creators cannot approach such issues with the gravity they demand, it’s better to leave them out altogether. Basil’s flashbacks, while initially intriguing, are ultimately reduced to cheap storytelling devices, paired with passive scenes of police brutality that are comically justified. This hollow attempt at dramatics and humor trivializes struggles that deserve serious attention.

Police brutality, suicide, parental trauma, and childhood trauma are not just narrative shortcuts or side plots—they are deeply sensitive topics that require thoughtful and respectful representation. Mental health is not oversensitivity; it is a critical issue that demands care, not exploitation.

Pravinkoodu Shappu is a film that starts with promise but falters under the weight of its own ambitions. While it has moments of brilliance in its performances, humor, and technical craft, the lack of depth in its characters and the mishandling of sensitive themes ultimately undermine its potential. Malayalam cinema has set a high bar in recent years, and it’s disheartening to see a film fall short not for lack of talent, but for lack of focus and responsibility. A little more care in crafting the narrative and respect for its subjects could have transformed this into something truly exceptional.