Kishkindha Kaandam (2024) Movie Review

In Christopher Nolan’s classic “Memento” (2000), upon confrontation by Leonard, Teddy says, “You lie to yourself to be happy. There’s nothing wrong with that.” A dialogue that treads the thin line between deception and truth summarises the film’s gist. Dinjith Ayyathan’s “Kishkindha Kaandam” (2024) underpins something similar, as it heavily bears on the privilege and curse of memory.

Set in a verdure forest reserve area inhabited by a lot of monkeys, “Kishkindha Kaandam” engulfs you in a world of looming mystery right from its opening frame. When a government order prompts firearms license holders to surrender their weapons at the nearby police station ahead of elections, Appu Pillai, an ex-armyman (in his 70s), who despite his futile attempts hasn’t been able to recover his missing pistol, and his forest officer son Ajayan are met with police scrutiny.

Throughout the film, Ajayan’s conversations with his overbearing, grumpy old father reflect the duo’s distant relationship bound by caregiving. At a particular instant, Ajayan’s elder brother even calls his father Appu Pillai, ‘Anjooran’ (an iconic patriarch character played by Vijayaraghavan’s father NN Pillai in the Malayalam movie “Godfather” (1991)), reflecting the kind of upbringing his children had.

What begins as a case of ‘a missing gun’ quickly takes the shape of ‘a child-missing case’ when Bahul Ramesh’s clever screenplay unravels layers to Ajayan and Appu Pillai’s characters through Aparna, Ajayan’s second wife. It is Aparna who acts as a pivot that speaks the audience’s mind. She curiously glances at the frame-clad walls of the old house and confronts Ajayan when her curiosity piques. Through her, you get to know about a series of tragic events that consumed the family’s happiness—the missing of Ajayan’s 7-year-old son Chachu and the death of his first wife to cancer.

Kishkindha Kaandam (2024) Movie Review — A still from “Kishkindha Kaandam” (2024)

As she willingly tries to be a part of Ajayan’s world, Aparna begins observing strange patterns in Appu Pillai’s behaviour. As he seals himself within the doors of his room, he makes cut-outs from newspapers and visits the same set of people over and over again, raising suspicion in Aparna’s mind. Parallely, things get complicated when a group of monkeys get photographed carrying a pistol—the same pistol Appu Pillai lost. A series of events follow, and wounds break open as she persists in digging Ajayan’s and Appu Pillai’s concealed past.

Unlike the recent atmospheric mystery dramas in Malayalam like “Ela Veezha Poonchira” (2022) and “Iratta” (2023), “Kishkindha Kaandam” doesn’t overtly rely on shock values. It carefully crafts and meticulously weaves the psyches of two of its characters through a curious third character. With attention to minute details, it takes unpredictability seriously and makes every scene and dialogue count. Kishkindha Kaandam’s writing neither dumps you with information nor makes them indolent, but instead passes them cleverly. Sometimes, through the ‘Show, don’t tell’ technique.

The momentous strength of “Kishkindha Kaandam” lies in its emotional core that blurs the lines of morality. Beyond the shackles of secrets and mysteries lies a strong drama between two fathers and sons, making you re-evaluate definitions of memory. Is memory merely a recollection of a series of events? or is it a fragment of reality one has lived in and wishes to escape from? Is forgetfulness a boon or bane? Or is forgetfulness the cure to grief?

As Rumi says, “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field.” It wouldn’t be assumptive to say that Kishkindha Kaandam’s emotional core rests in this field devoid of rights and wrongs.

A taut screenplay needs clever execution, and needless to say, in his sophomore outing, Dinjith Ayyathan has churned a near-perfect mixture of drama and mystery. Bahul Ramesh, who also dons the hat of cinematographer for “Kishkindha Kaandam,” captures the claustrophobia-inducing walls and doors of Appu Pillai’s old mansion and eye-soothing landscapes of forestlands with panache. Bahul’s screenplay that pulls no gimmicks to deceive the audience remains the backbone of the film, and Majeed’s score and music dwell rightly within the narrative’s atmospherics and rhythm in all verity.

Every strong story commands capable actors at the helm, and “Kishkindha Kaandam” is duly aided by an exceptionally talented star cast that goes all out in bringing the tale to full fruition. Vijayaraghavan plays Pillai, a supercilious, egoistic, and overbearing army dad caught in a tumultuous cycle of never-ending questions with absolute perfection. He seamlessly switches between scenes where he accepts his memory loss and where he panics owing to his fading memory, making us feel for his character’s emotional undercurrents. At the hands of a less seasoned actor, Appu Pillai would never resonate the same.

If Vijayaraghavan’s Appu Pillai is the Ying, Asif Ali’s Ajayan is the Yang. He delivers yet another character with immense restraint after “Kooman” (2022) as a composed and shrouded man who doubles up as a caretaker to his ageing father and a keeper of his bothersome secrets. His combination scenes with Vijayaraghavan are compelling and a tad bit too relatable. Aparna Balamurali convincingly plays a curious contemporary woman who wishes to belong in a place of her choice. Her instrumental role propels the momentum of the film as she opens the chamber of secrets.

“Kishkindha Kaandam” does leave room for a lot of questions and deliberately refuses to answer them. It leaves you in a melancholic abyss with a profound, lingering taste of sadness. It makes you wonder if memory could change the sequence of events. Could memory and forgetfulness coexist? And what would happen when flushed memories flood back—if ever? That being said, “Kishkindha Kaandam” is bound to rest, its head held high as one of the smartest written mystery dramas from Malayalam language cinema ever. It is undeniably one of the best Indian films of the year.