Ammu movie review: Aishwarya Lekshmi shines in this striking story

Language: Malayalam The magic of _Ammu_ — a film that centers on domestic abuse — lies in the inconsistency of its lead character Ammu. To be honest, the society at large wonders, why are domestic abuse victims not capable of coming out, or calling out. They wonder why a victim that they know refuses to acknowledge that abuse is taking place in their household, but no one really tries to understand the victim’s perspective. The whiplash from love and anger that they see in their life everyday might be easy to understand from an academic perspective, but lived experiences are a different deal altogether. In fact, the reason behind Ravi’s (Naveen Chandra) sudden shift from a loving husband of Ammu to an abusive man, convinced me is because there really is no explanation behind what triggers abusive men’s temper. One may think, it is the smallest thing, or the biggest thing. The truth is, it can be anything. Ravi’s true identity is hinted at in the very beginning. A little girl in Ammu’s room tells her how she is scared by this man, and doesn’t think that he is right for Ammu. While many adults do tend to write-off children’s instincts, the film tells us why adults need to pay more attention to the observations that children make. Then, there are throwaway comments here and there, entrenched in sexism. There is really no progressing arc here, and audience see Ravi from Ammu’s perspective. The change is sudden, and the fact is, it shouldn’t matter even if it wasn’t. The absence of a progression here from a point A to point B underlines the truth about domestic abuse. At one of its brightest moment, Aishwarya Lekshmi as Ammu, in a conversation with a beggar about her predicament asks why she has changed as a person. She wonders when she turned into this spineless person who seems incapable of even standing up for herself. She also wonders if it is really the right decision to abandon the marriage in which she did feel loved, and respected for a while. After all, she had fallen in love with her abusive husband over weeks and months. These are the months during when their relationship shined. She wants to attain that perfection in their relationship again. In fact, during this very conversation, she concludes that she maybe able to relive those experiences if only she loved her husband enough. The society at large has always told women that they can change men with their love. If love isn’t enough, then maybe they can change them by giving them a baby. If that doesn’t work either, then they suffer in silence. The deep conditioning is no joke, and this very conditioning is what is reflected in Ammu. What really strikes more powerful is the fact that Ammu has her mother in her corner. Her mother breaks the cycle of patriarchy in a small way. She tells her daughter that Ammu doesn’t have to live with her husband after being hit by her. While her own mother had tried to convince her that women would have to experience their husband’s anger as much as their love, adjust and live their lives, Ammu’s mother was not ready to do the same to her daughter. And yet, Ammu believed that she could, maybe, change her husband by paying more attention to him, by loving him more and being as perfect as possible. This is, in a way reflective of women experiencing abuse — mental or physical. The initial disbelief, how they tend to first blame themselves, and how they attempt everything possible to make things better at home without any help. It is all present in the film in spades. What is even better is the shadows that Ammu retrieves into when her brain so much as hints at a break down. Whenever she begins to feels suffocated, whenever she begins to question her decision, or when she is being abused, she retrieves into a shell that is portrayed visually in the form of shadows. It is not only this, but there are quite a few visual metaphors in the film that add layers to the film. Take, for instance, the pan from the bedroom to Ammu who is covering in the corner after getting beaten up by her husband. It is indication of how intimacy and abuse overlaps each other in a disturbing manner in this household. Another turning point occurs when Ammu finally realizes that she has been misled all this while by her own need to save a relationship. She realizes that her husband switches her birth control pills with something else, leading to her getting pregnant. Her breakdown at this point, is truly the best monologue in the film as it addresses agency, addresses pro-choice among other things seamlessly. It is less preachy, and more a moment realization for Ammu. This eye-opening moment comes with her cleaning up her house. She cleans it from top to bottom when a friend drops by to check on her, to see if she was doing okay after her attempt to complain against her husband fails. Her husband — Circle Inspector Ravi (Naveen Chandra) — frames her as someone who is mentally disturbed. If her complaint were to go through, his entire life would be at stake. While Ammu has a female cop and an old male cop in her corner, Ravi has certain people looking out for him as well. So when it becomes clear that Ammu would have to come up with a convoluted plan, she decides to do it. She finds, jut the perfect ally in Prabhu (Simha). Through Prabhu, the film also shows the beauty of how a male character in a female narrative doesn’t always have to a saviour. An ally, in fact, is a more powerful tool in narration than a saviour. Ammu in totality is silent, quiet, and inconsistent, but this is the very thing that makes the film relatable. It is also the very thing which makes the portrayal chilling because, because according to The National Family Health Survey (NFHS), “29.3% married Indian women between the ages of 18-49 years have faced domestic violence/or sexual violence. 3.1% of pregnant women between the ages of 18-49 have experienced physical violence during any pregnancy.” It is interesting that Ammu’s character is not etched clearly. For a film that has done so well in thinking of themes, visual metaphors, and powerful dialogues, why did they miss something like this? I can only guess at the answer. Maybe, it doesn’t matter if Ammu loves sewing, or if she is an independent thinker. It doesn’t matter if she knew to look for red flags, or if she was vocal about her beliefs. It definitely did not matter that she loves films, and hanging out with her neighbours. All that mattered here is this young woman’s struggle. She is every woman experiencing abuse at home today.

Priyanka Sundar is a film journalist who covers films and series of different languages with special focus on identity and gender politics.