Casting Fahadh Faasil does not help as his chameleon-like acting credentials is wasted in a mundane cop archetype that passes through Bougainvillea with little or no impact on how things eventually play out, observes Arjun Menon.
Bougainvillea is an Amal Neerad film, sure.
We have all the tropes that the film-maker employs in his more successful films like stylised slow-motion sequences, meticulously composed framing and camera movements, a thumbing background score, and elegant character gestures that feel otherworldly.
But this is precisely the issue at the core of this psychological thriller based on a script co-written by Lajo Jose (drawing extensively from one of his best-selling novels) about a couple and their fight against the wife's aggravated retrograde amnesia, an aftermath of an accident that had occurred years ago.
The film follows Dr Royce Thomas (Kunchako Boban) and his wife Reethu (Jyothirmayi), who has momentary fixes of memory loss in her day-to-day interactions. She has a dedicated domestic help catering to her needs to keep her abreast of her daily needs and requirements.
The wife is going through a hard time navigating the contours of her fumbling reality that has stopgaps in between and restarts on its own accord, often leaving her stranded in awkward situations, with only her fixation with painting providing a much-needed respite.
Reethu's condition also makes her conjure up images of her two non-existent children, a fantasy that her well-meaning husband and help put up with for her sake.
The issue with Bougainvillea is not that it hinges its entire suspense mechanism on a single reveal, but the fact that the central idea is not scaffolded with solid writing choices to imbalance the viewer's expectations.
The film is constructed with a straight-face earnestness and pulp sensibility that does not take itself too seriously.
But the fidgety film-making tries hard to elevate the pulpy page-turner material into an abstract fever dream, albeit one with lots of swagger and abstraction in its design.
Amal Neerad can't help himself but render the material hyper-stylised through his exuberant punk aesthetic, if one can call it that.
David Koshy, IPS (Fahadh Faasil) is in charge of investigating a series of cases of missing young women and happens to cross paths with the couple after Reethu is seen passing through one of the crime scenes.
The writing of this character hints at the lazily drawn-out caricaturish nature of this film's conflicts that feel contrived and cooked up with no signs of internal life.
Casting Fahadh Faasil also does not help as his innate charm and chameleon-like acting credentials is wasted in a mundane cop archetype that passes through the film with little or no impact on how things eventually play out.
It can be argued that this kind of sketchy, flimsy, character works well in genre storytelling, but here, it feels more lacklustre as opposed to intentionally incorporated as part of the overall story construction.
Casting Jyotirmayi to play the centerpiece of the puzzle box was a piece of inspired casting as the actress holds the weight of the film's good ideas on her shoulders.
Her impenetrable quality helps to up the stakes as we feel as helpless as her in her ability to recall events and occurrences.
The actress is in solid form and perfectly understands the assignment. She does not try to overcompensate for the shallowness in her character design by playing it straight.
Kunchako Boban is also a revelation in a slightly lower register, who of late has been making each film count by choosing enigmatic character types, clearly breaking out of his long-standing industry image.
The actor perfectly complements Jyotirmayi's confused state with a touch of soothing stability.
But this promise is floundered away to some extent due to the maddening repetitions and conveniently ignored itches in the screenwriting and tone building.
For instance, there are placeholder scenes involving Dr Royce's interaction with his fellow doctor in his clinic that are written as important exposition dumps to provide us with an overview of the events leading up to the wife's medical condition.
But the poorly conceived nature of these interactions with secondary characters, coupled with clumsy staging choices, undercuts the momentum of the central enigma, the beguiling memory lapses that force the couple against the wall in intense police interrogations.
Here, just imagining the way the exposition was delivered in yet another recent thriller Kishkindha Kaandam, coincidentally also obsessed with similar themes examining our ability to retain memories and the fading line between fact and fiction that we make up in our heads.
But the exposition scenes in the Asif Ali starrer were handled with such care and attention to detail that you feel the importance of the context being set up without compromising the initial intrigue of the central gimmick.
Bougainvillea sees Amal Neerad venturing into new territory regarding a few decisions made in the latter half.
The film manages to surprise us with some adventurous twists and turns that keep it afloat.
Still, the abstraction in the dream imagery is not topped by Neerad whose innately 'cool' sensibilities try to rescue a rushed, gaping, finale to little or no effect.
The score by Sushin Shyam sounds hip, but is held back by a film in conflict with its own identity.
There are flashes of promise and narrative ingenuity, but the overall impact is softened by a tokenistic ending that deprives the film of its sombre subject matter.
Amal Neerad can make even a piece of wood look 'cool' with his masterful eye for image-making, but there is only so much joy he can impart to a script just happy with its initial promise and indefinite unrealised possibilities.
