Old-school familial tropes in a gender-swapped bottle

A clumsy, outdated take on emotional abuse in marriage, the film swaps roles but not stereotypes, relying heavily on unfunny jokes and badly staged melodrama

Boban Samuel’s latest directorial venture Machante Malakha attempts to tell the story of a man caught in an emotionally abusive marriage, flipping traditional gender roles in the process. While the premise of exploring emotional abuse against men in a domestic setting is not inherently flawed, the way this film chooses to do so is deeply problematic. With outdated storytelling, one-dimensional characters and an overreliance on melodrama, it ultimately feels like a relic of the past rather than an engaging or thought-provoking drama.

Director: Boban Samuel

Cast: Soubin Shahir, Namitha Pramod, Shanthi Krishna, Manoj KU, Dhyan Sreenivasan, Dileesh Pothan, Vineeth Thattil

The film begins with a fire and rescue team heading towards an emergency location before it abruptly shifts to a two-year-old flashback. This narrative structure already signals an old-school, ineffective way of storytelling, but that is the least of the film’s problems. The flashback introduces Sajeevan (Soubin Shahir), a state transport bus conductor, who initially experiences heartbreak before fate leads him to Bijimol (Namitha Pramod). Bijimol, shown to be short-tempered and unreasonable, picks fights with Sajeevan over minor misunderstandings. Their relationship later morphs into reluctant affection and eventually results in marriage. What follows is an attempt at a gender-reversed domestic conflict, where Sajeevan moves into Bijimol’s home, only to be subjected to the indifferent behaviour of both his wife and her mother, Kunjumol (Shanthi Krishna). While role reversals can make for fresh perspectives, the film does nothing to subvert the usual cliches. Instead, it feels like an old Rajasenan film, where women are painted as unreasonable, controlling figures while the male protagonist is portrayed as the noble, suffering victim.

One of the biggest weaknesses of the film is its inability to craft compelling characters. The writing has no nuance, turning Bijimol and Kunjumol into cartoonish antagonists with no depth or complexity. Kunjumol, in particular, is written like a caricature straight out of a bad soap opera, and Shanthi Krishna’s over-the-top performance only amplifies this. The screenplay constantly finds new ways to evoke hatred towards Bijimol and Kunjumol, while Sajeevan and his father-in-law Gopi (Manoj KU) are presented as innocent sufferers. This binary characterisation not only makes the film predictable and boring but also prevents any real emotional engagement. While Manoj KU tries to bring some emotional weight to Gopi, even his character arc seems to exist primarily to highlight the supposed cruelty of Bijimol and Kunjumol. Soubin Shahir as Sajeevan and Namitha Pramod as Bijimol, on the other hand, are merely functional. Their performances never rise above the script’s mediocrity, making it difficult to invest in their characters. Given the film’s weak writing, it’s not entirely their fault, but their lack of chemistry only adds to the film’s problems.

Boban Samuel, known for helming films like Romans (2013) and Janapriyan (2011), seems stuck in his past filmmaking style. The direction feels uninspired, and the storytelling relies heavily on melodramatic sequences and cliched conflicts, making Machante Malakha feel more like an extended television serial than a feature film. In fact, if this story were made as a conventional serial, it could have easily gone on for 500 episodes without resolution. The film is billed as a family drama, but it leans heavily towards melodrama with no rewarding emotional beats. None of the jokes land and the dramatic moments fail to resonate. The courtroom sequences, meant to be the peak of the film’s conflict, induce unintentional laughter due to their poorly staged proceedings and thoughtless writing. By the time the film reaches its supposed climax, it is difficult to take anything seriously.

The final act of Machante Malakha is where everything falls apart entirely. The resolution is so abrupt and convenient that it feels like the writers simply ran out of ideas. A character’s sudden change of heart, a major character's death and a forced happy ending all contribute to an unintentionally comedic conclusion. It may have aimed to be an interesting take on gender dynamics, but it ultimately feels like a world where only the men deserve sympathy and only the women need to be taught a lesson.